A Watery Grave in Yellowstone

By Raymond N. Kieft

In pursuit of her dream to view grizzly bears in the wild, the daughter of the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court is escorted into a remote area of northwest Yellowstone National Park by Beth Richardson, Associate Superintendent of Yellowstone. When the unexpected happens, former university president Parker Williams, owner of the Gold Medal Fly-Fishing Shop in West Yellowstone, Montana, is reluctantly drawn into a search and rescue mission which increasingly seems hopeless. Meanwhile, a pending vote by the nine justices of the United States Supreme Court on a controversial issue of national and historic proportions is playing out in Washington, D.C. Influenced by happenings in Yellowstone and orchestrated by a secretive organization headquartered in Idaho bent on changing the direction of the country, the vote of one justice means life or death unless Parker and Beth Richardson can accomplish the seemingly impossible. The involvement of an investigative reporter for The Washington Post and the participation of the FBI bring an unexpected twist to their mission.

A Watery Grave in Yellowstone is the fourth novel in the Yellowstone Mystery Series. All are set against the backdrop of the wonder and splendor of Yellowstone National Park, our nations premiere national park. As with the previous three novels, all royalties and proceeds for the sale of A Watery Grave in Yellowstone are shared equally between two national charitable organizations: Habitat for Humanity and Compassion International. No royalties are retained by the author. Readers wishing to learn more about these charities are referred to their respective websites.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499012446

Raymond N. Kieft

Raymond N. Kieft lives with his spouse in Denver, Colorado where he spends his time enjoying his five grandchildren, volunteering with Habitat for Humanity, and, during the non-winter months, fly-fishing throughout Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado. For more than thirty-five years, he has fly-fished in Yellowstone National Park and considers the greater Yellowstone region the premiere fly-fishing region within the lower forty-eight states. He periodically instructs classes of beginners in the essentials of fly-fishing and provides fly-fishing guide services to various locations in and around Yellowstone National Park. He welcomes comments, both pro and con, regarding his novels in the Yellowstone Mystery Series. His website is www.raykieft.com and e-mail address is [e-mail].

Book preview

PROLOGUE

H e could certainly use more time. More time meant more checking and with it increased certainty. However, more time wasn’t available. He had been given only so much time. A limited amount of time meant he hadn’t been able to double and triple-check some of the details of his plan. More time would have provided him the ability to make sure the details had all been covered. A detail here or there, which didn’t come off the way it needed to, might translate into major problems. Getting to this point involved compressing his original timeline. It meant pushing himself and his fellow patriots. What seemed, in theory, to be not much of a big deal turned out to be just that—a big deal.

Several times he had come close to giving up, especially those times when his fellow patriots, who said they believed in him, questioned his every suggestion and tried to undermine his credibility. He wondered at times if his fellow patriots actually believed to their core, as he did, in their cause. Sometimes he wondered if they were going through the motions so they could take advantage of the lifestyle afforded them by the ranch and the camaraderie it provided. In the end, however, all that mattered had been the Supreme Patriot’s support of his plan. Theory had then become reality when he was guaranteed the funds necessary to turn his plan into reality. However, even the support of the Supreme Patriot hadn’t stopped some of his fellow patriots from expressing their frustration with the pace of his work and the uncertainty of his plan actually succeeding the way he envisioned. They had questioned his plan actually working the way he had explained it to them. In the face of this criticism, maintaining outward strength and resolve had been emotionally draining. Nevertheless, he had prevailed.

Even with limited time and numerous questions, he had been able to review his plan to his satisfaction. He tried to anticipate any weak links. Of course, there were always aspects of any plan which harbored assumptions and questions, but he had tried to think those through as best he could. He had confided enough of his plan with a couple of true patriots in order to garner their assistance, but not to the extent that either of them or any one fellow patriot knew the plan in its entirety. Only the Supreme Patriot knew his entire plan. It was true that a secret didn’t remain a secret when three or more people knew it, so he purposefully made sure no one else knew the entire plan except the Supreme Patriot.

He had spent countless hours trying to anticipate how law enforcement officials or special operations teams might react or respond to his actions. Maybe he had devoted too much time. But it was necessary. It was an important aspect of his strategy for success. He wasn’t going to make the mistake of thinking the full weight and sophistication of Federal law enforcement agencies, primarily the FBI, weren’t going to be unleashed on him. He knew he had to be as prepared, as best he could be, to deal with whatever the Feds and law enforcement might bring.

One aspect, which had bothered him from the outset, was which law enforcement agency or special operations team would respond and how. He realized a response was inevitable. In a sense, he welcomed it. It would demonstrate the seriousness of his demands. He had built into his plan a response from one or more Federal agencies. Bring it on. I’m prepared for them. He would be surprised if the FBI wasn’t the law enforcement agency to respond. Possibly also the ATF. He didn’t count out Homeland Security. None caused him too great a concern. He knew how to anticipate how they would react. His plan involved steps to counter them. It was special operations teams that worried him. There was no way to anticipate who they might be or what their actions would entail. Local, state, and Federal law enforcement agencies followed a certain set of protocols and procedures with which he was well familiar and knew how to counter. Special operations teams didn’t have set rules. They operated outside the rules. Many were comprised of former military people who possessed training and experience which would prove to be formidable. He couldn’t anticipate how they might act and that bothered him. Rather than agonize further about it, he would cross that bridge if and when it happened.

One action he had taken to stall the automatic involvement of any Federal agencies was to establish his two small camps outside any Federal land. All kidnapping or abduction occurring within the boundaries Federal land was a Federal offense triggering the automatic involvement of Federal agencies. He counted on the uncertainty of his location, in terms of being on Federal, state, or private land, to bog down the law enforcement agencies in jurisdictional disputes. He was counting on arguments among agencies over jurisdiction to slow down law enforcement agencies becoming involved. Special operations teams were a different story. They had no reason to be concerned with jurisdiction or boundaries. That worried him.

Hauling the supplies, generators, fuel, asbestos coverings, and video and communication equipment to his two camps had gone better than he anticipated. Thanks to several cloudless nights with full, or almost full, moons, the work had gone better than he had hoped. He had lost track of the number of trips it had taken to haul what was required in each camp. Everything was now in place. Following the Daly Creek Trail for the first few miles had made the trips easier than if there was no established trail to follow. He had been extremely on edge using the two ATVs. Given the noise of the ATV’s, which couldn’t be masked, he expected to hear a helicopter or small plane approaching to investigate an unusual noise in the backcountry of Yellowstone National Park. In the backcountry of Yellowstone, miles from any road, silence was a given. Any noise was out of the ordinary. Away from the roads and campgrounds within Yellowstone, any noise raised questions. Noise also carried a great distance, definitely not a good thing for establishing the camps. Consequently, he had been doubly careful. He worried a Yellowstone employee or a backpacking tourist hiking in the area might be curious about the sounds or sites of ATVs and report their existence to Yellowstone officials. To his relief, nothing had happened. The ATVs were now parked, covered by tree branches and shrubs. They were essentially invisible from the air or through binoculars. The first phase of his plan had gone off without a hitch. So far, so good.

Looking over his first camp, he took pride in the manner in which it had been fashioned. He had lucked out finding such an ideal location. He wasn’t a particularly religious person, especially now that God was allowing the country to abandon the morals and ethics upon which it had been founded and thrived for more than two hundred years. He didn’t understand how God could allow the country to embrace a God-less, socialistic, and financially bankrupt agenda. Nevertheless, God had been good to him by guiding him to find the locations for the camps, especially this first one. He hadn’t believed his eyes when he came across the wide opening in the rock wall which now served as the primary aspect of the camp. He had followed the Daly Creek Trail to the cutoff for the Black Butte Trail, a minor trail used very little since most hikers and backpack campers were headed toward Daly Pass and the subsequent Daly Valley. A remote valley on the northwest region of Yellowstone National Park, Daly Valley was known as a favorite area for grizzly bears to reside. Along the Black Butte Trail, about four miles past the Black Butte cutoff, were several heavily forested hillsides with various rock walls in a variety of shapes and sizes, many with indentations, crevices, and overhanging outcroppings. He established this camp by utilizing a large opening in a rock wall which measured approximately one hundred feet in width, thirty-five feet in depth, and fifteen feet in height. When he first saw it, he felt it would be the perfect place to establish the first camp. He was particularly prideful of the roof of asbestos he had built to place over the shed-like structure which stood in front of the opening. Using lodgepole pine trunks, like the Native Americans had done hundreds of years earlier to support their lodges, he attached sheets of asbestos to the trunks, laid the trunks side-by-side to form a roof, and covered the trunks with pine branches to make it appear part of the pine forest. The asbestos was necessary to keep any warmth from their generators, cooking, or themselves from being detected by infra-red, heat seeking satellites or such apparatus attached to helicopters or airplanes, or carried by law enforcement officials. He was counting that with all types of animals, big and small, throughout the area, the ability to distinguish warmth coming from animals and warmth that might escape from the camp would be difficult. Nevertheless, he wasn’t taking any chances. Hence the asbestos cover. Mosquito netting had been hung making the sleeping area tolerable. The cooking area was small and used only in the middle of the day when heat from the two Coleman stoves wasn’t much different than the outdoor temperature. Limiting themselves to staying under the asbestos roof or inside the opening would test their patience and their tolerance for being together in close quarters. He had arranged the timeline so that Doug and Bonnie would be gone for the majority of time executing their responsibilities, which would reduce the closeness of everyone being together in such a limited space.

They had earlier had their final briefing and reviewed their individual assignments. The time had arrived. Now or never. Bonnie had stayed behind to await the arrival of their guest and himself. Doug and he had taken an ATV to the interception location. Doug would walk Stacey VanEssen’s escort back to the Daly Creek trailhead while Matt used the ATV to take Stacey to a predetermined location. The ATV would remain there until later. Bonnie would meet them with the other ATV and the three of them would cover the remaining distance to the camp.

He was still amazed at how easily it had been to determine where to intercept Stacey VanEssen and her companion. The Yellowstone News, a publication of the Information Office of the Yellowstone administration, had included an article describing the hiking trip of Associate Superintendent Beth Richardson and Stacey VanEssen, daughter of Supreme Court Chief Justice Jacob VanEssen. The author of the article included quotes from an interview with Stacey VanEssen which provided details of the places she wanted to visit or see during her excursion. The best news, as far as he was concerned, was two women would not be accompanied by anyone else. According to the article, VanEssen had insisted Richardson and she be alone. VanEssen had been quoted as saying it would be less likely to spook animals if fewer people were moving and generating noise than would be the case with a larger group moving over rocks, stones, and through heavy shrubbery. The article also stated Richardson would be carrying a satellite phone, emergency locator, bear spray, and tranquilizing rifle. She had been quoted saying they would never be out of contact and would be able to signal if they had an emergency. The rifle was equipped with tranquilizer darts which, the article claimed, would ward off any inquisitive or nasty bear and disable a threatening wolf, coyote, or other disagreeable predator. Good luck with a charging female grizzly, if she has cubs to protect. Your tranquilizer darts aren’t going to do the trick. That’s what your bear spray is for. But you probably know that. Your handgun isn’t very worthwhile either.

A critical aspect of his plan working, as he had envisioned it, was to make sure Richardson didn’t have time to activate either her satellite phone or the emergency locator signal. The handgun, bear spray, and rifle would come next in that order. He was counting on taking the two women totally by surprise. He had scouted the various places mentioned in the news article and settled on a place along the Daly Creek Trail which dipped down and through a boulder field. Several large boulders next to the trail provided excellent cover. Since the trail sloped down and was covered with small rocks and stones, he knew the women would be looking down to keep from slipping or stumbling. Doug and he had rehearsed numerous times the grabbing and disabling of the two women. He had given the more difficult assignment to himself. He thought dealing with Richardson would be more difficult than with VanEssen. He didn’t know the extent of Richardson’s training in close quarters encounters, but she was a Yellowstone employee and that meant she probably had training in outdoor survival and how to react to unexpected occurrences in the outdoors. On the other hand, VanEssen was a visitor from the east coast. She, most likely, had little, if any, training in outdoor techniques associated with dealing with an unexpected occurrence. Consequently, Doug would confront and subdue VanEssen. He would do the same with Richardson. Surprise and quickness were essential.

It wouldn’t be long now. From his hiding place behind the large boulder, he crawled to the top of the rise and looked down the trail. His heart beat faster as he saw two figures coming toward him, one dressed in the familiar green uniform of the National Park Service. Thanks, Beth Richardson, for making it so easy to distinguish you from Stacey VanEssen. He quickly crawled back to his hiding place. Taking the ski mask and gloves, he pulled the mask over his head. Putting the gloves on, he knew Doug would be doing the same. Only a few more minutes and then there would be no turning back.

CHAPTER 1

Monday 7:30 a.m. MDT

O ther duties as assigned, the catch-all phrase in the employment contracts of all national park exempt employees, was operational today, Beth Richardson reminded herself as she hiked along the Daly Creek Trail. Taking two or three days out of her schedule to hike and camp overnight, when numerous responsibilities and duties required her attention, was not one of her normal duties. To be honest, she resented the imposition on her life. Doing what she was now doing was a hindrance in accomplishing what she needed to accomplish. However, she knew these days were important for Yellowstone and, indirectly, for her. The Superintendent had specifically asked her to do this. The forcefulness of the request made her realize saying no wasn’t an option. She usually never hesitated to get away from her office and be out and about the nation’s premiere national park. Many people would jump at an opportunity to have the incomparable setting called Yellowstone National Park at their doorstep. She never tired of being surrounded by the grandeur and beauty of Yellowstone, but babysitting an Ivy League type, Washington D.C., spoiled elitist daughter of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court was not how she envisioned spending her time in the splendor of Yellowstone. Nevertheless, here she was.

Realizing what she would be doing and who she would be with for the next few days, she had quickly accomplished some research regarding Chief Justice Jacob VanEssen and, more importantly, his daughter Stacey VanEssen. Beth had learned Jacob VanEssen had become Chief Justice of the Supreme Court when his only daughter, Stacy, was eleven years old. Jacob VanEssen’s wife and Stacey’s mother had passed away from pancreatic cancer when Stacey was thirteen. Rumor had it Jacob promised his wife, during her final living hours, that no other woman would enter Stacey’s life to try and assume the role of mother. If true, it explained why he was consistently seen without female companions. His status made him one of Washington D.C.’s most eligible bachelors. More often than not, he attended the numerous black tie and high society events in the D.C. area unaccompanied by none other than his daughter. It seemed strange to people, but he didn’t seem to notice or care what the gossip columnists in D.C., magazines, and newspapers said about it.

During Stacey’s formative teen years, a parade of nannies attempted to provide day-to-day direction and discipline to a teenager being given everything by a father overcompensating for being in absentia due to the demands of his position on the high court. The nannies walked on eggshells for fear of retribution from a father who didn’t understand his teenage daughter and thought by pampering and ignoring the signs of rebellion and arrogance, all would turn out well. Now in her junior year at Wellesley College, one of New England’s elite bastions of private higher education for blue-blood women and women from families of wealth, Stacey had come close to being asked to leave due to attitudinal issues and behavior inconsistent with the standards of Wellesley. Her father’s status had probably been the factor which kept her at the institution. Always harboring a cause, she had recently embraced the green movement where everything in her worldview was about the environment—protecting and preserving it. Animals on-again and off-again the Endangered Species List were her latest passion. Her embrace of the environmental movement explained the reason for her now hiking the Daly Creek Trail heading for Daly Valley. The greater Yellowstone area was the only remaining ecosystem in the lower forty-eight supporting a healthy population of grizzly bears. She was determined to view grizzlies in natural surroundings. She considered zoos to be cruel and had joined various groups protesting zoos and working to eliminate them. Viewing grizzlies in their natural state unencumbered by humans was the reason for her coming to Yellowstone. She had flirted with traveling to Alaska where grizzlies abounded, but had settled on Yellowstone.

Two years earlier, two female grizzlies had been outfitted with tracking collars enabling Yellowstone wildlife officers to keep tabs on their whereabouts. Both bears had established their respective home ranges in the northwest corner of Yellowstone, one in the Black Butte area, the other in the Daly Valley area. The bear in the Daly Valley area had become a mother during the past year and was shepherding her two cubs through their learning process. Affectionately referred to as Mother Daly, it was she and her cubs which had captivated Stacey’s interest and were the objects of this trip into the backcountry of Yellowstone. Anything short of not viewing Mother Daly and her cubs would be considered a failure. Beth was determined for that to not happen. Yellowstone could use all the positive publicity it could receive. The daughter of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court telling the media about her enjoyable experience in Yellowstone was worth a great deal. When it came time for the budget of the Interior Department to be distributed to the various national parks, having positive publicity featuring the daughter of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court would be a huge plus.

Beth was carrying a mobile tracking device programmed to locate the collar worn by Mother Daly. She would activate the device once Stacey and she were about one mile from Daly Valley. Beth also carried, in her backpack, a satellite phone, SPOT emergency locator, binoculars, first-aid kit, water purifier, insect repellent, and sunscreen. Her 9-millimeter Glock handgun was holstered on her belt next to bear spray, which was in its own holster. It was commonly not known, except to big animal handlers and others with education and training regarding the tendencies and actions of big animals, that handguns had the force of bb guns when it came to stopping a charging grizzly bear, bull elk, or bison. Bear spray was much more effective in stopping a charging animal. Bear spray, when used effectively, created a nasty cloud-like barrier. When inhaled, it caused the animal to forget all about continuing to charge and reverse course as quickly as possible to get away from the cloud of spray. The handgun was more for show than anything else, Beth knew, but it seemed to provide a sense of security as did the tranquilizing rifle she had in a sling over her shoulder.

She had to admit Stacey was a much better hiker than Beth had envisioned. When first informed of whom she would be leading on the trip, Beth envisioned an urban, pretend-to-be-an-outdoor woman who might last a couple miles before calling it quits. Instead, Stacey had surprised Beth with her vigor and fortitude. They had already traveled nearly five miles over rather uneven terrain and Stacey hadn’t asked to stop once or complained. Another half mile and they would reach the cutoff to the Black Butte Trail. They would take a break there before beginning what was a long climb up and over Daly Pass. Once over the pass, it would be downhill into Daly Valley. But first, they had to make their way through a small, rock-walled canyon and through a boulder field where some boulders were as large as boxcars. It was important they not sprain an ankle or worse yet, break an ankle or leg as they made their way over a small rise and descended into a low area covered with small rocks and rubble. She would diplomatically remind Stacey to not look ahead but watch where she stepped. Once safely through this area, the climb up and over Daly Pass would be on more even terrain and provide a vista unmatched in grandeur. Yellowstone wasn’t considered the most awe inspiring national park for nothing. Its vastness and diversity were unparalleled. Beth never took for granted the beauty it conveyed. A corner of paradise was how see saw Yellowstone.

CHAPTER 2

Monday 7:45 a.m. MDT

I won’t be denied. To be in the wild and view a mother grizzly with her cubs is as good as it gets. Maybe being among the animal population of the African Serengeti Plain is better, but I’ll take this. What an incredible place. Yellowstone is even more spectacular that I thought. Stacey had read a great deal about Yellowstone and its wildlife. Now, here she was. She realized this personalized trip to view a grizzly and cubs wouldn’t be happening if her last name wasn’t VanEssen and her father wasn’t the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. It wasn’t her fault she had the privileges of a celebrity’s daughter. She didn’t ask for them. She heard the talk about her being pampered and spoiled, and maybe she was. What am I supposed to do about it? People don’t realize being the daughter of a high profile government official isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I always have to play a certain role. I can’t just be myself. Even now, she felt she had to maintain a certain decorum with this Associate Superintendent who was leading her. Thank goodness a woman was assigned to lead and accompany me. A man would have created a whole set of potential problems. She could see ahead and saw they would be walking through a small, rock-walled canyon and then over a boulder field filled with some massive boulders. If her memory served her right, she recalled reading the Black Butte Trail cutoff was at the far end of the boulder field. From there, they would begin a steady ascent to Daly Pass. Once over the pass, they would descend into the home range of the grizzly bear known as Mother Daly. Anticipation filled her as she realized they would be there in only a few hours.

Her thoughts turned to her father. She wished she could do something to reduce the turmoil he was experiencing over the upcoming vote by the Supreme Court. The vote was on the constitutionality of a controversial law which a lower court had allowed to stand. The law had passed by a single vote in the Massachusetts Legislature and had been signed into law by the Massachusetts Governor. It was referred to as the gun confiscation law. It made mandatory every adult owning any type of gun, who was a parent with a child seventeen years or younger or was the legal guardian of a child seventeen years or younger, to inform law enforcement agencies regarding her or his possession of the gun. The law enforcement agency could then decide to confiscate the gun without any reason being given other than there was a minor under the age of eighteen residing in a legal relationship with the gun owner. The law had been enacted following the tragic murders of children and teachers in the Bridge Crossing Middle School in New Hampshire and the horrendous killing of thirteen and injury of several other movie theatre attendees in Aurora, Colorado. The gun confiscation law had quickly become a national issue of enormous consequences with accusations and vitriolic counter-accusations regarding privacy rights, gun rights, gun control, civil liberties, and 2nd Amendment rights being hurled back and forth in the press, talk radio, cable news, social media, and around water coolers in millions of offices and over lattes in thousands of coffee shops. The eyes of the other forty-nine states were on the Supreme Court. If the Court allowed the law to stand, experts said it would probably be adopted by other states. Congress would probably also legislate a similar law which would apply nationwide. The President would certainly sign such a law. On the other hand, if the Court ruled the Massachusetts law unconstitutional, it would be the death knell for any similar proposal being advanced by any state or even by Congress. While her father had said nothing to her, she knew, from the headlines and