by John Bushore
As they eased onto the bay, he pointed out a nest built atop a tall man-made platform. A pair of fledgling birds looked down at them from the jumble of branches while their parents soared overhead, warning the humans not to venture too close.
“Osprey,” he said. “They were becoming endangered a few years ago. Now, we’ve got several nesting pairs in the park, there’s even a pair of bald eagles nesting in a tall tree on the wildlife refuge. It shows the tougher ecological laws are helping and a lot of wildlife is coming back. Deer and Canada geese are even becoming a problem in some parts of the state.”
“So I’ve heard. I read a newspaper article a couple of years ago that they had released wolves into the wild in North Carolina. It sort of makes me wonder if one of them could have come this far north.”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “There’ve been no sightings and one of the rangers would have noticed if there were tracks or signs. Wolves run differently from dogs, if you know what to look for in their tracks.
“Are you kidding? Is this like the cormorant with the missing eye?”
“No. There’s a difference in their gait. You can’t tell from a single footprint, but you can tell if there’s a clear series of tracks.”
They entered the cove, and Shadow stayed close to the shoreline on their left.
“It was right about here,” he said. “There. That’s the stick her sleeve snagged on.”
There was nothing other than the branch to distinguish this spot from any other along the bay. Lorene checked the area with a brief look and then turned to Shadow.
“Describe exactly how you found her and how you retrieved the body, would you?”
When he had finished, she spoke again.
“Did anything strike you odd? Other than the throat wound, that is.”
Shadow hesitated. “Well...only a feeling.”
“What kind of feeling?”
“I felt like something evil had been here. A spirit, almost like what I would feel when my grandmother called on them for something.”
Lorene’s eyebrows went up. “A spirit? And what does your grandmother have to do with it?”
“Her name was Min-ne-ha-ha, but I don’t tell most people because they think it’s a joke...”
“Isn’t that from the poem, Hiawatha?” Lorene asked. “I remember it from school.”
“Longfellow ripped off real Indian words and names, so now they’re clichés—anyway, Min still believed she was in tune with the old spirits, even though she went to Baptist church to please my grandfather. She’d still ask for good hunting or fishing, chant for rain or good crops—even though all she had was a small truck garden. And I would sometimes get a strange feeling when she did.”
She narrowed her eyes in thought. “Well, I’ve never been much on of a mystical person, although I’ve seen a few things I can’t account for. But—as far as when you found the first body—can you nail it down any tighter than that? Are you saying some kind of ghost did this?”
“No, I’m not saying that. I just felt something, well, different; I have no idea if it came from a human being. Although I found something later to make me wonder if it could have been a flesh-and-blood man.”
He told her of the marks in the mud bottom of the bay and his suspicion they might have been made by a murderer.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone about it when you first found it? Or when Morrow and I interviewed you?”
“No one really thought the first girl had been murdered—no one but me. Everyone said I was way off base. Besides, the girls could have made those marks when they launched their kayaks.”
“Way to go, Sherlock.” Her voice held reproach, but her eyes sparkled with what he hoped was amusement.
“Look, what was I supposed to do? Rain pretty much washed them away and I’d already been told to keep my suspicions to myself.”
“Why would anyone tell you that?”
“Barnett said he didn’t want any bad publicity for the park. But now I’ve heard a rumor they might close the park, so that doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Hmmm. I want to see where you found the marks,” she said. “To the dock, cabbie.”
“You don’t think it’s weird I put so much stock in a feeling?” he asked on the way to the pier.
“Nope. I don’t have any psychic ability, but I’ve known plenty who say they do. Some people tune in to the spiritual side. Me, I tend to stick to what I can see and hear.”
Shadow ran the boat to the same pier where they had met earlier. They climbed up to the board platform and he led her to the shoreward end.
He pointed. “Down there.”
The marks in the mud were long gone, of course. Shadow was describing them as best he could remember when a young man and woman emerged from the track leading back to the clearing. The couple was obviously startled by the presence of the ranger. The man began to retreat, pulling his companion back with him.
“Excuse me,” Shadow called. “I need to talk to you, sir.”
He stepped down from the dock and walked over to the couple, looking them over carefully as he approached. The young blonde woman was clad in skin-tight jeans and an even tighter halter beneath a black leather vest. She sported a ring through her pierced eyebrow and garish make-up that would have been more likely in a sleazy bar than in a state park, but Shadow was more interested in the man, little more than a boy really. He was wearing leather pants, a white tee shirt covered by an old, long-tailed black suit coat and he had on a pair of ridiculous looking platform boots that added six inches to his height. His dark, spiked hair was streaked with blue dye and his chin had a sparse goatee, set off by a pin through his lower lip. Acne covered his face and both of his ears had small rings running up and down the edges. His bleary, bloodshot eyes were patriotic—red, white and blue. Shadow, though, was more concerned with what had originally caught his attention.
He pointed toward the automatic pistol at the boy’s waist. “Firearms aren’t allowed in the park. You’ll have to give me that weapon.”
“What for? I ain’t used it or shit like that.”
“It’s a violation of state law to bring a weapon onto a state park except for licensed hunters during hunting season.”
“No big deal, okay? I’ll just leave your stupid, fucking park.”
“Yeah,” the girl said. “It’s fucking boring as shit here, anyway.”
Shadow ignored her. “This is your last chance to do this peacefully, son. Give me the gun.” He put his hand on the butt of his own pistol.
“I’m not your son and I told you I’m leaving. Don’t blow a gasket, dude.”
Drawing his sidearm, Shadow pulled the slide back with the claw to put a round in the chamber, and leveled it. “I’m placing you under arrest. Turn around and put your hands behind your neck.”
“Bullshit. You ain’t no cop.”
Shadow was incredulous. Was this kid really so stupid he would ignore a pistol pointed at his chest?
“The hell he’s not.” Lorene’s voice came from behind Shadow’s left shoulder. “Do what he says.”
The kid looked over at Lorene. “What are you? A narc?” He sneered, but he was turning around as he raised his arms. “Okay. Okay. Don’t make such a big deal out of this, okay?”
Shadow reached over and pulled the young man’s gun free.
The girl took a step forward. “Leave him alone, you fucking asshole!”
Shadow didn’t bother to look at her. “You keep swearing at me, young lady, and I’ll arrest you too.” He wished he could threaten—or do—worse to her.
He glanced back at Lorene as he holstered his gun and checked the boy’s cheap pistol. She stood five paces away with her weapon pointing at the kid.
The girl began whining about their rights, but he ignored her, except for noting she’d stepped up her cursing. Releasing the gun’s clip, he unloaded it, then pulled the slide back to see a cartridge fly from the chamber. He shook his head in awe at the young m
an’s lack of common sense—it would have served the dumbshit right if he’d blown off his pecker. He stooped and picked up the bullet, putting it in his pocket with the clip.
He turned and looked at Lorene. “I guess I’d better radio the contact station,” he said. “We can’t take him back in the boat.”
“Better frisk him first,” Lorene said.
”What for? I’ve got his gun.”
“Jeez, I thought... He might have more weapons for Christ’s sake. Don’t they teach police procedures to rangers? Go by the book.”
Damn. She was right, of course. He’d had a couple of week’s police training when first hired, but that seemed so long ago. The park had always seemed like another world to him, a peaceful island in a sea of worldly troubles.
He turned the kid around, pulled handcuffs from his belt and fastened them to the subject’s skinny wrists. Shadow had never had to use the cuffs before, but now was glad to have them.
He frisked the young man, who protested the entire time. Shadow felt an elongated object in one pocket and reached in. His hand emerged holding a glass pipe with a charred bowl and a clear bag with some brown bits of a leafy substance. One sniff confirmed it was marijuana. Opening the kid’s wallet, he learned the boy lived in Chesapeake, a nearby town.
“This you?” he asked. “Dave Macon?”
“Who the fuck’s license do you think I’d be carrying?”
Shadow finished his search, feeling sorry for the kid’s parents. Then he stepped away. Now the kid and his girlfriend were going on about ‘illegal search and seizure.’ Shadow unclipped his belt radio, which he always used when away from his truck, and called the contact station. He made sure to use proper radio procedures when Alex came on; he had embarrassed himself enough in front of Lorene. Alex agreed to meet him in the False Cape meadow to take the pair into custody. Although the girl wasn’t under arrest, she would be escorted from the park.
Once the boy was securely shackled, Lorene patted the girl down—ignoring the inevitable protests—and put her pistol back inside the compartment on her belt.
“What now?” she asked.
“We’ll walk them back to the meadow. It’ll only take Alex a few minutes to get here and we’ll have to pack up their gear, if they have any.” He turned to the boy. “You are camping here, aren’t you?” He guessed they were since neither wore a backpack or any hiking gear.
“Yeah, but we just got here. We ain’t even set up our tent yet.”
As Shadow and Lorene escorted them to the campground, the couple seemed to resign themselves to the situation and stopped complaining. It occurred to Shadow that being arrested was no big deal to kids like this.
“You don’t look to be the camping type,” he said.
“We’re not,” the girl, Whitney, answered. “We’re just here for the kicks, dude.”
“Kicks?”
“Yeah, Whitney gets off on danger,” Dave replied. “We saw in the paper about the killings and Whitney wanted to come down here. Makes her hot thinking there might be some pervert out in the woods lusting for her body—but I’m putting my money on a werewolf.”
“A werewolf!” Shadow said, noticing a small snicker from Lorene. “Where’d you come up with that?”
“The newspaper, dude. Said the first girls had their throats bit out and I looked back at the calendar and saw there was a full moon that week, same as when the latest girl died. Adds up to werewolf to me.”
Shadow had no idea if the kid was right about the moon, but it didn’t really matter. The idea was ludicrous.
The handcuffed boy continued. “Shit, if we really came up on some wolfman, I’d waste him, dude.”
“In that case, you fucked up, dude,” Shadow said.
“How’s that?”
“I think you’re supposed to have silver bullets in your gun.”
Chapter Nine
What sort of dumbshit would believe in werewolves?
Shadow mentally kicked himself in the ass during the solitary boat ride back to the Barbour Hill dock. He wished there were some way to tell Lorene that he had been so inept because everything had happened so unexpectedly. There hadn’t been time for him to shift out of months of being the friendly ranger and into the role of a professional law officer. Besides, this had been his first arrest ever. He knew he had no excuse and explanations would only make it worse.
Alex had brought Mark along to take the two young people into custody, and Lorene had decided to ride back to the contact station with them, disappointing Shadow. He’d begun to hope she would come to think of him as a sort of liaison between agencies, maybe even include him in some of the investigation. Instead, she’d left saying, “Thanks, Shadow. I’ll let you know if I need your help again in the future.”
Reflecting on his performance in the whole affair, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He had stuck his nose into an investigation that was none of his business, disturbed a crime scene outside of his jurisdiction, and handled an arrest with less than professionalism. Oh, well, if they were going to close the park, what did it matter anyway?
He tied the johnboat to the dock at Barbour Hill and drove the half mile to the contact station. There was a unisex pit toilet behind the visitor kiosk and he needed to use it. Accustomed to the privy, Shadow didn’t even notice the strong smell as he thought about what it would mean to him if the park closed. Sure, he could transfer to another park, or get another job entirely, but he liked it here.
After relieving himself, he went up the steps to the contact station and was nearly bowled over as Jonesy slammed out onto the porch.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” he asked. He regretted his flippant tone when he saw the anger on the volunteer’s face.
“Come on, let’s take a walk.” Jonesy said, with a snarl. ”There’s something I have to tell you and I need to cool off.”
Shadow followed Jonesy down the steps and across the yard, where they turned left, toward the ocean. Walking silently alongside his friend, he wondered what could have happened to make such a carefree person this angry. He didn’t have long to wonder.
“You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve been fired.” Jonesy spat out the words.
Shadow missed a step. “They can’t fire you! You’re a volunteer.”
“Tell them that. Alex got the word from Richmond. At the end of June, I’m history.”
“Why would they do that? You don’t cost the state a dime! You and the other volunteers free the rangers of a lot of chores. Not to mention the volunteer committee puts on all kinds of fundraisers to buy new equipment for the park. It makes no sense.”
“They say the Taj Mahal is deteriorating—needs to be condemned—and they don’t want to put any money in it. I can still help in the park, Alex said, but I have to hike or bike in and out every day.” Jonesy snorted. “They say they won’t let volunteers use park vehicles anymore, either. Insurance reasons. They’re canceling the tram service, too.” He paused and pointed. “Oh, boy, look what’s coming.”
A group of about ten teenagers approached from the opposite direction. Jonesy and Shadow stopped talking as they passed. The kids looked like a bunch of cult-movie vampires, wearing black clothes, platform boots—both boys and girls—and hair colored several different hues. The two men greeted the youngsters and were answered by bored gestures and replies.
“I saw them come in on the tram this morning,” Shadow said after they had gone by. “They’d better hurry or they’ll miss their ride.”
“Why are we getting so many weirdoes all of a sudden? I overheard one saying there might be werewolves in the park,” Jonesy said sarcastically. “What sort of dumbshit would believe in werewolves?” He looked back at the kids walking the other way. “Oh, yeah. That bunch of dumbshits. Well, it’d be funny if they had to walk out in those boots and warm outfits.”
They walked in silence for a few moments before Shadow said, “That reporter—you know, Helen Parsons—says the park service might close
False Cape. If they’re canceling the tram and getting rid of you, do you think it might be true?”
“You figure it out; I don’t know and I don’t give a rat’s ass. I don’t cost anything and all I wanted to do was offer my services to a good cause, now that I’m retired. They won’t even let me do that.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What can I do? Even if the park stays open, I’m not up to biking five miles in, pedaling around all day in the park and then doing five miles back. Why bother? They’ve made it quite clear my services are not wanted.”
“Are you going to hang around until July? Or tell them where to stick it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take an Alaskan cruise. I’ll have to think about it. Look, you go on back to the station and let me walk this off. Thanks for letting me get things off my chest.”
They separated and Shadow walked back to the contact station alone, glum at the thought of losing his friend and neighbor. He wondered if he should start looking for another job.
Chapter Ten
The ones who were, like, murdered, y’know?
On the way back to the station, sweating and occasionally slapping away some of the first biting flies of the season, Shadow wondered if the park’s existence was really in jeopardy.
Several weeks ago, he had overheard Alex and Mark discussing the under utilization at False Cape, and how the park service was concerned about it. Tourist traffic had dwindled over the years as people had become used to ‘roughing it’ in SUV’s and motor homes. Most wouldn’t bother biking for many miles to see a park. Some parks with motor home campgrounds actually made money for the park service, but False Cape was a drain on the state’s coffers. At the time, Alex had only been worried about a cut in staff, not being shut down. The twelve campsites were still usually booked all summer; there would always be hardcore campers who enjoyed roughing it and the boy scouts continually arranged outings here.