Page 55 of Canyon Killer
The next photograph showed a group of three men and three women dressed in jeans and T-shirts, standing with several saddled horses against a backdrop of rock. Someone had written a list of names in the margins of the photo in blue ink:Walt S., Gerald B., Craig B., Abby S., Kate B., Susan M.
Bethany leaned over the photo, trying to bring the small image into better focus. Walt S.—that had to be Walter Spies. He had been a handsome young man—square jawed, sandy haired and blue eyed. He held the reins of a big black horse, the woman identified as Susan M. on the other side of the horse. Next to her stood Gerald with a brown-and-white horse, Kate B. beside him. Katherine Berringer? Or was she already Katherine Boston? Next to her was Abby S. The future Abby Boston? Then a roan horse and Craig Boston—floppy blond hair and wire-rimmed glasses. The girls all had long hair with feathered-back sides and wore lots of eyeliner.
Here was proof Walt Spies had known Craig and Abby. But hadn’t Craig said Abby and Gerald had met after his divorce? Had she misunderstood? If Kate B. and Katherine Boston were the same person, then Gerald had known Abby while he’d still been married.
“Here. This might help.” Caleb handed her a magnifying glass. “It can help with some of these older, blurry shots.”
Bethany thanked him and examined the photo again but found nothing of interest. None of the women’s hands were positioned where she could see a wedding or engagement ring, and all of them were looking at the camera, not at each other.
The other photographs of Walt were from newspaper ads for his campaign for county commissioner and a couple since he had taken office. Bethany requested a copy of the group photo and left the building mulling over the afternoon’s revelations.
She was crossing the street, headed back toward her apartment, when someone called her name. She turned to see Craig Boston moving toward her.
Bethany waited for him to catch up. “Hi, Craig. You look like you’re getting around pretty good.”
He leaned on his cane and frowned down at the walking boot. “I’m doing okay. The physical therapist says I’m ahead of schedule, but I’ve always been pretty stubborn. What have you been up to?”
“I just came from the historical society. I found the greatest photo of you and Gerald and some others. You were riding horses. I wish I had it here to show to you. The museum is making a copy for me. Do you remember that day? Walt Spies was with you, too.”
He scratched his cheek. “Can’t say as I do. When was this?”
“Sometime in the midseventies, I’d guess. There was a woman identified as Kate—could that be Katherine?”
“I think sometimes people did call her Kate. Who else was in the picture?”
“Someone named Susan and a woman identified as Abby S.—could that be Gerald’s Abby?”
“I doubt it. If he was with Katherine, Abby wasn’t in the picture yet.” His face brightened. “I think that must be Abby Smith. I went out with her a few times. Never anything serious.”
“Who was Susan M?” she asked.
Craig shook his head. “I don’t remember. Maybe Walt’s girlfriend at the time? He had a lot of them.”
“He was a ladies man?” She could see that. Even in that photo she had recognized a certain rugged sensuality.
“I guess so. Not me. I never had good luck with women. But hey, I’d love to see that photo when you get a copy.”
“I’d be glad to show it to you.”
“Did you find anything else interesting at the historical society?”
“Ian is looking for photos of people enjoying the canyon—early hikers and climbers and miners—to display at the via ferrata. I found a few things like that.”
“So you’re helping him with this via ferrata project? How’s that going?”
“It’s going well. He’s going to be ready to open soon.”
“Provided he gets approval from the county.”
“I think he’s winning people over. Now that they can see the course they’re getting excited about it. It’s going to be a good thing for the community.”
“Well, good luck with that,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”
She watched him hobble away. His earlier comment—about not being good with women—saddened her. That photo had showed a smiling young man who had a bright future before him. Now he was old and alone. Had he made the choice not to marry, or had someone broken his heart?
Bethany turned and started walking again. Craig’s personal life was none of her business, but the romantic in her couldn’t help but wonder about his story. That was what had led her to dig into Gerald and Abby’s lives. She wanted to know what had brought them to their tragic end, as if figuring that out could inform how she lived her own life.
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