Page 65 of Canyon Killer
“You’re making me tired just listening to you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Stay safe.”
“You stay safe. I don’t like the idea of you moving back out to the canyon before the sheriff has figured out who’s doing these things.”
“I don’t think it’s a climber,” he said.
“Why not?”
“The climbers I know can be protective of their routes and competitive with each other, but they aren’t violent people. It’s not a violent sport—the opposite, really.”
“Maybe this is a climber who had a mental break or has anger issues,” she said. “Or something that makes him not-so-typical.”
“Maybe. But I can’t shake the feeling there’s something else behind this. If I could figure out what that something is, maybe that would point to whoever is responsible for this harassment.”
“Then I hope you figure it out. And I have to go. A tour group is arriving.”
Ian wanted to say something about how much she meant to him, but the words wouldn’t come out before she said goodbye and ended the call. He tried to turn his attention to his presentation to the county commissioners, but his thoughts kept returning to the puzzle of who could be behind these attacks. Who could be so upset about the development in Humboldt Canyon that they would resort to violence? Was it really Walt Spies?
He searched through the contacts in his phone and found the number for the county offices. When the receptionist answered, he asked to speak to Walt. “This is Ian Seabrook,” he said.
“I heard someone tried to burn down your place.” Walt sounded almost cheerful, but maybe that was Ian misinterpreting his hearty tone.
“They did,” he said. “Bethany and I came close to being killed.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But none of that would have happened if you had stopped the project at the first sign of trouble.”
“Is that how you got to where you are today—stopping at the first sign of trouble?”
“I come from a different generation than you do, son. You don’t know what a real obstacle is.”
“You’re probably about the same age Abby and Gerald Boston would be if they had lived,” Ian said. “Did you know them?”
“That couple they found in that cave? I knew of them.”
“So you wouldn’t have any reason to be upset that their bodies were found in that cave?” Maybe they had been right when they’d speculated the attacks on him were linked to the Bostons.
“Are you accusing me of something?” Walt asked.
“I just thought the person who’s been trying so hard to stop me from building the via ferrata might object to what else I might find in that canyon. Maybe there are more secrets hiding underground, waiting to be uncovered.”
Walt snorted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I let the sheriff know you were hanging around my place in Humboldt Canyon right before the fire.”
“I already spoke to him about that. It’s an uncomfortable coincidence, but I didn’t set that fire. I haven’t had anything to do with the things that have happened in that canyon, and if I hear you’re telling people anything to that effect, I will sue.”Click.
Ian almost smiled. Walt had hung up on him. A sure sign that Ian had shaken him up.
* * *
Just after noon, Bethany was wondering if she had time to run up to her apartment and make a sandwich for lunch when the door to the tour office opened and Craig Boston came in. He was still in a walking boot, using a cane. Bethany stood to greet him. “Mr. Boston. It’s good to see you.”
“I wanted to thank you again for all your help the day I busted my ankle,” he said.
“I was happy to do it.”
His expression sobered. “I heard about the fire up in Humboldt Canyon last night. Somebody said you were there.”
