Bear the Great – Chapter Ninety-Eight.
She was practiced at pretending to sleep. She waited until he was out the door, then quickly pulled on sweatpants, an old t-shirt, and a dark hoodie. When his car got to the end of the lane, she could ease her black Accord out of the garage and follow him without much chance of being noticed. It’s not that she was afraid he was actually having an affair with the Park Ranger. Not per se. She just wanted to see where he went. And when. And for how long. Maybe spy a little. Was that so terrible? I mean, c’mon. Three hours a day, every single day, rain or shine? That’s just a wee bit excessive. Doncha think?
At the turnoff just outside their development he makes an immediate right. Must be her lucky day. That was the tip-off he was headed to the nearby State Park. At least now she won’t have to follow him 45 minutes over the dang mountain to Staunton Ranch. Sheesh. I mean, c’mon – REALLY?
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At the entrance to the parking lot, she hangs back and turns off her headlights. She sees him park, exit his vehicle, and then have just a brief conversation with the Park Ranger who is there hoisting the American flag at sunrise. Instead of following Aelin into the Visitors Center, however, he turns off onto South Rim Trail. No liason in the offing today. Good. But now her hammering heart and associated adrenalin surge has the unintended consequence of making her really REALLY need to pee. I mean, RIGHT NOW.
The rest rooms are at the opposite end of the Visitor Center from the Ranger’s Office, so she figures she can park down at the other end, do her business, and no one will be the wiser. Her husband will be two or maybe three hours on the South Rim Trail, so, no worries there. She parks and heads inside. The smell of strong coffee hits her nose as she enters, and she makes a mental note to get a pot going when she returns home.
The thought of it is enticing enough that she never even sees the other car pulling into the lot right after her. Had she noticed, it would have been a familiar make and model that made the same immediate right turn she had made after exiting their development.
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“I have to admit, the hoodie’s a nice touch. But I wonder what in the hell is SHE’S doing here today?” The killer makes a mental note for future use, then grabs the necessary tools and heads up South Rim after the woman from the black Accord has gone inside to use the restroom. By this stage of the game, Aelin is already immersed in the day’s interminable stack of paperwork on top of her desk. She never even sees the killer’s shovel. Certainly not the killer’s hammer either. Not that it would make a bit of difference in any event. The entrance booth isn’t staffed at this early hour. But trail building activity is ongoing during all daylight hours in mid-summer at the Park. Getting a head start on things, a volunteer could be carrying any number of tools heading out before the heat sets in. It would be the smart move after all.
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Oblivious, the victim heads up the trail before the sun peeks over the edge of South Rim. As if to taunt him, a tune pops into his head. At least it’s the proper cadence. Genre and lyrics don’t matter? HA! Think again, you fool. This is an earworm that’s been tormenting him the past couple of days now. It’s the theme song from the old TV show, Green Acres. Sung by the show’s now long-deceased stars, Eddie Albert and Zsa Zsa Gabor.
Eddie: Greeeeen Acres is the place to be. Faaaaarm livin’ is the life for me. Land spreadin’ out so far and wide. Keep Manhattan just gimme that countryside.
Zsa Zsa: Neeeew York is where I’d rather stay. I get allerrrrgic smelling hay. I just adore a penthouse view. Darling I love you but give me Park Avenue.
Eddie: The chores!
Zsa Zsa: The stores!
Eddie: Fresh air!
Zsa Zsa: Times Square!
Eddie: You are my wife.
Zsa Zsa: Goodbye city life.
Both: Green Acres we are there!
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Oh. My. God. Where’s Creedence Clearwater Revival when you need them most? How sad that this commercial TV inanity is going to be his last earthly thought.
But then again, the day and the hour were never meant to be of our choosing.