"Yes. It's time for the Summer Solstice. The tributes must be made," Darlene said.
"But something went wrong," Jamison guessed.
Dominick took over the discussion. "The human...I'm sorry. Miss Grayson stumbled upon the Rites of Summer. She photographed the Council members."
"Great Mother." Jamison rubbed a hand over her face.
"Exactly," he continued. "We need to get back any pictures she took."
Jamison wanted to laugh. Apparently she wasn't the only one displaying questionable judgment. "Were you in skin or pelt?"
"What difference does it make," Cole asked curiously.
"Because if you were in pelt, it'll be pretty hard to explain, but if you were in skin she's only got pictures of a bunch of crazy people dancing naked around a fire."
Darlene gasped. "Jamison!"
Marie hissed, her teeth drawn back over her canines.
"How dare you?" Dominick bellowed.
"From her point of view," Jamison said, her hands raised in a calming gesture.
"The ritual had barely started," Cole said. "We were still in robes."
Relief washed over Jamison. "Then you don't have anything to worry about."
"How can you say that?" Marie asked. "What if she sells the pictures and they're published?"
"You're right. They could be on the cover of some tabloid magazine as we speak."
"While I don't share her levity," Darlene interjected into the gasps of outrage, "she does have a point. Making a big deal out of those pictures will only draw more attention to them. We were on the young woman's property and we got caught. I suggest we need to be more careful."
"And the ritual?" Gail asked. "The Solstice is two weeks away."
"A lot can happen in two weeks."
"Yes, Caber," Gail said, unhappy with the answer.
Darlene directed her attention to Jamison. "Would you wait outside, Pieta? The Council needs to consider all issues before us. We'll call you in as soon as we've come to an agreement."
Jamison dipped her head in acknowledgment and left, closing the door gently behind. She encountered Dalton's scowl as soon as she entered the lobby.
"As soon as all this is over, you and I are going to tangle. Don't worry," he said snidely, "I won't kill you. I'll just tear off an arm or a leg. You'll be more useful as a reminder for others to stay out of my way."
Jamison made a show of studying the blood stains on his shirt. Then she feigned a yawn and said, "Whatever."
She settled into a comfortable chair, put her head back and closed her eyes. The elders' dominant personalities were well-known and it would be a while before they came to any kind of understanding. A catnap seemed like the perfect thing but every time she closed her eyes she saw Hank's body.
"What's going on in there?"
"You tell me," Jamison said without opening her eyes. "I'm sure you're listening to every word."
Panthera hearing was sensitive and Jamison could have overheard what was being discussed behind the closed door even if they whispered, which they most definitely did not. Jamison didn't make the attempt, though, because she'd find out soon enough.
Dalton finally chose a seat as far from her as possible.
Twenty minutes later the doors opened and a steward entered the lobby. Jamison recognized Denny, the check-out boy from the grocery store.
"The elders will see you both."
Dalton surged to his feet and strode across the room, his swagger firmly in place. He acted as though nothing had happened and Jamison shook her head as she followed more sedately. She took a stance in the center of the room and waited for the Council.
"Pieta," Caber Kessler said formally in her capacity as leader, "your actions in regard to Elder Morgan and this unknown predator have been deemed justified."
Dalton grumbled, but kept his mouth shut. Jamison could smell the fury pouring off him and felt the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him.
"You're hereby promoted to the rank of probationary elder. You will also take Elder Morgan's place as captain at the Paul Smith's Visitors Center. Our contacts in the Forest Service will be notified of the change. The appointment to elder is not official until this investigation is concluded. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Caber."
Jamison understood perfectly. She was free to find Hank's killer before she was forced to take a more administrative role in Panthera leadership. She probably had her mother to thank for that.
"You're dismissed."
She dipped her head and started to leave, but Marie Tristan wasn't finished. "Pieta, find this animal fast. The more lives it takes, the harder it will be to contain the situation."
"Yes, Elder."
Dalton began walking to the door, growling unhappily that things hadn't worked out the way he'd hoped.
"Aaron," Darlene said. "Please remain."
He scowled at Jamison, but returned to the center of the room. Jamison could hear him grinding his molars as she closed the door. He was about to be punished, or at the very least chastised, and she struggled not to take pleasure from his predicament. He'd earned it, but a man had died and Jamison couldn't bring herself to be happy about anything at the moment. She had a killer to catch.
Chapter Seventeen
DARLENE TOOK A moment to stare down at the cat standing before the Council. The jaguar mother in her wanted to change and attack, rip out his entrails with her back claws and watch him die slowly. It was the side of herself she had to force back. She was the Caber; the Council looked to her as an example. Now more than ever, she had to act for the good of their people and the other elders had decided. She didn't appreciate the decision made, but she had to go along. The majority ruled.
"Banishment is something the Council hasn't needed to consider in a very long time, but you're riding the edge of our patience."
His eyes widened and he fell back a step, worry making him open and close his mouth, but he didn't reply.
Good. I've got his attention.
"You allowed an elder's murderer to escape because of some juvenile delusion that you're more dominant than Pieta Kessler. You aren't, and if anyone else dies, their blood is on your head."
The last was grated out in deadly warning. Darlene took a deep breath and tried to ignore her pounding pulse. She detested this feline and thought eventually Jamison was going to have to deal with him. Unfortunately, for now, he might serve a purpose.
"The Council has decided to give you one chance to redeem yourself. Before I outline what your mission is, I must make it clear that you will be on your own. You will tell no one, not even Pieta Kessler. Clear?"
"Yes, Caber."
"There are pictures of the Council..."
OVER THE NEXT four days, Jamison concentrated her attention on the investigation as well as settling in as the ranger in charge at the Visitor's Center. She'd been out of the loop for the week prior to Hank's death because he'd been covering her shift while she dealt with the search for the unknown killer. The other employees took her promotion in stride since she was already second in command, happy that an outsider hadn't been brought in. Jamison was just relieved Hank's secretary had cleaned any personal belongings out of the office before she took over. She didn't think she could have managed that on the heels of his funeral, though the casket had been predominantly empty.
She sat back in the oversized chair. It had always been Hank's and sitting in it just didn't feel right, but the routine of running the park station was quickly becoming dull. At least it had allowed her to go over every detail of the case of the unknown carnivore. None of it made any sense. The killings were scattered around in different locations and the targets weren't related in any way she could find. Jamison was missing something.
An idea occurred to her and she walked out into the reception area to talk with the secretary. Jeanie Kraus had elected to stay on after Hank's death and Jamison was pleased with her decision. The woman had worked in the visitor's center for eighteen years an
d was just the kind of help she needed.
"Jeanie, do we have any maps of the immediate area, not the whole park, just around Harmon?"
"Sure." Jeanie pushed her black-framed glasses up her nose and looked at Jamison. "What kind do you want? Ours are specific to what kind of activity tourists want to pursue. There's hiking, water features, bird watching..."
Jamison didn't want anything like that. "Don't we just have a terrain or satellite map of the region?"
"Not really. The forest service tries to focus on what kind--"
"What kind of activities, I get it."
"Wait a minute." Jeanie pulled up an internet page and Jamison looked over her shoulder to see a map of the Adirondacks. In seconds, Jeanie zoomed in to their location. "What area do you need?"
"If we don't have anything, how'd you find that?"
"Google, sweetie. Now, you were saying?"
Jamison pointed to the spot just south of Harmon. "Here, I'd like to include from about ten miles south of where we are now to just north of town."
"And the east/west boundaries?"
"Hmm, how about from Newton Falls to Hayes Brook?"
"That's a big area," Jeanie said, her eyebrows raised to compete with the height of her beehive hairdo.
"Yeah, it is. Can you do it?" Jamison still didn't know if the Felidae Pride was involved, but including Newton Falls wouldn't hurt anything.
"Oh, sure. Look here."
It was perfect. "Can you print that?"
"How big do you want it?"
"As big as you can make it."
"Ranger Kessler, are you going to tell me what this is for? Are you going to make changes to the patrol sectors?"
For a moment Jamison thought Jeanie was referring to the areas for the Panthera hunting parties. Then she realized Jeanie was talking about the other park rangers. "No, I don't see any reason to change anything. I'd just like to know as much about what's around us as possible. You know, in case anyone has any questions."
Jeanie stared at her waiting for more, but when it wasn't forthcoming replied, "Uh huh. Okay, I'll print that out for you in a few minutes. Now, I have a question."
"Yes?"
"When's the last time you slept? You have dark circles under your eyes."
Jamison let out a tired sigh and rubbed her eyes. Since Hank's death, she'd been working almost non-stop. During the day, she was at the visitor's center. She spent her nights roaming the woods. Sometimes she stayed in human form, but more often she stalked the forest as a jaguar. As an animal, her senses were more acute and her instincts were stronger. There was very little downtime, her humiliation at letting the beast escape and sorrow at Hank's loss wouldn't allow it. It was ironic that the other elders thought he was late for their Solstice ritual when in fact he'd already been killed.
She wasn't about to let anyone else die needlessly and with the tourist season about to kick off in earnest, it was more important than ever to find whatever was doing this.
"I'm fine, Jeanie. Just print the map off, please." Jamison retreated to her office.
"Whatever you say."
Jamison's cell phone rang just as she sat down. A quick look at the caller ID made her sigh again, but she ignored the call and let it go to voicemail, just as she had all of Lee's other attempts to contact her. Jamison missed her; being in Lee's arms and kissing her. She missed talking to her and hearing her unique point of view, but until this was over she couldn't afford to become distracted anymore than she already had. Lives depended on her staying focused.
Maybe one day Lee would understand, if Jamison ever got lucky enough to share the truth. It was far more likely Lee would just give up and move on.
It's probably for the best, she thought. I'm going to be an elder and there's no way she can understand that. Hell, she doesn't even know the truth about me.
"Here's your map."
"Thanks, Jeanie."
Jeanie handed her an 11 x 17 inch piece of paper with the area Jamison had requested.
"Thanks. I'll work on this in my office."
Jamison closed her door and spread the paper over a cork bulletin board that hung on the wall. She tacked down the corners and studied the map. She marked the first known kill with a large red pushpin, three miles east of Lilypad Pond.
The second attack she marked in blue. That event had involved the bull and taken place at Red Dot Trail, southeast of Meacham Lake and north of the visitor's center.
She hesitated to pinpoint the third episode. The attack there had been much more exuberant, resulting in a slaughter of a field full of sheep and the murder of a good friend. Finally she pushed in a yellow tack and stood back to see if anything leaped out at her. The third kill had occurred very near the second, just eight miles straight north.
Jamison tried to look not just at the physical locations, but at what landmarks were around them. She had almost given up when she realized there was a loose pattern. All of the events had taken place close to Mafdet Manor and Meacham Lake.
The attack on the hog had been twelve miles west of Mafdet. The bull had been found roughly ten miles south of the lake and Hank and the sheep were killed three miles east of Meacham.
Then again, they were still all pretty spread out. "Maybe I'm just too tired to think and this whole idea of a pattern is just my imagination."
Jamison looked at her watch. At five o'clock, Jeanie would already be gone. She wanted to make a few calls and then she planned to go home for a few hours of sleep before she took to the woods.
She picked up the handset from the telephone on her desk. "Travis? This is Pieta Kessler. Have your team concentrate south of Mafdet Manor and Meacham Lake. Start at Rainbow Falls and end at Azure Mountain. I'll have the other teams take quadrants to cover the rest of the zone."
"Yes, Pieta. Do you want me to advise the other hunters?"
"No, I'll call them myself." Jamison hung up before she realized she hadn't said goodbye. He might have had other questions, but if he did he'd have to call back. She dialed Dinah next.
As soon as the calls were finished, Jamison locked up and headed for the parking lot. She saw Brenda Thomas coming toward her and smiled at the young ranger.
"How's it going, Brenda?"
"Just fine, Captain, but I have a problem."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, beavers have started building a dam at the narrow point on Lake Falls Reservoir and all the water is starting to back up. What should I do?"
Great, Jamison thought. Sleep is overrated anyway.
Chapter Eighteen
LEE LIFTED HER leg and rested her foot against the side of the top stair to the back porch and leaned forward, stretching out her hamstrings after the five-mile run. Her breathing had already slowed to normal, but she wanted a good stretch to avoid any possible cramps. She had increased the distance of her run today, but not out of any desire to extend her workout. Rather, she was trying to keep her mind busy.
That had been the theme since the last time she saw Jamison. Lee had gone through the first and second floors of the house, and sorted through all of her aunt's personal belongings. She'd already made several trips to Goodwill and local thrift stores with most of it. The antiques were stashed in a guest room on the second floor until she had time to go through them more thoroughly. Lee was proud to say that she had even cleared out most of the attic, concentrating on the dusty cobweb-filled areas first. Old wire dress forms, dilapidated cardboard boxes and even a flattened rodent, she refused to try and identify, had all been gone through and removed. Most of it was junk, easily tossed and forgotten except for a small wooden disc that she couldn't resist keeping. It had the engraving of the sun on it and looked like it might be a piece to a board game. If it was, it was handmade and extraordinarily detailed.
Lee stashed it in her jewelry box, but so far hadn't found the matching game.
She had re-investigated the fire pit and found nothing, tried to call Jamison and attempted to strike up conversations with the townspeople
during fabricated trips into Harmon. But the more questions Lee asked, the more recalcitrant they became, to the point where they actively began to avoid her. Something was definitely going on, but now it seemed like whatever it was didn't just involve Jamison. The whole town seemed to be included. She decided this mystery wasn't as easy to solve as they made it look on television.
Finished stretching, Lee entered the house and grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen. She drank it at the sink and then left the tumbler on the counter before she headed for the attic. The sweaty clothes she had on would be fine for finishing up there. Passing through the main entrance she spotted Cleo lying on the sofa and smiled. At least someone was getting a nap.
She took the stairs to the attic and looked around as she entered. The room was definitely in better condition than the first time she'd been here. Most of the floor was bare now and what remained was shoved to one side. She had tackled the more offensive areas first to get them over with and what remained wasn't nearly as intimidating. These were the things she thought her aunt might have actually used and she was curious about what could be hiding in a bulky hope chest and two large wooden cabinets.
Before she dug in, Lee considered phoning Jamison but changed her mind. It was clear her calls weren't going to be answered and one more attempt would qualify as stalking. It hurt that Jamison wouldn't phone her back, but there was nothing she could do about it and dwelling on it wasn't going to help. Shaking her head, she walked over to the hope chest and grabbed under the edge of the lid with her fingertips. Lee lifted up, but the top didn't budge. She frowned and knelt down to get a closer look, wondering if the chest was locked. She couldn't find a keyhole and thought it might just be stuck. Lee placed the heels of both hands under the lid's lip and tried again, but the trunk was definitely locked. Then she noticed an odd inscription on the surface. A landscape impression had been burned into the wood. It was quite beautiful and detailed. Lee saw the trees, a jungle cat of some sort, a raccoon and the moon. The cat, raccoon and moon were all separate pieces inlaid into the background. Each was carved into a circular piece of wood and they rotated when she turned them. There was an empty space where it looked like one more piece was supposed to rest.
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