Wolfwraith

by John Bushore

  Finally, he started the engine and turned the truck around. Slowly, using only the parking lights, he drove back down the road. He angled to the right, past Jenny’s small cottage, absentmindedly noticing a light on inside. Unusual for her to be up so late, she was a morning person

  Seconds later, he slid to a halt in front of his residence. Opening the truck door, he got out, slamming the door shut behind him. He slammed the house’s door next, as he stalked into the kitchen. Crap! How stupid could one man be?

  Though he couldn’t believe the girls would ever say anything, what if one of the nearby campers reported what had happened to Alex or called the state park office in Richmond, the state capital? Would Barnett have him sacked? No one in the park service knew about the allegations his wife had made during the custody hearings, he was sure. Otherwise, he’d never have gotten this job.

  He showered the smell of insect repellant from his body, and then climbed into bed. Even though he was worried, he couldn’t rid himself of the memory of the musky, female taste of those soft lips against his and a bare female bosom against his chest.

  The variations of human sexuality were beyond his understanding. If Marlene, or Markie, and Billie were lesbian lovers, why had Marlene kissed him? Why had Billie invited him to stay? He’d heard some people went both ways; was that it?

  He fell into troubled dreams. He was kissing and fondling a beautiful woman when she suddenly turned into his daughter, Ashley. “Get your hands off me,” she screamed. “You’re my Daddy!”

  Chapter Twelve

  He’s really dead?

  Shadow blearily peered at the clock. One twenty a.m. Drenched in sweat. Less than two hours sleep. He pulled the stifling sheet off and got up. Shuffling to the window air conditioner, he turned it on and then closed the other window.

  Since it would take a while for the room to cool down, he stepped out onto his small porch, dressed in only his boxers. The temperature was no better outside; there wasn’t much breeze, and mosquitoes began to gather, apparently drawn by his sweat. He retreated inside and got a drink of cold water from the fridge. Although he’d quit smoking several years before, he wished for a cigarette. Finally, he went to the bathroom and rummaged around in the medicine cabinet for a bottle of sleeping pills the marriage counselor had suggested, back during the divorce. When the doctor had given him the medicine, Shadow had meant never to use it but now he needed to relax.

  He’d managed to suppress the memory of his wife’s accusation of fondling his daughter, but his recent experiences had brought sex to the forefront of his mind. Of course he hadn’t touched Ashley inappropriately but why had Ashley said he had? Sure, he’d pick her up and swing her now and then or tickle her for a moment, but she was only twelve and he had never felt anything but a father’s love for her. Why had she betrayed him? Had her mother brainwashed her into it?

  He washed down one of the pills and went back to bed.

  * * * *

  The next thing he knew, someone was shaking him. “Shadow! Wake up, Shadow!”

  He opened his eyes to see Alex bending over him. “Hey, what’s up?” he said groggily. Vaguely, he wondered why Alex hadn’t knocked.

  “Get up! Something horrible has happened.”

  “Wha...? Wait a minute.” Shadow sat up and shook his head. “Sorry. I took—I took something to get to sleep. Give me a moment.”

  “We don’t have a moment, damn it! Listen, did you hear anything in the night? Any fighting or yelling maybe?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Jenny Ostrowski was killed. It looks like Jonesy tried to help her. He’s dead, too.”

  “Jesus Christ! How? What happened?” Shadow shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

  “We’re not sure,” Alex said. “Steve Slocum found them this morning. Jenny was supposed to be at the E.E.C. to meet her tour group at six a.m., but she didn’t show. They called Steve, since he had duty. He found Jenny in her front yard, with her throat ripped out. Jonesy was around the side of her house; maybe he was running to help her and somebody jumped him.”

  “Jumped him? Damn, Alex, Jonesy’s strong as an ox.” He lurched clumsily out of bed and slid the claw onto his wrist.

  “Well, it didn’t do him much good.”

  “You’re sure he’s dead?”

  “He’s dead. And he’s all torn up, like he made a fight of it.”

  As Shadow pulled his uniform on, he could hear a siren in the distance, something he had never heard in the park. In moments, he and Alex were running toward Jenny’s residence, a couple of hundred yards away.

  Mark Wilson and Steve Slocum, both pale in the face, stood in the road by the house, watching their approach. Shadow could see Jenny, in her uniform, lying in the small yard where he had talked to her yesterday evening. She was on her back, a cloud of small insects fluttering around the gaping wound below her chin. A small dark stain soaked the sand beneath her neck. Looking farther up the yard, he saw a pair of men’s shoes poking around the far corner of the house. Jonesy! Shadow started to walk into the yard, but Alex stopped him.

  “Don’t go up there,” he cautioned. “Steve checked and they’re both gone, without a doubt. I don’t want anything disturbed further until the police get here.”

  “Goddamnit, man, Jonesy was my friend. Let me go see him.”

  “No. This is our best chance to nail whoever’s doing this and I don’t want it screwed up, Shadow.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Come over here,” Alex called to Slocum, who walked over to join them. “You two make sure all the campers are okay,” Alex said. “Steve, you take the campsites up by Barbour Hill; Shadow, you take seven through twelve. If everyone’s okay, gather the campers together in the False Cape Meadow and at the contact station. Stay with them until the police can question them. I’ll arrange for them and their gear to be bused out later.”

  They could hear sirens in the distance as Alex turned to Mark Wilson. “Radio the refuge and ask them to post a warden at the head of the interior road—and the beach—so nobody can leave the cape without us knowing.”

  “What about the group in the E.E.C.?” Mark asked.

  “Same thing. You go over and tell them to stay in the building until someone comes for them. Anything else?”

  When no one spoke, he continued. “Okay, people, move! We don’t know if those campers are in danger and there’s no time to waste. Shadow, don’t go back for your vehicle. Take mine. It’s right here.” He tossed Shadow a set of keys.

  In moments, Shadow was roaring up the road behind Steve Slocum’s truck. He felt numb, only able to act because Alex had ordered him to. How could two people he had seen yesterday be dead so suddenly? He almost expected Jonesy to call on the radio and say it had been a joke.

  Maybe if he ate something, it would clear his head. He fished a hard candy from a pocket, ripped it open and bit off the end. It didn’t taste right. The sweetness felt all wrong against the foul taste from the medicine he’d taken. Rolling down the window, he spat the mouthful out and tossed the remainder onto the floorboard.

  It took only a couple of minutes to reach False Cape at high speed, and he slowed long enough to look into the meadow. Only two tents were there now; campsite eleven was empty. Nothing seemed amiss, though.

  Turning right, he eased over the dunes and onto the beach, where several boy-scout leaders and their couple of dozen charges sat about, eating breakfast. He pulled up, got out of the truck, and asked for the leader of the campers in what he hoped was a casual manner. He didn’t want to start a panic. When he found the man in charge, he quietly told him the park had been closed and to have his boys strike their tents and muster at the meadow shelter. He gave no details, but warned the scoutmaster to keep a close eye on the boys.

  Then he drove to the meadow. The kids in campsite ten were making breakfast. He ordered them to pack their gear, ignoring their protests. Then, dreading what was to come, he walked over and hailed the tent containing the
two girls.

  To his surprise, neither of the bleary-eyed girls teased him or even mentioned the previous night’s events. They seemed hung over, matching Shadow’s torpor. All three of them were hesitant, like a couple who has spent the night together for the first time and awakened to a new personal relationship.

  Soon all the campers were gathered at the shelter and Shadow explained there was an emergency in the park, but nothing more. At first, he tried to keep everyone in the immediate vicinity of the shelter, but many of the younger boy scouts chafed at the inactivity. Soon the scoutmaster had senior scouts working with the younger boys on merit badge qualifications. Each group of scouts had an adult escort and was forbidden to leave the meadow. Marlene and Billie asked him how they’d get their kayaks out but otherwise kept to themselves.

  They waited nearly two hours until a Virginia Beach police officer showed up and took over. Shadow drove back to Wash Woods.

  The entire area swarmed with cops of all sorts. He could barely squeeze his truck past all the vehicles parked along the narrow road. A barrier of bright yellow tape had been strung all around Jenny’s place. Her body hadn’t been moved, but a brown blanket now covered her. A few men moved about within the barricade, seemingly searching the ground for small clues, and a photographer walked around taking pictures. Through the trees, Shadow also saw several men checking the Taj Mahal.

  He tried to make his way through the crowd of men and vehicles to the far side of the house, hoping for a glimpse of Jonesy’s body. Christ, who or what could have killed him? He’d been a strong, capable man.

  “Shadow. Hey, Shadow!” He turned to see Lorene Walker approaching at a fast clip.

  “Hello, Lorene. Any idea what happened yet?”

  “It’s way too early to guess. It’ll take days to sort the entire crime scene and get the autopsy reports. Besides, this isn’t my case. They’ve got a state police detective on this one. Not that we won’t work together, of course.”

  “Nothing on the Gordon woman?”

  “No, but I stopped you because the chief ranger said you live next door, practically. They’ll be interviewing you soon, I suppose, and I was wondering if you had heard or noticed anything unusual last night.”

  “Uh-uh. Not a thing.” Not here, at least.

  “When did you go to bed?”

  “Almost midnight, I guess. I made an after-dark patrol of the False Cape meadow, then turned in.”

  “You got back about midnight?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Around then. Why?”

  “The preliminary guesstimate is the murders occurred between ten and eleven last night. So if you got back after that, you must have driven right by the bodies.”

  “Holy shit!”

  “You didn’t see anything?”

  He thought back. “No. I was—uh—preoccupied. And, besides, I drive by here all the time, why look?”

  “She must have been lying in the middle of the yard. How could you have missed her?”

  “I didn’t have the headlights on. I was trying to keep a low profile in case someone might be sneaking around.” He snorted. “I guess I was right, huh?”

  “Did you notice if Jenny’s house lights were on?”

  “On. Definitely on—damn, I should have checked it out, she normally turns in early.”

  She gestured toward the Taj Mahal. “What about the lights in the trailer?”

  “I don’t know! For Christ’s sake, I had no idea something had happened. How the hell would I know park staff were in danger? I was focused on the campers!”

  “Whoa, take it easy.” Her voice was soothing. “I just wanted to know if you’d seen anything.”

  “Okay, I didn’t see anything. Satisfied? Get off my ass, would you?”

  “Look, I’m sorry.” She persisted. “I realize this is a bad time, but we’re still going to have to talk, sooner or later.”

  “I know. Give me some time, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks for what you did give me. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She walked away.

  “Shadow,” Alex called from farther up the road, where he stood talking to a man in a suit—a cop, probably a detective, by the look of him. Shadow sized him up as he walked over.

  The guy was short, dark-haired, about five-six with a narrow waist and broad shoulders. Christ, Shadow thought. Another one who looks like he eats only salads and fruit. Didn’t anyone else ever pig out on candy bars, ice cream or a big, fatty ham with potato salad? The man’s close-cut hair, pencil mustache and wire-rimmed glasses gave him the look of an accountant, but he didn’t have the pallor of an office worker. There was a barely noticeable bulge beneath his arm, under his coat.

  “This is Detective Ronald Ericsson of the state police,” Alex said when Shadow reached the two men. “Lieutenant, this is Ranger Shadow Fletcher.”

  They shook hands.

  “Hello, Fletcher,” Ericsson said. “I understand you live next door.”

  “Yeah. The house over by the bay.”

  The detective took out a pen and notebook. “Could you spell your name for me?”

  “Shadow. S-H-A-D-O-W. That’s the first name. Do you want me to spell Fletcher?”

  “Shadow. What sort of name is that?”

  “The one people call me by.” Shadow was not in the mood for explaining himself.

  Ericsson glared. “So you were on patrol, checking campers, between nine thirty and midnight?”

  “Nearly midnight, yeah.”

  “Did anyone see you during that time?” asked Ericsson. “Anyone who could verify you being in another location?”

  Christ, Shadow thought. The guy is asking me if I have an alibi. I’m a suspect!

  “I ordered him to make a patrol of the park last night, Lieutenant.” Alex broke in, giving Shadow a few seconds to think.

  What was his situation? He’d found the first body and the Gordon woman, too. Nobody believed him about the pig. Now two people had been killed right outside his house, and if his guess was right, Amanda Gordon had been raped. So, it looked like sex might be a motive and his only alibi for the time of the latest murders was that he had been sneaking around a tent where two women were making love. If those girls said what had happened, he’d appear to be a pervert and it probably wouldn’t clear him anyway.

  The detective ignored Alex’s defense of Shadow. “What about it, Ranger? Did anyone see you while you were on patrol?”

  “Well...yes, the campers at site twelve. Two young ladies.”

  “And when was that?”

  “About eleven, I guess. I wasn’t wearing my watch because it glows in the dark.”

  Ericsson gave him a funny look, but didn’t comment. He wrote something in his notebook.

  “Okay. No more questions. One more thing, though. Would you mind if we take a look inside your residence?”

  Shadow was stunned. What should he do now? If he refused, the detective might think he was hiding something, but he learned, during his brief course in law enforcement, never to let someone search your belongings without a warrant. A search could never clear a suspect, and many innocent things could look damaging.

  “Uh, are you saying I’m a suspect?” he finally asked.

  “No, you’re not. We’re searching all the other buildings here, though, and I like to be thorough. Do you keep your doors locked?”

  “No. Nobody in the park does.”

  “As I thought. Look, whoever did this might have gone in your place, too. How about letting us take a look?”

  “No. Not without a warrant.”

  The detective paused. “It’s your call. I don’t have a reason to seek a warrant.”

  Somehow, Shadow felt Ericsson had left a word off the end of the sentence.

  “Yet.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Any idea what happened?

  The rest of the day went by in a blur. Shadow felt stupefied by the sleeping pill he had taken the night before and the shock of Jonesy and Jenny’s deaths. He knew he s
hould worry about what would happen when they investigated his past, but his mind couldn’t focus enough to think ahead.

  Eventually, however, he began to worry the detective would learn he had been accused of fondling his daughter. If that came out, they would believe him capable of sex crimes, if not murder.

  He and the other rangers kept busy shuttling park visitors to the contact station, where they were identified and added to a list of people present in the park when the murders occurred. Most left on buses immediately, but others were kept behind for further questioning by Detective Ericsson or his assistants.

  Shadow noticed the two girls, Marlene and Billie, among those waiting near the contact station. Since he figured they would be asked about his alibi, he considered approaching them to ask that they not mention the exact circumstances of how and why he approached their tent, but there was no chance to talk to them privately. The four teenagers from site ten, the Goths, were also waiting.

  After they’d taken care of moving the people, Alex sent Shadow and the other rangers to truck kayaks, bicycles and other gear out to the refuge headquarters’ parking lot. When Shadow got back, the last vanload of park visitors was leaving.

  He finished work a bit after nine and drove home down the interior road. As he approached the turn to his cottage, he slowed down because of several police officers moving around on the road. The investigation was continuing by flashlight and a generator-powered spotlight on a trailer.

  When he finally entered his house, he didn’t even bother to turn on a light. He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and slumped down in a kitchen chair.

  * * * *

  It was quiet in the house when he awoke. He had been awakened by his bladder complaining of insistent pressure due to the several beers he had consumed before falling asleep at the table. His arms were numb from cradling his head. Bleary-eyed, he stumbled to the bathroom, switched on the light and fumbled with claw and fingers to open his fly.

  It was only as his stream splattered into the bowl that he remembered what had happened. Somehow, the brief sleep had cleared his head enough to recognize emotions again. Grief for the two murder victims, especially Jonesy, overwhelmed him. Jonesy had seemed as permanent a part of the park to him as the sea. Yet, now Shadow realized life was as capricious as the dunes. They seemed to be such massive accumulations of sand that nothing could move them, but they were actually at the mercy of any nor’easter or hurricane coming through.