Punish (Feral Justice Book 1)

by Vella Munn

  “Yes, I do.”

  Despite the closed-up house, he heard the dogs whine. Did they know or care that he was jeopardizing his career for them?

  Why hadn’t he told law enforcement and his manager what he knew?

  * * * *

  Rachelle’s rear end ached from the miserably uncomfortable chair she’d been sitting in for longer than she wanted to think about. As soon as she’d introduced herself in the emergency room, someone from the billing department had latched onto her. She’d found Joe’s wallet with his insurance card in it. By the time she’d taken care of financial matters, she’d learned Joe was getting a CT scan. After that, he was moved to the heart unit.

  According to the cardiologist managing his case, giving him aspirin and getting him to the hospital as soon as they had might have made all the difference. The CT had shown he’d had a thrombotic stroke caused by a blood clot in one of the arteries supplying blood to his brain. He’d been given something called a TPA through a vein in his arm. As the cardiologist explained, TPA was a potent clot-busting drug that was effective only if given within four and a half hours of when the symptoms begin.

  Right now they were waiting to see how well the TPA worked.

  She’d been able to spend a little time with him, then had been told to leave so more tests could be conducted. Going by his lack of response when she squeezed his hand and kissed his cheeks, she guessed he’d been sedated. Much as she hated seeing him drugged, he didn’t appear to be in pain.

  “He’s going to be like that for a while,” a nurse had told her. “Fortunately he’s pretty stable. If you have things you need to do, leave your phone number with us.”

  So why was she sitting here? She’d left a message telling Nate what she knew, followed by depression because she couldn’t think of anyone else to call. They’d found a substitute so she didn’t need to go to the school. She’d been here at least four hours and would soon have to check on the dogs, but it seemed like so much work.

  Besides, she hated the idea of putting distance between Joe—Dad—and herself.

  Her stomach growled, but if she was hungry she couldn’t tell. Just the same, maybe she could ask where the cafeteria was and—

  “What’s the latest?”

  The unexpected yet familiar voice jerked her upright. Nate, still dressed for work in the tan outfit that fit him so well, was heading her way. He seemed to be dragging. She couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “Is he in danger of dying?” he asked.

  “No. I don’t think so. He’s getting—no one seems concerned and the doctor was pretty matter-of-fact.”

  “Good.”

  “Yes.”

  “I checked at admissions,” he said as he sank into the plastic chair next to her. “First they said they couldn’t give me any information because of confidentiality, but maybe my uniform impressed them, that and my saying Joe is my uncle. They sent me here. Do you—”

  “What are you doing here? I thought you had to—”

  “Work? Yeah, I do. I have been.” The way he stared at her hand made her wonder if he was contemplating taking it. Much as she needed the contact, she wasn’t sure how she’d react.

  His attention moved to her face. Maybe it was her off-balance view of the world, but she sensed he didn’t want to talk about something.

  “What is it?” she asked even though that was the last thing she wanted to say.

  “Nothing.”

  No, not nothing. Is this about why you came out this morning? Her throat dried, and she knew she couldn’t ask. “Where have you been?” Hopefully that question was safe.

  Again, it might be her mental state, but she’d swear he was relieved. “Succumbing to a forceful woman’s insistence. Do you know where Ball Road is? It’s a good ten miles south of Joe’s place. Anyway, I just left there, not that I accomplished much.”

  Suddenly she wanted to know everything about what he’d been doing since they’d separated. Anything was better than remembering how helpless her dad had looked in the sterile bed and worrying about what Nate wasn’t telling her.

  “What didn’t you accomplish?” she asked.

  “Giving a lecture, again. The person I needed to talk to wasn’t there.” He jerked his head toward the double doors leading to the heart wing. “Won’t they let us in?”

  “Only relatives are allowed, and just for a few minutes.”

  “But you—”

  “Stretched things a bit by saying he was my father.”

  “I wish I could see him.”

  “He probably won’t know you’re there.”

  “But I will.”

  How many times over the past four hours had she replayed Nate’s role in getting her dad to the hospital? Every time she did she reminded herself that anyone would have done what he had, but that didn’t stop her from wondering, from hoping something personal had motivated him. Darn it, Dad needed more than just her caring about him.

  “You need to get out of here,” Nate said.

  “What? I—”

  He stopped her by getting to his feet. “Sitting here isn’t doing either of you any good. Have you had anything to eat?”

  “I was just thinking about asking where the cafeteria is.”

  “I know.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Yes, I do.”

  * * * *

  Watching Nate dig into a plate of spaghetti while she nibbled on a salad, Rachelle tried to tell herself that his stomach and his stomach alone was responsible for their having lunch together, but maybe not. He asked for clarification of some of what she’d told him about Joe’s condition, but the rest of the time he didn’t say anything. She tried to come up with something to talk about, but nothing stuck. Maybe he was concerned about getting back to work but maybe—

  Suddenly scared, she put down her fork and leaned back. Before she could pull the necessary question together, Nate did the same.

  “What happened to Smoke? She was bleeding.”

  Just get it out. Don’t evade. “Someone shot her.”

  “Shot?”

  “With buckshot. Otherwise—”

  “Otherwise she’d probably be dead.”

  “Yes. Dad was treating her when I got there. He said she’d gotten home after her brothers did.” She held up her hand. “Don’t say it!”

  Two women in white sitting nearby stared at her.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she told Nate, her voice lower.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “You’re right, I don’t but I have some idea.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” He practically surged to his feet. “We need privacy.”

  No! “It can’t wait?” What had happened to her courage? “This hasn’t been my best day.”

  He gripped the table. “I’m running out of time, Rachelle.”

  When Nate had told Rachelle they needed privacy, he’d had no idea where they’d go. He wasn’t sure what had taken them to the side courtyard that sported a pond filled with koi and water plants, but the quiet, shaded area helped him relax. If he’d known who was responsible for this island of calm in the middle of a place filled with raw emotions, he would have thanked them.

  An elderly woman sat on a bench on the other side of the pond, but he didn’t believe she could hear what Rachelle and he said to each other. Making sure Rachelle got something to eat had been the right thing to do because even though she obviously didn’t want to be with him, her eyes had lost their poleaxed appearance.

  “I’ve decided what I’m going to do,” she said while he was trying to think how to get started. “I’m going to go to my apartment for what I need to stay at Dad’s place for who knows how long. That way I can keep an eye on the dogs, make sure Smoke’s wounds don’t get infected.”

  “Rachelle?”

  “Yes, Nate.”

  You’re waiting. “About why I wanted to talk to Joe—have you caught the news?�
�

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and began rocking back and forth. “Damn.”

  “Then you have.”

  “No.” Stopping, she angled her body toward his. “But I know this isn’t going to be good.”

  “A deer poacher was attacked last night. Killed.”

  “By…”

  Cursing himself for making her ask, he leaned closer. “By the grays, Rachelle.” Before she could ask how he was certain, he handed her everything. He glossed over West’s emotional condition and focused on the teenager’s description of the dogs. One thing he was sure of—West and his dad hadn’t filled Smoke full of buckshot.

  “Did—you see the body?”

  “I didn’t need to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  What indeed? He’d brought her out here to calm her, but suddenly he wanted to slam his fist into something. Letting the emotion flow over him, he stood, folded his arms over his chest and stared down at her.

  “I saw the two bodies before this one,” he reminded her. “Last night wouldn’t have been much different.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “The poacher deserved it, same as the brothers.”

  Her mouth sagged.

  “It isn’t hunting season. That man had absolutely no right to take a fawn’s life. He stalked it, weapon against innocence.”

  She stroked her throat. “It’s hardly the first time.”

  “Look, I deal with people who don’t see animals as something living, let alone creatures with souls. It’s my job to advocate for them, but what happens when I take a case against an abusive or neglectful owner to court? A slap on the wrist. Some damn fine.”

  Somewhere in the middle of his rant she’d stood and wrapped her fingers around his tense forearms. “It gets to you. I understand that but—”

  “Gets to me is an understatement.” He shouldn’t be dumping his fury on her, especially today, but he couldn’t stop. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at a dog’s carcass and know it starved because some bastard fed his belly? That fawn had every right to go on living. The man who shot her didn’t need to kill to keep from going hungry. He did it because—I can’t wrap my mind around his rationale.”

  She nodded and took his hands. “What you’re feeling has been boiling up inside you for a long time. It needed to come out.”

  Maybe, but why now?

  “A poacher paid for taking a life that wasn’t his to take,” he got out.

  Her fingers tightened around his. “And Dad’s dogs are responsible. Why? That’s what I don’t understand, why?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Raw didn’t come close to describing how Rachelle felt as she headed down the drive leading to her dad’s house. Nate was behind her, which was the last thing she wanted.

  “I have to do my job,” he’d told her when they were still standing near the pond. “Much as I hate it. I want to assess the situation before calling for assistance, see whether Smoke needs vet care.”

  Care followed by death.

  “What do you mean by assistance?” she’d asked.

  “It depends on how the grays behave. I don’t want the press catching wind of this if at all possible. Do you think you can load them into a vehicle?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His nod said he understood she was talking about the emotional task as much as the physical one.

  From the moment he’d told her he had no doubt the grays had killed the poacher, she’d known their freedom was over. What did she mean, freedom? They’d be destroyed. What was the term, humanely euthanized? Would that happen as soon as they were taken to the pound or would they be kept penned up while—while what? She hadn’t been interested in crime TV programs or movies, so didn’t know much about investigative techniques. Did animals have the same rights as humans? Legal defense maybe?

  She’d have to tell Dad, somehow. Have to ask Nate for details about the trio’s fate, somehow. Try to decide what, if anything, she could do to keep them alive.

  Numbness seeped over her as she pulled up and turned off the engine, leaving room for Nate to park next to her vehicle. As days went in terms of hard, she hadn’t had one this bad since her mother had forced her to leave the man who was her father.

  Nate tapped on her driver’s side window. Sick at heart, she opened the door.

  “They aren’t barking,” he said.

  “What? No, they aren’t.”

  “Most dogs do when—but they aren’t like other dogs. You’re sure you locked them inside?”

  “Absolutely.” Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to help Nate do his job. Life would be better if she’d never met him. At the same time, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and—what?

  The man confused her. She suspected he confused himself.

  “You know what I need to ask of you,” he said.

  Having to look up at him made her feel vulnerable, so she got out. Despite her efforts to get rid of them, faint bloodstains remained on her slacks. Needing something to do, she rubbed the marks and told him she’d listened to a local talk show on the way over.

  “People called in saying all kinds of things. One man said he was a close friend of the hunter. He and his buddies are going to run down the dogs and blow them away. Then a woman said the hunter got what he deserved. The host asked her to expand on that and—Nate, her position reminded me of yours.”

  “Yeah, well…” He pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I said some things I didn’t know I would.”

  Because you trust me or because everything was boiling over inside you?

  For the first time since arriving, she turned her attention to the house. No dogs stood at the window. Before she could think of something to say, Nate rested his hand on her shoulder. For a moment everything felt right.

  “I got a call on my way here.”

  “What now?” she snapped, the spell broken.

  “It was from one of my coworkers. She’d been contacted by a man who raises wolf-dogs. I’ve dealt with Wayde before, but maybe he couldn’t get in touch with me. I’ve been—busy. He spotted a big dog around his kennel last night. His hybrids were getting agitated and the big dog wouldn’t leave so he shot it.”

  “With buckshot?”

  “Yes.” He indicated the house. “Rachelle, please.”

  Nate had played a vital role in getting her dad to the hospital. She owed him. “How are you going to do it?”

  “I can’t get all three in the SUV. I’ll have to call my manager, explain things and drop everything in his lap.”

  Questions banked inside her but they’d have to wait until she’d stepped into the house. The dogs had to be there. She’d given them no escape route.

  “I know you don’t want to do this,” he said.

  “You don’t either.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Ever since her return, she’d wanted to ask Dad what being a POW had been like so she could understand the experience’s impact on him, but she hadn’t known how. Was it that different from what Nate was going through right now?

  What was she thinking? Dad had been forced into hell while Nate was doing a job he’d been trained for—a job he might be losing touch with.

  Climbing the stairs took forever and yet too soon she was on the porch. She’d already taken the key from her pocket, and wasn’t surprised when her hand shook as she tried to put it in the slot. Finally she got it to work and stepped inside. Nate didn’t join her. She closed the door. Silence greeted her.

  “Hey, guys, it’s me. Your human is going to be all right but it’ll be a few days before…”

  The house felt empty. No way could the dogs be there and she not know it. Just the same, she whistled.

  The front door opened, then closed. She sensed Nate’s presence. Not acknowledging him, she walked into her dad’s bedroom. A breeze drew her attention to the shattered window near his bed.

  “They broke out,” Nate said unne
cessarily.

  Pulling courage around her, she tiptoed over the shattered glass and studied the shards sticking to the frame. She saw no blood or hairs.

  “Why?” she muttered. “Did being hemmed in freak them out that much?”

  “Maybe they knew they needed to be free.”

  “What are you saying? That they can reason?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “What I do know is I’ve never encountered dogs like them.”

  “Neither have I. The things they’ve done—it isn’t normal dog behavior.”

  What is it then? “Where did they go?” The mobile home park was past the vacant land.

  “I knew. Damn it, I knew.”

  Alerted by his tone, she spun around. He stood a couple of feet away, trapping her. “What did you know?”

  “That this would happen. Rachelle, ever since I talked to the poacher’s son I’ve known the grays were responsible.” He rammed his hands in his back pockets, then jerked them out. “Instead of doing what I was hired to do, I’ve been sitting on vital information. Why did I decide to talk to Joe before calling law enforcement? What possessed me to keep my mouth shut all these hours?”

  She didn’t know.

  “I won’t say anything,” she whispered and stepped toward him. “We—what are we going to do?”

  “We?”

  Warm air wafted in through the open window. Between that and the sounds of insects and birds, she felt protected. The world couldn’t reach her here. In a few days she’d bring Dad home and feed him healthy food. They’d reminisce, she’d tell him about her research into the Hopi and—

  “What are you thinking?” Nate asked.

  “Crazy thoughts. I’d give anything to be able to fill my gas tank and take off. Maybe I’ll head north, wind up in Alaska.”

  “Why Alaska?”

  “Because it’s a beautiful state. I could teach at some remote village, live off the land.” She sighed. “Like I said, crazy thoughts.” The kind maybe you’ve been having.

  “I spent a month up there one summer when I was in college. Working in the cannery was the hardest work I’ve ever done, but I’d love to go back.”