Pursue

by Vella Munn

“Exactly. What gets to me is that the pups were part of it.”

  “Second generation vigilantes,” she muttered.

  “If that’s what you want to call them. Because Elizabeth fled as soon as she realized what was happening and none of the neighbors went in, police can only speculate about the attack itself. It was violent.”

  “Did you see James?”

  “Yeah. That’s two murders this fall, compliments of the grays. I hope to hell I never have to see something like that again.”

  No wonder he’s so upset. This wasn’t about her so much as it was about his reaction. “I’m sorry.”

  “Only we both know this isn’t going to be the end of it, don’t we? There’s the matter of Hope and her foal.”

  Instead of responding, she studied the slowly moving windshield wipers.

  “I debated trying to get you while James’ body was still there, but in the end I couldn’t.”

  Should I thank him? Maybe, but not saying anything was easier.

  “This was worse than what happened to Cheryl.” He continued. “More damage done.”

  She dug her nails into her palms. “Oh god.”

  “Not god, Masauwu.”

  “All right, Masauwu.” Despite her anger, she understood where he was coming from. She too would probably want to lash out. Anything would be better than letting certain images take over. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish you hadn’t had to see what you did.”

  “It goes with the job.”

  “No, it doesn’t! The grays came through the window. That means there’s broken glass. Was there any sign they’d been cut?”

  “There’s dog hair and blood on some of the shards.”

  A few days ago she’d been heading for Dogwood Campground on horseback with Chinook keeping her company. There’d been no indication her world would forever be changed because she’d chosen to spend the day outside. Now she wasn’t sure she was the same person.

  “How much blood?”

  “In total or what came from the grays? It looks as if James bled out.”

  Her mouth sagged.

  “This is your one chance,” he said after studying her for several seconds. “If you think you can’t take going in, let me know now.”

  She worked at getting feeling back into her lips. “No, you’re right. I need to do this.”

  * * * *

  A local police car, two from the state police and several unmarked vehicles were clustered in the parking area around an apartment with an open door and police tape stretched over the entrance. Several people she figured lived at the complex stood in a loose group to the left. She nodded to acknowledge the two cars bearing the logos of regional TV stations. A male reporter held a microphone to the older man he was interviewing while a tall, skinny female reporter did the same with a woman who looked to weigh over two hundred pounds.

  “The reporters showed up not long before I left,” Darick explained as he eased into a tight parking spot. “O’Neil called while I was on my way to pick you up.”

  “O’Neil. Your reporter friend.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to tell him everything you saw?”

  “Yeah. I want to make sure one member of the press gets it right. The heavyset woman is the one who took care of Elizabeth.”

  In other words, while she’d been sleeping, getting ready to go to work, swinging by the vet hospital and walking into the school, the people here were being sucked into their own life-altering experience. Although she’d have preferred to remain in the SUV, she was also tempted to let them know she understood.

  “Detective Anders should still be here,” Darick said. “We need to do this.”

  “What you mean is, you believe I need to do this.”

  She punctuated her comment by opening the door and stepping out into a light rain. A number of gazes fixed on her. Hoping she could keep her expression from giving her hesitation away, she headed toward the gaping door. Darick caught up but didn’t touch her. Their shoes squeaked on the wet cement.

  Do it. Prove yourself. Understand as you’ll never be able to otherwise.

  Because the day was so gray, she didn’t have to wait for her eyes to adjust to being indoors after ducking under the no trespassing tape. As the sound of male voices reached her, she acknowledged how hard it must be for Darick to return. She was tempted to squeeze his hand but settled for waiting for him to stand beside her.

  A local cop and one of the state policemen stopped talking and stared at her. “That’s her?” the state officer said. “The woman who found the dog belonging to the victim? Someone’s going to want to talk to her.”

  “Not yet,” Darick said.

  She glared at Darick. “Is that why you were determined to get me here? So someone can grill me? I’ve already talked to Detective Anders.”

  “That was before this happened. It’s a new chapter.”

  “Damn you.”

  “Yeah, damn me.”

  When she didn’t reply, Darick took hold of her forearm and led her toward what she assumed was the room James had died in, because that was where the other voices were coming from. At the doorway, the smell of blood assaulted her. It took all her will not to try to pull free.

  Four men were in the small room, only one in uniform. They acknowledged her with nods then went back to taking pictures or making notes. The bedding looked as if a war had been waged on it, with sheets, blankets and bedspread twisted about. Everything was drenched in dark red. One sodden pillow was on the floor. The other was stuck to the headboard. More wet blood stained the thin carpet around the bed. The human body held that much blood? It didn’t seem possible.

  “Do you have any idea how long you’re going to be here?” Darick asked. She thought he was talking to her until she noticed Detective Anders, who she recognized from seeing on TV, standing a few feet away. He was older than she’d thought from his voice.

  “No, I don’t. There’s still a lot that needs to be done.” The detective jerked his head at a taller man. “Accustomed as I am to handling local investigations by myself, this time I’m working with a state police detective. So, Niko, what do you think?”

  He’d called her by name, which meant Darick must have told him he was going after her. She wished Detective Anders had given her more time to pull herself together before asking the question. Maybe it was deliberate. “What do you mean, what do I think?”

  “Is this what you expected?”

  Their earlier conversation had been cordial. She didn’t know how to handle the change. “I still don’t get what you’re saying, unless you’re waiting for me to apologize. I had nothing to do with what happened to James Moyan.”

  “Maybe not directly but—” He swiveled so he was looking directly at her. “I need you to tell me something and for it to be the truth. You’re sure you’ve never been here before?”

  “Never. Are you thinking, what, that I might be involved?”

  “At this point I can’t dismiss anything.”

  “Oh. This—it’s horrible.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Darn it, the only thing she’d done was rescue a now dead man’s dog. Feeling sick to her stomach, she turned toward where fresh air was coming from. Most of the pane was missing, but a few shards clung to the frame. Several short hairs stuck to the pieces, held in place by blood.

  At least one of the grays was or had been bleeding. Whichever one it was probably hadn’t given a thought to injury before slamming into the glass. Masauwu’s control over the animals must have been that strong.

  Still feeling overwhelmed, she noted the glass on the windowsill and floor. There was so much of it. Then, although she’d told herself she wouldn’t, couldn’t, she forced herself to look at the bed again. James had died there, fighting and screaming even though he must have known resisting wouldn’t save him. Maybe his life had flashed before him, maybe his mind had refused to process what was happening, maybe he’d tried to gouge out an eye. None
of those things mattered because he’d never think or act or hurt or bleed again.

  Maybe he’d known why he was being killed.

  “We don’t have to stay,” Darick said. “You understand?”

  “What they’re capable of, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  Her lips were numb. Every molecule of her being wanted to leave, so why was she crouching and picking up a bloody piece of glass? A single short gray hair was stuck to it, and despite her concern that she might be compromising the investigation, she pulled the hair free and held it up to the light.

  It was a tiny thing, no more important than the other evidence the gray had left behind, and yet she continued to hold it between thumb and forefinger. It seemed to be getting warmer.

  “Niko.”

  Her head started to pound. No one, not even Darick, was talking to her.

  “Niko. Feel my presence. Acknowledge me.”

  She couldn’t let go of the hair. The room and those in it went out of focus.

  “You know who I am. Don’t deny it.”

  “Masauwu,” she said under her breath.

  “Yes. You are now part of what I am doing. It is time for you to become one with them.”

  “Them? The grays?”

  “Reach out for them, make the connection.”

  “Niko.” Darick shook her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know. It—something I can’t explain just happened.”

  “Did it frighten you?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I’m not afraid. Excited.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “Not yet.”

  * * * *

  “You’ve already seen her today. Maybe you’d rather I take you back to school before I go there.”

  As if she could accomplish anything today. What Darick didn’t need to know was that she intended to go home as soon as possible so she’d have the quiet she needed to try to make sense of what had happened. She’d tried to tuck the hair into her pocket but wasn’t sure it was there, not that it mattered. Getting away from Darick appealed to her, but concern for Hope would only distract her from Masauwu’s words if she didn’t see her first.

  “I’d like to go with you.”

  “I won’t be able to stay long. I’m supposed to meet with O’Neil again.”

  “Have you decided what you’re going to tell him?”

  He shifted his hold on the steering wheel, then glanced at her. “I intend to describe everything I saw and explain as best I can what the grays are up to.”

  Masauwu had commanded her to reach out to the grays. “What about your opinion of what they’re doing? Are you going to say anything about that?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s one thing to objectively debate an eye for an eye, another to stand where justice, maybe, was served. I’ve done that twice this week. It colors my perspective.”

  Of course it did, but he hadn’t carried a newborn foal. He hadn’t run his hands over the side of a mare with nothing but skin covering her ribs. They’d already had this discussion and probably would again, but not now.

  “Does tension impact your back?”

  “What? Sometimes.”

  “So it’s pretty bad today?”

  “Some.”

  “That’s no answer.”

  “Maybe it isn’t.”

  The rain had increased, and the windshield wipers slapped. Where were the grays? When, if ever, would she see them again? Masauwu was asking too much of her. Condoning their behavior when she wasn’t part of it was one thing. It was something else if they attempted to justify violence to her.

  “How did you hurt it?” she asked.

  “Being stupid.”

  Darick wasn’t a reckless man. He wouldn’t have been hired or held onto his job if he was but accidents happened.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it—”

  “I don’t, but I think it’s time.”

  “Time?”

  “The story might help you understand what motivates me, why I’m concerned for you.”

  “Concern? I’d say your behavior toward me today is more complex than that.”

  “Are we going to debate or will you let me explain?”

  “Explain.”

  “This is—I’m not sure why I’m saying this since usually I try not to think about it. I worked for the national park service before Fish and Wildlife hired me. I was stationed in Yellowstone, dating an employee at Old Faithful lodge. Things had gotten serious between us. Very serious.”

  Judging by how his voice dropped at the end, she guessed he’d been in love. It made no sense, but she envied whatever it was they’d had.

  “Jenice hung out with two other young female staff members.” He stared out. “The three of them, when they were together, they did some pretty reckless things. When Jenice told me she and her friends might hike to Mount Washburn on their day off, I warned them that the forecast was for rain. At the elevation they were considering going to, over ten thousand feet, they were likely to encounter snow, since it was October. None of them had done much hiking, but they wanted to get as far from the tourists as possible. It snowed. They didn’t return.”

  She pressed her hand against her knotted stomach.

  His mouth tightened. “I tried to get other park employees to help me look for them, but the girls hadn’t filed a hike plan. I couldn’t convince anyone, myself included, that they were on Washburn. My supervisor told me to wait until the storm was over, but all I could think of was Jenice maybe hurt out there.”

  “Or one of the other ladies.”

  “Of course I considered that, but I was crazy about Jenice.” He shook his head. “She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever known. She turned every male head. I couldn’t believe she’d picked me to, you know.”

  “So you went looking for her by yourself?”

  “Yes. Cell phones don’t work in that area but I had my Push-To-Talk so I could call if I needed assistance. It was getting dark by the time I’d covered the two and a half miles from the Chittenden parking area. Jenice’s car was there.”

  “Did you call for help then?”

  “No. As long as they hadn’t done anything stupid like go off the trail, I figured I could find them faster on my own.”

  “I guess that makes sense. I’ve never been there.”

  “I had. Looking back, I think that gave me more confidence than I should have had. At least they’d had the sense to bring along flashlights. I had a headlamp. They heard me calling and used the lights to help me locate them.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Jenice had lost her footing in a gravel area and had tumbled down a slope. She’d gone about two hundred feet before she was able to stop, but couldn’t get up. I’d brought some rope along, so after fastening the rope to a tree, I made my way to her.”

  “It was night. Was it still snowing?”

  “Getting worse. I managed to tie the rope around her—she’d broken her ankle and sprained an arm. Despite the pain she was in, her friends pulled her up.”

  “What about you?”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “Well what?”

  “Once Jenice was at the top, they threw the rope to me, or at least they tried to. Unfortunately, they couldn’t get it close enough for me to grab. I had to leave the ledge I was on and try to crawl over to it.” He paused. “The snow was slippery. I lost my footing. Fell. Landed on a boulder on my back.”

  “Oh Darick! That’s—how did you get out?”

  He rubbed the steering wheel. “One of Jenice’s friends offered to go for help. I’d lost the Push-To-Talk when I fell. Between the storm and the distance she and the rescuers had to travel, it was afternoon of the next day before they got me out of there.”

  Judging by where his gaze was trained, she concluded he was tracking the windshield wipers. She tried to put herself in the position of someone with a throbbing back waiting in the frozen night and list
ening to the woman he loved cry. There’d be precious little to think about except the extent of their injuries and whether he’d ever walk again.

  “I don’t know what to say.” She settled her fingers over his. “Did—you must have asked yourself whether you could have helped Jenice without going after her. If you had, you might not have gotten hurt.”

  “That isn’t me. If I believe I can help someone, I put that person first.”

  Even if that meant risking becoming crippled? “Do you think you might have given the other women more chances to get the rope closer to you if you hadn’t been anxious to get back to Jenice? Maybe, if she hadn’t been so scared and in pain, you would have waited for rescuers to arrive.”

  “What happened, happened. She was depending on me.”

  They were nearly at Doc Beck’s place—time for just one more question.

  “Do you ever wish you weren’t like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Taking everything on your shoulders?”

  “I can’t change what I am.”

  Just as I can’t change what I’m becoming.

  * * * *

  Unlike this morning, when she’d been standing on her own, Hope was in a sling to keep her from collapsing. Her head hung and her lower lip sagged, making her look drunk. She didn’t react when Darick and Niko entered her stall. Needing time to reconcile himself to the mare’s deteriorating condition, he went to where Mist was curled in a corner of the stall and knelt near the little colt. Because they’d briefly talked to Doc before coming in here, he’d prepared himself for what he was going to see, but it didn’t make it any easier. Right now, swamped by memories of what James had looked like, he’d have given a great deal to get into his car and drive until he couldn’t any more. Except, as he’d told Niko, that wasn’t him.

  “You can’t give up.” Niko wrapped her arms around Hope’s neck and pressed her lips against her forehead. “Think of what you’ve survived. Don’t let the bastard who brought you to this win. Be the mother your baby deserves. Just—please hang on. Get better. Let the medicine work.”

  Hope nickered but didn’t straighten. Darick waited for more words of encouragement from Niko. Instead, she rubbed the mare’s neck.