The Dead Cry for Justice

By Barbara Griffin Villemez

Honeymooners, Cate and Mitch open a pandora's box when they find the bones of a mass execution. The town of Spenser is the key to the mystery, especially when bodies start falling like flies. Cate is in fear of her life the the life of her friend, Essie Gray Eagle, the resident psychic. There is corruption in Spenser and the local sheriff wants to root it out. Major political figures are involved and people are afraid to talk. But the dead aren't afraid and they have a say in how justice is dispensed. The ending is surprising and will keep your on the edge of your seat.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbara Griffin Villemez
• Release date: Oct 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301598823

Barbara Griffin Villemez

Barbara Griffin Villemez, Psychotherapist and Clinical Hypnotherapist, University Instructor. Published short stories in CC&D literary magazine and the online literary magazine Write From Wrong. Feng Shui practitioner and teacher. Native American background and Shaman training, author of romantic thrillers, paranormal thrillers, short stories, and self-help books. Barbara lives in New Mexico with her husband and two cats.

Book preview

The Dead Cry for Justice

A Novel

Barbara Griffin Villemez

Smashwords Edition

The Dead Cry for Justice

Copyright © 2012 by Barbara Griffin Villemez

Cover Design by Laura Shinn

Digital ISBN:

Smashwords License Notes:

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be copied or reproduced in any manner without express written permission of the author or publisher.

The Dead Cry for Justice is a work of fiction. Though some of the cities and towns do exist they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters are works of fiction and any names or characteristics similar to any person past, present or future are coincidental.

Other Books by the Author

FICTION

Dreaming Dark

Dark Magic

SHORT STORIES

Mama’s Things

Dancing With Hannah

The Funeral

NON-FICTION

Fifty, Female & Fabulous: A Holistic Guide to Love, Sex & Relationships

To view more of Barbara Villemez’s work or stories,

visit: www.barbara-villemez.com.

Acknowledgments

My friends and fellow writers in John Duncklee’s writer’s group are the ones who listened to me read the chapters, gave their insightful comments and suggestions as well as pointed out mistakes, mis-spellings and poor comma control. I am indebted to Gerry Otis, eminent psychologist, Penny Duncklee, our Comma Mama, Sonia Segura, our lovely poet, Koro Meyers, our resident intuitive and author and our mentor and lovable old man of the group, John Duncklee. Thank you, one and all. I love you. And last, but not least my friend and reader, Cynthia Trafton.

Dedication

To Clare and our wonderful honeymoon in the wilds of Wyoming.

Prologue

It was mid-September and the early snows had yet to fall on the Big Horns. The air was crisp and cold at 9,000 feet. The tops of the pines swayed gently with the late afternoon breeze and the Sun God gloriously brushed the sky with soft pinks and lavenders from his palette of colors; a beautiful fall day in Wyoming.

A cloud formed on the horizon, crept across the sky and for a brief moment obscured the warmth of the sun. And for a brief moment, darkness descended on the pristine forest.

The men shuffled single file, hands tied behind their backs. The leader pushed aside branches as he led them up the animal track. The man in back kept them moving with softly spoken curses. The sun cast shadows through the pines on the bowed heads as they moved through the forest. No sound issued from their open mouths except ragged breaths. Their downcast eyes barely saw the trail in front of them.

The leader led them into a small clearing and looked at the man in the rear of the line.

See, I told you this was the perfect place. Nobody’s going find these spics in a hundred years.

The man in back grunted and nodded.

The drugged men were forced to their knees one by one. Heads bowed, eyes glazed, they stayed in the position without protest.

The lead man, the older of the two, heavyset with jowly cheeks, dressed in dirty jeans, red plaid shirt straining over his distended belly and work boots, reached behind his back and pulled a gun from his belt. A ray from the sun broke through the pines and shone for an instant on the man’s belt buckle. The burst of light illuminated the face of the large metal buckle, a skull on a background of crossed sabers with a snake entwined through the eye sockets and mouth. The man took a silencer from his jean pocket and attached it to the gun.

I’ll take out the first three, you finish the rest.

His accomplice nodded expressionless.

It was eerily quiet, as if all the inhabitants of the forest stopped their activities to listen to the scene unfolding in the clearing. The only sounds now were pop, pop, pop of the silencer and the thump as each body slowly sank to the ground.

Chapter One

Cate awoke with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. She rolled over and realized that Mitch was gone. Pulling on an oversize tee shirt, she tumbled out of the tent. Mitch was seated on a log pulling on his waders with the intent of catching trout for breakfast.

Cate wrinkled her nose. Mitch, I stink. I smell like a Harry Hines whore who hasn’t bathed in three days.

Mitch grinned. You smell good to me, honey.

You’re a primitive if stale sex and sweat appeal to you.

Mitch laughed. Come a little closer; let me get a good whiff.

Cate shook her head. You know, I do believe I married a crazy man.

What’s crazy about a man who likes the smell of his woman?

I guess men have different sense receptors than women. Body odors are just not one of my things.

She went back into the tent and returned with soap, a washcloth and a towel. I’ve got to have a bath. I can’t stand myself. I’m going into the river. She walked down to the stream.

You’ll be sorry; it’s damn cold. Besides, you’ll scare the fish.

You can wade upstream for your fish. I’ll soap down and you can pour buckets of water over me.

Cate knelt by the stream, wet the washcloth and began soaping her body. She stepped into the water and called. I’m ready.

Mitch waded into the water with a bucket and dipped it into the stream. Hang on this is going be a shock. He poured the first bucket of icy water over Cate and she screamed.

Oh my God, that’s awful!

By the third bucket even the goose bumps were screaming.

Mitch watched Cate with an appreciative eye as she toweled off her naked body. The sunlight brought out the highlights in her shoulder length auburn hair. He murmured. My beautiful water nymph. He couldn’t help becoming aroused at the sight of her.

Cate looked at him with a sly grin. You know, you’re a little ripe yourself, sweetie. She bent down and hefted the bucket of water and threw it at him, then ran to the tent with Mitch yelling behind her.

Mitch and Cate were on the fourth day of their three week honeymoon. They had flown in to Denver from Dallas, rented an SUV and drove to Laramie, Wyoming to spend a couple of days with an old school chum of Mitch. Bill and Jan Weston were biologists on the faculty of the University of Wyoming. They were lending Mitch their camping equipment. The couple planned to spend their honeymoon camping in the Big Horns. Mitch, an avid fly fisherman, hoped to catch trout for fun and frying. This was to be a welcome respite from the oppressive heat of Dallas in July. The Big Horns were Mitch’s favorite mountain retreat, not only for the beauty of the surroundings, but also for the great trout fishing.

Their campsite bordered a rocky, tumbling stream. Mitch was sure the stream was filled with trout and promised Cate that they would have delicious pan fried fish for lunch and possibly dinner. Cate was a little skeptical, she wasn’t sure she wanted to eat that much fish.

Hiking, fishing, making love, this couldn’t be a more perfect honeymoon. Laughter echoed from the campsite; happy sounds that floated on the cool mountain air.

Mitch pulled aside the tent flap. You little stinker, now I have to change.

"You’re the stinker; strip down and I’ll wash you.

You’re not pouring that cold water on me!

Oh come on. Don’t be a sissy. You’ll feel good afterward.

Yeah, like you feel good after having a tooth pulled.

Clean, refreshed and dressed, Mitch set about making breakfast while Cate sat in a folding chair, long legs crossed, sipping a cup of coffee. The clearing where they had pitched their tent was accessible only by four-wheel vehicles. They had found the road leading to the clearing by accident and were amazed by their good fortune that no one else was there. It was like having a private forest and mountain stream untouched by others.

Mitch handed Cate a plate of scrambled eggs and ham. Want to take a hike when we finish breakfast? When we went up that south facing trail yesterday, I’m sure that I saw an animal track off to the right. It might lead to an upper section of the stream that hasn’t been fished.

Don’t you think we should stay on the established trails? We could get lost up there.

I’ve been hunting and fishing in this area for years. You’re safe with me.

Okay, my life’s in your hands.

Cate filled their day packs with bottled water, trail mix, and a flashlight. She threw in a small first aid kit in hers and put kitchen matches in his. I’d rather be safe than sorry. She tied a red bandana around her neck and sprayed her arms and legs with Deet.

An hour later they sat on a log and drank from their bottles of water.

Mitch looked around. I’m sure I saw that animal track in this area.

Cate looked up at the sky and then at her watch. I think we should turn back if we don’t find it within fifteen minutes. It’s starting to cloud up and we don’t want to get caught out here if it rains.

Honey, it doesn’t rain much around here. Wyoming is more snow than rain. Mitch moved ahead on the trail and a few minutes later called back to Cate. I think this is it. Let’s try it.

They pushed their way through the brush following the faint track. About a hundred yards in, they came to a small clearing. Cate stopped and cocked her head. Listen.

I don’t hear anything.

That’s the point. It’s too quiet.

You’re right. It is too quiet.

Listen, I hear whispering.

Mitch looked up. I think that’s the wind in the pines.

No, I distinctly heard words being spoken.

Mitch cocked his head right then left. I don’t hear anything.

They moved farther into the clearing and stopped. Mitch cocked his head again, listening. You’re right, I do hear something.

Cate walked toward the middle of the clearing and stumbled. She looked down and gasped. Mitch, it’s a skull!

Mitch bent down and picked it up. He turned it around in his hand. Damn, there’s a bullet hole in the back of this thing. He put it back in the place it was found and looked around. Something bad happened here. See the bones; there’s more than one body.

A feeling of heaviness wrapped around Cate and she shuddered. Let’s get the hell out of here. I don’t like this place.

They backtracked until they came to the main trail. Mitch had his cell phone in his daypack and punched in 911. No service.

We have to go back to camp to get service on this damn thing. We need to leave some kind of marker here, so we won’t forget where this track is.

Cate took off her bandana and tied it to a tree next to the track then they hurried back down the trail to camp. They were a lot faster going down then coming up, and made it in record time. Mitch called 911 for the nearest law enforcement. He explained what they had found and where they were located. The operator said she would contact the sheriff in the town of Spenser, which was the closest to their location. She asked that they wait at the campsite until he arrived.

Cate paced in front of the tent frowning. I know this sounds weird, but I could swear I heard words when we went into that clearing. It wasn’t in my head.

Yeah, I thought I did too.

It was if the spirits of those people were still there and wanted us to know it.

That could be. I’ve heard of stranger things.

Almost an hour later, the sound of vehicles could be heard coming toward the campsite. An SUV with a county Sherriff’s emblem on the side, followed by a truck with US Forest Service emblazoned on the door, arrived with a roar, kicking up dust in the dry air. The Sheriff, followed by his deputy, walked up to Mitch and put out his hand. I’m Ben Hightower and this is my deputy, Carl Davenport.

Mitch shook hands with the men as Cate came up. I’m Mitch Stafford and this is my wife, Cate.

Both men touched their hats and nodded. Ma’am.

The ranger held out his hand. I’m Tracy Fowler. He shook hands with Mitch then with Cate.

Mitch told the men what they had found. He looked up at the sky. If we hurry we can get up there and back before it gets dark.

The five of them started up the trail with Mitch in the lead. The sheriff strode on the trail easily, but his deputy began to huff and puff with effort. Redheaded and fair skinned, Carl Davenport was a tall man, but grossly overweight. The sheriff, dark haired with touches of gray at the temples was not as tall, but in relatively good shape with muscles that flexed and moved beneath his uniform shirt as he swung his arms. The deputy began to drop behind and Cate slowed her pace so she could stay close to him.

I hope this guy doesn’t have a heart attack or we’ll have a fresh corpse along with a few old ones.

Catelyn O’Connor, psychologist, had been trained in CPR. It was useful knowledge since several of her older patients in Dallas had heart problems.

They arrived at the place where Cate had tied her scarf and entered the animal track. They walked single file until they came to the clearing. The silence was noticeable and Cate again felt a heaviness burden her spirit.

The sheriff stooped down and picked up the skull that she had found. He turned it in his hand and examined the bullet hole in the back of the skull. He whistled. This guy didn’t do this by himself.

Mitch looked around. There are enough bones here for more than one body.

The deputy and the ranger leaned down and looked at the bones. Animals had scattered many around the clearing.

The ranger brushed aside a layer of leaves and pine needles. Looks like another skull here. He carefully pried the skull from the layers of dirt and brushed it off. Turning it over he said, A bullet hole in the back of this one too.

Mitch, the sheriff, deputy and ranger, crisscrossed the clearing, bending now and again to examine bones, bits of cloth, or a skull. Cate stood by watching the activity.

The sheriff stood in the middle of the clearing. It looks like an execution took place here. We’d better not disturb anything else. Let’s go back and I’ll call DCI. It’s going to be dark soon and we won’t be able to see anything. They can send a forensic team up tomorrow. DCI will probably call in the FBI since we’re on government land. What do you think Tracy? This is your area.

We don’t have the manpower or the resources to do an investigation. I think DCI will call in the FBI if they need extra help. They’ve got labs and enough experts to handle this. DCI has response teams in several areas of Wyoming. There’s one in Sheridan and it’s comprised of local law enforcement and DCI. Since this is an unusual situation with so many bodies that appear to be murdered, I don’t know what they’ll do, particularly since this obviously happened a long time ago from the look of the bones.

Cate whispered to Mitch. What’s DCI?

They’re the Department of Criminal Investigation. They’re like the State Police in Texas, just named differently.

He started back with Cate following close behind. The others followed behind them. They returned to the campsite as the descending sun cast long shadows. Dusk settled in like an old friend as Mitch lit the oil lanterns.

The sheriff turned to Mitch. Are you two going stay here tonight?

Yeah, we’ll stay the night, but I think we’ll move into town tomorrow. If I remember, there’s an old hotel in Spenser. We might stay there.

Yep, it’s still there. If you like, I’ll let them know you’re coming and they’ll save a room for you. We get lots of tourists this time of year and the hotel fills up quickly. The food in the restaurant is good, especially the steaks. I think you’ll like the old west ambience.

Thanks, that’s nice of you.

Well, it looks like your vacation has been interrupted. It’s the least I can do.

The deputy said, I don’t blame you for not wanting to stay here. I think it’s kind of spooky. He looked around as he spoke.

The sheriff grinned and shook his head. Hey, you’ll be fine. DCI will be here in the morning and they’ll want to interview you, and it’ll be easier if you’re still here in the campsite instead of in the town. I’ll call them as soon as I get back and they’ll probably be here first thing in the morning.

No problem, we’ll pack up and wait for them.

Tracy said, Ben, I’ll talk to you later. I need to let my supervisor know what we’ve found. He turned to Mitch, Sorry you guys are having your vacation spoiled.

Mitch shrugged. Hey, shit happens. Actually, we’re on our honeymoon.

Congratulations. He gave a thumb up as he walked to his truck. See you in the morning.

The sheriff and the deputy also gave their congratulations. We’ll be back in the morning with DCI. I’ll call Sheridan and let them know what’s happened up here. I don’t know what time we’ll be here, but it will be early. I appreciate your sticking around.

Mitch and Cate waved as they watched the men leave.

Cate turned to Mitch. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.

Mitch was the martini maker and he and Cate liked theirs on the rocks with two olives, hers with Kettle One and his with Beefeater. Cate started a fire while Mitch made the drinks.

They pulled their chairs close to the flames and sipped their drinks in silence, each with scenes of the clearing playing in their minds.

Mitch cleared his throat. Those deaths happened a long time ago from the looks of the bones, maybe thirty, forty years ago, or longer.

Do you think it was an execution like the sheriff said?

I don’t know. It looked that way to me. Maybe we’ll get more from the DCI guys tomorrow, but I doubt it. They’ll be close mouthed about what they find. We’ll tell them how we found the place and what we did then pack up and get out of here.

I’m sorry honey; I know you wanted to fish this stream.

It’s okay; there’re a lot of streams for good fishing in Wyoming.

Well, I’m glad we’re leaving. I don’t want to stay here.

Mitch scooted his chair close to Cate. Don’t be scared, honey. This happened a long time ago and whoever did this is probably no longer around.

Cate sighed and looked around the campsite. We sure had a lot of fun here for a little while.

After several drinks and a bowl of canned chili with crackers, the campers settled into the tent. Cate snuggled next to Mitch and was asleep not long after Mitch started snoring.

Darkness settled in with clouds covering the moon. An occasional owl hoot broke the silence. A pack of coyotes sang their song to the night sky and the plaintive cry of a bird echoed through the forest. A breeze came up and rustled the pines and the forest came alive with the sounds of night creatures foraging for food.

Horrified, her eyes wide open, Cate sat up. Heart pounding she gasped. Mitch, wake up!

Mitch roused and turned over toward her. What’s the matter?

I know how those people died.

What do you mean?

I know how those people died. The bones we saw in the woods.

Did you have a dream?

Yes, and it was awful.

Mitch sat up and looked through the flap of the tent. Cate, it’s still dark outside. Go back to sleep and we can talk in the morning.

I don’t think I can go back to sleep.

He gathered her into his arms and held her close. Honey, you’re safe with me. Here, I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.

He leaned back pulling her with him. She settled in the crook of his arm, but her eyes remained open. In less than five minutes, Mitch was snoring again. She eased out from his arm and sat up pulling a blanket around her shoulders. She looked out through the screen on the side of the tent and watched the stars. In her mind she replayed the disturbing dream.

She stood on the outside of the small clearing. She watched as the man took the gun from his belt. He spoke, but she barely heard his words. The sun glinted on his large belt buckle bringing in bright relief the unusual design. She saw the men, hands tied behind their backs, standing silently with heads down. The bound men were dark skinned, some medium height, some short. The heavy set man pushed one of the men to his knees and put the gun to the back of his head. She saw the gun jump in his hand and the bound man fall face forward. She tried to move, but it was as if she was paralyzed and rooted to the spot. She watched him kill two more of the men. He turned to the other man standing at the side of the clearing and gestured for him to take over. What was so strange about this scene was that the bound men made no movement to run away. It was as if they were heavily drugged and unaware of what was happening. The other man took a gun from his belt and finished off the other three men. The scene misted over and she was back in the tent.

Cate O’Connor dreamed events past and present. It was a gift she’d had since a young girl. Both her mother and grandmother had this gift. Not too many people knew about this and that was the way Cate liked it. She didn’t want this unusual ability to affect her career as a psychologist. Her visions and dreams had helped the police in Dallas solve a very complicated series of murders last year and in the process, she and Mitch had become friends with homicide detective Mike O’Meara. Mike knew of her ability. She wished he was around so she could talk with him.

The chill of the night crept over her and she scooted down into the oversized sleeping bag with Mitch, throwing the blanket over them. Moving close to Mitch’s warmth, she lay with eyes open. What can I do? Mitch will believe my dream, but I can’t tell the DCI team that I know how these people were killed. They’ll think I’m loony. The belt buckle shining so brightly, I’ll draw a picture of it in the morning. She snuggled in closer to Mitch and with heavy eyelids succumbed to the oblivion of sleep.

Cate awoke to the sound of birds chirping. She lay there for a moment, blinking her eyes, then turned over and put an arm around Mitch. He aroused and turned toward her. Sleepy-eyed, he smiled. You doing okay?

Yeah, I’m doing okay.

Hey, wanna fool around?

She winked. Never thought you’d ask.

He pulled her close and began caressing her breasts, then her thighs. He nuzzled her neck then kissed her parted lips, slipping in his tongue. She reached down and felt his hardness, then rolled on top and straddling his hips, guided him into her wetness. They moved faster until he came with a shudder. She held on tightly then with a tremor and a gasp, she came too. Breathing heavily, she lay on top of him then slid to the side. He held her close and kissed her neck. Contented, they lay together and drifted off into a light sleep.

Hey, anyone in there?

Mitch awoke with a start, sat up and peered out of the tent. It was Tracy. Good morning. What are you doing here so early?

It’s not really that early. Ben called and said he’d be coming soon and bringing the DCI guys with him. I thought I’d better get here first and make sure you guys were awake.

I’m glad you did. We’re usually up early, but we had a couple of drinks and talked until late.

Cate poked her head out of the tent. Hi, Tracy, want some coffee?

Don’t mind if I do. Ben and his group will probably be here within the hour.

Mitch pulled on a pair of shorts and tee-shirt and crawled from the tent. At the river, he bent down, splashed the icy water on his face then wiped with the bottom of his shirt. Tracy made himself at home in one of the folding chairs.

Mitch, what do you think about the find yesterday?

Well, it’s hard to say. He prepared the coffee and sat the pot on the propane burner. I think the murders happened at least thirty to forty years ago. And I think it was some kind of planned execution. Why? I haven’t a clue. I don’t know if we’ll ever find out.

Those guys in DCI are good. If anyone can find out what happened, they will. We find bodies in the mountains often here in Wyoming. It’s rugged country. People get lost and we don’t find the bodies until years later. Usually it’s a hunter or hikers like yourselves that find them.

Does DCI have access to forensic anthropologists?

I know they’ve used one from the University of Wyoming in the past. It looks like they will have to this time as well.

Cate emerged from the tent dressed in shorts, tee-shirt and sandals. How’s that coffee coming?

Another minute and it’ll be ready. Honey, will you get me another cup from the jeep?

Mitch poured the coffee and passed the cups around. He sat on the short stump by the chairs.

Tracy took a sip of his coffee. Hey, good coffee. He took another sip. What do you guys do for a living?

Cate spoke up. I’m a psychologist with a private practice in Dallas and Mitch is a writer.

Tracy looked at Mitch. What do you write about?

I’m a paranormal investigator and I research and write about strange things.

Tracy chuckled. Looks like you’ve got fodder here for a story.

Possibly, it certainly seems strange enough. Cate had a dream last night related to the murders, but doesn’t know whether she should talk about it.

Cate sent a murderous glance at Mitch. I dreamt that the people who were killed were either Native American or Hispanic and two men did the killing.

That’s interesting. Maybe you should tell the sheriff when he comes.

I don’t know. Most people would think it’s odd that I would dream something like this.

I don’t think it’s that odd. You may have picked up some unconscious clues and your mind expanded on them.

It’s possible. It’s happened before. Last year I was almost murdered by a crazy killer and I dreamed about his victims.

Tracy raised an eyebrow. Mitch, I bet that must have been great story material for you.

It was. The book is at the publishers as we speak.

The sound of many vehicles drifted up from the road. They watched, as first the sheriff’s truck, then several more behind him, lumbered into the campsite. The three of them stood as the sheriff and his deputy got out of the truck and walked toward them.

Hey Tracy, I see you got here early.

Hi Ben, I thought I’d better get some of this great coffee before you guys came.

The sheriff nodded to Mitch and Cate and turned to introduce the DCI team.

Would you like some coffee? Mitch can make another pot.

No, Ma’am, I think we need to get started.

Jack Dumont, the lead investigator, asked Mitch to explain how he and Cate found the remains. He listened and then looked at Cate who corroborated Mitch’s story.

I don’t think it’ll be necessary for you and your wife to go back to the site. Sheriff Hightower says he can find the trail. He tells me that it’s marked with your wife’s scarf. We’ll make sure you get it back.

That’s a relief. I wasn’t looking forward to going through that trail again and neither was Cate.

Cate nodded. It’s okay about the scarf. It’s old and I don’t really need it. I have another one.

Dumont turned to his men. They had finished unloading their equipment and were helping each other stuff it in packs on their backs.

Are we ready? The men nodded. Okay, Ben, lead the way.

Cate and Mitch watched the men hike up the trail behind the sheriff and deputy.

Cate shook her head. I hope that deputy makes it. I watched him yesterday and thought I’d have to recall my CPR skills.

Tracy laughed. You’re right, Carl is out of shape, but he’s a sturdy enough guy. He’ll make it. The hike is good for him. He turned to Mitch. I’ll get going and let you two take down the tent and pack up. Where are you going to stay?

We’re going to Spenser and stay at the old hotel in town. Ben said he’d let them know we were coming today to ensure we had a room. I was there a couple of years ago and if it hasn’t changed, this should be a good experience for Cate. I remember the food was excellent.

Great place. They have a new chef and serve more than steaks now. I took my wife there for our anniversary a couple of months ago and the food was prepared well and tasty.

Thanks for the information.

Well, good luck you two. If I’m in the area, I’ll stop and have a drink with you.

They waved as he got into his truck and drove out of the area.

Cate, we’d better start moving. I’d like to be out of here before the sheriff gets back. We can leave him a note on his truck and let him know if he needs to talk to us again, we’ll be at the hotel.

Together they took down the tent and loaded the SUV. Mitch and Cate looked around the campsite, picked up a paper plate that had blown out of the trash and checked to make sure the fire was out. Mitch filled a bucket with water and poured it over the fire place and scattered the ashes. He poured a second bucket just to be sure. That should take care of it. Ready, Cate?

She was already heading for the SUV. A look of sadness crossed her face as they turned around and drove down the road. It was nice here, so quiet and pleasant. I hate to leave. We had such fun.

Yeah, I know honey, it was fun, but we’ve hardly touched on the fun we’re still going to have. This is a big state with lots of stuff yet to do and see.

Chapter Two

The town of Spenser, a typical Wyoming small town, catered to tourists and to anyone looking to get in touch with their inner cowboy, or cowgirl. The town planned activities