Cassidy followed his gaze. Michelle Allen, their chief ecologist, slid into the seat next to her. Her brown hair was pulled neatly into a ponytail, and she sat primly behind the table, prepared to take notes. Michelle had been with ZEBRA longer than Cassidy and had about ten years on her age-wise. Cassidy returned her smile, wondering why Michelle had never advanced higher in the organization.
Steve flung himself into the nearest chair, flipping her the finger and dropping a flurry of disorganized papers on the table. She stuck her tongue out at him and grinned. His long, slender physique should make him ungainly, but he was as limber as a monkey, constantly in motion and burning more calories just sitting still than the average person did walking a mile. He winked. She crossed her eyes. Catching an amused expression on Jake’s face, Cassidy blushed and twisted in her chair to face her administrator. “Valerie, do you have copies of the preliminary report for everyone?”
Valerie had a one-inch stripe of shock-white hair that contrasted with the rest of her black bob, and Cassidy tried not to stare at it as the older woman tucked it behind her ear. “Yes, they’re right here.” She carefully distributed the detailed reports down the table and nodded to Sharpe when she was done.
When everyone had a copy of the report, Drew stood and clapped his hands together. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, you are officially now members of Pod Gray Wolf.”
A soft chuckle spread around the table. Dr. Sharpe referred to all his group assignments as pods. The term originated from one of their earlier expeditions where they complained that the close quarters made them feel as if they were all just peas in a pod. Sharpe demanded equitable teamwork and liked the idea of reinforcing that idea by naming each handpicked team as a “pod.”
After the noise settled down, he continued. “As you know, all reports and communication shall be labeled as such.” He turned his chair and flicked a few switches. The lights dimmed, and an overhead projector outlined a sketch of Yellowstone National Park.
“We’ve been assigned to assist park personnel in determining why their gray wolf population has suddenly decreased in number. The team leader for this expedition will be Cassidy Lowell. She is an expert on the gray wolf and was one of the team leaders that initially reintroduced the species to Yellowstone National Park. At this point in time, I’ll turn the projector over to her, and she’ll explain a few more details.”
“Thank you, sir.” Cassidy flipped another transparency on the screen, displaying a picture of a proud male wolf, his vibrant golden eyes gleaming fiercely from the screen. A mask of brown, gray, and black hair outlined the eyes cupped by soft, downy white fur that spread from his nose to beneath his ears, producing the effect of a wide, cheeky grin.
“This is canis lupus, more commonly referred to as the gray wolf. In 1973, the population in North America plummeted to four hundred due to a long history of hunting, trapping, and poisoning. The gray wolf was one of the first species listed as endangered in that same year, and all hunting has since been prohibited. Unfortunately, there are many ranchers that still uphold the view that these are dangerous beasts.” Cassidy took a breath and scanned the room to make sure she still held everyone’s attention. Her mouth watered when another whiff of coffee filtered across the table, and she occupied her caffeine-starved brain by refocusing on the lecture.
“There are roughly thirty-five hundred gray wolves now residing in the lower forty-eight states, primarily in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan. In 1995, I had the privilege of taking part in the reintroduction of thirty-one gray wolves to Yellowstone. That count has steadily increased, and in the last survey the population was noted at approximately a hundred and twenty adults. Last month,” she said, pausing and looking through the dim light at her team, “the count was reported at fifty-five. And as of this morning, GPS can find no positive response from any of the collared wolves.” A soft gasp and instant buzz could be heard throughout the room.
“Has the wolf been removed from protection under the Endangered Species Act?” Jake asked.
“Not yet,” Cassidy answered. “However, federal regulators have proposed a lower level of protection that places them close to being removed. This is exceptionally dangerous, as we will no longer have any control over their fate.”
“This might sound like a dumb question, Cassidy,” a soft voice spoke from the side, “but if the wolves are confined to Yellowstone, why are the ranchers so against them?”
Cassidy smiled at Michelle. She always saw the upbeat side of every ecological success; maybe that’s what prevented the ecologist from promotion. It would be beyond her ability to believe that any positive accomplishment would result in negative responses, and that hindered the out-of-the-box thinking required to lead a successful mission. “Michelle, as you know, we can’t control wildlife. The wolves have wandered out of Yellowstone territory, and there’s nothing we can do to stop them. Many ranchers have been, and still are, alarmed at the reintroduction of a natural predator to the surrounding land, threatening their livelihood. They are mollified, somewhat, by the reimbursement for dead livestock, but we’re still forced to shoot any wolves that decide to dine on domesticated animals.”
Cassidy watched Jake stretch his legs beneath the table and rub his chin in thought. “Who’s to say half the Yellowstone population hasn’t migrated?” he queried, interrupting her thoughts.
“About twelve out of the twenty or so packs have migrated beyond
Yellowstone boundaries. However, all the packs have numerous collared wolves. The packs are monitored constantly through GPS. Also, they’re clinging very close to Yellowstone. They’re still in what is considered undeveloped wild country.”
“You said they were collared?”
“Yes. Even though a tagged wolf would be considered inferior to the rest of the pack and killed, Yellowstone has had great success with radioed collars. About 75 percent of the population is tracked, and all packs can be located through GPS.”
“How are the others counted then?” he persisted.
“Visually. Just like you and I, each wolf has individual markings and is assigned either a number or name based on its description. Pictures are taken when possible and a detailed log maintained.”
Jake tapped a pen against the desk. “What about other wildlife?”
“As in?”
“I’m not sure. Have there been other inconsistencies that might point us in a direction to begin the investigation?”
Cassidy shrugged. “I haven’t gone over Yellowstone’s spreadsheets yet. However, I did send a bulletin out to all the local veterinarians and wildlife organizations within this area and haven’t received back anything substantial.” She flipped over a few pages and squinted at a printed e-mail. It was hard to read in the dim light. “The only response sent was from a vet’s office in Gardiner. He’s been experiencing a higher than normal influx of parvo …”
Pausing, she held the letter under the light of the overhead projector. “It says that he didn’t feel it to be a concern because almost all of the dogs originated from the pound. They’ve tested the remaining animals in the facility and cleaned the area. The dogs were all treated successfully.” She glanced up at Jake. “That’s it.”
Dr. Sharpe flipped off the overhead projector and turned the lights on. Cassidy squinted and rubbed her eyes.
“Okay, Cass, what’s your take on this? Environmental or man?”
“I don’t know, sir. The numbers are really scary. Almost all the population gone or missing? It could be anything from a poisonous plant to migration to illegal hunting, but I agree that we need to investigate.”
“That’s what the feds want as well. I don’t believe that disease is involved, due to the fact that no bodies have been found. Therefore, I’ll refrain from involving the CDC. Yellowstone wants to maintain its image as a safe haven for wildlife and has asked that we keep a low profile and try to avoid any negative publicity.” Sharpe cleared his voice and pierced Cassidy with a demanding look. “Chie
f Ethan Connor is your contact.”
Cassidy smiled brightly at her boss and nodded … another aspect of her past brought present. Ethan.
“All right then, I consider this pod officially briefed. I’ll be returning to Atlanta in approximately thirty minutes. Are there any questions?”
The room was silent, and Sharpe glanced at his watch. “I believe, Cassidy, that a joint briefing is taking place at park headquarters tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cassidy gathered her notes and rose from the table. She absently acknowledged the other departing team members as she stretched out muscles that screamed for a quick workout. “You ready to gather that water sample, Jake?”
He grinned and nodded toward one of the closed doors. “Why don’t you go freshen up, and I’ll order us some lunch first. Then we can get to work.”
She nodded, silently relieved that she’d have a few moments to herself. Before she’d reached her bedroom door, she stopped and turned. Dr. Sharpe was standing in the middle of the parlor staring at her. She couldn’t read his expression, but it sparked alarm.
“Sir?”
“I want to make sure that neither the death of your parents nor your episode in Nigeria will affect your performance.”
Cassidy’s entire body tingled then went numb. Heat flashed to her face, more than likely making her look like an overripe tomato. She didn’t dare glance at Jake.
“No, sir.” Her voice cracked, and she inhaled to garner some control. She couldn’t be any more mortified if she were standing stark naked.
“You’ll do whatever’s necessary. Is that clear?”
“Sir?”
“If you need to fly in and out of that airport where your parents died, then that’s what you’ll do. I’d be disappointed if you required rescuing again.”
Embarrassment laced with anger left her speechless. She’d never been the object of Dr. Sharpe’s concerns before, and his reference to her personal tragedy was both unprofessional and unwarranted. Not to mention that his allusion to Nigeria remained totally unjustified.
“Dr. Sharpe, I’m certain that won’t be necessary.” Jake stepped over and took her elbow, leading her toward the bedroom. He shoved her inside and slammed the door closed. She felt like a little kid, her body unable to respond to the conflicting signals her mind kept screaming.
What the hell was the matter with her? Cassidy inhaled deeply, then pounded one shaking fist against her open palm. She closed her mind to insecurity and guilt, focusing on her center balance. Yanking the door open, she opened her mouth to tell the men to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine but faced an empty room.
She stood gaping at the paper-strewn conference area. She was alone. Tears burned her eyes but this time not from old ghosts. This time, they were tears of disillusionment. Her failure in the last mission must have placed her on Sharpe’s watch list. She’d known deep down of this possibility, but it stung when reality bit her in the ass. The thought that she’d lost his respect and trust fired up her guilt over
Anna another notch.
This was the reward for sticking to your ideals.
Cassidy rested her head against the doorjamb, trying to find justification and reassurance from some small crevice of her soul.
Instead, she found coffee.
A slow smile spread across her face as she moved forward, drawn to the carafe of caffeine that finally lay within reach. Pouring a large mug full, Cassidy rested her hip against the conference table. Allowing the heat and rich hickory of the slow-roasted beans to weave its healing powers around her jangled nerves, she thought about everything that Drew had said that afternoon. The puzzle became larger, the pieces more elaborate.
“What game are you playing, boss?”
CHAPTER 10
CASSIDY BRUSHED OUT HER TANGLED CURLS AND QUICKLY braided her hair, securing the end with a black ponytail holder. She leant forward and scrutinized her face. An extra spattering of freckles littered her nose, making her reach for her purse to find the sunscreen. Her fingers slid against its edge but failed to latch on, and the bag crashed to the ground. Rolling her eyes at her clumsiness, Cassidy knelt down to gather up her things. A small green metal square caught her attention.
She reached forward and snagged it off the carpet. Staring at the flash drive, a tornado of thoughts filled her mind. Cassidy began collecting her scattered belongings. She held her cell phone in one hand and the flash drive in the other. With a resigned sigh, she dialed Charles’ number and prayed he’d answer, make her laugh at her foolish thoughts of his endangerment, and give her some answers. Stupid man. He and David were probably halfway around the world engrossed in another geological mystery. But she needed them now to enlighten her as to why Drew was suddenly interested in the geological survey they hadn’t bothered to complete.
The phone rang four times and then flipped into voicemail. Cassidy prepared to leave a message but frowned when an automated voice indicated Charles’ voicemail was full. “That’s odd.”
Before she had an opportunity to digest the meaning of yet another dilemma, Jake pounded on her door. “Food’s here.”
“I don’t want anything.”
Her bedroom door opened, and Cassidy hastily tucked the flash drive into her back pocket, then scooped up the rest of her belongings. Jake glowered at her. “You’re going to eat.”
“No!” Cassidy shouted, then cringed at the ferocity of the word. He didn’t understand. There was something chewing at her brain, and she needed to figure out what the hell it was. The flash drive had triggered a memory, but the edges were fuzzy and the picture distorted. Drew’s interest in the survey stored on the drive sent up a slew of warning signals, but the reason eluded her. She counted backwards to control her irritation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”
He stood before her, hands on hips, a very determined expression on his face. “I ordered all this food. You have to eat something.”
She rose and followed him out of her room and into the main conference area. Jake walked around a heavily laden trolley, inhaling and sighing in appreciation. He uncovered steaming plate after steaming plate. With a quick bow, he waved her over to admire the bounty. She rolled her eyes at his dramatic presentation. It didn’t matter that her stomach churned and growled at the scent of the food; Cassidy wanted control. And that meant eating when she determined it was time to eat. “I’m not hungry.” He continued to circle the baking dishes, ladling spoonful after spoonful onto a plate.
“Sit.”
“Look, Anderson, I don’t want to eat. However, if you need me, I intend on sitting at that table over there.” She pointed to the conference table he’d shoved aside to make room for the food cart. “And when you’re done stuffing food into your mouth, you can join me. I’ll be working.” She walked to the table, pulled the stack of files that Steve had left for her, dropped into a chair, and flipped open the top one, ignoring her biologist.
She’d work through the meaning of the flash drive later. For now, the wolves were top priority. Scanning the first sheet, she quickly became absorbed with the updated wildlife statistics the park provided. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual.
Jake pushed something into her hand. It smelled heavenly. Out of habit, she took a bite and stifled a sigh of appreciation as the warm bread and succulent beef slid down her throat. Maybe she should eat just a bit.
“Watcha got?” he asked, pulling a chair up next to her. She ate another bite of the sandwich and ignored the self-satisfied smile that crossed his face.
She wiped the edge of her mouth with the napkin she found on her lap. When had that gotten there? “Nothing.”
“Bummer.”
“Uh huh.” She chewed, swallowed, and placed her half-eaten sandwich on the corner of his plate. Snatching a fry, she popped it in her mouth and laid the paper she’d been studying on the table between them. “Here.” She stabbed a finger at a graph. “See the dips in wildlife population over the past fe
w years? The rise and fall is absolutely normal.”
“That’s good.”
“For them; not for us. I was praying for a bit of enlightenment.”
Jake handed her back her sandwich and gently tipped her elbow toward her mouth, indicating she needed to finish it. “I suppose that means we have to find ourselves a pack of wolves.”
“Exactly,” she nodded, waving the last bit of bread and beef in the air. Jake smiled, pushing his plate closer to her. She grinned and finished off the fries. “I’ll need the GPS stats first thing in the morning in order to determine what post to observe from.”
“I’ll notify Steve to have them on hand before we meet with the rangers.”
He’s usurping my authority again. “I’ll do that,” she said. Damn, this man irritated her.
“Suit yourself.”
Cassidy pushed the papers to the center of the table, faced Jake, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me why you seem attached at my hip and determined to be in charge.”
Jake didn’t say anything for a few minutes. She almost smiled at how quickly his brain seemed to be running through scenarios. He leaned forward and stared intently, his face twitching with amusement. “I think you’re pretty?”
Rolling her eyes, she sighed in exasperation. “You don’t look like any biologist I’ve ever worked with before.”
Jake’s answering smile lit his eyes, and it was damn hard not to smile back. Cassidy bit her bottom lip, waiting for some answers. Call her ultrasensitive, but there was something about this man that had her nerves on constant high alert.
“I needed a hiatus,” Jake said.
Cassidy narrowed her eyes, thinking back to her conversation with Steve. She didn’t voice the silly rumor about Black Stripe invading missions like ghosts, but it crossed her mind for one brief second before rational thoughts returned. Black Stripe was government, and government provided soldiers. Jake Anderson might be buff and tough, but by the way he handled himself in the meeting with his comprehension of the wolf statistics, Cassidy recognized that he knew his science. “A hiatus from what?” she asked.
Devil's Gold Page 9