Duty Calls - by Deborah

Prompts were: fish, jealousy, telephone call

Anna loved her job as a ranger in New York’s Harriman State Park. The years spent in college studying environmental science and law enforcement had been well worth it in her opinion. She didn’t earn much money, but she didn’t need to. She was able to catch trout for dinner several nights a week and the living quarters were provided for free in the immense and beautiful state park. It had been enough to support Robert as he chased his own dream of being a wildlife photographer. He was finally becoming successful at it and Anna was thrilled. Both of them not even thirty and they’d already achieved their career goals. Robert’s latest success had been as an associate photographer on a National Geographic photo shoot. Life was good indeed.

The shrill sound of the phone woke her at three in the morning. She was instantly aware of the empty space in the bed next to her. Robert had flown to Vancouver last night for a shoot in Scientific American; soon to be another feather in his cap.

“Yes?” she answered tiredly.

It was Steve, her boss. “Anna, sorry to wake you but we’ve got a situation on Crow’s Nest Mountain and you’re the closest ranger.”

She came awake instantly, grabbing the notepad and pencil on the night stand. “What is it?” she asked.

“Dispatch got a call from a guy camping up on Lorilard Trail. He’d set up camp tonight near a couple up there on their honeymoon or something, judging by the description. Said he and his family had run across them skinny dipping in the creek up there. Can you imagine doing that this time of year? That water’s got to be about 50 degrees! Anyway, this couple had been all lovey-dovey, but apparently there was a loud argument that started about an hour ago. The guy said he heard two gunshots and then no more yelling. He’s got his kids with him and didn’t want to check it out personally. They’re on their way back to the ranger station now. Can’t blame him - I wouldn’t risk it with my family around.”

“I hear you. I can be there in 15 minutes,” she told him. “How long ago did he hear the gunshots?”

“About 10 minutes ago now. I hope it’s nothing but we need to take a look. Radio me immediately if things don’t look right and I’ll call in backup.”

“On my way,” she said, hanging up the phone and reaching for the uniform she’d discarded next to the bed only hours before. Within minutes, she was out the door and in her Jeep. She headed down the drive and turned toward the road that led to Lorilard Trail.

The trail was used mostly by families and amateur campers. There was no real hiking involved; a rutted lane accessible to most cars led to campsites spread out about a half-mile from each other.

Her stomach clenched and tension settled in her shoulders. This was the least enjoyable part of her job. She could deal with the Eastern diamondback rattlesnakes, black bears, and the occasional rabid fox and lynx. But when you added people to the mix, nothing was predictable.

She found the couple’s campsite easily – they were the only ones in residence on the trail. She could see two bodies lying on the ground, unmoving. She approached slowly, drawing her service revolver as she exited her vehicle. The woman, wearing only panties, lay dead with her eyes open and a gunshot wound to her head. In her hand was a large caliber handgun. She was young and beautiful and Anna’s gut clenched at the thought of the wasted life in front of her. She turned her attention to the man lying face down next to the dead woman and realized he was still alive. His breath came in short, wet gulps. She leaned down and gently turned him over.

She looked at Robert’s face, as stunned as if someone had slapped her. He had a gaping chest wound where the bullet had entered his body.

“Anna…help me,” he whispered.

An angry, jealous haze colored her vision as the taste of bile entered her mouth. This was his trip to Vancouver? Was this also his trip to Wyoming two weeks ago? She stared into his lying eyes, her mind reeling.

Her radio crackled to life. “Anna, are you on the scene yet?” Steve asked.

Staring into Robert’s pleading eyes, she pulled the radio from her belt and answered, “I’m here and it looks like they shot each other. They’re both dead. You’d better call the State in. Take your time. These two aren’t going anywhere.”

“Ten four,” Steve answered.

Anna caressed Robert’s cheek and then turned him face down again, as she’d found him. She gently but firmly pushed his face into the soft, thick bed of pine needles and earth. He struggled feebly for less than two minutes and was silent.