***
Henry stopped at the ranger station after he’d dropped Ann off at the cabin. George Redcrow was on duty so he took him along with him. They searched the lake in one of the park’s boats. Eventually they found the wreckage of the Seabird strewn along the more isolated eastern shore of Wizard’s Island like beached trash.
No sign of Sam Cutler.
Henry hauled in pieces of the destroyed boat bobbing around on the water and stuffed them into clear bags with George’s help. Evidence.
“What happened to Sam Cutler and his boat?” George mumbled at one point, a haunted glint in his eyes as he handled a splinter of boat wood, turning it around in his hands in the receding sunlight. “It was a big boat. What could have done this to it?” A breeze skimmed the water and his hair ruffled around his ranger’s hat. The gray of his uniform appeared black in the dimming light.
“I don’t know, George.”
“An explosion?”
Henry’s eyes raked the shifting waters around their boat. He remembered the mauled animals George had been finding near the lake. “I don’t think so. The boat’s been thoroughly smashed by something very powerful, by the looks of it.”
“What could do that?”
“I don’t know.” Henry stared out over the water. “No sense in dragging for the body. The lake’s too deep. If it hasn’t floated to the surface, I have a feeling we won’t find it.”
“But,” George supplied, “we can assume that Sam Cutler’s probably dead?”
“Most likely.”
Both men fell quiet for a moment. The water lapped against their boat’s hull.
“We’d better get back to shore, George, and start filling out the report, or we’ll be all night. I’m officially opening up an investigation into what might have happened to Sam Cutler and his boat.”
“You going to call in the local police for help?” George questioned. He often needled Henry about having been a big city cop. George thought of big city cops like other people thought of aliens.
“Not yet. We’ll handle this ourselves for now until we see what we’re up against. Keep it on the down low. If we need more assistance later on, I’ll ask the Park Service for back-up and establish an Incident Command System.” As Chief Ranger, he had the option of putting more men on to cover any emergency situation, setting up an ICS, if there was a dangerous problem in the park. “As of now, George,” he added dryly, “I’m making you Assistant Chief Ranger. Congratulations.”
“Thanks a lot.” George didn’t seem happy about the promotion. He knew what it meant. Henry was worried. Trouble was coming.
“But for now, let’s get off this lake before it gets dark.” Henry recalled what Cutler had been reported as saying: It only comes out at night. Big as two houses, a long neck, huge teeth and as strong as hell.
Henry’s hand automatically fell onto the butt of his holstered weapon, a .40 caliber semi-automatic SigSauer, for comfort. Most of his men, including George, carried the 9 mm Sig, but Henry preferred the .40 caliber because of the larger, heavier bullets it shot. If he had to bring something down he wanted to be sure it didn’t get up again.
“Anything you say, boss,” George agreed. He worked his way to the boat’s controls, plopped down into the captain’s chair, and steered them towards land. He wanted to get off the lake as badly as Henry did. The low-flying gulls and the fish jumping alongside the boat apparently weren’t the only things out on the water.
Wizard Island dwindled to a tiny lump on the horizon as they left it behind. Henry’s mind was tumbling in circles looking for answers. Someone, or something, had demolished a tour boat and perhaps murdered Sam Cutler. There hadn’t been a murder in the park since he’d arrived.
The Park Service wasn’t going to like this at all.
His sense of duty and excitement triumphant over the fear, and because Cutler said it only came out at night, he decided he’d return after dark to see if something uninvited really lurked in the lake. Unless he knew what the problem was, how would he know how to handle it?
Dinosaur Lake Page 12