I practically run back to my rental car. Cell service is super spotty.
I drive almost 40 minutes before I can get a clear signal.
But by then I reach the Ranger Station, so I stop in.
It’s Forest Service land and they have their own Law Enforcement.
“I would like to, um, I mean, I need to report a dead couple.”
The front desk administrator gives me a quizzical look.
“A couple of dead what?”
“Oh, sorry, people. Dead people who are, uh, were, a couple.”
She stops typing and gives me a librarian look over her glasses.
“I’ll need some more information Miss?”
“Kwan, Bobby Kwan, Private Investigator.”
A quick double take.
(I’m used to that)
“Ok, Ms. Kwan. Assuming you are actively investigating something and are LEGALLY licensed to do so, whereabouts did you see this alleged couple?”
“Oh, they’re a couple alright. Or were you suggesting they weren’t dead, I got lost there.”
She gets up.
“ID please, including your license.”
I produce both.
“Ok, tell me what you were doing and where.”
I fill her in.
Excluding the bee farm.
“You are sure they were dead?”
“Oh yes. Very. My nose told me so.”
Her demeanor changes.
“Oh, my goodness. Ok. I’ll radio the Ranger.”
An hour later the Ranger finally arrives.
At least they have coffee here. Terrible Government Coffee, but it’s available.
Now, before I continue, I should mention that I have an embarrassing fetish.
I love Ranger uniforms.
So, now I am buzzing on cheap coffee, have to pee, and am crushing hard for this late Ranger man.
“(to myself) Keep it together Kwan. Don’t get stupid.”