by Vella Munn
“You’re right,” she said. “I intend to keep Masauwu and his influence over the grays out of it.”
“Then what are you going to say?”
“Describe the condition I found the dog in, of course.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do this.”
“It isn’t your decision to make. Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. I’m going to—”
“Don’t hang up yet. Niko?”
He placed his hand over the top of the beer can and pushed down. As agitated as he was, he wouldn’t be surprised if he flattened it. Dealing with splattered beer would give him something to do.
“What?” She sounded impatient.
“I think I need to tell you something else.”
“Now?”
“I believe so.”
“Then do it.”
“Five years ago I nearly lost my baby sister to a bullet. Ever since, I haven’t been able to stand on the sidelines.”
“A bullet? What happened?”
“She was married to a man who tried to rule everything about her. I met him shortly before Harmony and Perry got married. My parents threw a party to welcome him into the family. He got drunk. Something I’d said set him off. I don’t remember what it was. When I suggested we agreed to disagree and move on, he challenged me to a fist fight.”
“That’s crazy.”
“That’s what I told him. Harmony talked him out of it, but the next day I asked her if she was sure she knew what she was doing. She was so in love, blind to what concerned the rest of the family. Anyway, it didn’t take her long to realize that what she thought was his way of showing her how much he loved her was going to suffocate her.”
“I’ll never understand the thinking of men like that, or why some women stay with them.”
“Neither will I.” Someday, maybe, he’d tell Niko everything he knew about how Perry had treated his sister. “I nearly lost it when I saw her with bruises, but she begged me to let her handle things. I’d never been able to deny Harmony anything, spoiled her like crazy. Even concerned as I was, I couldn’t run her life.”
“Your parents must have been worried.”
“Of course, but Perry was isolating her. Instead of keeping in contact with her, I focused on me. I’ll always regret that.”
“You were living your life. She was doing the same.”
“And making a mess of it.” He hated saying that about his sister, but he was frayed. As a result, judging before speaking was asking too much of him. “The first time she tried to leave him, he yanked her out of the car and tried to run her over.”
“My god.”
“Fortunately the neighbors saw and called the police. Despite the road rash all over her, she refused to go to the hospital, but Perry was arrested and charged with assault. By the time he got out on bail, Dad and I’d packed her belongings and taken her to our folks’ place.” He didn’t dare close his eyes. If he did, he’d be swamped by images of Harmony’s tearful face. “She took out a restraining order against him. I kept telling her how proud I was of her and went back to my own life.” He took a swallow of beer. “Told myself everything had been resolved.”
“But it hadn’t been.”
A few minutes ago he’d been relieved because he and Niko weren’t together. Now he’d give a great deal to see her expression. How would she respond if he insisted on accompanying her to the interview?
As if I don’t know.
“Harmony hadn’t told me much about her day-to-day life with Perry.” He stared at the can. “That’s wrong. She insisted she wasn’t ready to talk about it, and I didn’t push. I’d always let her have her way. What none of us knew was that Perry had been calling and texting her, demanding to be given another chance. She was pregnant.”
“Did you know about that?”
“No. Mom did, but Harmony had made her promise not to say anything because she knew how Dad and I’d react.”
“Which was?”
“To make sure Perry didn’t get anywhere near their child. Later she told me how confused she was. Perry had wanted children. She believed he’d be a good father.”
“Perfect except for trying to kill his child’s mother.”
“Yeah.” Finish this. Free Niko to do what she’s committed to. “Finally she agreed to see him, but it had to be in a public place. He tried to get her to do what she could to have the assault charge dropped.”
“Did he know she was pregnant?”
“No. Harmony told me she kept tearing up during their meeting. Near as she could tell, Perry took that to mean she still loved him and he could get her back. They were in a restaurant. He talked her into going outside with him. Once they were, he was all over her, trying to have sex.”
“In public?”
“It was night, but yes, he wanted a quickie in the parking lot. She pushed him away. He grabbed her and started shaking her. I don’t know what would have happened if a couple of men hadn’t left the restaurant about then. She begged them to help her, and they told Perry to leave her the hell alone.”
“Good for her. She did the right thing.”
“Except she didn’t tell her family or the police what had happened.”
“What? Why not?”
“She told me she doesn’t have an answer, except maybe she needed time to process everything.” He downed half of the beer in a long swallow. “Unfortunately, she didn’t get that time, because he was waiting for her when she got to work the next morning. He shot her.”
“Oh god.”
He stared at his kitchen without seeing it. “Fortunately Perry’s a lousy shot. We think he’d aimed at her chest, but the bullet struck her in the leg. She’ll always walk with a cane.”
“I don’t know what to say. That’s horrible.”
“If she’d confided in me, I would have been with her.”
“And maybe gotten shot yourself.”
“At least I would have done something, instead of telling myself she was safe because she was living with our parents. She miscarried. Perry was convicted of attempted murder. End of story, except for her nightmares and me knowing I failed her.”
“Darick, I’m not your sister. No one’s going to try to kill me.”
“That’s what I believed before my brother-in-law put a bullet in my sister. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“The thing with the grays isn’t the same as what your sister experienced.”
If he could, he’d lock Niko up until he was certain she wasn’t in danger. As he saw it, there wasn’t much difference between a bullet and fangs—or some bastard’s belief that he had a right to punish the woman who’d exposed him for letting a horse starve.
“Are you planning on telling O’Neil about Hope and Mist?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“It could put you in danger.”
“Darick, this isn’t the same as what your sister went through. Hope and Mist deserve justice. I have to do what I can to make sure that happens. ”
“Not if it puts your life in jeopardy.”
She groaned. “We aren’t getting anywhere. Goodbye.”
* * * *
Niko was halfway to where O’Neil was staying before she’d calmed down enough to put what Darick had said into perspective. At first she’d been furious at him, but as she took a chance on punching in Doc Beck’s private number while behind the wheel, she reminded herself that Darick’s objection to her bringing up Hope was indeed tightly interwoven with his belief that he’d failed his sister. She wished he didn’t feel the way he did, but she couldn’t do anything about it.
“I’d love to tell you there’s been a change for the better,” Doc said, after agreeing to take and send an up-to-date picture of Hound to her, “but she’s the same. She isn’t fighting to live.”
“I’m surprised having her foal in w
ith her isn’t making a difference.”
“Most mares have motherly instinct, but I think this is a case of too much shock to the system. Hope—I’ve decided to stick with the name you gave her—spent her whole life trusting that the humans in her world would do right by her. Then someone didn’t. She can’t wrap her mind around the fact that she’s been betrayed.”
“But she’s surrounded by people who are taking care of her.”
“Unfortunately, that isn’t making an impact.”
After telling Doc what she was on her way to do, she hung up. Night was here. The rain had let up, but she still needed to use her windshield wipers. No matter what the weather was like tomorrow, she’d somehow steal enough time to walk along the shore. Watching the waves on their endless journey and smelling the sea had always calmed her. She’d put her mind on such weighty matters as what to buy her relatives for Christmas and whether to get Chinook bred. Puppies might be exactly what she needed in her life now.
O’Neil was staying at a weathered bed and breakfast not far from Seadrift Bay. She’d attended an open house there when it had changed hands so she knew it had five rooms. O’Neil had told her he was in the room farthest from the front entrance. It wasn’t scheduled to be remodeled until next spring, but it had a glass-enclosed porch heated by a small wood stove.
“This is perfect,” she said as O’Neil led her into the porch. “If it was daylight, we’d be able to see the woods, right?”
“Right. The owners didn’t want to rent this unit because the carpet’s in such bad shape, but it’s literally the last room in town.”
“Because of the media?”
“Yeah. We’re here in droves. Is there anything I can get you? I brought a thermos full of coffee from where I had dinner.”
Thinking she’d have enough trouble sleeping without adding caffeine, she declined and sat in the chair closest to the glass. Cold air penetrated her shoulder and the side of her head. O’Neil was what Grandpa would call a tall drink of water, probably in his fifties, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. He needed a haircut and looked tired, all except for his eyes, which hadn’t left her since he’d met her at the office. His camera and recording equipment were on the coffee table.
They chatted about high school football, deep sea fishing, road construction and how commercial the holidays had become. Almost before she knew it, a good half hour had passed. Obviously, O’Neil was trying to get her to relax and find out a little about him. It was working.
“Are you ready for me to start recording?” he asked. “I’m planning on turning our interview over to the regional TV stations as soon as I do a quick and dirty edit. Management at all three stations are eager to get their hands on what we talk about. They’re hoping to incorporate the interview into the eleven o’clock news.”
Although he’d told her this when she’d agreed to talk to him, it took her a moment to nod. He picked up the compact video camera, which had a built-in microphone and recorder.
“I’ll introduce you to viewers once we’re done. I’d like to get right to my questions. I don’t want to direct what you say, so if I start going where you don’t want me to, call me on it. For the record, I’ve been to where you found the hound.”
She tensed. “How were—did you take pictures?”
“Of course. And so you don’t have to ask, I saw the dead chickens. Is that something you want to talk about?”
“No! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound—I want this to be about the dog.”
He frowned. “And about the grays. Let’s get that on the table, all right? From talking to law enforcement, I have no doubt who killed that couple. No one does. I want you to make them part of this conversation.”
Determined not to let the reporter direct things, she detailed how she’d found the hound and the condition he’d been in.
“The only thing I cared about was getting him to the vet as quickly as possible. It wasn’t until he was in safe hands that I allowed myself to question how someone could have allowed something so horrible happen. There’s no excuse, absolutely none.”
“Do you believe the dog’s owners deserved to die?”
She stared into the camera. “That’s not for me to answer.” Masauwu made that decision.
“The dog is still alive. The couple he belonged to died in the most violent way possible.”
“Yes, they did.”
“You must have feelings about that. The dog would still be suffering and perhaps James and Cheryl Moyan would be alive if you hadn’t set the wheels in motion.”
She had to hand it to O’Neil. For a mild-seeming man, he knew how to push. If her day had been something approaching normal, she might have been able to dodge the comment. Instead, she didn’t try.
“The only thing I really care about is that a helpless dog has a chance at a decent life.”
“Then you don’t care about James and Cheryl?”
She gripped the arm rests. “I’ll never condone what they did. The grays felt justified in their actions. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have attacked.”
“And that’s enough for you?”
“Yes, it is.” She took a deep breath. A few feet away, the wind grabbed a handful of rain and slammed it against the glass. Maybe the force behind the wind and what drove the grays had a lot in common. They might even come from the same source. “I’m not judge and jury, but something is.”
“Not ‘something’. A pack of dogs.”
“The Moyans were found guilty. They paid for their crime.”
“That’s a harsh way of putting it.”
As more rain battered the glass, she imagined it all around her and her becoming part of nature. She was already halfway there.
“Yes, it is, but I have a powerful reason for saying that.” She shot a look at O’Neil, then went back to staring into the camera. “I believe this”—she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket—“will leave no doubt about why I feel the way I do.”
No longer concerned with being recorded, she accessed her pictures and located the first one she’d taken of Hope. Then she handed the phone to O’Neil, who stared at the image.
“What’s this?” His voice was tight and small.
“A mare I found in the woods not far from Dogwood Campground. She’d just given birth. I also have pictures of the foal. Both animals are under vet care. The foal is doing well, considering he was premature. The mare might not live.”
“You found them?”
“Yes.” She debated explaining how that had come about, but she still wanted to minimize her contact with the grays as much as possible. If she said too much, people might think she controlled the grays, when it was the other way around. “Obviously, the mare had been deprived of food for a long time.”
At O’Neil’s prompting, she explained how she’d gotten the mare and colt to the campground and the role two Fish and Wildlife officers with a horse trailer had played. O’Neil’s voice was clipped. It was almost as if he’d forgotten he was a reporter.
“That”—she pointed at her cell—“is what animal abuse looks like and why I can’t be objective about the two recent human deaths. It hits me where I live. Whoever did that to the mare is getting away with attempted murder.”
“Then you don’t know who the responsible party is?”
“No, and that’s the hell of it.” Maybe Masauwu doesn’t either. “I’m hoping someone somewhere has the guts to come forward. That beautiful and pathetic mare has an owner. What I want to know is why. Why the hell did you starve an innocent creature, and are you man or woman enough to admit it? If I hadn’t been in the right place at the right time, Hope and Mist would have died. Hope still might.”
O’Neil turned off the video recorder. “Holy shit,” he muttered. “I didn’t expect—please forward the pictures you took of the mare and foal to me.”
Suddenly exhausted, she tried to focus on the reporter. “What are you going to do with them?”
“Make this the story.” He ja
bbed a bony finger at her phone. “It’s what you want, isn’t it? Why you agreed to see me. You’re determined to do everything you can to expose the bastard who—you haven’t told me the whole story, have you?”
She could play dumb, but what was the point? “No.”
“Like how, as you said, you were in the right place at the time to come across the mare before it was too late and how you happened to be on the Moyan property.”
“Those things don’t matter.”
“Yes, they do, but you aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“No.”
He started to straighten, only to give up on what might be too much of an effort for him. “Now I understand why Darick said I needed to talk to you.”
“Darick…”
“Young lady, you’ve handed me the story every reporter spends a lifetime looking for, but now that I have it, at least part of it, I’m not sure I want it.”
“I know I don’t.”
Chapter Twelve
Darick was surprised when Niko pulled alongside his vehicle, which was parked at her place, instead of turning around and leaving. It was going on for ten and past time for him to be winding down if he hoped to be able to work tomorrow. However, after O’Neil had called and thanked him, he knew he couldn’t let the day end without trying to reach out to Niko.
A drizzle greeted them as they stepped out of their separate vehicles. Niko pulled her rain jacket around her neck and headed for her door without acknowledging him. He followed her, waited as she unlocked the door and walked in with her.
“I hope you don’t want much from me,” she said as she greeted Chinook. “Because I don’t have it to give.”
He explained about his conversation with O’Neil. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t told me how you shocked him with pictures of Hope. He isn’t going to focus on the hound after all. Other reporters can do that. Hope and Mist are his story. Also, he’s going to try to make a connection between the two situations.”
She pulled off wet tennis shoes then headed for what he’d determined was her favorite chair. After hanging his coat on a hook next to where she’d placed her jacket, he sat. She’d looked tired before. Now she was approaching exhaustion, which pretty much mirrored how he felt. Despite the weariness weighing on his spine and making his eyelids droop, he didn’t regret coming here. Chinook rested her head on her mistress’s lap.