row first and get your opinions? Please state your name and tell us how long you’ve been with the department.”
Cole heard a lot of grudge theories, but nothing specific. When it came to his turn, he got to his feet. “I’m Cole Hawkins. I grew up right here in Whitebark and went to college in Boulder, Colorado. While I was studying, I also trained to become a firefighter with the Boulder Fire Department. I planned to come home to the ranch after graduation and combine my work with firefighting the way my dad did.”
He looked at the commissioner. “When you were giving the statistics, I was curious to know if this kind of an outbreak with this same set of circumstances is unique to this year only.”
The older man shook his head. “We saw this happen last year to six ranches, but this year’s number of outbreaks has increased and summer isn’t over.”
“Were the fires set at the same time of year last year?”
“Come to think of it, yes, around the end of April and running through August.”
“If you had a map of last year’s locations of fires, where would they be?”
He stared at Cole. “I’m not sure.”
Chief Powell broke in. “I’ll get on the computer right now and we’ll find out.” Within minutes he had the answer. “All of them were near the Winds.”
Cole got excited. “Then that cycle fits with the fire locations on the map you just handed out to us. Notice that every ranch targeted this year and last is close to the Bridger Wilderness.”
At this point he’d caught everyone’s attention.
“There’s a war going on between the ranchers hunting the elk coming down from the mountain onto their property, and the ranchers who are against elk hunting.”
“Go on,” the commissioner urged him.
“Years ago, the elk in the snow country came down to the desert to find food, hay particularly. They ate in the cattle feed grounds where the cattle carried brucellosis disease that caused the cattle to abort. It was transferred to the elk. By the 1930s, calves were dying and humans started getting sick with undulant fever, until pasteurization came along. It’s been a battle ever since to eradicate the disease.
“You want a reason for these fires? I believe they’ve been set to warn the ranchers allowing the hunting. The conservationists want the elk rerouted down to the desert in different migration paths that don’t come into contact with the cattle feed lines so the disease won’t spread.
“But other ranchers want to bring in the big game hunters who pay a lot of money for the elk hunt. With the hay left out and exposed, the elk are lured to the ranches, thus ensuring plenty of elk for a good hunt. A lot of hay could feed a thousand cattle a day, and the elk, too.”
“How do you know so much about this?”
“When I was young, my father used to complain about the brucellosis disease that caused cattle to abort. He hoped that one day it would be eradicated. By the time I went to college, I decided to go into that field and ended up getting my master’s to be a brucellosis ecologist.
“I learned that some cattle brought into the States by early European settlers carried this disease. In my role as an ecologist, we’re trying to manage the disease and lower it in the elk herds so it’s less likely to spill over into cattle.”
Orson Perone stood up. “Mr. Hawkins is absolutely right about this. A few years ago there was a small town near the Owl Creek Mountains where the elk had spread disease to a local cattle herd. The fish and game had to depopulate the herd. This caused the ranchers to go bankrupt and the pattern is still the same today. Unfortunately it made for bad relations.”
The commissioner looked at Cole. “So it’s your contention that there’s a group of cattle ranchers sending messages to the ranchers who allow elk hunting to stop luring the elk with hay, and they’re resorting to arson to make their point.”
Cole nodded. “It makes sense to me considering that all sixteen fires were set in an attempt to destroy the hay as soon as it’s harvested.”
A collective silence filled the room. The older man smiled at Cole. “Well, aren’t we glad you came back home and joined our fire department? I think you’re really on to something here.”
“I know he is.” Holden Granger had gotten to his feet. “I was born and raised in Cody, Wyoming, before I moved here. Our family’s ranch suffered a loss of cattle from that disease when I was young. No one ever established a link with the diseased elk that often came to the cattle feed grounds from the Absaroka Mountains.”
At this point Chief Powell took over. “Now that we’ve been educated, we’ll explain about the disease in the warning fliers and have them ready by next Monday. By hand or through the mail we’ll make certain they’re distributed to all the ranchers, urging them to take emergency precautions to ward off the arsonists plaguing parts of Sublette County.”
“Excellent,” Holden commented. “With this information, I’m going to get together with the county prosecutor. With the cooperation of Norm and Orson, particularly, we can start making lists of ranchers who’ve never applied for hunting licenses or permits. I’d like to know when and where this group of arsonists meets. That means we’ll need a warrant from the judge.
“Setting fires isn’t the solution to eradicating the disease. We’ll canvas every store that sells accelerants. This is only the beginning.” He nodded to Cole. “I’d like to talk to you alone. When you have time, drop by the police station.”
“If you want, I’ll come now because I’ll be leaving for the mountains on my job as soon we’re finished and be gone four days.”
“Then come with me.”
Cole turned to Wyatt. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
“I plan on it.”
Everyone shook Cole’s hand before he left with the sheriff. But he was weighed down with worry because Tamsin’s father had been targeted and it could happen again before the summer was over. He needed to talk to her and warn her, but he’d have to do that when he got back.
While he was packing his gear to leave for the mountains, he got a text from Patsy Janis.
Call me ASAP. I’ve got big news.
Cole shook his head. He’d only been home five days and already she couldn’t leave him alone. She never gave up. He’d met the good-looking local country singer two years ago in Colorado at a concert in Boulder. He’d grown up on country music, playing the guitar and composing his own songs. Early on he’d made certain to sign up with ASCAP to get his songs copyrighted.
Patsy had a lot of talent and was featured weekends at a local club near the campus with lots of college students and wannabe musicians who got together to jam. It was definitely his kind of place and a great outlet when he’d had a surfeit of studying and needed to get away from it for a little while.
She’d found out he composed music, too, and coaxed him to let her sing some of his songs. Pretty soon, he was accompanying her on his guitar while she sang his tunes for their enthusiastic audience. Everyone wanted to hear more.
Little
