by Linda Berry
Silence.
Tammy licked her dry lips, continued. “I was lying on my side, facing him. I knew if I turned over, he’d tie my hands behind my back, like he did to Cadence, and I wouldn’t stand a chance. ‘Okay,’ I said to him, while reaching under the pillow. I grabbed the gun and aimed it at the flashlight. He shrieked, turned off the flashlight, and took off running. I heard him crash into the wall in the hallway. Moments later the front door slammed shut. I locked myself in the bathroom and called Tucker. He and a few other men had been out patrolling. They arrived within minutes and searched the house. Searched the outside of the house. They didn’t find anything. Just footprints coming up from the creek.” She turned and leaned back against the sink, her arms still crossed, fingers gripping her elbows, and faced them. “It all happened so fast. Just a couple minutes.”
“Terrifying,” Sidney said. “You were very brave.”
Tammy was trembling. Her anxiety had become visible. “I was in survival mode. I acted on instinct.”
Sidney pushed on, her tone soft and gentle. “Is there anything you remember about him? His voice, a mannerism?”
Tammy narrowed her eyes as though in deep concentration. “No.”
“We were told you saw him. That he had light-colored eyes.”
“That may have been a false memory, I realized later. When he turned off the light, I saw a face for a fleeting moment. Later, I imagined he was…” her voice trailed off.
“Grisly Stokes?”
“Yes.”
“Could it have been Grisly?”
“I don’t know. He never got close enough for me to feel his body, or smell him. Grisly has a smell you never forget.”
“Yeah, we noticed.”
“You talked to him?”
“Yep. This morning.”
She looked at Sidney and Granger with appreciation. “You two have been busy. You’ve probably learned more overnight than the whole village did in six months.” She scowled and her voice took on a tinge of anger. “Too bad you weren’t on the job when Grisly raped me three years ago. Those asshole cops never investigated. They took his word over mine. One of the reasons no one here has faith in law enforcement.”
“I’m sorry you were treated that way,” Sidney said sincerely. “I hope my department can restore your trust. For the record, I believe you. I believe Grisly assaulted you.”
She released a weary sigh. “Thank you.”
“Can you tell me what happened that night at the saloon?”
She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, lost in thought. “It happened three years ago, but I remember it vividly. I was going through a rough patch with Shiloh, my husband. We were separated. He was staying with a friend. I was pretty depressed. A couple of my girlfriends thought going to the saloon and listening to music would cheer me up. Normally, I don’t drink, but I did that night. Too much. Trying to drown my sorrows, I guess. I’m ashamed to say I acted badly. Obnoxious, to everyone. My girlfriends tried to get me to go home, but I made a scene and they left without me. I sat at the bar next to Grisly. I’d never talked to him before, but I’d seen him around the village. He had a bad reputation and most everyone just ignored him. He asked if he could buy me a drink. If I hadn’t been so drunk already, I would never have accepted. After I downed that one, and another, he suggested driving me home. I was out of it. I said okay. I just wanted to pass out in bed.
When we got to my house, I couldn’t even unlock the door. He took my key and got me inside. Then he sat me on the couch. I thanked him, expecting him to leave.” Tammy’s voice vibrated with emotion and her face wrenched with pure hatred. “Instead, he raped me. I fought and screamed, but he held me down, put his hand over my mouth. It was like a vise. When he was done, he called me a filthy whore. And left.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached for her Perrier and took a long sip. “I called the cops immediately. They were horrible. Kept asking me how much I had to drink, and was I sure it was Grisly, and was I sure I hadn’t consented to sex. Drunk as I was, it was still humiliating. They said they’d go talk to him. They ended up arresting him, but it was just a formality. The next day a cop came back and took another statement. He said it was just my word against his, so they’d probably have to let him go. They released him that day. That was that.”
Tammy’s fury was palpable. Sidney’s gut rumbled with emotion. Granger sat with his jaw tightly clenched, eyes radiating anger. It was clear the insensitivity of their fellow officers offended him as much as it did her, though they both knew law enforcement wasn’t solely to blame. It was society as a whole. The systemic lack of empathy in which rape victims were regarded, and disbelieved, was widespread and appalling. Sidney drew in a deep breath and controlled her tone. “Did you have a rape kit?”
Tammy shook her head. “I didn’t know at the time I needed one. I had a lot of bruising. No one ever saw it but me. The second the cops left, I showered. I couldn’t wait to get his smell off me.”
Sidney hid her disappointment. The officers should have driven her to the ER, made sure she got examined. Tammy had fought back. Grisly, too, should have been examined for bruises and scratches. Without evidence of a forced assault, there was nothing on which to build a case. “I’ll review your report when I get back to the station, Tammy, but I don’t want to give you false hope. It doesn’t look good. We’re going to look into other possible crimes Grisly committed. If I can get him into my interrogation room, I’ll try to squeeze a rape confession out of him.”
“Thank you, Chief Becker, for treating me with dignity,” Tammy said. “Just being heard, and being taken seriously, means more than you can imagine.”
Sidney stood and Tammy came into her arms. Her figure felt slight and the top of her head didn’t quite reach Sidney’s shoulder. For a long moment, Sidney held her as she would a child, offering comfort before releasing her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ANOTHER STORM had rolled in out of the northern October sky from Canada and soft snow had fallen while they spoke with Tammy. The Yukon was coated in white. Back in the driver’s seat, Sidney hit the steering wheel hard, cursing Grisly and the inadequate justice system that continually failed women.
Granger sat listening. “I hear you, Chief. I feel the same way.”
“Tammy’s story is all too common.” Sidney met his eyes. “I saw it over and over in Oakland. Woman not believed. Sex offenders going free. A woman is raped every two minutes in this country, Granger. That number is doubled among Native Americans. Only a small number of complaints ever make it to court, and only about half of those get convictions. Victims get no closure and are left dealing with trauma for the rest of their lives.”
“While their attackers walk, free to find another victim,” Granger said. “We’re going to get this guy, Chief. And the bastard that killed Nikah. We’ll make them pay.”
Granger’s emotions were running high, as were hers. Still, she knew better than to make predictions that might not materialize. Despite their best efforts, they might not wrap up the Stalker case anytime soon. They were dealing with a highly functioning perp who had eluded skilled trackers for six months. No DNA or other evidence had been collected. Back in Oakland, with even a dozen investigators on her team, some felons were never apprehended. Cases went cold. She hoped her two cases wouldn’t fall into that category.
In the meantime, there was nothing to do but keep plugging away at every lead. “Let’s go talk to this game warden,” she said. “What’s his name?”
“Harper Mead.”
“Let’s see if he’s been giving Grisly too much leeway.”
***
A lone truck emblazoned with the official department logo was parked in front of the Fish and Game office. It was a one-room cabin off the highway on the outskirts of town. Boughs heavy with snow leaned against the frame and smoke curled from a chimney pipe that was almost buried on the roof.
Harper Mead was holed up inside sitting behind a counter that took up h
alf the floor space. A pellet stove radiated heat in one corner. His eyebrows arched as they walked in and he quickly switched up his computer screen, but not before Sidney saw he’d been playing solitaire.
Gray-haired, stocky, with a bland face that had been burned and weathered by the sun, Meade looked like he was fast approaching his career expiration date. He wore a uniform much like their own, though his duty belt with his radio and gun were slung over a chair. Meade pushed his bifocals up on his forehead and stood with his hands resting on the counter. He smiled at Sidney in a rather stiff grimace. “Afternoon, Chief Becker. What brings you out this way?”
Her jacket covered her nametag, but she wasn’t surprised that he knew who she was. Her photo was routinely published in the paper. “Afternoon. You Harper Meade?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’d like some info on Grisly Stokes.”
“Grisly?” His expression soured and he ran a blue-veined hand across his chin. His voice dropped an octave and became nuanced with suspicion. “What kind of info?”
“Seems he has an undue number of dead animals in his barn. You been out there recently?”
“Not for a while. Never a pleasant experience. Let me look him up.” He pushed his glasses to the end of his nose and his fingers got busy on the keyboard. He scanned the screen for a moment before looking up. “He’s legal. No citations.”
“Who inspected Grisly last, and when?”
“That would’ve been me.” His eyes narrowed as he read the screen. He coughed, and then gazed at her with an unreadable expression. “July fifteenth.”
“Are you kidding me?” Granger said. “Five months ago?”
“We’re understaffed.” Flushing deeply from his neck to the tips of his oversized ears, he responded weakly, “I’m one of two game wardens for all of Linley County. That’s thousands of acres of forested land. Dozens of hunters, trappers, and fishermen to keep track of. You know how many outsiders come through here every month?”
Sidney took a deep breath to subdue a sudden rush of anger and pulled out her phone. She found the photos of Grisly’s barn and handed the cell to Meade. “This what his barn looked like when you were there last?”
With a blast of cold air, the door opened and a man shuffled in barricaded in a bulky jacket with the hood over his head. His legs were encrusted in snow past his ankles. He pushed back his hood to reveal a youthful, ruddy face, his head sheathed in a knit cap pulled down to his eyes. He yanked off his gloves, held out his hands to the heat of stove and worked his stiff fingers open and shut. He said with friendly familiarity, “Hey, Chief.”
“Hello,” she said, not recognizing him.
“It’s me, Sander Vance.” He pulled off his cap and a halo of unruly red hair tumbled around his ears. “I look different when I’m not in my summer uniform.”
Now she recognized him. She had encountered Sander routinely over the years on country roads and lakeshores, doing his job, examining licenses and the bounty of hunters and fishermen in the backcountry. “Of course,” she said, not wanting to be steered off course from her conversation with Meade.
Meade was scanning through each photo on her phone. “I know this looks bad, but Grisly’s always been legal. A lot of these animals were killed by his clients.”
“Are you aware that one or more trappers are poaching? Filing the registrations off of their traps? The villagers at Two Creeks have found quite a few. They believe Grisly’s one of them.”
Meade’s eyes shifted to the left, then returned after a long pause. He shrugged one shoulder, said in a robotic tone, “Don’t know anything about that.”
Meade was a terrible liar. He knew something, and was looking the other way. Why? Was he taking bribes? Being threatened? Or was he just lazy as hell?
“Do you ever talk to the folks at Two Creeks?”
“Hmmm. Been a while.”
“Maybe five months ago,” Sander said.
“How about you tear yourself away from your solitaire game, Harper,” Sidney said, her voice strained. “Get yourself out of this warm, comfy cabin, and head over to Grisly’s barn. How about you make sure he has a license for every dead animal on his property. And while you’re at it, examine every one of his traps.”
For a moment, a long moment, Meade stood expressionless and utterly still. Then his face tightened with indignation. “You have no authority here, Chief Becker. We’re state employees, working for the Department of Fish and Game. We don’t answer to you.”
“No, you don’t. But Bob Houston, the Oregon Director of Fish and Game, is a personal friend of mine. A very good friend. If you want to be a game warden long enough to see your pension, don’t make me put in a call to him.”
Meade blanched. He licked his lips, and said, “You see the weather out there? It’s dangerous to be on the road.”
“Drive slow,” Sidney said.
“Time’s a wasting. You better get started,” Granger said, looking like he wanted to grab Meade by the collar and yank him over the counter.
Meade took his sweet time piling on his winter gear. He tightened his mouth and shot darts of hostility at them, limping suddenly and wincing as he doddered out the door.
Sander had removed and hung his coat over the back of a chair in front of the stove. He was tall and gangly with a pleasant, freckled face and alert blue eyes. In the strained tension remaining in the room, he replaced Meade behind the counter, moved to a sideboard and poured coffee into a mug. “It’s deadly cold out there,” he said in a guarded tone, his posture stiff as he stirred sugar and powdered cream into his coffee.
“Yeah, we noticed,” Sidney said in a controlled tone, sorry she had lost her cool in front of Sander. The stress of the last two days was building up, looking for any small release. “How about you, Sander? You find any illegal traps?”
“No. Never.”
“You ever get out to the village?”
He shook his head. “That’s Harper’s responsibility.”
“Have you been out to Grisly’s place?”
“Nope. Like I said, that whole area around Nenámooks Lake is Harper’s area.”
“Take a look at these photos. Tell me what you think.”
Sander drew close and scanned her photos, then released a long, ragged breath. “Looks disgusting, and highly suspicious.” He frowned and continued in a heartfelt tone, “If it’s all the same to you, Chief, I’d rather not be drawn into this blowup with Harper. He’s a decent guy. Been on the job for thirty years. Just three months from retirement. He’s not well. Bad heart. Bad knees. He’s just hanging in there long enough to get his pension.”
“I appreciate your loyalty, Sander, but Harper isn’t doing his job. Wrongdoers are going unpunished. Animals are being slaughtered. Your loyalty should be to your job. Protecting the environment.”
“It’s not as bad as you think, Chief. I’ve been doing a lot of his field work.” Sander swallowed and his Adam’s apple traveled the full length of his long neck. “Just haven’t gotten out to Grisly’s yet.”
Sidney admired the young man’s principles, which influenced her decision to go easy on Meade. After all, he had put in thirty years of service, and truth be told, he didn’t look at all healthy. She wasn’t going to stand between him and his pension. “If you care about Harper, why don’t you get out there and help him with Grisly? Make sure he doesn’t cut corners. We’d like to bring Grisly in for questioning.”
“Sure. Will do.” He looked down at his cup for a moment and then his gaze met hers. “There’s something you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“Grisly came in here a few days ago. He said he spotted a big white wolf in the backcountry near Nenámooks Lake. He wanted Harper to give him a license to hunt it.”
A chill prickled Sidney’s scalp. Selena had told her that Tegan hung out with a huge white wolf—an animal that caused no one any harm and provided a blind boy with companionship and comfort. Now Grisly, a sick predator to
his very core, wanted the wolf’s carcass as a trophy. “What did Harper tell him?”
“He said absolutely not. Wolves are protected in Oregon. I thought Grisly’s claim was outlandish. Oregon has grey wolves. No white wolf has ever been spotted in these parts before.” He shook his head. “I found it disturbing how excited he was at the prospect of killing that animal. He creeped me out. One scary dude.”
“Couldn’t agree with you more. All the more reason why you need to get out there to provide backup for Harper.”
That jolted Sander into motion. They left the cabin together and climbed into their respective vehicles. Sander peeled out in record time, holding his radio mic up to his mouth.
“Hey, Chief, are you really on good terms with Bob Houston?”
One corner of her mouth tilted upwards. “I met him once, for about a minute.”
Granger chuckled. “Thought as much.”
Sidney pulled out of the lot and glanced at her watch. Almost 2:30 p.m. Tegan would be getting home from school and she was anxious to speak with him. She also felt an urgent need to tell Tommy that the white wolf might be in danger. The need to get Grisly behind bars loomed large in her mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
TEGAN WASN’T REALLY surprised when the head of their small school appeared in his classroom, approached his desk, and whispered to him to follow her. Out in the hallway, Tegan immediately smelled the sweet, spicy smell of Elahan. Cinnamon. Cloves. A hint of ginger. She had been baking apple bread when he left for school this morning. “Hi Nana,” he said.
“Kloshe sun,” she answered, greeting him in Chinook.
“I’ll leave him with you,” the woman said, and then her footsteps hurried down the hall to her office.
“I have everything ready, my boy,” Elahan said quietly. “Grab your jacket. Come with me.”
He found his outer garments among the many coats hanging from pegs in the musty hallway and hurriedly put them on. Elahan had advised him that morning to dress warmly, and when he stepped out the back door into the stunning cold he was thankful he had worn his warmest jacket, mittens, snow boots, hat, and long johns under his trousers. Flakes landed softly on his face and caught in his eyelashes as they crunched across the frozen meadow into the forest. The metallic smell of snow blended with the scent of pine and juniper as they zigzagged around the prickly boughs of trees. The distant sound of water grew louder as they approached White Tail Creek. Whimpering with pleasure, Lelou leapt and danced around him, snow flying, his tail swiping Tegan’s legs. Tegan found the wolf’s massive head and stroked the fur around his ears. “Hey boy, hey, hey. We’re going on an adventure.”