Fangs

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Fangs Page 8

by Vella Munn


  “I agree.”

  “They’re predators all right,” Darick said. “That’s what creatures like them become when no one’s feeding them. They’d see any carcass as dinner. I remember—it was at least a couple of years ago, I was in the back country on horseback when I realized I was being stalked. I stopped and waited for whatever it was to catch up with me. Three dogs. Ribs showing. Half-starved. Scared of me but desperate and dangerous.”

  “You never told me about that.”

  “No.” Darick briefly closed his eyes. “I got the hell out of there. Later I came back, thinking to trap them. By then, two were dead. The third was so bad off I had no choice but to finish him.”

  “Three dogs dead because some bastard left them in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Yeah. I’ve never gotten over that.”

  Which was why Darick hadn’t wanted to say anything. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. The dogs didn’t have collars or chips, so there was no way I could determine who was responsible for abandoning them. They were hungry enough to have been contemplating taking on a man on horseback.”

  “The gray killed the calf. Why the hell didn’t it start feeding? That’s what I don’t understand.”

  “Me either.”

  Right now there were too many unknowns and he didn’t see things getting better. “Mia’s quite the tracker. She says she was able to isolate the prints of five different animals. Right now I have no reason not to believe her.”

  “Going by the pictures, I can’t say whether I agree with her, but enough of the cow’s gone that I’m thinking that’s about right.”

  “What do we do?” He felt bad putting that to Darick, but neither could he stay quiet. “Warn the public?”

  Darick shook his head and eased himself into his chair. It groaned under his weight. Darick would make a good elk. For one thing, the way he carried himself said he didn’t take his body for granted. At six foot four inches, the former football player was bigger and stronger than most men. He kept his hair so short his scalp showed, and one go-around a day with a shaver wasn’t enough. Off-the-rack clothes weren’t designed to cover that much muscle, but that didn’t stop Darick from spending a lot of time at his home gym.

  Jeff, who worked at staying physically fit himself, had once asked Darick if his goal was to become a professional weight lifter. Darick had laughed and changed the subject. Close as Jeff felt he was to Darick, he didn’t know the whole story behind the scar running down Darick’s back. Some things a man kept to himself. Jeff respected that.

  Understood all too well.

  “What are we going to warn them of?” Darick asked. “We don’t know what’s out there.”

  “Also this complicates things.”

  The only photographs he hadn’t sent to Darick were those Mia had taken of Ice. He’d wanted to do that in person. Now he walked around the table and handed his cell phone to his friend.

  Darick stared. Stared some more.

  * * * *

  “You’ve met my grandfather,” Niko said. “You know how he loves to talk.”

  Mia smiled. “He’s one of my favorite people. How is he?”

  Mia had been treating the aphids she’d found on a number of trees with soapy water—because she preferred not to use chemicals—when she’d spotted Niko’s Jeep on her driveway. She’d intercepted the other woman before Niko reached the house. It was after eight-thirty in the morning, which meant Niko should have been at the high school. Judging by her friend’s slacks and blouse that was on her agenda, just not yet.

  “He’s getting harder and harder of hearing but he isn’t interested in a hearing aid. I dropped by his place this morning. Maybe I could have waited, but I wanted to ask him if he knew anything about a white elk.”

  Niko’s grandfather lived with his daughter and her husband. He had his own bedroom and bathroom. The arrangement seemed to work, probably because the younger people were gone during the day. Raymond had long been known as a tribal spokesman and had recently donated his collection of ceremonial masks to the tribe. The masks had been featured in a couple of regional magazines, and he’d been interviewed by several news agencies. His mind wasn’t as clear as it once was, either that or the hearing loss was isolating him. He was addicted to cranberry candy, which Mia enjoyed making for him. That was a large factor in why Raymond called her an honorary Indian.

  “Did you tell him why you were asking?”

  “Not exactly. What I said was I was putting something together for my students about what makes this part of the country special. I told him I wanted to combine present day information with traditional concepts. The class recently completed a segment about how having elk in the area contributes to the economy, so I was interested in anything he could tell me about how his ancestors saw the animals. I think he bought it.”

  “But to mention a white—”

  “Yeah, I don’t think I handled that well. I said, according to my research, Roosevelt elk color is pretty uniform, but maybe that has changed over the generations or maybe their coats get lighter in winter for camouflage.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know. Lame on my part, but I didn’t know how else to go about it without winding up telling him too much. I don’t want him having to decide whether to keep a confidence or share some exciting information. The point is and why I’m here instead of earning a living—Mia, he said his father told him about a massive bull hunters considered sacred. They didn’t hunt him because they wanted him to have as many offspring as possible. According to Grandpa, this bull had more cows in his herd than any other bull. He never lost a battle.”

  “Was he white?”

  “That’s where things get fuzzy,” Niko said. “Grandpa has a tendency to exaggerate.”

  “I’ve noticed that.”

  “I don’t think he’s ever heard a story he didn’t believe couldn’t be improved upon.”

  Mia chuckled.

  “Anyway, Grandpa said people called the bull Forest Master. He would turn snow-white in winter. There wasn’t a storm that made him duck for cover. Back then, there were wolves all over, but if they tried to go after his herd, Forest Master would gore them.”

  “Hunters saw him do that?” She wanted to believe, knew she couldn’t.

  Niko sighed. “That’s what Grandpa said. His father decided Forest Master was his spirit animal.” Niko paused. “Something occurred to me as I was leaving Grandpa’s place, something I’d seen. One of the masks he turned over to the tribal council—his father who was a chief had made it. It resembled an elk head and was mostly white.”

  Mia leaned against the dusty Jeep. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Neither do I. Mia…”

  Without a word being said, she knew what was on her friend’s mind. “I’m going back,” she said. “I have to try to find Ice.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “You don’t—”

  “Yes, I do.” Niko grabbed her arm. “You know I’ve been restless, wondering what I’m here for.”

  She could bring up Niko’s contributions to gifted students and her tribe, but her friend didn’t need to be reminded of those things.

  “I’m looking for something bigger,” Niko continued. “Something that engages me more than I’ve ever been.”

  Mia understood, because too many times lately she’d been feeling the same way.

  “When do we take off?” Niko asked. “I can’t bail today.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  Somewhere between nervous and excited, she nodded.

  “Now, here’s the big question,” Niko said. “Do we tell anyone what we’re up to?”

  “Like Jeff or Derrick?”

  “Exactly.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  “That’s what I hoped and thought you’d say. One thing—we need to make sure the men aren’t on the mountain when we are.”

  “Absolutely.”

&
nbsp; Chapter Seven

  “Shit. Shit.”

  Even with Lyle hissing beside him, Kendall couldn’t stop staring at the body they’d just found. The calf hadn’t died all that recently, but there weren’t any maggots, just a mass of flies. The positioning of the neck left him in little doubt as to why it was dead. There was also dried blood around the muzzle.

  “Do you think that’s the dead elk’s baby?” Melinda asked.

  Calf, not baby. “That would be my guess.” He readied himself for another of Melinda’s stupid comments, but Lyle’s girlfriend had been pretty quiet this morning. To his relief, it didn’t appear as if that was going to change right away.

  Instead of hanging back like Melinda was doing, Summer stood over the calf. “Did you guys have anything to do with this? If I turn it over, am I going to find a bullet hole?”

  “No,” he snapped. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Hell no. All you do is hunt out of season.” She sighed. “Look at the color. It’s almost albino. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  Kendall had. Once, and not long ago. He stared at his cousin, who stared back. Going by Summer’s narrowing eyes, she’d spotted the interplay between them.

  “Was the calf dead or alive when its mother was killed?” she asked, instead of demanding to be told what they were thinking. “I don’t know that much about decomposition, but both animals seem like they’re in the same condition.”

  He would probably never understand his girlfriend. Where he wished to hell he wasn’t standing here staring at a life cut short by forces he couldn’t comprehend, she seemed more fascinated than repelled.

  “The body isn’t all torn up,” she continued. “Just that broken neck.”

  Lyle snorted. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

  “Oh, shut up!” Summer snapped. “Unless you can explain this, how about you keep your mouth zipped?”

  “Like you’re the only one who has a right to speak,” Lyle shot back.

  “At least I’m making sense.” Summer glared. “Go on. Give being smart a try by explaining the coloration.”

  “That’s none of your damn business.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Kendall didn’t want his cousin and girlfriend to be arguing or for Lyle to say something stupid. Hell, yes, the calf’s color was her business. That was what this whole damn trip had been about.

  As if second guessing himself wasn’t bad enough, the more time he’d spent on Dark Mountain last night, the less he’d wanted to be here. Even with Summer in the same sleeping bag, he hadn’t been able to dismiss where they were long enough to get it up. If she was disappointed, she hadn’t said anything. Maybe she’d been as nervous as he was—not that she’d ever admit it.

  Daylight had changed things a bit, made it easier—until they’d found the second body. With the sun pushing back the shadows, he’d been able to relax and tease the girls about a secret that was right under their noses. As far as he could tell, Melinda hadn’t gotten it. In contrast, Summer was being patient. And calm, a calm even Melinda had cued into.

  From early childhood, Kendall had spent countless hours in the forest with men who would rather go camping than have sex. His old man and his hunting buddies now considered him one of them, a contributing member of the group. Someone who carried his own rifle and backpack, shot with a steady hand, and went right work gutting a fresh kill.

  He was here, not to impress his girlfriend or cousin, but because he was determined to do something no other hunter had done—bag an elk that would be talked about for decades.

  It was either search for the white bull today or risk someone else bagging it. Coming in, not just second, but out of the running. Maybe never having anything to boast about. Giving Summer no reason to stick around.

  Acknowledging that the bullet he’d put into the cow might have played a role in the calf’s death made him want to apologize to both of them, but shit had happened. He couldn’t change anything.

  What he could do was move forward. Get away from where wolves or dogs had been feeding.

  And, if he worked hard enough at it, not tie himself into knots trying to figure out who or what had killed the calf.

  “Does this change things?” Lyle asked. “Do we stay or go home?”

  He hated hearing his cousin sounding unsure of himself. Lyle was supposed to have his back.

  “That’s a stupid question,” Summer said. “Why would we leave now?”

  “Are you kidding?” Melinda shook her head so hard Kendall wondered if she was going to dislocate it, not that he’d care. “There’s not just one dead elk but two. And wild dogs feeding on the cow.”

  “So?” Summer planted her hands on her hips. “As far as anyone back home knows, this is the first we’ve been up here, right? Kendall, Lyle, your folks wouldn’t say anything, would they?”

  “Hell no.”

  “So if we absolutely have to, which if we handle this right we won’t, we tell everyone that the four of us wanted some privacy, that’s all. We brought along our weapons because we’d be crazy not to. And we used the trailers because we weren’t sure how long we were going to be here and wanted a lot of supplies. We’ll all say how shocked we were by what we found. We decided to stick around, hoping that whatever has been feeding on the cow will return. That way we could identify it—or I should say them.”

  Summer’s explanation was almost more than he could wrap his mind around. He might have been able to determine whether it all held together if not for her expression. He’d seen that expression before, like when she’d told him she’d been stealing at the lumber yard. She didn’t take much, less than a hundred bucks in cash a week. She’d grinned when she told him how she’d aced her school reports by lifting most of them from the Internet. She could have written them herself, but why work harder than she had to?

  “What are you getting at?” Lyle asked.

  She grinned. “That it’s time for the games playing to end. Why are we here?”

  She was right. He’d strung her along long enough and had done a piss-poor job of it. “I know why the calf is the color it is. So does Lyle, right?”

  Sighing, his cousin nodded.

  “Because we saw its daddy. Biggest, whitest damn trophy bull there ever was.”

  * * * *

  “Dark Mountain,” Ram said. “Of course I know where it is. What’s this about?”

  “Have you been up it recently?” Jeff asked.

  “No, but are you going to believe me?”

  Jeff had waited until Ram’s shift at the lumber mill was over before approaching him. He’d already talked to three locals who’d been convicted of hunting out of season and had gotten nowhere. In contrast, as far as he knew, Ram was law-abiding.

  He’d thought Ram might try to avoid him when he’d called out as Ram was heading for his truck, but Ram had stopped and waited. Several of Ram’s co-workers were watching. Seeing one of their fellow employees talking to a uniformed law enforcement officer was enough to grab their attention.

  “That’s a good question,” Jeff said. “At this point, I can’t take anything at face value.”

  “Then why are you asking?”

  He couldn’t remember how many times he’d worked with hostile citizens when he was a cop. There hadn’t been much of that since he’d changed uniforms, but talking to Ram brought a lot back.

  “There’s a situation up there. I was hoping you might have heard something that’ll help the investigation. You know the woods around here better than most people and have a lot of contacts.”

  Ram leaned against his dirty pickup and scratched the side of his neck He was tired, a man anticipating a beer. Jeff could relate.

  “What investigation?” he asked.

  While waiting to talk to Ram, he’d debated how much to tell him. In the end, he’d decided to lay much of it on the table. Ram had been at work when the cow was killed, but the man could give him a short list of suspects—if
he was inclined to, which Jeff doubted. Ram was old school. He wanted to live his life free of governmental interference.

  Ram kept moving his hands from his pockets to his armpits to his thighs as Jeff spelled out everything, starting with Mia’s phone call and ending with describing the dead cow and calf. He’d mentioned Mia by name because her farm was so close to Dark Mountain that he figured Ram would put one and one together. Despite still looking as if he needed to get off his feet, Ram was listening to every word. His expression didn’t change.

  “So Mia thinks dogs made most but not all of the tracks,” Ram said, when Jeff was done. “If anyone else said that I’d say they were crazy, but she learned a lot living in Alaska.”

  “You know that about her?”

  “Hell yes. We used to be—tight.”

  “Tight?”

  Ram winked. “Oh, yeah. I suggested she hire herself out as a hunting guide like I do. I said I could show her the ropes, but I didn’t mean it. I don’t want her out there with a bunch of horny men, if you know what I’m getting at.”

  Learning that Ram and Mia had a history complicated things. He just hoped his surprise didn’t show. “She heard shots, which means she wasn’t far from where it happened,” he stressed. “She was in danger without knowing it.”

  “Could be. She’s so darned independent, too much so as far as I’m concerned.”

  “That bothers you?”

  Ram frowned. “Why are you asking?”

  “I don’t know her that well,” he hedged. “She’s my primary source for the investigation so of course I’d like to get a handle on her.”

  “Good luck.” Ram pushed away from the truck, opened the door, and slid in, sitting with his legs outside. “Let me get this straight. You’re asking if I’ve seen or heard about someone seeing elk on Dark.”

  “Yes. You know what’s happening in the hunting community.”

  “Not lately. I’ve been working my ass off. Damn, my feet are killing me. I didn’t work this hard when I was bailing Mia out.”

 

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