Wolfwraith

by John Bushore

  “Let’s talk about what led you to discover the body of the first girl, the kayaker,” she said. “You stated you saw a hand sticking from of the water at a distance of, what would you say, a half of a mile?”

  He nodded, thinking she’d be very attractive if she didn’t act like she ate rattlesnakes for breakfast.

  “Would you please answer verbally, Mr. Fletcher?” she said.

  “Sounds about right. A half-mile. Maybe a bit more.” Shadow wanted to get a jellybean from his pocket, but decided not to.

  “And this was on a foggy day, with limited visibility, in early-morning light?”

  “It wasn’t foggy, just misty,” he explained. “It’s that way most mornings around Back Bay. It was clear on the cove, though.”

  “You must have extraordinary eyesight, Ranger. You saw and recognized a human arm, barely out of the water in low visibility conditions, when your supervisor...” She pulled the file over from in front of Morrow and looked into it. “Park Manager, Alex McGuire, stated he could not clearly identify the object when using a pair of binoculars.”

  “I do have good eyesight. You can check my military records.”

  “Perhaps, but how is it you knew exactly where to look? You found the body within minutes of beginning your search.”

  “It was the obvious place to look. If the girls left by kayak, they would have used the dock.”

  She changed the subject. “There’s something else. Why did you believe the girl was murdered, based solely on a superficial examination?”

  “I never heard of any animal, at least not around here, that goes around savaging people’s throats.”

  “Most murder victims are not killed in that manner either.” She glared at him. “They get shot or strangled or stabbed or run over. I don’t think you could base any conclusion on such evidence.”

  Shadow decided not to tell this nice-looking ball-buster he suspected it was something other than a human being who had murdered the girls and he omitted any mention of the evil aura he had felt from the first body. He found himself hoping Alex had not brought it up either.

  “I guess it was more of a feeling than a conclusion. I didn’t analyze it; it just seemed that way.” Shadow also decided not to bring up the marks in the mud he had noticed under False Cape dock. He had no real basis for connecting those marks to the case. Besides, if he mentioned them at this late date, they might think he was covering something up.

  “But the coroner determined the marks on the wound were consistent with the teeth of a canine.”

  “And then the second girl ended up having the same type of injury,” Shadow reminded her. “We don’t have wolves or coyotes in the park and no one will convince me a fox did that.”

  “What about a feral dog?” she countered.

  “I thought of a dog, but it would have had to swim into the bay and pull two girls out of separate kayaks. Unless, of course, he killed them on shore and then dragged the kayaks and the girls into the bay. Impossible. Anyway, there are no wild dogs around the park that I ever heard of.”

  “I’m not talking about a dog, or animal, killing the girls. The coroner established the bite wounds did not cause death. Apparently, the dog or whatever found the bodies and mutilated them.”

  “Animals don’t act that way. They certainly might feed on human remains, but not mark it and leave it.”

  “But it is possible, isn’t it?”

  “Two girls with exactly the same wound? You’d have to allow for a hell of a lot of coincidence. And how about this latest girl—the one I just found—was she killed the same way?”

  The two agents looked at each other and then Walker turned back to Shadow. “That’s still under investigation,” she said. “Let’s get back to the two kayakers. Why are you so sure those girls didn’t die accidentally?”

  “Only a hunch, I told you. It bothered me.”

  “So we’re back to that.” She sighed. “Do you always act on hunches?”

  Shadow squirmed, wishing for a chocolate bar. “No, not really. Actually, I’ve never been involved in anything like this before. I couldn’t believe those two girls died in a kayaking accident, though.”

  “And was it a hunch that led you to the body you found on the wildlife refuge?” she asked. “Oh, no, that’s right. You were led there by a pair of little piggies, one of which was carrying the woman’s hand.” She sneered. “Your ability to find bodies seems almost mystical.”

  Shadow came part way up out of his chair. “Hold on a moment,” he protested. “You can’t—”

  “Yes, hold up, Lorene.” Morrow jumped in. “Ranger Fletcher is here as a courtesy, to bring us up to speed. He’s on our side, remember?”

  “I’m sorry.” Walker apologized, obviously without contrition. “It’s merely that I’m finding it a bit hard to swallow the tale that a pig led him to the Gordon woman.”

  “The pigs didn’t lead me.” Shadow corrected her. “I followed the tracks back to the body.” He’d about had it with this bitch.

  “Then why didn’t the Chief Warden, Moorcock, see any pig tracks? He was following your trail, looking down at the ground. Wouldn’t he have seen any animal tracks you were following?”

  “Not if he didn’t know what he was looking for.” He felt his fists clinch beneath the table. “A running animal doesn’t leave much of a print, even in soft sand. Certainly not a clear impression anyway. Also, a strong wind fills them in fast. That’s the main reason I had to follow the trail right away. The signs were there; Moorcock just didn’t notice them.”

  “Mr. Moorcock is a Federal Game Warden. I’m sure he’s familiar with animal tracks.”

  “No, not everyone who works with wildlife is Ranger Roy, the outdoors expert. Moorcock works with statistics and graphs, budgets and allocations. He got to his position by administrative experience, not familiarity with nature.”

  “You’ve only been with the park service for a few months. How is it you’re such an expert on animal tracks all of a sudden?”

  “I grew up hunting with my grandfather back in the days before computers, satellite TV and video games. I grew up close to nature; that’s partly why I took the ranger job. Tracking animals in the woods is not very different from sand—a lot harder, actually—and I’ve been paying attention to the animal signs in the park since I first got there.”

  “Oh, yes, even though you’re the rookie, you know wildlife better than your superiors.” She raised her eyes skyward.

  “I didn’t say that,” Shadow said. “But Moorcock doesn’t know tracking. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but he probably couldn’t follow a deer through a wheat field.”

  “So you’re sticking with the pig story. Even though you’re the only one to see the pigs or their tracks.”

  “It’s what happened.”

  Walker expelled her breath in an exasperated sigh and looked at Morrow. “I see no reason to continue this interview,” she said. “I don’t feel Ranger Fletcher is being forthcoming with all he knows, but that’s his prerogative.” She reached behind her and turned off the wall switch.

  “Lighten up, Lorene. You’re hardly giving him a chance to explain himself. I talked to him before you got here. He really is familiar with the outdoors, grew up hunting and trapping up north.”

  “You talk to him then. I have some other leads I’d like to follow up.” She slid the pad of paper over in front of Morrow, then stood and walked around the table toward the door.

  “Good day, Ranger,” she said as she passed by Shadow. She gave him that quick, flat smile. No expression showed on her face, although he thought there might be an unexpected sparkle in her eyes. Why? Did she enjoy ball busting?

  Now that the two men were alone in the room, Morrow leaned back in his chair, put his arms behind his head and stretched.

  “Whew, now you know why I tease her about her name being Water Walker. Once she gets on a case, she has to be perfect. She doesn’t let up for a minute. Sorry you were on the receiv
ing end, Hubert.”

  “I go by Shadow, remember?”

  “Shadow. Of course. Sorry.”

  The forced familiarity in the agent’s tone gave the game away. They’d been pretty good at it, up to now. What a fool Shadow had been! They were playing a game of Good Cop-Bad Cop. That was the reason Morrow had invited him for coffee and a friendly chat before the session. Walker had probably been in the building the entire time, and it explained the glint in her eyes; she’d been amused because she was putting him on.

  “That’s okay, Dave,” he said, matching the agent’s tone of familiarity. “I can see where she’s coming from. It’s pretty hard to believe, I suppose, that I happened to be in the right place to find those two bodies so easily.”

  He knew they didn’t believe him as far as the pigs went. Maybe they even considered him a suspect—and he had been so free and easy with Morrow. Even though they had not discussed the Gordon case, Morrow had surely learned a lot about Shadow’s character and the way he thought.

  “I’ve been thinking, Shadow—about the pigs that is. I was wondering if you hadn’t come up with your story to get the warden off your back. My theory is you might have smelled the remains, since you told me your sense of smell is nearly as acute as your vision. Once the arm was uncovered, the wind might have brought the scent to you.”

  Shadow slipped a jellybean into his mouth. “Have I mentioned my grandmother to you?”

  “Well, yes, you said she was a bit eccentric.” The agent’s expression was puzzled.

  “My grandmother was...well I guess you’d call her a shaman, a holy woman.” He was exaggerating; Min had dabbled in mysticism, astrology, UFO’s, anything on the fringes, but Morrow wouldn’t know that. “She knew how to read portents, figure out why a woman couldn’t conceive or in what hole of the river the fish were hiding during winter. She taught me a lot about the world, made me one with the animals and the river creatures. I learned a lot from her. Sometimes I feel a bit of otherworldly mystery myself.”

  Shadow suddenly became aware he was telling the truth. He’d been feeling the invisible currents of the world more strongly than ever since finding the first body, but he’d been trying to ignore it. He may have left home more than half his life ago, but he remained Min’s grandson.

  He looked the F.B.I. man in the eye and continued. “To be honest, I didn’t tell the whole story about the pigs. I was afraid no one would believe me if I told the truth.”

  Shadow leaned forward conspiratorially and spoke softly as though imparting a secret that would unravel the mysteries of the universe.

  “You see, Dave.” He put the overly friendly inflection in his voice again. “I have magical powers. I talk to the animals and the animals talk to me. I met the pig on the beach and, after we chatted for a while about the weather, he told me of the body of a human in the dunes and gave me directions to find it. He even drew me a map.”

  As he rose from his chair, he saw Morrow’s expression change to anger as the F.B.I agent realized he was putting him on. Shadow slammed the door behind him as he left.

  It was only on the drive back to the park that he began to regret his wisecrack.

  Chapter Eight

  Was her throat torn, too?

  Shadow stopped to do some shopping on his way back, and then went directly to his house upon reaching the park. He was putting groceries away when he heard a truck pull up outside. Glancing out a window, he saw Alex walking toward the front porch, so he went and swung open the front door.

  “Hey, Alex. Come on in.”

  Alex walked in carrying a folded newspaper. “Hi, Shadow. How’d the thing with the F.B.I. go?”

  “Great. Just peachy. Come on in the kitchen, I’m putting stuff away. Want a coke or something?”

  “No thanks,” Alex answered as he followed Shadow to the other room. “So what’s the verdict?”

  Shadow opened the freezer door and began pulling ice cream and other frozen goods from bags. “I thought about it on the way back. From what I can gather, I think they suspect I killed that girl and was revisiting the burial site. You know, like the killer always goes back to the scene of the crime. Maybe they thought I was making sure she was still buried, I don’t know. The refuge warden said there were no pig tracks—thanks a lot, Warden Can’t-find-your-ass-with-both-hands Moorcock!”

  Alex laughed. “You’ve got that right! Don’t worry, though, I’m sure they’re only covering all the bases.”

  Shadow snorted. “My ass. There was a woman F.B.I. agent who damn near said I was lying.” He closed the freezer and started stuffing things into cabinets.

  “You’re not going to be happy with how the commissioner is taking this either,” Alex said. “He said you were ‘meddling’ again.”

  Shadow spun around. Barnett! Crap, he’d forgotten about that, with the F.B.I. thing. “What was I supposed to...? I mean, when I saw the hand, I had to follow it up. Didn’t I?”

  “Not according to Barnett. I managed to calm him down, though, by pointing out you were performing your normal duties when a strange situation came up. He’s still upset about the bad publicity the park is getting, but...” Alex shrugged. “He’s off your case for now.”

  “What publicity? Why? The body was in the refuge!”

  “And that may be the only thing keeping Barnett from taking off your head. You remember that reporter, Helen Parsons?”

  Shadow nodded.

  Alex unfolded his newspaper and held it up. Halfway down the page, Shadow saw a headline: ‘Body of Beach Woman Found Buried in Wildlife Refuge.’

  “Okay, yeah,” Shadow said. “At least it says ‘wildlife refuge’—not ‘state park.’”

  Alex twisted his lips in a wry grin. “She took this latest, uh, incident and put it together with the two kayakers who died.” He handed over the paper.

  Shadow spread it out on the counter. Unconsciously, he ripped open a candy bar and nibbled on it as he began to read. The Virginian Pilot had taken the Amanda Gordon story and made it sound like the Frankenstein monster had been shocked back to life for one more go-round and was running around the Back Bay area like a psychotic Energizer Bunny, looking for women to kill. Helen Parson’s name was on the byline.

  The article didn’t mention Shadow; it said local authorities had discovered the body. Without many details, the paper played up the “foul play suspected angle.” False Cape State Park was mentioned only peripherally as the site where two girls had recently died in a kayaking accident, “ ...with mysterious, unexplained wounds.”

  Shadow whistled. “Barnett must have thrown a shit-fit when he read this.”

  Alex grinned. “That’s a perfect description of his reaction.”

  “It doesn’t say anything about how this latest girl died,” Shadow said. “Was her throat torn, too?”

  “I have no idea,” Alex answered. “The F.B.I. is keeping a tight lid on the details.”

  “But I need to know...”

  “Uh-uh!” Alex interrupted. “You stay clear of it—Barnett, remember?”

  “Of course, Bossman. I just wondered if this Helen Parsons knows more than we do, or if she’s only guessing when she links these deaths together.”

  Alex shook his head. “Shadow, Shadow, Shadow, what am I going to do with you? We’re not detectives, and that reporter is just sensationalizing it to sell papers. If she had more, she’d have put it in the story.” He turned to leave. “Anyway, it’s the F.B.I.’s problem now. Let’s get back to work.”

  Over the next several days, Shadow continued his normal duties, although things were hardly normal. There were more cops in the park than tourists or campers, who were apparently frightened away by the continuing newspaper coverage. Shadow kept abreast of the articles, but there was little in the way of information except that the Gordon case was labeled a definite homicide.

  Twice during his trips through the wildlife refuge, he saw Agents Morrow and Walker riding around in a white sedan with federal plates. Another time
, he saw the car sitting in one of the three gravel spaces in front of the False Cape Contact Station. He assumed the agents were inside talking to Alex, as the chief ranger’s four-wheel-drive pick-up was also present.

  One cloudy but sweltering afternoon when the sky hung over the park like a wet, gray blanket, he came upon Helen Parsons bicycling through the park. She stopped, put one foot down, and then waved for him to stop, her shirt dark with sweat. He considered driving by but then felt sorry for her; not many women—or men either—would go to such extreme physical effort to get a story. Besides, they were in the middle of nowhere; Barnett would never know and Helen Parsons might know something important. Not that I’ll start snooping again, he quickly told himself. He pulled up beside her and leaned out the window.

  “Hello, Shadow,” she said. She smiled and wiped sweat from her forehead. Her face was growing red from the sun.

  “Hello, yourself. What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

  “As if you can’t guess. I know you found the Gordon woman. Look, I’d really like to ask you a few questions.”

  “I’m sorry.” Shadow shook his head from side to side. “I’d like to help you but I really don’t know a lot about it. It’s being investigated by the F.B.I. since she was found on federal land.”

  “I know, but I was hoping you might be able to tell me if her throat was injured, since you found her.”

  “All I saw was her arm,” he said. “The rest of her was under the sand and nobody’s told me anything since. I thought you’d know, to tell the truth.”

  “Damn,” she said. “I was hoping...I’ve got a few contacts with the local police but they either don’t know or won’t tell me.”

  Shadow decided to come clean. “Look, I’m sorry; I’d tell you if I knew but even if I did, Commissioner Barnett has ordered me to stay completely away from the investigation. I was doing a little snooping around when this latest girl disappeared and he didn’t like it.”

  She smiled. “Barnett, huh? That figures. I remember him from that pig-shooting incident a while back. He’s a total jerk, which brings up another thing I want to ask you.”