by Pamela Clare
“What about the pups?” Nate asked. “I’d say they’re about thirty pounds each.”
“I’ll have to see how feral they are.” By the time she finished with Jason, the Team was arriving, Megs and Ahearn first in Rescue One.
Megs’ boots hit the snow. “Hey, Jack, Win, Jason. I should’ve known I’d find the three of you here. Now, will someone tell me what the hell’s going on?”
Chapter 15
Jason climbed onto Jack’s UTV, sitting next to Winona, her gear strapped onto the back with bungee cords together with some of the Team’s rescue gear.
Megs hurried over, handed something to Winona. “Take this.”
A radio.
“Thanks.” Winona clipped the handset to the collar of her parka, slipped the radio into her pocket, and tucked the earpiece in place. “I won’t tranquilize her until you’re there. I don’t want to risk having to drug her twice.”
“Got it.” Megs turned to the Team members. “On the double, people.”
Some wore skis, while others had snowshoes on their feet. Everyone carried heavy backpacks. They all set out up the snowy road.
“Win is riding, but we have to walk?” The exaggerated whiny tone of Herrera’s voice let Jason know that he was joking.
The ride up to the camp seemed to take longer than it had this morning, Jason’s gaze on the forest. Until the bastard who’d shot at them was caught, he wouldn’t let his guard down.
Nate dropped them off at the creek and turned back. “I’ll start bringing up Team members and see if we can’t speed things up.”
Up at the camp, they found Deputy Marcs and a ranger photographing, bagging, and tagging evidence—the porn mags, ammo cans, traps, weapons, tools.
“Look what we found.” Deputy Marcs held out a small plastic bag. “He left us this lovely fake ID. Meet Thomas Jefferson. Does he look familiar to you guys?”
Nate took the evidence, glanced at the photo, then handed it to Jason. “If it isn’t our sovereign citizen. Thomas Jefferson?”
Jason handed it to Jack. “I got a bad vibe off that guy.”
“Always listen to your gut.” Deputy Marcs took the evidence when Jack was done looking at it. “We ran the name on the ID. The name is bogus, too, of course, but we got a ping off the image from the fugitive database. His real name is Thomas Paul Graham. He’s done hard time. It would be easier for me to list the crimes he hasn’t committed than the ones he has.”
Winona didn’t want to see the ID. “What’s he doing up here?”
“He walked off a prison work detail in Alabama more than three years ago. Don’t worry, Win. We’ll catch him. He’s a fugitive, so the Marshal Service is involved now.” Then Deputy Marcs led Winona toward the kennel. “Come see our furry friends.”
Winona grabbed her gear and followed Deputy Marcs, a shocked look coming over her face when she saw the wolves. “He’s kept them locked up in this tiny kennel?”
“He chained the other one up here.” Deputy Marcs rested her hand on top of the large doghouse. “I’m sure the wolf loved that.”
While everyone else stayed back, Winona knelt beside the kennel, speaking Lakota in soothing tones. Jason didn’t understand a word, but he recognized the care in her voice.
“She’s not a wolf,” Winona said after a moment. “She’s a wolfdog crossbreed. You can tell by her eyes and how far apart they’re set. That doesn’t change our plans in any way. Her pups are about sixteen weeks old, and they’re all wearing collars. You don’t want us near them, do you, Mama? I understand.”
Winona sat back on her heels in the snow and got her gear ready, preparing the darts, setting out the restraints. Jason could only respect her skill.
“Are those critter handcuffs?” Deputy Marcs leaned closer, trying to get a look. “Aren’t they cute?”
“They’ll ensure that she can’t hurt herself or anyone else if she starts to come out of it early, but I’m usually pretty good at gauging how much to give. The mask is to muzzle her and protect her eyes from drying out.”
“Right.”
While they waited for the Team to arrive, Jason led Jack over to the smokehouse and opened the door. “He’s been smoking your beef and feeding it to his animals.”
Jack glanced inside. “That son of a bitch.”
By the time Team members began to trickle into the camp, Winona was ready. She explained to Jason what the Team members were doing.
“Jesse Moretti is setting up the anchor. That’s usually Chaska’s job.”
“The anchor?”
“They can’t wheel the gurney on this steep, uneven ground, so they have to carry it. We don’t want Team members tripping or falling and dropping the gurney, so we set up an anchor by tying the ropes to trees. It has to support the weight of the rescuers, as well as the gear, the gurney, and the person—or animal—on the gurney.”
“That makes sense.” Jason found it fascinating—the speed with which they worked, the way everyone seemed to know his or her job, their camaraderie.
“Anchor ready,” Moretti called out.
Winona knelt next to the kennel again, the wolfdog baring her teeth, growling. “I’m sorry, sweet girl, but I need to stick you.”
Winona fired two darts, one after the other, hitting the animal in its hindquarters. The wolfdog yelped—and slowly sank to the snow, darts in its hip. After a moment, she lay on her side and began to twitch.
“Is she okay?” Sasha asked.
“That’s completely normal.” Win motioned to the padlock on the kennel. “Can someone please grab my bolt cutters and cut that lock?”
She hadn’t wanted it cut before the wolf was sedated just in case the door accidentally came open.
“On it.” Ahearn walked over to the kennel, bolt cutters in hand. “Done.”
Winona didn’t open the door immediately. She spoke to the pups in Lakota, held gloved fingers through the holes in the fence, testing their response. They whined, wagged their tails, licked her gloved fingers, putting a smile on her face. “I think we’re good. They’ve got collars, so he must have tried to socialize them. Let’s use leashes.”
One at a time, she leashed the pups, handing them off to Team members. “We’ve got three males and one female.”
“These are big puppies.” Taylor scratched his pup behind the ears. “Our adult black lab isn’t much bigger than this.”
Winona leashed the last pup and led it out of the kennel. It hopped up on her, yipped. She patted its head. “You think they’re big? Wait till you see their daddy.”
Jason glanced around, still keeping an eye out for trouble. They needed to catch this Graham bastard. But what would they do about the wolf when they found him?
With the pups out of the kennel, Winona worked quickly, buckling the mother wolfdog’s front paws and then its rear paws together. With that done, she slipped a mask over its eyes and then checked its pulse.
“Okay, let’s get her onto the gurney. Watch where you step.”
With five animals in a small space, piles of poop were everywhere.
Jesse and Creed maneuvered their way inside, Winona supporting the wolfdog’s head as they lifted her onto the gurney. Then she took one of the handles, Jason, Sasha, and Megs taking the other three to lift the gurney and carry it out of the kennel.
Megs took charge from there, sorting out who would be on belay, who would carry the gurney, and who would wrangle puppies. In just a few minutes, the belay crew was ready, the gurney crew was in harnesses and roped in, and the puppy wranglers, as Megs called them, were set.
Winona took Austin’s pup so he could help carry the gurney. “The pups will probably want to stay close to their mama. This experience is new to them.”
Down the hill they went, the crew with the gurney moving slowly over steep, slippery ground made more treacherous because the snow hid the trunks of fallen trees and rocks. When they reached the creek, they removed the ropes and carried the gurney out to the road, where Austin crawled bene
ath it and clipped on the large ATV tire that enabled them to roll the gurney the rest of the way.
“That’s clever.” Jason bent down, gave his pup’s ears a scratch.
“That’s Chaska’s invention.”
The pups trotted along behind the gurney, occasionally whimpering for their mother, their ears straight up and forward, tails wagging.
Sasha was clearly having a great time. “They’re so cute!”
“This is why I love the Team—no two days are alike,” Jesse said. “One day, it’s a drunk kid in a Batman suit stuck on a crag, and the next, it’s a wolfdog and puppies.”
After that, the conversation drifted to the upcoming ski season and off-width climbing gear—mega-cams, tube chocks, gloves.
Jason leaned closer, spoke for Winona’s ears alone. “Can we still be friends if I say I have no clue what they’re talking about?”
Winona laughed. “Sure. Thanks, by the way. You helped find these poor creatures. Now we can put them in a good home where they can run free.”
“Just doing my part.” His lips curved in a smile that stole Winona’s breath.
They reached the parking lot, where Jack and Nate were loading the UTV into their trailer. Under Winona’s direction, Team members lifted the wolfdog, settled her inside Shota’s old crate, and placed the pups beside her.
“Thanks for your help, everyone.” Winona locked the crate, eager to get the mother back to the clinic as soon as possible so she wouldn’t have to sedate her again. She handed her radio to Megs. “Everyone did a great job.”
“You’re the wolf whisperer. We just do what we’re told.” Megs and the others began packing away their gear. “We’ll do a quick debriefing at The Cave in an hour and then hit the pub.”
“I’m heading back to the ranch.” Nate shook Jason’s hand and hugged Winona. “I hope to see both of you at the Cimarron again soon. My old man and I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“I’m obliged to both of you.” Jack closed the tailgate, checked it, ensuring that the crate and its precious cargo was safe. “Let’s hit the road.”
Winona was just climbing into the cab of Jack’s truck when a US Marshal Service vehicle entered the parking lot. Several marshals got out, including Zach, who was wearing body armor and carrying a rifle.
He spotted them and walked over, a big grin on his face. “Jack, Nate, good to see you two. Looks like you’ve got your hands full, Winona. Hey, Chiago. I heard that bastard fired off a few shots. I’m glad you still have your head. Are those nicks from bullet fragments?”
Jason shot Zach a look. “Tree bark. The round hit a tree, and the bark splintered.”
Winona gaped at him. “He almost shot you?”
Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “I hadn’t heard this either. Anyone care to elaborate?”
Jason filled them in. “He fired off a few rounds to hold us off so he could get away. We took cover, and he hopped on that four-wheeler. No big deal.”
“No big deal?” It seemed like a big deal to Winona, but then she wasn’t in law enforcement. “You let me think you’d had a run-in with a tree trunk.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
Zach frowned, held a finger to his earpiece, and turned away, listening. Then he spoke into his hand mic. “Copy that. We’re on our way up.”
Just then, a dozen pagers went off, including Winona’s. She drew it out of her pocket, read through the message. “They found him. The four-wheeler flipped, and he’s pinned beneath it and injured.”
“Listen up! Grab your gear. We’re heading back up the mountain.” Megs walked over to Zach. “McBride, are my people in danger? What about the other wolf?”
Zach zipped his parka, adjusted his hand mic. “I just heard from Incident Command. The wolf ran off, and the fugitive has been disarmed. I’ll be right beside you.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Megs set off. “Let’s move, people! And remember to watch for traps!”
Zach turned to Jason. “You coming, Chiago?”
“I’m sticking with Winona.”
Zach’s eyebrows rose. “Got it. See you later.”
As Winona and Jason got into Jack’s truck for the drive to Scarlet Springs, the Team headed back up the mountain, Zach and his men beside them.
Jason, Jack, and a group of volunteers helped unload the crate from the back of Jack’s pickup and carry the sedated wolf inside, her pups scampering along behind them.
“I’m heading back up to the ranch.” Jack shook first Winona’s hand and then Jason’s. “Thanks for solving this mystery. You are welcome under our roof anytime.”
“Thanks for the hospitality.” Jason had never imagined he’d enjoy hanging with a family of white millionaires. The West family and their ranch were far beyond anything in his experience. “The Cimarron is a special place.”
“Then I’ll see you again. Take care.” With that, Jack left the clinic.
Jason watched as Winona worked, impressed with her confidence around animals that would scare most people.
She examined the mother, drew blood samples, and gave the animals rabies vaccines. “You guys didn’t see that.”
Her volunteers laughed, understanding a joke that sailed over Jason’s head.
Winona explained. “Rabies vaccines aren’t approved for wolfdog mixes, but I give them anyway. I do what’s best for the animal.”
She gave the wolfdog a drug to revive her, then left her and her pups in the crate with fresh water to rest. “Thanks, everyone, for your help. Heather should be here any minute. I’m going to fill out the paperwork.”
While Winona filled out vaccine certificates, Jason cased out the clinic, looking at its security from a law enforcement perspective, taking photos with his phone. A criminal would have no trouble gaining entrance. Only the back entrance was truly secure. The front door was mostly glass, making it an easy point of ingress, and he had no difficulty forcing the windows open from the outside.
He carried their bags next door to her house and scoped it out, too, finding much the same thing—doors and windows that were easy to force or break, as well as a deck railing that would make it easy for someone to climb into her bedroom.
He couldn’t leave it like this, but none of this was his decision to make. He’d talk to Winona tonight, give her the business card of Nate’s friend in Denver.
As he walked back to the clinic, the truck from the wolf rescue pulled up. He watched as Winona, the volunteers, and the woman from the rescue transferred the still-groggy mother and her pups to a new crate.
Winona handed the woman all of her paperwork. “Thanks, Heather.”
“Any word on the male wolf?”
Winona shook her head. “He ran off when the rangers and sheriff’s deputies approached. I’m worried about him. He might not know how to hunt or fend for himself up there. I’m going to contact wildlife officials and ask what they plan to do.”
“If they catch him, we’ll take him in.” Heather gave Winona a hug. “I need to get Mama and pups settled before dark. See you soon.”
Winona watched them drive away, then let out a relieved breath. “I’m hungry. How about you? Want to head to Knockers?”
He was hungry—for food and something more. “How about we grab something quick and stay at your place?”
“Do you like tacos?”
“Do I like tacos?” Jason stared at her. “I’m O’odham and a Mexican citizen.”
They climbed into Winona’s Outback and drove to a taco truck that was doing a brisk trade, the words Tacos Sabrosos painted on its side—Tasty Tacos.
Winona ordered three tacos with shredded chicken and queso. “No jalapeños. Gracias, Juana.”
“No jalapeños?” Jason had to tease her just a little. “Are they too hot for you?”
Winona lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ll explain in a minute.”
Jason ordered a smothered burrito with the jalapeños, the two of them standing beneath a heat lam
p while they waited for their order. “Okay, let’s hear it. What’s the problem with jalapeños that makes you whisper in public?”
Winona leaned closer. “Chaska and Naomi got some food from Juana’s one day, and they were … intimate afterward. Naomi had eaten jalapeños, and the oils from the pepper burned Chaska on his… She says he had to spend an hour with his manly bits in a bowl of milk—which, by the way, is not an image I needed in my mind.”
“Ouch.” Jason winced at the thought of dick-burn and picked the jalapeños off his burrito, leaving them uneaten. “Okay. Agreed. No jalapeños.”
He thought about it for a moment. “Wait. Does this mean you’ve got something specific in mind for later, angel?”
He certainly did.
Chapter 16
Winona and Jason ate their supper at Winona’s kitchen table, talking about everything and nothing. Their shared experience at the Cimarron. How Winona and Chaska had learned to ski. Jason’s first memory of snow.
“I must have been four.” There was a hint of sadness in his smile as he spoke, his hand taking hers. “My mother woke me up early and told me there was snow outside. I had no idea what she meant. I remember her putting a little snowball in my hand. I dropped it because it was so cold. That made her laugh. Then, I discovered that my shoes made prints in this cold, white stuff, so I stomped all over the place.”
Winona smiled, imagining Jason as a tiny child. “You were learning to track already. I bet you were adorable.”
He slipped a hand into his rear jeans pocket, pulled out a leather billfold, and took out a small photo. “This is the only photo I have of my entire family.”
Winona took the photo from him. Three generations stood together beneath some kind of awning made of branches, smiles on their faces, giant saguaros in the background. Jason, the youngest, stood in front of his mother, a bright smile on his face, his mother’s hands resting on his shoulders. “How old are you here?”