“What about Jack?” Nancy went on. “Is he
still at the feeding station?”
“No. He came through about an hour ago
but said he had paperwork to do,” Ned ex-
plained. “I’m sure he’ll show up in a little
while.”
“So you guys moved out here just in time for
our big cookout,” Alicia said, smiling.
“Cookout?” Bess asked with interest.
“Our farewell dinner,” Alicia explained.
“To celebrate the end of stage two of the study.
I’m about to make potato salad. Anyone want
to help?”
Bess gave Nancy an inquiring look, then
said, “Sure, I’m game.”
As they walked away. Nancy told Ned about
Richard and Piker’s references. “Can you get
away? I want to check those guys out.”
“Sure,” Ned said. “I’ll just take the time.”
“I’m a little concerned about Professor
Trainey now, Ned,” Nancy said as she started
the car and headed for the western entrance of
the park.
She told Ned about the photograph she
found in Trainey’s tent. “What if I’ve been
wrong about him? If he knew who was in that
photo and went to confront him, he could be in
danger.”
“Do you think we should go back and look
for him?” Ned asked.
Nancy shook her head. “Let’s leave that to
Jennifer for now.”
The narrow road led down into a valley and
across a railroad track into a town. She turned
onto the main street. It was lined with two-
story wood frame buildings and resembled the
set for a western.
Just past the business district was a white
building with a green slate roof. The sign out
front identified it as the town hall. Nancy
parked, and they walked in.
The Ashland Police Department occupied
one big room on the ground floor. A husky
man of about thirty was sitting at one of the
two desks. The name plate on the desk said
Chief Tucker. As Nancy and Ned approached
the counter separating the waiting area from
the office, he raised his head with a friendly
smile. “Hi, folks, can I help you?”
Nancy introduced herself and Ned and ex-
plained that they were investigating a poach-
ing scheme in Yellowstone Park. “You can call
Chief Ranger Robbins to check us out,” she
added.
“Thanks, I’ll do that.” He swiveled to face
the telephone and spoke for a couple of min-
utes, then turned back to them. “Well, now,
Nancy and Ned, what can I do for you?”
“We need information about two men
named Richard Geismar and Piker Slattery,”
Nancy said. “According to their files, they
grew up in Ashland.”
Tucker frowned. “Those names don’t ring a
bell, but I’ve only been here three years.” He
went over to the file cabinets along the back
wall. “We’ve got files here that go back pretty
far,” he remarked as he flipped through one of
the drawers. “If either of these guys were ever
involved in anything illegal, it should show in
this drawer. Ah, here we go.”
He returned to his desk with two manila
folders and began to leaf through them. “Well,
well,” he said. “Definitely not model citizens.
Vandalism, grand theft auto, breaking and
entering, arson. They did time for that one.”
“Wow,” Ned said. “It looks like you were
right to suspect them, Nancy.”
Tucker showed her a photo of a much young-
er Piker. “That’s one of them,” she confirmed.
“You watch your step with these fellows,”
Tucker said. “You know who could tell you all
about them? Margery Milliken, the principal
at the consolidated high school before she
retired. Go down to the end of the street and
turn right,” he said, gesturing. “It’s a white
house. I’ll call to tell her you’re coming.”
Nancy thanked Tucker for his help, and she
and Ned returned to the car. They found the
house easily. The woman waiting on the porch
steps was wearing a dark skirt and a white
blouse. Her gray hair was twisted up in a
french roll. A pair of reading glasses dangled
from her neck.
“Ms. Drew, Mr. Nickerson? I’m Margery
Milliken. I understand you want some infor-
mation about two of my former students.
Come in.”
She motioned them to the sofa. “Now, what