Murder Grins and Bears It by Deb Baker

loaf for later,” he explained. “You know I hate to
cook.”
    After Carl left, Otis said, “It’s a good
sign, Gertie. If they’re combing the woods without finding him,
it’s a good sign.”
    “ You’re right,” I agreed.
“At least they aren’t finding a body.”
    “ Right.”
    The silence between us grew. Otis picked up
his check and fumbled through his back pocket for his wallet.
    “ Time to find Rolly,” I
said, draining my coffee and patting Otis on the back. “Anyone know
where our local warden’s hiding out?”
    A few customers gave me ideas, places to
start, but no one knew for sure.

    ****

    I found Rolly’s truck parked on the side of
Rock Road. After I put Fred on a leash, we walked around the truck
while he sniffed away. He caught a scent and hauled me down a deer
trail at a faster clip than I was used to. I’d have to teach Fred
how to walk on a leash instead of dragging me on my knees or my
face. About the time I thought my arm would disconnect from its
socket, we found Rolly. He had a hunter cornered in a tree. Or at
least that’s what I thought at first.
    Rolly eyed Fred as we pulled up, and Fred,
thrilled that he had his man cornered, pulled off his usual drill
by howling and going for a grip on Rolly’s pants. I yanked him away
at the last second, although I considered letting Fred go about his
business. It would have been one small victory over our local
government.
    “ Sit,” I said to Fred, and
to my amazement he sat. But he didn’t take his red devil eyes off
of the warden.
    Rolly had his hands on his hips, exposing
his sidearm. “They find that murdering grandson of yours yet?”
    “ I thought that was your
job. You should be out searching for him instead of running
innocent hunters up trees.”
    We both looked up and so did Fred. The guy
was about fifteen feet off the ground.
    “ He’s stuck up there,”
Rolly said.
    “ Quit standing there doing
nothing,” the hunter called out. “Help me down.”
    The thing that amazed me was that the
hunter’s aluminum tree stand was in a different tree than he was.
He was clutching the side of an enormous oak tree, and his tree
stand, or what was left of it, sat in a maple about four feet away.
Part of the stand lay in a heap on the ground.
    “ How’d you get over there?”
I asked.
    “ The bottom part of my tree
stand fell to the ground when I was inching up and I got stuck in
the maple for the longest time on what was left of it.” He had his
face plastered against the tree limb and his legs were contorted,
one stuck into the crook of a small branch, the other twisted
around the enormous tree. “I yelled and yelled, and when nobody
came I thought I’d have a better chance of getting down by jumping
to this tree.”
    He chanced a glimpse at a smaller branch
five feet below where he was hanging. “I missed,” he explained.
    “ I hate my job,” Rolly
muttered under his breath.
    “ Jump,” I called. “I think
you can make it without breaking anything.”
    “ Are you nuts?” the hunter
shouted.
    “ Shimmy down, then,” Rolly
said. “Go on, clamp your legs around the tree just like you’re
doing now and bear hug your way down.”
    With enough encouragement and a final threat
of being abandoned in the woods for the night, the hunter managed
to climb out of the tree.
    “ Where you going?” Rolly
shouted as the man bolted for the trail. “Get back here and get
this tree stand out of my woods, and while you’re at it, I’ll take
a look at your bear license.”
    After Rolly assured himself that everything
was nice and legal, Fred and I followed him to his truck. Rolly had
a bulldog’s waddle, the result of thick short legs and a barrel
chest. His jaw covered half his head. A pronounced limp reminded me
of Otis’ story.
    “ What happened to your
leg?”
    “ Charlie horse, is all,”
Rolly muttered.
    “ Did you know Warden
Hendricks?” I asked when we arrived at the road.
    “’ Course I did. We’re all
like