“Rim-rocked?” she asked.
“It means riding or climbing up into rocks and boulders but not being able to get back down,” he said.
“Great,” D’Amato said.
“But there’s an upside,” Jed said. “We may discover some thermal activity and see vistas and wildlife we’d never experience any other way. There are over ten thousand thermal features up here in this park, and who knows what we might find in the kind of virgin territory I’m talking about.”
“I’m from Brooklyn,” D’Amato said. “I do not know of this virgin territory.”
Which got a laugh out of Donna Glode, if no one else.
“The other thing,” Jed said, “is we’re likely to get to our next camp even earlier than the normal route, since we’re kind of cutting the corner. We might even discover a shortcut.
“Of course,” he said, “we don’t have to try this new route at all. We can stay on our trail and give it our best shot despite the mud and the potential of washouts. I just want you all to know there is an option available.”
He stopped talking. Jed knew one sure way of killing a sale was to oversell it. He wanted the group to come to their own consensus without him appearing to force it.
No one, it seemed, wanted to speak first.
Then Russell said, “We’d be like the Lewis and Clark Expedition. We’d be going through a part of Yellowstone Park practically no one has ever been through. That appeals to me, at least. I like being an explorer.”
D’Amato cracked in a bad pirate voice, “Beware, there be monsters.”
Knox said, “‘Back of back of beyond,’ we’ll call it. I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” Donna Glode said. “Bring on the adventure!” She rubbed her hands together in what Jed thought was an overplay designed to show the Wall Streeters-D’Amato in particular-she was with them.
Walt said, “Is there still good fishing this new route?”
Jed said, “It looks like it, anyway. Those creeks I mentioned earlier, Phlox and Chipmunk, plus Badger Creek. One thing for sure, they haven’t been fished much. So you and Justin might be in for a rare treat-native cutthroat trout that’ve never seen an artificial fly.”
Walt nodded and smiled. “I like that idea,” he said.
“I think I’m in,” Sullivan said. “I think my girls would like the idea of seeing country no one has seen for a long time. I know I would. Go big or go home, I say.”
Jed noticed that Rachel Mina shot Sullivan an approving look.
Tristan stood up, and turned away from Jed to address the group. “I feel it’s my obligation to bring something up,” he said, the back of his shoulder to Jed. “What Jed is suggesting is kind of radical. We don’t have radios or cell phones. The only thing the Park Service knows about us-or our families at home-is where we’re supposed to be from day to day. So if we don’t show up at the end they know where to look. If we deviate from the trail and get lost or ‘rim-rocked,’ no one will know where to find us.”
Tristan said, “I’ve had a lot of success in my life by determining where I want to get to and staying the course. It’s when my partners convinced me to deviate from the plan that I failed. What Jed is suggesting here is trading in a sure thing-even though it might be unpleasant for a while-for a flier filled with unknown variables. I’d rather stay the course. It’s what I-and all of you-paid for.”
Even Jed conceded to himself Tristan was persuasive.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Tristan,” Donna said, “didn’t you just hear him? You are such a tight-ass. This isn’t a product launch. I thought the purpose of this trip was for us to experience high adventure. Isn’t that what you said?”
Tristan didn’t answer her, but even in the firelight Jed could tell his face flushed red. She had embarrassed him, cut his feet out from under him. And his argument. Jed felt the momentum shift back.
“I’m in,” Knox said. “The worst that could happen is I never make it back to the firm to be at my desk when I get laid off.”
“Damn right,” Russell said. “Me, too.”
D’Amato covered his face with his hands as if horrified, then squeaked, “Me, three.”
Jed looked around. All in favor, one opposed, one not heard from.
“Mr. Wilson?” he asked, expecting it to go five-two.
Wilson said nothing, but his glare was intense.
Jed tried to read Wilson’s eyes, and what he saw was genuine surprise. As if he’d had his feet cut out from him, too. Finally, because all the attention had turned toward him, Wilson said, “That’s fine. I’ll go with the majority.”
Tristan looked around, and said, “I’ll have to decide tomorrow if we’ll even stay with this expedition.”
His words fell heavily, until Donna said, “Speak for yourself, kemosabe.”
Humiliated again, Tristan Glode stormed past Jed, headed for the tents. Over his shoulder, he said, “Democracy is no way to run a business, Jed. You’ll need to learn that.”
After a beat, Knox said, “I don’t think he likes losing arguments.”
“You think?” D’Amato said. “Man, what a buzz kill.”
“Welcome to my life,” Donna said, sliding across the ground toward D’Amato and taking the bottle of tequila from his hands.
Rachel Mina was curt: “Good night, everyone.” She strode away from the fire, followed by Sullivan.
“Okay then,” Jed said, taking the rest of his bottle from Walt, who’d gotten stuck with it. “We’ve got a decision. That means it’s going to be a real interesting day tomorrow, and we’ll be getting up early.”
“Interesting,” D’Amato said, repeating the word and getting up. “As if today was boring.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Jed said, smiling.
Jed turned to the sound of Rachel and Sullivan arguing in the dark near the tents. He saw Dakota standing there, glaring at him. He wondered how much she’d heard.
That question was answered when she slowly shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.
21
Framed by the pulsing wig-wag lights that painted the stone walls and arched windows of the front of the Gallatin Gateway Inn in vivid reds and blues, Cody Hoyt tossed the duffel he’d saved into the back of his Ford. He had trouble breathing due to the smoke inhalation and he coughed violently and spattered the back windows with globules of black sputum.
Behind him, guests gathered in knots in the front yard. The staff who’d helped evacuate them formed a perimeter with several firemen and now a few deputies who’d just arrived. Cody had slipped away while they all watched a bucket truck back across the lawn toward the hotel. He paused to take it all in before entering the Ford. His room on the second floor was easy to spot because of the bright orange glow of flames from inside. Several firefighters had climbed into the bucket and were now being raised toward the second level. When they were even with the orange window, the bucket paused and swayed a bit while a horizontal column of water blasted through the window. When the glass broke a ball of flame shot out of the frame accompanied by gasps from the guests on the lawn.
He noted the fire seemed to have stayed within his room and not spread to any others, no doubt due to the sprinkler system. Cody guessed it would be short work now to put it out and gain control of the building. It wouldn’t be long before the investigators figured out who had been staying in the room and would want to question him.
He swung inside the Ford and it was immediately filled with the acrid smell of the smoke from his clothes and hair. His bare skin stung from exposure to the fire, and when he brushed his forearm with his other hand the singed hair on it broke and fell off.