Arches Enemy

by Scott Graham

Overview

"A winning blend of archaeology and intrigue, Graham's series turns our national parks into places of equal parts beauty, mystery, and danger."
—EMILY LITTLEJOHN, author of Lost Lake

A famed sandstone arch in Utah’s Arches National Park collapses and takes a woman atop it to her death, ensnaring archaeologist Chuck Bender and his family in lethal questions of environmental monkeywrenching and political intrigue. As more deaths follow, Chuck and his wife Janelle race to uncover the killer even as they become murder targets themselves.

SCOTT GRAHAM is the author of the acclaimed National Park Mystery series, featuring archaeologist Chuck Bender and Chuck's spouse, Janelle Ortega. In addition to the National Park Mystery series, Scott is the author of five nonfiction books, including Extreme Kids, winner of the National Outdoor Book Award. Scott is an avid outdoorsman who enjoys backpacking, river rafting, skiing, and mountaineering. He has made a living as a newspaper reporter, magazine editor, radio disk jockey, and coal–shoveling fireman on the steam–powered Durango–Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. He lives with his spouse, who is an emergency physician, in Durango, Colorado.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781948814058
Publisher:	Torrey House Press
Publication date:	06/11/2019
Series:	National Park Mystery Series , #5
Pages:	200
Sales rank:	427,281
Product dimensions:	5.20(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.70(d)

About the Author

SCOTT GRAHAM is the author of the acclaimed National Park Mystery series, featuring archaeologist Chuck Bender and Chuck's spouse, Janelle Ortega. In addition to the National Park Mystery series, Scott is the author of five nonfiction books, including Extreme Kids, winner of the National Outdoor Book Award. Scott is an avid outdoorsman who enjoys backpacking, river rafting, skiing, and mountaineering. He has made a living as a newspaper reporter, magazine editor, radio disk jockey, and coal–shoveling fireman on the steam–powered Durango–Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad. He lives with his spouse, who is an emergency physician, in Durango, Colorado.

Read an Excerpt

Prologue
Her death was her own damn fault.
He'd done everything right—research, surveillance, charge level, timing. His planning and execution had been perfect, his actions beyond reproach, which was why not a single question would come his way.
He was certain of it.
The notion had come to him when the vibrations first had coursed through his body two months ago. He'd been out for a late summer hike on Behind the Rocks Trail, following its serpentine path through the maze of red sandstone fins jutting skyward south of town, where the tall slabs of rock sliced the landscape into linear strips of windswept dunes separated by shadowed slot canyons.
He knew Utah's politicians long had fed voters the same tired line: the citizens of the state could sell their souls to the petrochemical industry while continuing to attract millions of big–spending tourists to southern Utah's incomparable canyon country. In recent years, however, young environmentalists from the Wasatch Front had disputed the politicians' long–unquestioned claim. Hoisting the torch of Edward Abbey above their heads, the conservation warriors declared nothing would be left of Utah's stunning red rock country but savaged earth if the oil and gas giants kept mauling the land with their bulldozers, excavators, and graders.
The tremors from the thumper truck surged along the ground every few seconds during his hike, pulsing upward through his legs and reverberating in his torso. With each mini–earthquake came the same question, over and over again. Could he really a send a seismic wakeup call to every citizen of Utah? Thump. Could he? Thump.
He began by purchasing a used laptop from the classifieds and wiping its hard drive clean. After linking the computer to the internet, he conducted his research only through his secret online portal. He bought additional supplies at gun shops and farm and ranch stores in nearby towns, collecting everything his research told him he needed.
In the weeks after he initially experienced the vibrations on Back of Beyond Trail, the truck's pulses became a living thing inside him, a thrumming reminder of what he was prepared to do, and why.
By early November, the cottonwoods along the Colorado River at the edge of Moab glowed with late autumn gold, the trees resplendent in the slanted fall sunlight. The brilliant yellow leaves snapped free of their branches by the thousands, fluttering to earth in shimmering cascades, on the crisp clear morning the massive thumper truck trundled through town, its passage noted by only a handful of sign–waving activists. Turning off the highway twenty miles north of Moab, the truck crawled across public land on a winding two track to Yellow Cat Flat, hard against the northern border of Arches National Park.
A few final leaves clung to the skeletal limbs of the cottonwoods along the river when the year's first winter storm drew a bead on southern Utah a week later. He checked the truck's timetable on the O&G Seismic website as the storm bore down, set to bring decreasing temperatures, whipping winds, and icy sleet to canyon country.
According to the schedule, when the storm arrived in two days, the truck still would be thumping its way across Yellow Cat Flat, just outside the park.
He checked the drill and detonator and tested the timer and battery. He measured out the blasting powder, making sure the portion was exact.
The storm crossed into Utah late in the afternoon. Gray clouds gathered over the state as darkness fell, bringing heavy snow to the northern mountains and sleet to the high desert lands in the south.
He deleted his online account and powered down the laptop that evening. He drove over the Colorado River bridge after nightfall, slowing to toss the computer into the roiling waters below.
Biting gusts of wind and frigid blasts of sleet struck him when he shouldered his pack and set out on foot, clicking on his headlamp and hiking into the empty desert. He wended his way through sagebrush and chamisa, the bluffs and promontories at the heart of Arches National Park looming above him, black against the overcast sky in the midnight darkness.
He finished hand–drilling the hole in the sandstone arch as the sky lightened with dawn. The arch soared above a meadow of sage and bunch grass, connecting humped ridges of slickrock. He tamped the blasting powder into the drill hole, sank the parallel detonation prongs into the charge mixture, and backed away, unspooling the thin detonator cord as he went. He crouched in a shallow pothole fifty yards from the rock span, plunger in hand.
The first thump of the day pulsed through his hiding place at 7:30, right on schedule. A second thump followed from the north a few seconds later, then another, and another.
Needles of wind–driven sleet gathered on his shoulders as the inexorable beat of the pulses continued. Trembling with anticipation, he wrapped his fingers around the plastic plunger handle, preparing to press it downward.
A light tap–tap–tapping noise reached him—the sound of running steps, propelled by the squalling wind. He stiffened and checked his watch. 7:35. He leaned forward, his eyes wide and his heart pounding.
She appeared a hundred yards beyond the arch, her blue jacket and black tights silhouetted against the gray clouds. She ran through the swirling sleet with the easy gait of a gazelle, crossing the spine of rock high above the meadow, headed straight for the stone span.
He very nearly leapt to his feet and screamed at her to turn back. But that would have meant giving himself away.
He had a job to do. He knelt in place, his head ducked. Surely she would stop before venturing onto the arch itself.
She slowed and edged down the sloping ridge of stone. Rather than halt, she stepped from the solid rock bluff onto the narrow span.
The digital numbers on his watch flicked from 7:35 to 7:36. His timing was critical if his alibi was to hold up. He tightened his fingers around the plunger handle, his breaths coming in constricted gasps.
She extended her arms from her sides and placed one foot directly in front of the other, her pace slow and deliberate. She was fifteen feet out on the arch when, finally, he could contain himself no longer.
He rose from the depression, revealing himself, convinced the distance and the mist and sleet between them would assure she would not be able to identify his face. He lifted his hand. Surely, having been spotted, she would retreat.
But he forgot the plunger, which slipped from his palm. Its handle struck his shoe. The handle did not appear to depress much, if at all. Nevertheless, a sharp concussive crack sounded from the arch.
The woman dropped her arms to her sides, her gaze fixed on the narrow span of stone extending through the air before her.
The plastic plunger clattered away from his foot as the near end of the span cleaved in two. Dark lines shot like black lightning its entire length. For an instant, the arch maintained its shape, suspended in the sky. Then it fractured into dozens of jagged chunks of stone.
"No!" he cried out.
Too late.
The woman looked up, her eyes finding his the same instant the rock shattered beneath her. She screamed and grabbed at the air with outstretched fingers as she fell with the falling pieces to the meadow five stories below.  

Editorial Reviews

"Poignant and compelling. Descriptions of the landscape make the desert come alive…Graham also captures the small moments in family life."
—REVIEWING THE EVIDENCE

"The oil and gas industry is juxtaposed against the beauty of nature…a fascinating book."
—MYSTERY SCENE MAGAZINE

"Archaeologist Chuck Bender’s contract for preservation work in Utah’s Arches National Park is disrupted by a sudden death that turns out to be only the first of several. Where will it all end?"
—KIRKUS REVIEWS

"Fans of Nevada Barr's Anna Pigeon series and readers of environmental mysteries may appreciate this lush tale."
—LIBRARY JOURNAL

"Those interested in national parks and the environmental threats to them will be rewarded."
—PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

"Masterfully plotted in confident prose, Arches Enemy is not only an adventurous and fascinating mystery you can't put down, it delivers important insight on ancestral cultures and their sacred lands. Only a truly gifted novelist is able to keep a reader turning pages while imparting extensive knowledge about the people, the landscape, and the park system. Scott Graham proves yet again that he is one of the finest."
—CHRISTINE CARBO, author of A Sharp Solitude

"A winning blend of archaeology and intrigue, Graham's series turns our national parks into places of equal parts beauty, mystery, and danger."
—EMILY LITTLEJOHN, author of Lost Lake

PRAISE FOR SCOTT GRAHAM'S NATIONAL PARK MYSTERY SERIES

“Engrossing… a glorious portrait of one of the most compelling landscapes on earth. Graham clearly knows the territory. A topnotch read.”

—WILLIAM KENT KRUEGER, New York Times bestselling author of Sulfur Springs: A Cork O’Connor Mystery

“Filled with murder and mayhem, jealousy and good detective work—an exciting, nonstop read.”

—ANNE HILLERMAN, New York Times bestselling author of Cave of Bones

“One part mystery, one part mysticism, one part mayhem—and all parts thrilling.”

—CRAIG JOHNSON, New York Times bestselling author of Depth of Winter

“Along with archaeologist Chuck Bender, we experience the evocative wonder and amoral beauty of the Grand Canyon while at the same time learning the inside—and often frustrating—workings of a contemporary national park. The omnipresence of the ancient Anasazi civilization enriches the atmosphere”

—C. J. BOX, New York Times bestselling author of The Disappeared

“Graham has created a story [of] richness and depth....Graham’s comfort and familiarity with his subject make the story an enjoyable read.”

—DURANGO HERALD

“Graham has created a beautifully balanced book, incorporating intense action scenes, depth of characterization, realistic landscapes, and historical perspective.”

—REVIEWING THE EVIDENCE

“Graham’s clever tale is tailor-made for those who prefer their mysteries under blue skies.”

—KIRKUS REVIEWS

“This zippy tale uses lush descriptions of natural beauty and twisted false leads to create an exciting, rewarding puzzle.”

—PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

“Description and dialogue balance to bring both the rounded characters and the Rocky Mountain setting alive in this tale of danger, death, and intrigue....Scott Graham has created a satisfying and suspenseful adventure.”

—FOREWORD REVIEWS

From the Publisher

2019-03-18
Archaeologist Chuck Bender's contract for preservation work in Utah's Arches National Park is disrupted by a sudden death that turns out to be only the first of several.

Whatever provoked Megan Johnson to ignore all the park rules and venture onto the Landscape Arch, one of many striking, naturally formed sandstone structures that give the park its name, payback was swift and unforgiving: The arch collapsed under her, plunging her five stories to her death. A regrettable accident, says chief ranger Sanford Gibbons. Not a bit, insists hotheaded Chuck (Yosemite Fall, 2018, etc.). First he blames George Epson, the regional manager of O&G Seismic, for the petrochemical blasting he thinks caused the arch to collapse; then, when he finds a neat hole bored in the base of the arch with telltale signs of an explosive packed into it, he insists that it was deliberate murder—and that Gibbons, who maintains that he examined the remnants of the arch itself without finding anything suspicious, is covering it up. Chuck's knack of antagonizing would-be allies isn't limited to the death of Megan Johnson. He constantly crosses swords with his wife, Durango paramedic Janelle Ortega, over how best to handle her newly rebellious 13-year-old daughter, Carmelita; with Carmelita herself, who's got quite the mouth on her; and with his hippy-dippy mother, Sheila Bender, who neglected him during the years he was fighting to grow up but wants back into his life now that she's hung out a shingle as a seer in nearby Moab. Almost everyone in the case, from a pair of retired couples visiting the park to a homeless man who's taken up residence there, Chuck gradually realizes, is connected to his mother. Where will it all end?

Readers new to the series are advised to save their sympathy for the peripatetic hero and his immediate family since most members of the noncontinuing cast are bound for either the slammer or the morgue.

Kirkus Reviews