by John Bushore
“What’s that?”
“What do you know about the park being closed down?”
He jerked his head back, bumping it against the top of the window. “Closed? This park? You’re kidding.”
“It’s only a rumor so far, but I got a lead from a friend in Richmond. She heard I was doing some investigating down here. The governor is looking to trim the budget. False Cape is under-utilized and on his short list of unnecessary expenditures.”
Shadow was dumbstruck. He had come to love False Cape and, if he lost his job, no other place would be able to match the solitude and tranquility here. Most of the other parks in the state had nothing to compare. Accessible by road, they were jammed with cars, tents and mobile homes nearly every weekend. Any ranger stationed in those parks was little more than a glorified parking attendant and canoe-rental clerk. A wildlife encounter was likely to be a drunken camper.
“But...why would he do that? This place is unique in the park system.” He got out of the car and stood.
“I don’t know all the whys and wherefores yet, but I’m working on it. My friend says—and she knows what’s up—she got a whiff of money as it went around the capitol. So now she’s trying to dig up more dirt, and she wields a mean shovel.”
“Say...” Shadow’s mind was churning. “I have noticed the commissioner brings carloads of suit-types in here every once in a while, and a couple of months ago, a team of surveyors was measuring near False Cape dock. At the time, I thought maybe they were going to replace the pier, but now...Have you talked to Alex?”
“Yes. He didn’t know anything about it but that’s not unusual. These things are handled at the state level, yet sometimes word gets around on the grapevine. I mostly wanted to let you know, though, since you’d be personally affected by it.”
“Yeah. I hope it’s not true. I like this job.”
“For your sake, I hope so, too.” She paused. “Look, we somehow got off on the wrong foot or something. Have I said or done something wrong?”
He sighed. “No, but I could lose my job if I told you something and it got back to my boss, you know?”
“Oh. I certainly don’t want you to get fired, but if you do come up with something, remember that I never reveal my sources. Besides, I’ll tell you what I find out, so you don’t have to ‘snoop.’ Deal?”
“Deal.” He offered his hand and she took it, smiling warmly. Her grip was soft but firm, and it seemed to Shadow that her touch lingered for a moment when they let go. Wishful thinking, he told himself, comes from living alone for so long.
“Say, I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said. “I understand you’re some sort of Native American?”
“Yes. I have some Indian in me.” Maybe that was it. He’d met a few women who were intrigued by Native Americans. Like ancient warriors counting coup, some white women seemed to think bedding an ‘Indian’ was some sort of accomplishment.
She smiled broadly. “I did a piece on Virginia Indians a couple of years ago. What tribe are you from?”
“None, really. My grandmother said I’m mostly Accomattoc.”
She frowned in concentration. “That’s not a tribe I’ve ever heard of.”
“Died out. It’s not considered a tribe anymore. Other than my grandmother, I’ve never met anyone else with Accomattoc blood. They were in the Powhatan Confederation, along with the Mattaponi, the Youghtanud and a lot of other tribal names no one can pronounce.”
“Is Shadow an Indian name?”
“Sort of. I don’t use my full name.”
Helen gave him an appraising look. “It’s none of my business, I know, but why not? And how did you end up here, as a park ranger.”
“It’s a long story,” he said.
She relaxed her grip on the bike and let it lean a bit, as though to lay it down. “I’ve got time.”
He found himself grinning. “You know, I don’t think I even know how I ended up here. If I ever figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
She smiled. “I’m a good listener.”
“Uh, look, I need to get going. I’m supposed to check in at the contact station every two hours and I’m overdue. I’ll ask the other guys if they’ve heard anything about shutting down the park.”
Her smile never faltered. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ve got another contact who’s working on a different angle. I’ll let you know what they come up with.” She rubbed her backside. “Well, my ass is sick of this bicycle seat and I’ve got a long ride back to town. See you around, Shadow.”
“Yeah. Take care.”
“Oh, here,” she said, rummaging in a small pouch on her belt. “Here’s my card. Just in case you ever need to get in touch with me.” She handed him the card and pushed off on the bike.
Shadow, looking at her sweat-stained clothing—which clung to her figure rather nicely—briefly thought of offering her a ride back up through the refuge, but it was against policy and he certainly didn’t want to get in any more trouble. He drove away, wondering how long he’d have a job. No use asking Alex about it, apparently.
* * * *
A few days later, driving past the camping meadow at False Cape Landing on a windy Friday morning in mid-June, Shadow saw Morrow’s white government sedan disappear into the tunnel of trees on the other side of the meadow. That path led only to the dock, in fact there was no turn-around space except for a small clearing of tidal grass that could appear to be dry when it was actually treacherous mire. He smiled at the thought of Agent Morrow, stuck in the mud, having to call for his help.
He imagined saying, “Well, if it isn’t Special Agent Morrow. Has the case bogged down, Mr. F.B.I. agent?”
That was rather petty, Shadow realized upon reflection. He decided to follow the car down the trail to warn Morrow of the danger before he tried to turn around to leave. Besides, maybe he’d pick up a little hint as to how the investigation was going.
The sedan was empty when he pulled up behind it, a bit short of the clearing. It was lucky Morrow hadn’t gone farther. Shadow would probably have had to pull it out of the muck. He left the truck and walked around the car, into the meadow. A glance at the dock revealed Agent Walker, short hair tossed about by the breeze, looking across the water. She was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, not the business clothing he had expected. He noticed—besides a fanny pack—she had a holster on her belt, the gun itself showing as a bulge beneath the overhanging shirt.
She didn’t detect him until his footsteps sounded on the dock and then she whirled around, crouching, right hand reaching toward her waist. When she recognized him, though, she straightened and visibly relaxed.
“Hello, Ranger. You surprised me; I didn’t hear a car.”
“The wind is coming off the bay. It muffles sound.” He saw she had a suspicious look.
“What brings you out here today?” she asked. “I hope you’re not looking for any more missing persons.”
“Nobody is missing as far as I know,” he said. “I saw you pull in here—thought it was Morrow, actually—and thought I’d warn you about driving into the clearing to turn around. It’s real easy to get stuck if you don’t have four-wheel drive.”
“Thanks. I probably would have tried it rather than back out on that narrow trail. So this is where you found the Brandon girl?”
“This is the place I spotted her from.” He pointed at the shoreline. “She was there, barely inside the cove.”
“Whoa, you really do have good eyes. I thought I had pretty good distance vision but you are amazing.” She looked around. “Tell me, what kind of bird is that swimming way out there, out past the duck blind?”
“Easy one. That’s a cormorant.”
“I guess you really do have sharp eyes. He’s a good ways off.”
“So how do you know I didn’t make that up? It could be any kind of bird for all you know.”
“I told you; I have good vision too. I knew it was a cormorant before I asked you.”
“And did you notice it’s
missing its left eye, like someone shot it with a pellet gun or something?”
Her eyes widened. She started to speak and then caught herself. A wide grin, a real one, brightened her face. “You almost got me.”
Shadow laughed. “Oh well, it was worth a try. You’re good, though; not many people could have told what that bird was.”
“Is your eyesight because you’re Native American? I saw in your file you’re Appomattox or something, but I’ve never heard of them.”
“You’ve never heard of the mighty warriors of the Accomattoc?” Shadow said with an air of affronted dignity.
One side of her mouth picked up in a wry smile. “Actually, no, I haven’t. My apologies. I’m originally from the Midwest and I don’t know anything about eastern Indians. And I did try to look up something about them, but couldn’t find much.”
Shadow was mildly surprised at her soft smile and pleasant tone of voice now that she wasn’t playing the role of interrogator. “Well, the tribe’s not around anymore,” he said. “Absorbed into the general population, I guess.”
“Sort of sad.”
He shrugged. “I don’t bother to worry about it. What’s done long ago is long ago done.”
“Still, the Native Americans got a shitty deal.”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t so bad after all, Shadow decided. “Where’s your partner?” he asked.
“He’s not my partner; we don’t work that way. We’re both assigned to this case, that’s all. He had some work to do on something else.”
“You’re out of uniform, too. I thought you F.B.I. types always wore suits.”
“I’m blending in.”
“With a gun on your hip? Just one of the tourists, huh? So, have you decided yet whether I’ve killed anybody?” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but not only did he say it, he was surprised at the caustic tone he used. Lorene’s pleasant expression evaporated.
“Look, Ranger, can we start this all over again?” She stuck out her hand. “Like we’ve just met?”
He nodded and shook her hand. “How do you do? I’m Shadow Fletcher.”
“And I’m Lorene,” she said. “I’m sorry, Shadow. I only was doing my job. Morrow and I drew straws to see who’d try to shake you up. The whole idea was to see if there was anything questionable about your pig story, especially since the warden said there were no tracks. I’ve got to admit, it made me wonder at first.”
“The warden wouldn’t know pig sign if it jumped up and bit him on the ass.”
Her smile showed again. “Well, you’re about right, I suspect. He went with us to where you found the body and he’s not exactly Daniel Boone. Don’t ever say I told you this, but you were right when you said he was a paper-pusher. I believe you about the pigs.”
He returned her smile and, hoping he sounded casual, said. “In that case—in return for putting me on the hot seat during the interview—how about answering a question for me?”
“I’ll bet I can guess what it is.” She looked at him appraisingly. “But go ahead.”
“Was that body like the other two? Her neck I mean.”
“I figured that was it.” She sighed, all hints of her smile gone now. “I’ll tell you, but only if you promise the information won’t go any further.”
“Never mind.” Shadow said with a grin.
“You won’t promise not to tell anyone?”
“I don’t have to. You wouldn’t have asked for my promise if her throat hadn’t been attacked.”
Her eyes widened and her smile returned but it was slightly different and Shadow had a feeling the two of them had begun playing a game. Then she laughed. “Okay, you got me. But don’t spread it around, okay?”
“Don’t worry.” He had thought of telling Helen, but now that Lorene had asked for his silence, he knew he wouldn’t. “So we’re still looking for a dog?”
“I don’t think so.” She pushed a wind-blown strand of hair from of her eyes. “Look, I can’t tell you anymore; you found out too much already. We don’t know how the bite marks fit in, but there’s human involvement, that’s for sure.”
“I already figured that. If those first girls were kayaking on the bay—and their kayaks were found floating—then unless it was a Labrador retriever or some such, how would a dog get to them? So they probably died on land. One other thing...”
He saw her hesitate and held up a hand.
“Nothing major. If someone’s throat is ripped out, wouldn’t they suffocate before dying of blood loss?”
Lorene grinned. “We thought of that. There’d have been blood in the lungs. The wounds—at least in the first girl—were post mortem. The other two...,” she shrugged. “They were quite a bit more decomposed, but still no trace of blood in the lungs.
He suddenly remembered the marks he’d seen by the dock. “But if the girls were killed and they and their kayaks pushed into the bay...” He hadn’t mentioned what he’d seen to anyone. Should he tell her?
Lorene looked at him oddly. “Yes?”
Shadow thought about it for a second, then said, “Was the Gordon woman raped?”
“What makes you ask that?” Lorene was obviously taken aback.
“Just a hunch.” He smiled and shrugged. “You’ve got something else. Something that makes you think the deaths might not be connected.”
“Well, yes, we’ve got something but I’m not saying more than that. And now that I’ve answered your questions,” she hesitated, “could I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
She looked down at the claw. “Your file said you lost your hand in the war, but it looks fine.”
He held it up in front of her and opened and closed it a couple of times to show her the fingers didn’t bend, or even move right. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”
“How...?”
“It’s a movie prop, sort of. This guy who used to make monster costumes and stuff fashioned it to look remarkably like the right one.” He held his hands side by side for her inspection.
“Amazing.”
“Yeah.” He dropped his arms. “Any other questions?”
“No.” She smiled. “But I’d like to ask a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Take me out there—to where you found the first girl—and describe exactly what you saw.”
“I can’t do it. The commissioner told me to stay away from anything to do with any of the deaths.”
She frowned. “It’s beyond him now. I’m sure he’ll cooperate. If I get him to okay it, will you do it for me?”
“Sure.”
“And Shadow...”
“Yes.”
“Look, I’m sorry I came on so hard during your interview. We only wanted to see if we could shake your story about the pig. Call me Lorene, please?”
It was his turn to smile. He liked her direct style and was quickly losing his bitterness over the way she’d grilled him. “Okay. As soon as you can get permission from the commissioner, I’ll grab a boat and give you the ten-cent tour.”
“What do you mean ‘as soon as’? Let’s get this show on the road.” She pulled a cell phone from her fanny pack and flipped open the cover. Shadow watched quietly. It wasn’t a simple cell phone, but one of those more sophisticated gadgets he knew nothing about. A Blackberry or iPad or whatever those things were. She entered something on the keys, then rubbed her thumb across the small screen.
“That’s odd,” she said. “I’m not picking up a signal. No internet, no phone, nothing.”
“Cell phones hardly ever work on the cape. Especially in the daytime.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes they work. Other times the evaporation from the ocean and the bay forms a temperature inversion layer in the atmosphere. It blocks electronic signals. Since our radios don’t rely on satellites, it usually doesn’t affect them here in the park, but we can’t use them for long range very well. If you want to call Barnett in Richmond, it’d be best to use the ph
one at the contact station or one of the other buildings.”
“Then let’s get going.”
“No,” he said. “I don’t want to be linked to you until Barnett says it’s okay. I’m still on probation and I can’t afford to piss him off. You go, and have Betty, the secretary, call me on the radio if he approves it.”
Shadow backed out along the dirt road in his big truck with Lorene following him in the sedan, also in reverse. With a wave, he headed south toward Wash Woods to check on a school group occupying the bunkrooms of the E.E.C., near his residence. Groups often rented the center while they studied the relatively pristine beach, dunes, scrub forest and bay ecologies that blended together on the cape.
He was outside the E.E.C. building, talking with a teacher from the group, when Betty called him on the radio and told him to come to the contact station. When he arrived, Lorene awaited him in the hiker’s shelter directly across the lane from the station. Heat waves rose from the gravel road.
“That was quick,” he said from the window of his truck. “What did the Grand Mahoff have to say?”
“He said I could count on you for any assistance I might need, even if it takes you away from your regular duties.”
“Really? I expected him to say no, or have one of the other rangers help you. He was really emphatic about my not becoming involved.”
“He’s decided that the case would best be resolved quickly. ‘Bad for the park’, he says. Scares away the visitors.”
“Well, it’s clear he’s not reading the utilization reports. We’ve had mobs of people, the last few days, some of them pretty weird. Anyway, now I can show you what you like. Hop in and we’ll go down to the dock for a boat.”
Lorene got a bag from her car, first. He opened the door for her, threw a bunch of junk from the passenger seat into the back and stood back as she climbed up into the high cab.
As he pulled away from the station, she looked into the back seat. “Maid’s day off?” she asked.
He shrugged. It was only a half-mile to the dock; she could stand a bit of clutter. Besides, he kept the front seat fairly clean.
At the boathouse, Shadow shoved one of the johnboats into the water, checked the outboard’s gas and oil levels and cranked it into sputtering life. Lorene stepped into the boat and sat down in front. He tossed her a lifejacket and she put it on while he donned his.