Page 54 of Harper

“So, what’s up?” asks Mrs. Stewart. “It’s that Ramona again, right?”

“No,” I say, stirring a packet of sugar into my coffee. “It’s not, actually. We’ve had two reports of a mother bear and twocubs up here on the old Dyea Road. I’m wondering if you’ve noticed any activity. They bothering you or your guests?”

“Us? No. The guests? I don’t think so,” she says, sitting back in her chair and fishing her phone out of her apron pocket. “Let me just send a quick text to the rest of the family. I’ll see if—”

“So, Deputy,” says Reeve, still looking annoyed at my deputy. “I’d like you to know that the gentleman from July Fourth wrote me a note, thanking me for saving his life. Did you want to see it?”

Aaron looks up at her, his expression sheepish.

“Reeve—Ms., um, Stewart,” he says, with a long-suffering sigh, “I didn’t mean to doubt your skills or your—”

“Oh, no?” she snaps. “Well, you sure did a great impression of someone doubting my skills and—”

“You look young!” he cries. “You look too young to be an EMT. I didn’t—”

“Well, I’m not too young, for your information. I’ll be eighteen in October.”

“Reeve,” says Mrs. Stewart, patting her granddaughter’s leg. “You’re not eighteen yet, and you’re being rude to our guest.”

“Our guest was rude to me first, Gran.”

“Then there’s no need for you to visit with him anymore. You’d best head back to the kitchen and get started on tonight’s biscuits, eh?”

Reeve flounces away, slamming the kitchen door behind her.

I look at Aaron, eyebrows raised. What the hell was that?

“I’m sorry, boss,” says Aaron, his cheeks crimson. “S-Sorry, Ms. Stewart. I’ll go wait in the car.”

He grabs his hat and heads out the front door, the screen door thwacking shut behind him.

“Ms. Stewart,” I say, “I have no idea what that was about. I’ll have a word with him. Sorry, ma’am.”

“I think we both have an inkling what that was about.” She grins at me, and it’s the super sassy smile I’ve seen on Harper’s face from time to time. “So, when you have that word, tell him to keep it in his pants until October, Joe. She’s technically still a kid until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, about that mama bear…” She thinks for a second. “You want to take a look out by the trash bins? See if there’s any scat or prints?”

“I’ll have Aaron do it,” I say. I unclip the walkie-talkie from my belt. “Aaron, come in. Go check out back behind the Stewarts’ trash bins for prints and scat, please. Over.”

“On it, boss,” comes Aaron’s reply. “Over.”

“I’ll just finish my coffee here with you while he’s on poop duty,” I say with a chuckle.

Just then, the lodge door opens again, and I look over my shoulder to see Hunter walking in.

“Hey, Gran. Hey, Joe! Everything okay?”

He sits down in the seat vacated by Aaron, leaning forward to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“Just some bears wandering around,” says Mrs. Stewart. “You seen ’em, Hunter?”

“Shoot.” He nods. “Yeah. I saw two cubs playing on the old Dyea Road last week.”

“Did you call it in?” I ask.

“Forgot all about it until now.”

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