The Middle of Somewhere(41)

“Maybe not. Marmots are rodents and this is national forest, not a national park.”

“But it’s still gross.”

“Extremely.”

“We didn’t think they’d shot it, though. Someone would hear a gun go off, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” Liz related the story of Rodell’s injury and the pistol she thought she saw in his pack.

“I guess the good news is we’ve seen the last of them.”

“And no more marmot kebabs.”

Liz enjoyed getting to know Linda, but by the time she finished the laundry she was starving. She followed Dante into the low-ceilinged dining room, and the aroma of barbecued ribs nearly knocked her over. Her eyes went to the buffet, crammed with platters of corn, potatoes, bread, beans and three different salads. Her stomach jumped for joy. She and Dante had carried as much food as the bear cans would hold, but not enough to compensate for the calories they’d burned. She estimated she’d lost at least five pounds. And tonight she’d do her best to put it all back on.

Her plate loaded for the first round, she scanned the long tables for a spot for two and noticed Brensen. To her chagrin, he waved them over. Maybe the food would make him less irascible. Dante stepped over the bench and sat beside Brensen, and Liz took a seat across from them.

Brensen introduced the couple next to him: his agent, Woody, a middle-aged man with an artfully unshaven face, and an almond-eyed blonde named Katarina. She had an Eastern European look and was not quite young enough to be Woody’s daughter. Both were dressed in premium outdoor wear that had never seen weather, much less mud.

“They’re here to check up on me,” Brensen said, slathering butter on a chunk of bread. “Make sure I’m not cheating.”

Woody dragged the butter dish away. “Or eating.”

Dante said, “He’s not allowed to eat?”

“They’re shooting the movie backward. When he gets to Whitney, we need him skinny and tan, and—”

“—and f*cking fed up,” Brensen added, his mouth full.

“—and then he can start eating again.”

Liz said, “I wouldn’t worry about it. The John Muir Trail is a mobile fat farm.” She turned her attention to her plate. The food was delicious and she wanted to make sure she got seconds before they cleared the buffet.

“Just riding in here was enough for me,” Woody said. “I could’ve eaten the horse.”

“That’s terrible, Woody,” Katarina said, in a teasing tone.

Brensen addressed Dante and Liz. “I was just telling them about Payton and Eli.”

“Rodell,” she said. “Payton and Eli are quarterbacks.”

“Rodell?” said Woody. “Seriously? I couldn’t make that up.”

Brensen snorted. “Yeah, right? The Dubious Brothers. Did they get off the hill?”

“We think so,” Dante said. “We haven’t seen them since we got here.” He changed the subject, probably not wanting to remind Brensen he’d behaved badly toward Rodell. “So, Woody, what’s the news from the real world?”

“Well, the last couple days there’s been a shitstorm surrounding General Petraeus. Resigned from directing the CIA for bonking his biographer.”

“He led the surge in Iraq, right?” Dante said.

“Gives new meaning to the word ‘embedded,’” Liz quipped.

Everyone laughed, except Dante. “I suppose they are both married.”

Woody said, “Uh-huh. With kids I think. And get this. The title of the biography is All In.”

Liz nearly spat out her water. “That’s too much. I guess he’s regretting not keeping his boots on the ground.”

Woody nodded. “And it’s not only the two of them. There’s a whole network of army bigwigs and rich socialites who’ve been partying in Tampa and stealing kisses. Or whatever.”

Dante shook his head. “It’s disgusting.”

“Way of the world, my friend,” Brensen said.

“Well, it shouldn’t be. Petraeus took an oath. I’m talking about the one to his wife. And I’m guessing he’s a Christian, so in front of God, too.”

Liz kept her eyes on her plate, but detected the others exchanging glances.

Dante went on. “What? Is it wrong to expect someone, especially a leader, to show some moral strength?”