The Ghost of Schafer Meadows Read online

  Don stood over Les. “I wouldn’t try to move if I were you. These two will eat you and spit you out again.”

  Les cowered on the ground while Don tied his hands behind him with a rope cut from a horse halter. Dad and Pete each took Doug by an arm to get him up and brought him over to where Les still sat. They gathered up the gems that spilled from the pouch onto the ground and gave the pouch to Don.

  Don looked at Pete. “Call Kate and Charlie. Tell them we’ve got two suspects in custody and we’ll be back to Schafer in half an hour or so. Jessie, would you get their horses and mules and bring them back to the station?”

  “Sure thing,” I said, glad to be able to do something. “Come on, Oriole. Let’s go.”

  I tied the horses and mules together and led them down the trail behind the others. When we reached the ranger station, Mom and Jim came to meet us.

  Mom said, “Charlie’s on the radio with Spotted Bear. He said to tell you a plane should arrive shortly with three men from the sheriff’s office on board.”

  “Perfect timing,” Don said. “Thanks for getting the call in so fast. This’ll save us a lot of time.”

  Don, Dad, and Pete marched Les and Doug into the cookhouse. The rest of us sat at the picnic table until a plane touched down and three men in sheriff’s uniforms stepped out and came toward us.

  Don held the cookhouse door open for the officers. “We can take it from here,” he said as he disappeared inside.

  Dad and Pete came out. We left Don with the officers and went to the house.

  “That was more excitement than I want for a while,” Pete said, collapsing on the couch.

  “Yeah, me too,” Dad said. “Les and Doug didn’t look so tough when the sheriff’s officers arrived. In fact, they looked pretty scared.” He turned to me. “Jessie, I can’t believe you figured out the mystery. You were great. And so was Oriole. Where did she learn to be a law dog?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t teach her. After playing with Casey so much she must have picked up on his cues.” I bent down and gave Oriole a big hug. “You’re amazing, girl. I’m so lucky to have you for my dog.”

  E I G H T E E N

  Just Desserts

  We stayed in the house for a long time while Don and the sheriff’s officers interrogated Les and Doug. Finally Don came over to the house and sat on the couch with Pete. Casey curled up on a rug on the floor by his feet.

  “Whew! That was some ordeal, but we finally got them to talk. They definitely took the food from the Spotted Bear food cache and were involved in the Kalispell jewel robbery. But before we know the whole story, we need to find Hank Cooter and bring him in. Les and Doug said he was to meet them once they got out of the wilderness, but it’s going to be hard to find him. He flies a plane that looks like a lot of other planes. And he could be anywhere by now.”

  Jim, who had been leaning against a wall, said, “He said he was going to Great Falls. That was the day Jessie, Oriole, and I flew to Spotted Bear and saw him at the airstrip. Maybe he flew on to Great Falls when he left there.”

  I jumped up from my chair. “Hey, I almost forgot! I took photos at the Spotted Bear airstrip that day. A couple had Hank Cooter’s plane in them. Maybe his tail numbers show.”

  I raced upstairs and got my digital camera. The photos of Cooter’s plane came up but the pictures were too small to read the tail number.

  Mom shook her head. “Too bad. If we had the software for your new camera downloaded to my computer, we could enlarge the photos. But we left the software at the house at Spotted Bear.”

  Jim moved away from the wall. “Is there a way to see if Jessie’s software is compatible with any at the Forest Service office in Great Falls? If so, I can fly her there, get the pictures printed, and we can give them to the authorities to see if they can track down the plane at the Great Falls airport.”

  “Good idea,” Don said, “except for one thing—it’s the weekend. I’ll have to see if anyone is working in the Great Falls office today.” He got on his satellite phone and called. When he hung up he said, “The folks in dispatch there are working today because they have a small fire somewhere in the Little Belt Mountains and have sent some crews out to fight it. They called in their law enforcement officer because it might have been an arson fire. He said to come in and maybe he could help. How soon can you go, Jim?”

  “If Jessie and her camera are ready, we can leave right now.”

  We were out the door. “Mind if Oriole comes along?” I asked.

  “She certainly deserves another flight if she wants to come.”

  “What about Jed? Could he come, too? He loves to fly.”

  “Sure, go ask him.”

  When I asked Jed if he wanted to go with us, he nearly lost his cowboy hat as he dashed out the door.

  “Thanks, Jessie. This is cool.”

  “Yeah, well don’t say I never did anything for you.”

  In a couple of minutes we were in the air, headed for Great Falls. Jed rode up front with Jim, and I sat in the back with Oriole, who curled up and went to sleep. Once more the mountains filled the landscape and I had a hard time taking it all in. Peak after peak reached to the sky. We watched a pack string far below winding its way up a mountainside. The animals looked so tiny from the air. Farther on a waterfall plummeted to a small lake the color of turquoise. A tent sat in a meadow, and smoke rose lazily from a small campfire nearby. One person lounged by the campfire while another fished the lake from the bank.

  A short time later we flew past a sheer cliff wall that stretched for miles in both directions. “That’s the Chinese Wall,” Jim said. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jed and I gawked at the enormous rocky mountain.

  Finally we broke free of the mountains and looked off onto miles and miles of prairie, farmland, and grassy rolling hills. It was like going to another planet. Ranches, roads, and cars filled this land. Soon a city loomed in the distance. It got closer and closer.

  “Great Falls,” Jim said. “We’ll be landing shortly. I’m sorry there were no snacks, beverages, or services due to the short duration of this flight, but I hope you enjoyed flying with Gunderson Airlines and will choose us again the next time you fly.”

  Jed laughed. “Hey. Gunderson beats any airline I’ve ever flown. That was spectacular!”

  Andy Chesney, the main law enforcement officer for the Lewis and Clark National Forest office in Great Falls, met us at the airport. We drove the short distance through town to get to the office. It had been only a couple of weeks since I’d been in a city, but I felt incredibly out of place. Everyone seemed in a hurry. And everything looked so crowded—houses, stores, streets. Fast food restaurants, gas stations, furniture stores, and other businesses went on and on. Traffic slowed to a crawl as we waited at light after light. All at once my appreciation for Schafer Meadows skyrocketed. I was glad this was a short stop and I’d be going back there soon.

  When we arrived at the Forest Service office, I left Oriole in Andy’s vehicle in a shady spot with the windows wide open. We were met at the front desk by someone who worked for Andy. He hit a buzzer that allowed us into the main part of the building. It was a typical Forest Service office, with small rooms around the outer walls and large open areas in the interior where many people worked behind room dividers. I couldn’t imagine myself working in a place like that. It seemed so distracting and impersonal.

  Andy had his own office, and we all went in. He motioned for us to have a seat. “Make yourselves comfortable while I call Becky Stillman. She has the software on her computer to download the photos. You’re in luck because she got called in today to make maps of the fire area.”

  A couple of minutes later we all trooped down the hall, went through another set of doors, and entered another small office. A young woman with glasses, dark hair, and a huge smile greeted us.

  “Come on in. I hope I can help you download your pictures. Sometimes these things work and sometimes they’re just different enough that they won’t. Kee
p your fingers crossed.”

  I handed her my camera and she went to work. After a couple of minutes she looked up and smiled. “It’s working. It should be just another minute or so. I’ll save them to a file on my computer.”

  Finally the pictures stopped downloading. She turned her computer screen around so we could all see it. “I’m going to run the pictures as a slide show so you can see if there’s anything you can use.”

  She clicked her mouse and the slide show began. It was really fun to see all of the pictures I took when Jim and I flew to Spotted Bear. “Hey. This new camera takes some pretty good photos,” I said. “You never know how they’ll turn out.”

  “Well, it looks like you must have taken a lot of photos in the past,” Becky said. “There are some good ones here. Looks like you had a great day to fly.”

  Right then we saw the first of the photos I took on the Spotted Bear airstrip. There was the horse trailer and Hank Cooter’s plane with the mountains in the background. Not a bad photo, but we couldn’t see any tail numbers on the plane. The next two photos were the same.

  “Maybe I didn’t get the numbers.”

  As the next photo came up, Jed pointed. “Looks like you got closer in this one. I think I can see some writing toward the back of the plane.”

  Becky stopped the slide show and went to the file where she had stored the pictures. She brought up that photo. “Hard to tell. Let me try to zoom in on the numbers.”

  Becky changed the size of the photo. We could no longer see the whole picture on her computer. She moved the mouse around until the back end of the plane came into view.

  “Stop. Look there,” Andy said. He pointed to some letters and numbers at the back of the plane. “Bingo!”

  We all crowded a little closer to the computer. In clear print, we could see

  N048I

  Andy got on Becky’s phone and dialed a number. “Yeah, hi,” he said into the phone. “This is Andy Chesney from the Forest Service. The sheriff is waiting for my call. Tell him we’ve got a tail number for the plane he’s trying to find. I’ll fax him a photo of the plane with the tail number so he can see if the man he’s looking for is at the Great Falls airport. Yeah, thanks. I will.”

  He hung up the phone. “The deputy said to tell you thanks for the good work. The sheriff’s on his way to the airport now. C’mon. I’ll run you out there so you can be on your way back to Schafer.”

  Andy printed off the photo of Cooter’s plane and faxed a copy to the sheriff’s office. Then we started back to the airport.

  “By the time we get there they should have that guy in custody,” Andy said. “Or at least they should know where his plane is so they can capture him when he comes for it.”

  At the airport the sheriff and his officers stood on the tarmac not far from our plane. Andy went to talk with them. When he came back, he said the plane wasn’t there. Hank Cooter wasn’t around.

  “Huh. I’m sure he told me he was flying to Great Falls,” Jim said. “I wonder what happened.”

  “I don’t know, but they’re turning their search back toward Kalispell where he lives. I’ll let you know when they find him.”

  “Oh, well. We tried. Guess we might as well head back to Schafer.”

  “Yeah, well, thanks again for all of your help. We may not have gotten Hank Cooter yet, but we’ll find him soon enough.” Andy shook our hands and started to walk away. He turned around. “Oh, say. Would you mind making a stop at the airstrip in Choteau? We’ve got law enforcement officers at the Forest Service office in town ready to help the sheriff if needed. A photo of the plane might help them. I’d fax them a copy but their fax machine is down.”

  “No problem,” Jim said. “It’s on our way. Maybe we can grab some lunch before we go back to Schafer.”

  “Good. I’ll call and have the Forest Service officers meet you at the airstrip.”

  A few minutes later we were back in the air, flying north to Choteau. We laughed at how the town’s name was pronounced like SHOW-toe. Out my window the tops of the mountains zigzagged across the skyline in the far distance. Somewhere in those mountains sat Schafer Meadows and home.

  Home. I didn’t realize until right then how much Schafer had become home to me. I looked at Oriole, who lay in a ball with her nose buried in her tail. I felt like the luckiest person alive.

  The plane’s engine got quieter and the ground rose to meet us as we started to descend. We’d just gotten into the air. Choteau must have been a short hop from Great Falls.

  “Not much of a flight,” Jim said. “But I think you’ll like this place. It’s small and friendly.”

  We flew over a town with old brick and stone buildings on a main street and neat houses on tree-lined roads. The airstrip sat above the town on a bench. A couple of planes were tied up. We gently touched down. Jim taxied and brought the plane to a halt. We sat on the ground by the edge of the runway, waiting for the law enforcement officers. Oriole sniffed around.

  All of a sudden Jed stood up, pulling his cowboy hat low on his forehead to block the sun from his eyes. He stared at the planes tied along the airstrip with a strange look on his face.

  “No way.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “What were the numbers on Hank Cooter’s plane again?”

  A small white plane was tied near the end of the runway. Jim said to me, “Where are the photos of the plane?”

  “They’re behind the back seat.”

  We hurried to the plane. Jim opened the compartment in the back and brought out the photos. “N048I. The numbers match. No question. That’s Cooter’s plane.”

  “Now what?” Jed asked.

  “Now we wait for law enforcement to show up, hopefully soon. We can’t do anything until they get here, and it doesn’t look like Hank Cooter’s around. He must have walked the few blocks into town.”

  Just then Oriole let out a low growl. Her hackles rose to form a stiff ridgeline along her back. We looked in the direction she faced and saw a stocky figure walking our way. It was Hank Cooter, and the sneer on his face seemed to grow as he got closer.

  “I thought I got rid of you yo-yos a long time ago,” he said. He started to walk to his plane but Oriole blocked his way.

  “Move that mutt of yours or I’ll move it for you.”

  “She’s not a mutt, and she’s not going anywhere.”

  “Jessie, do as he says,” Jim said.

  I couldn’t believe what he said. How could we just let Hank Cooter go?

  “Jessie, do it,” Jim said, more forcefully now.

  I didn’t like it, but I called Oriole back to me. Cooter stopped right in front of me as he walked past. “’Bout time someone knocked some sense into that head of yours, missy. You and that dog are a menace.”

  Right then a Forest Service truck drove to the airstrip and pulled up next to our plane. Two men and two women got out.

  One of the women looked from us to Hank Cooter. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “No problem,” Cooter said, looking bored. “I was just leaving when these people came up and started bothering me.”

  “We weren’t bothering him,” Jim said. “This here is Hank Cooter. He’s who you’re looking for.”

  Oriole began her low growl again. She stood behind Hank Cooter. I gave her a hand signal to lie down. She got on the ground, but she continued to growl.

  “Tell that dog to shut up,” Cooter said.

  “Oriole, quiet.” She stopped growling.

  Hank Cooter shifted his eyes from one of us to the other and licked his lips nervously. He looked trapped.

  “Get out of my way,” he said suddenly, pushing past Jim and Jed as he moved toward his plane.

  “Stay where you are, Mr. Cooter,” said one of the officers.

  Cooter broke into a run. For someone his age and size, he sure could move. He had put enough distance between his plane and our group to outrun any of us. I couldn’t let that happen. I looked at Oriole. She stared in
tently at Cooter.

  “Oriole! Get him!”

  Oriole was up and running before I even finished the command. Hank Cooter reached his plane and had one leg up when she leaped up, grabbed him by the belt of his pants, and shook her head back and forth. Cooter reached back for the belt, lost his footing, and tried to hang on to the plane’s door as Oriole pulled him backwards. His pants dropped to his ankles as he fell yelling to the ground. Oriole let go of his pants and stood over him, her face inches from his, her fangs in the biggest snarl I’d ever seen. She let out a deep rumbling growl as she put one paw on his chest.

  Jed got there first. He straddled Cooter, pinning his arms to the ground. The officers caught up to Jed and handcuffed Cooter. They said they’d take it from there. Oriole still stood over Cooter.

  “Oriole! Off!” I said. She backed off and returned to my side.

  “Sit, girl.”

  Oriole sat next to me. I really had to try hard not to laugh as Cooter reached for his pants, which were still around his ankles. Who’d have thought he’d wear polka-dot boxer shorts? One of the officers, also holding back a laugh, pulled Cooter up off the ground. The smile disappeared and he became all business.

  “You’re staying right here with us until the sheriff arrives. He’s got some questions for you about the jewel robbery in Kalispell.”

  Cooter still looked belligerent. “Yeah, well he can ask all he wants, but I don’t know anything about that robbery. All I want to do is go home. I was on my way when you all showed up. Would have made it, too, if that dog hadn’t grabbed me.”

  “Too bad for you,” I said. “Guess I’ll have to teach my dog not to be so harsh on people like you who only want to be her friend.”

  We waited around until a plane arrived and the sheriff and some deputies got out. The Forest Service law enforcement officers turned Hank Cooter over to him. The sheriff took his prisoner and started walking him to the plane. I was never so glad to see anyone go, but I had one more thing to say. I knew Mom really wouldn’t like me doing this. In my mind I heard her say, “Jessie, you’ve got a mouth on you. You need to respect people.” But how could I respect him after what he’d done?