Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 03 - Trouble at Glacier Read Online Free Page B

beginning to wonder if I’m a magnet for death.”
    Nonsense, Minerva! No such thing. A death magnet indeed. Ben’s voice softened. I do not think you have done anything to incite these events but have merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time, as they say. In this case, at least, there is no mystery to solve. John must have been attacked by the black bear that we saw.
    I nodded and sighed, then held my breath and listened for sounds outside of my RV—sounds of another bear attack, running feet, Amanda’s scream next door when she found her husband dead, sirens, but it was eerily silent at the moment.
    I took a deep breath and rose.
    Minerva! Ben warned me.  
    I couldn’t help myself. I peeked out the door.  
    In the distance, I heard sirens approaching. Although I couldn’t see anything in the darkness, I suspected the park rangers, local law enforcement and an ambulance were on the way. I wondered what would happen to the bear. I’d read enough about bear encounters to know they would search for it and destroy it, especially after it had killed a human.
    I hovered inside the open door, staring into the night.
    Minerva, if I were a frightened, angry bear, I might very well push right past you and hide in your RV. Please close the door.
    I sighed. “You’re right, as usual. It’s just hard sitting here not knowing what’s going on. Why did we come to Glacier National Park again? Remind me.”
    You said you had always wanted to see the park, and so here we are. I too longed to see this wilderness. Try not to let this unfortunate event ruin the rest of your stay here, Minerva. Encounters between humans and wild animals often result in injury to one or the other.  
    “I know,” I said. In the dark distance, I saw flashing red and blue lights, and white spotlights from vehicles. I presumed emergency vehicles had arrived at the campground host’s location and moved on foot into the woods.
    “They’re here,” I said mournfully. “The police.”
    Close the door, Minerva. The lights will only frighten the bear more. He was here at your campsite once tonight. He could possibly return.
    I shut the door and returned to the couch. I couldn’t possibly go to sleep, nor was I interested in reading or trying to get my TV satellite to work in the forest.
    Restlessly, I grabbed my laptop computer, popped it open and turned on my mobile Internet device. I scanned the local news, but nothing had been reported yet.
    I drafted an email to my favorite law enforcement person, my ex-husband, chief of police in a small Colorado city. His name was John as well, and I had thought of him off and on ever since I had met John earlier in the day. They shared the same blond hair color. Or Amanda’s John had shared the same color. I bit my lip to hold back more tears.
    Hello ex
    You may remember that I told you I was heading to Glacier National Park for a wonderful week of sightseeing and wildlife viewing. Lo and behold, on my first night here, I saw some wildlife, that’s for sure. A black bear had been wandering the campground, and he came right to the edge of my site. As much as I wanted to see him in daylight, he scared the dickens out of me in the dark.
    He took off and just a few minutes later, I heard a scream in the woods. When I went to find out what happened, I found a camping neighbor dead, his throat slashed, presumably by the same bear. I guess I’m lucky the bear didn’t attack me. I don’t know why he didn’t.  
    I don’t know what to think. I’ll keep you updated.
    Your ex-wife
    I sent the email, hoping as usual that Ben had opted not to read over my shoulder.
    Several sharp knocks on the door startled me, and I gasped.  
    Bears do not knock, my dear. It appears to be the park rangers you spoke with earlier today.
    I ran to the door.  
    Ranger Jackson stood at the foot of my steps, a grim look on his normally smiling face. Ranger Schwin stood beside him.
    “I’m sorry to bother you, Miss, but I’m