“With the Clydesdale, it was a lot more complicated. They couldn’t get the box any closer than about forty feet. Three trees had to be dropped and cut right to ground level. The animal had to be set on a steel platform which was then dragged to the box.”
We both stare at it for a time.
“Lester had some contacts to get this, especially two of them. They don’t come cheap.”
“The organizations he is dealing with would have this kind of equipment, wouldn’t they?” I ask.
“Either that or the ability to get their hands on them.” She thinks for a minute and then nods her head. “You’re right. This is bigger than just these two guys.”
“How do you mean?”
“Think about it a minute. A zoo isn’t going to offer up four million dollars and two of these things, as well as a helicopter with which to haul them, without checking it out first. And they especially aren’t going to do this kind of deal with a couple of lowlifes. They would at least have their own people along.”
“Remember what Lester said? ‘You’re not dealing with just us.’”
“There you go. There is someone else, and he, or they, are close by.”
I look over at Roma and Vadik. “How long before they wake up?”
“Not a clue,” Sharon says. “If they knew what they were doing, they’d have given them just enough to put them down, and then just before picking them up, inject them again. It’s safer for the animals to keep them asleep in a series of small doses instead of trying to knock them out for a real long time in one huge dose. Maybe another hour or two.”
We’re in the cave, poking about Lester and Sarge’s things, looking for evidence of who they’re working with, or for. Mandi is with Matt, standing watch over the two men and monitoring the cats for signs of consciousness. I’ll probably know when one wakes up before they will. My feline communication network is tuned in.
Sharon is pulling clothes out of a duffle bag. A magazine appears in her hand. The cover is sexually explicit beyond my wildest imagination. She hurriedly shoves it back in. I try to turn my face away before she realizes I saw it, but it is no good. I can feel the heat running up my neck and face. She says nothing, throws the bag aside and looks about for a distraction. Her eyes fall upon the one I kicked the dirt over.
“Everything is probably in that notebook,” she says.
I lift the small wire bound notebook hanging from my fingers. We found it right off. We take it out into the light and start flipping through it. There is very little beyond a page of a dozen phone numbers with first names.
“Washington state and possibly California,” Sharon says. She points to Charles and Dan. “These two are Montana, 406. This other one here, Mick, and the others I don’t have a clue.”
I follow down the list to Mick. The area code is 682. My eyes roll out of focus for just a second. I snap them back and look at the number again, expecting that I saw it wrong. I didn’t. “That’s mine,” I say.
“Yours? That’s your phone number?”
I shake my head. “No. But 682 is my area code. That’s one of two Fort Worth area codes.”
“Oh!” She straightens her back. “A coincidence?”
“I don’t think so.” My tightening gut tells me so. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Do you know a Mick?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Wish we could call it.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Hmm. This one, 55, is an international code. Could be anywhere.”
“Canada?” I suggest.
She shakes her head. “Canada is the same as us. I would like to call these two Montana numbers. Charles might be this guy Sarge. This other one, Dan, bugs me like your 682 bugs you.”
“You know a Dan?”
“Dan Grandy,” she says with a growl in her voice.
I consider Grandy for a few seconds. “I recognize the name . . . from somewhere.”
“I see his face in my nightmares. You should, too. If not for him, my husband and your mother would still be alive.”
“Sheriff Grandy!” Chills suddenly run up and down my arms. “He’s the one who called Vandermill.”
“That’s right.”
“We told the FBI that. He’s still sheriff?”
“He slimed his way out of it. Now it looks like he’s slimed himself into something else. I hated him when he won the election that Brian stupidly lost. I didn’t even know why at the time, because I was happy Brian lost. I’d had enough of his being sheriff.”
“There are probably a lot of Dans,” I attempt to argue. “Maybe this isn’t his number.”
“Maybe not, but you just told me you don’t believe in coincidences.”
We return to the sleeping animals, all four of them. “Any movement yet?” Sharon asks.
“Not a peep.” Matt is squatted down next to Lester. He stands with a phone that is twice as big as his hand. “What do you make of this, Mom? This isn’t a regular phone. What is Iridium?”
She walks over, takes if from him and nods. “A sat-phone.”
“A what?”
She looks at me, grins, and lifts her eyebrows. “A satellite phone. Let’s make some phone calls.”
Chapter 31
We all stand close while Sharon dials Mick at the Fort Worth number. It takes a while to click through, and then there is only one ring before voice mail kicks in.
“Say something. Leave a number.”
Panic crosses Sharon’s eyes. Two seconds after the beep I snatch the phone from her and put it to my face. “Calling for Lester. You have his number.” I disconnect.
Sharon takes the phone back. “Quick thinking. Thank you.”
“Who do you think that was?” Matt asks.
“Probably some slime ball Lester type,” Sharon says.
Mandi pipes up. “Just because it’s a Fort Worth area code doesn’t mean that’s where he is. Lots of people live away from the base of their cell phones.”
We all consider that for a moment, then Sharon looks at the list and starts dialing again. Matt says, “What are you doing?”
“I’m calling Sheriff Grandy.”
He grabs the phone and pushes the button to end the call. “What are you going to say? You froze up on that first call. Stop and think about it a minute. Also, we don’t know that this is Dan Grandy. It could be anybody.”
She stares at her son for a few seconds. “You’re right.” She takes a deep, thoughtful breath. “I’ll ask to speak to Nancy. He’ll tell me I’ve dialed a wrong number. I’ll apologize and hang up. Grandy’s voice is very distinctive. I’ll know in a couple of words if it’s him.”
“Good idea,” Matt says. “But maybe I should do it.”
“No. He’s heard your voice many times before. I’ve hardly said two words in his presence. He wouldn’t know me.”
“I still think . . .”
“Matt, no! . . . I’ll do it. I’m fine. I’m not going to say something stupid, all right?”
He backs away. “All right.”
Without pausing she punches in the number. We all stand close and listen. The name, Dan, shows up in the display. There is a click, and then several seconds of dead air. No ringing. She starts to move her thumb to end the call when suddenly . . .
“Grandy!” Time stands still until he adds, “This is Grandy. What’s going on, Lester?”
Sharon punches the end button.
“Shit,” Sharon says softly.
“Now what?” Mandi says.
We’re still standing in the tight group. Instead of staring at the phone, we’re looking at each other.
“I should have thought of caller ID.” Sharon runs a hand through her hair. “He might send someone to check on Lester.”
“If he knows where Lester is,” I say. “He may not be part of this.”
Suddenly the phone starts making a ghastly sound, like a rusty nail being pulled out of an old board; someone’s idea of a humorous
ring tone. We all stare at the name, Mick, in the display until the noise stops. A second later it starts up again. This time Dan pops up in the display. Sharon shuts the phone off and then turns her eyes to me and raises her eyebrows.
“We need to get out of here,” I say. I look over at Roma and Vadik. “Can you wake them up?”
“Probably, but I don’t like it.”
“If the sheriff has access to that helicopter, he could be here in thirty minutes, or less. I don’t think we have much choice.”
“You just said he might not be part of this.”
“I’ve changed my mind. Believing in coincidences might get us killed. I’m thinking we should figure the worst.”
“Me, too,” Mandi says, her voice shaking as though she is standing on a block of ice, barefoot.
“I don’t disagree.” Sharon walks over to Roma and places three fingers against his neck. She pokes about until, I assume, she finds a pulse. She seems satisfied. “Okay. Matt, get my pack.”
Matt is already ahead of her, setting it next to her almost as she speaks. When he zips it open I get my first look inside of it. Spandex pockets line the sides and back, each bulging with a bottle, or tool, or an animal doctor item of some sort.
Sharon carefully fills a syringe, feels about Roma’s neck again and then pushes the needle in. When the syringe is empty the two of them go to Vadik and repeat the procedure. When finished they reorganize the pack and we all sit on the ground in a circle. We wait.
“You should have gone back to school,” I say to Matt.
He shakes his head. “It would have been a waste. I wouldn’t have learned anything and probably would have flunked out.”
“He was also in recovery from his gun shots, and couldn’t leave me alone,” Sharon says. “He’ll go back this fall. I have to admit, I don’t think I would have made it without him.”
“Nor me without Mom,” Matt adds.
“I don’t know if you know it or not, but we were in the middle of building a veterinary hospital when . . .” The memory forces her to close her eyes for a few seconds. “. . . when Brian was killed.”
“Yeah, Dad told me.”
“I couldn’t finish it; wouldn’t have finished it if not for Matt. We opened for business on the first day of December.” She reaches over and takes his hand. “As far as I’m concerned, the business is his. It’s just waiting for him to finish his degree. I’m just a temporary around there.”
“No, Mom.”
“My heart’s not in it anymore.” Matt starts to argue but she talks over him. “Do you know how hard it would have been for me to walk away from my practice a year ago to go hiking in the mountains on this crazy adventure? I wouldn’t have; period! This morning I didn’t even think twice about canceling appointments. My dedication is gone.”
“It’ll come back!” Matt blurts in. “It’ll take some time.”
“Yeah, yeah; when cows fly. And when my husband’s murderers are brought to justice.”
“They’re dead,” I remind her.
“How do you know? They were never found, dead or alive. As far as I know Lester’s buddy, Sarge, is one of them.”
I shake my head. “They were both killed by the sabre-toothed cats. I know. I saw it happen.”
She looks at Matt. “That isn’t what you told me. You said you guys escaped from them by fleeing into the mountains, that you never saw them again.”
Matt opens his mouth, but I jump in first. “He had just watched his dad get murdered. We had all we could do to keep him with us. He was a mess. Still, even if he was completely aware, he wouldn’t have seen it or known that I did. I’m . . .” I stop to wet my dry lips, to consider my words.
“I know what you are, but my impression is that you weren’t able to get into the cats’ minds until later. Is that right?”
“Yes. Sam passed it to me somehow, I think, just before she died, a day and a half later.”
“Then what are you trying to tell me?”
What difference does it make if she knows, if Matt knows? They already know I talk to sabre-toothed cats. What does another piece of weirdness matter?
“She’s a psychic freak!” Mandi proclaims.
I stare at her, wide-eyed. She glares back with a smirk. I stop myself from jumping in and doing a Rotor Rooter on her brain. Instead, I turn my face back to Sharon. “She’s right. I’m a psychic freak. What you’ve seen me do with these cats is only a part my ability.”
“Really,” She says as though she’s not surprised.
“I see death seconds or minutes before it actually happens.”
“You see it? What do you mean?”
“In my head. It plays like a movie. When we were being chased I saw one of the cats literally bite the head of off one of the men that shot your husband. It was a full minute later before it actually happened. We heard the scream.”
“I remember that,” Matt says. “I didn’t understand it, and forgot it.”
“Yeah, well, it happened twice. I saw them both killed. It wasn’t pleasant.”
“You didn’t tell the FBI?” Sharon says.
I laugh. “Yeah, right. And you believe me?”
She sits back and thinks about that for a second. “Actually, yes. Maybe because you’ve already demonstrated the unbelievable to me. Your credibility is sound. But I do see why the FBI wouldn’t have taken you seriously. Stupid of me to think otherwise.”
“That isn’t all of her freakiness,” Mandi adds.
I snap my eyes back to hers. “What the hell is your problem?”
“You’re my problem, Rebecca. You’ve been my problem ever since you decided you had to go in and see your mother’s plaque. All of this shit is because of that. You were weird before. Now you’re a super freak. You’re turning into a sabre-toothed cat. It’s scary just to be around you.” She turns to Sharon. “You should have seen what she did after you guys left to walk around the meadow.”
“What did she do?” Sharon asks. I see no point in trying to stop her.
“She jumped into the air and grabbed a bird as it was flying by. For a second I thought she was going to try to eat it. It was freaky.”
Sharon looks at me. “Really?”
I nod. “It was . . . there’s no better word for it . . . freaky. Even to me. I let it go, though. I didn’t harm it.”
“After I begged her to let it go,” Mandi corrects. “I don’t know if she would have.”
“I would have. I’m not a barbarian.”
“Couldn’t prove it by me.”
“I didn’t ask you to come with me.”
“What else was I supposed to do? I was your friend, your only friend by the way.”
“Apparently that has changed,” I point out.
“You’ve changed. You’ve turned into a jealous freak.”
I jump up. “Jealous! What do you mea—?”
“Hey! Stop it!” Sharon yells.
Mandi and I cease our words, but continue to glare at each other.
“We’ve got other problems right now without infighting. What the hell is wrong with you two? You’re like a couple of siblings.”
“I can’t help what I am,” I say.
“Yeah, but you could control it a little,” Mandi says.
Sharon surges to her feet in between us. “Stop it! Now!” She looks at Mandi. “What is it besides the obvious that you’re afraid of?”
That shuts Mandi up, and then, as the seconds tick by, I feel her fear, and I recognize it as my own. Sharon looks slowly between us, and then at Matt, who is completely in the dark. Her face changes and she suppresses a smile.
A mother knows, I’ve heard it said. Two women are fighting over her son, and she knows. Her voice becomes soft. “This isn’t the place for this, and especially not the time. Put it away.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay,” Mandi says. I don’t know if she knows what she is putting away, but her dagger-look relaxes.
“Good. Now let’s worr
y about getting out of here before the bad guys arrive.”
There is suddenly a growl and a hiss. We all turn to find Roma on his feet, glaring at us, not looking too happy. He hisses again, and charges at Mandi.
Chapter 32
“No!” I cover the five feet to Mandi, frozen where she stands, much faster than Roma does his fifteen feet, and hit Mandi hard with my shoulder, knocking her ass over teakettle, as my grandmother used to say. A half split second later, as I turn toward him, Roma hits me straight on. What I have learned over the last couple of hours is that in addition to an increased metabolism, I have gained a high level of stamina and strength, plus a super, cat-like reflex. I do not, however, enjoy thicker skin or stronger bones. Roma could hurt me or kill me with just a twitch of the claws in one of his massive paws, or a misguided swipe with one of his sabres, a fact that I completely understand in the first spit second.
What can only be pure feline survival instinct fires as I go flat on my back underneath the big cat. I leverage the momentum of his massive weight, counting on him being still off balance from the drug, and send him over and past me, the second ass over teakettle in under three seconds. I do a back flip, twist and rotate in the air, coming to a three point landing, muscles tensed, eyes watching for his. He struggles to wobbly feet, and tries to understand what is going on. He sways and I reach into his mind.
No, Roma. Be still. It is me, Reba. I can’t believe that I was not aware of him waking up, too involved in my own little cat fight. It is okay, Roma. I send him soothing pictures of Nadia and the kittens, fairly certain that he is the father. He is the undisputed leader of the group so it only seems logical that he would have mating rights to the only female. He relaxes and then I relax. I walk to him and scratch him behind his ear. “How’re you feeling, big guy?” He presses his head against me and I stumble back several steps.
“Apology accepted.” I look around. Matt is helping Mandi to her feet. She glares at me, the fact that I saved her life lost in her anger. Did I force her to come with me? Did I even beg her to come with me? I don’t recall so! She came by her own choice, knowing who . . . what I was. I have enough to feel sorry for; I sure don’t need her shit. She’s throwing herself at Matt and now she’s angry with me. What the hell is that all about? I’m the one who should be angry.
Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 105