Page 40 of God’s Country

“What about him?” Ollie pointed his Glock at Tucker Jackson.

“You move, you do anything we don’t like, and your daughter gets hurt, understood?”

“Understood,” Tucker said. “But if she comes to any harm—”

“You’ll what?” Ollie said. It was clear that any goodwill the discussion of firearms might have generated had gone down the drain.

“She’ll be fine,” I told Tucker. “You just stay put.”

“You two buddies or what?” Ollie said. “It’s like you know each other.”

“Just in the same boat now,” I replied.

“Whatever,” Ollie said.

Stan said to me, “Lead on.”

As I pointed out earlier, every BWCAW campsite has a pit toilet. I took the group down the path that led to the little latrine. We passed it and made our way through the undergrowth beneath the firs and aspens to the base of the cliff. We stirred up more mosquitoes and blackflies along the way, and Ollie swore a string of curses the whole time. Stan was plagued by these buzzing pests as well, his irritation growing. But the bugs didn’t seem nearly as interested in Leticia or me. Good karma? Or was there something about the auras of the two brothers that invited the little predators to feast on them instead? I figured Henry Meloux would have something to say about that.

“Up there,” I said and pointed at the obvious fold in the rock wall.

“I don’t see anything,” Ollie said grumpily.

“I saw it from out in the bay,” I said.

“You sure?” Stan said.

“You’ll shoot me if I’m wrong, so why would I lie?”

“I don’t see any way up,” Stan said.

“It won’t be easy. But if you look carefully, you can see places where fingers and toes might find a hold. Your father made it. But you and Ollie, you’d probably fall and kill yourselves. The girl has a chance. What do you think?” This last question I addressed to Leticia.

She stared up at that sheer rock face for a long time.

“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Stan said.

“You let my father go.”

The same deal I’d struck with them about Cordell. I liked this young woman’s thinking.

“He’s no good to you,” I said. “He’ll probably die trying to get himself out. What have you got to lose?” I pointed up at the cleave in Devil’s Bottom. “And you’ve got everything to gain.”

“He’d agree to leave you behind?” Stan said.

“If it’s a choice between that or dying,” she said. “And you have to promise that once I get you what you want, you’ll let me go, too. And him.” She pointed at me.

“You think you’re in any position to bargain?” Ollie said. “Hell, I can climb up there.”

“Be my guest,” I said.

He handed the Glock to Stan. “They try anything, shoot them in the leg.” He looked at me, then Leticia. “Maybe not her. She might still come in handy.”

Stan stood well away from us so that he could keep us both in his gunsight. Then he said to his brother, “Don’t fall.”

To which Ollie replied, “Duh.” Then he put his hands on the cliff face and began to climb. He grunted his way up half a dozen feet, which took him a couple of minutes, then his foot slipped and he fell. He lay at the base of the cliff, swearing up a storm and holding his arm, which was oozing blood from an ugly cut.