by Gwen Moffat
Pearl slipped inside and looked round in silence. Miss Pink stared at the bed which no longer held the hollow made by the big snake. Someone else had been there and left the print of a different shape: long but shallow, and at its head was a carton that had contained chocolate-chip cookies.
‘She must be just ahead of you,’ Miss Pink told Scott. ‘Think back: did you hear anything, like an animal in the undergrowth?’
He laughed. ‘You’re imagining things.’ He indicated the carton. ‘That’s been here days; it was left—’ His face changed. ‘Poachers,’ he spat out. ‘Like that Ramirez. His kind used this cabin.’ He glared at Pearl.
She ignored him. ‘It wasn’t here before?’ she asked.
‘No.’ Miss Pink turned to Scott. ‘Have you seen anything of the others? Kristen and Gafford are about.’
‘I’ve seen no one except Lloyd, he’s somewhere down here. Are you saying you been in this cabin by yourself – before today?’ His eyes bored into hers.
‘This packet wasn’t here two days ago, and someone’s slept on that mattress, a person who doesn’t weigh much.’ She turned to Pearl. ‘It has to be Tammy.’
‘Then she couldn’t have stolen the money, not and got back here in the time; I mean, Tammy’d never walk and climb in the dark, she’s only—’
‘What money?’ Scott interrupted harshly. ‘Who’s stole money?’
‘Last night someone broke into Marge’s place and the Voskers’, stole several hundred dollars.’
‘Not broke in,’ Miss Pink demurred, ‘but entered, certainly.’
‘Who?’ He was vehement.
‘Why, we thought it was Tammy.’
He blinked. ‘We have to find her,’ he muttered. ‘Someone’s about—’ Standing in the doorway now, blocking the light, his eyes were fixed on the mattress. ‘Alone?’ he asked. ‘Was she alone here? Or’ – he stared at Miss Pink – ‘was she with someone? That little kid?’ He turned away and looked at the trees. ‘He’s got her down here,’ he muttered. ‘He can’t get out, he’s trapped.’
‘And her,’ Pearl pointed out. ‘You guessed, didn’t you, Clayton? That’s why you came armed. What made you think a man was involved?’
His gaze returned to her. He looked demented. ‘If you was the father of young girls and one of them was violated … after a time, lying awake there in the dark, when another’s gone missing, you remember, you can’t help but recall the other time, fearing the worst: where is she, who’s she with … ? Is he—’ He turned away again, unable to meet their eyes. They stared at his profile. ‘Last night,’ he went on, ‘I thought, there’s another monster at work in the village. This morning I said it was only my imagination, but I felt it was better to bring my rifle. Men like that should be – they’re like rabid dogs, they infect everything they touch.’ He wiped his mouth with his hand. ‘And now’ – he looked at them almost carelessly and his lips stretched in a thin smile – ‘if I find him with her, I’ll ask questions after I fire.’
‘Now wait a minute,’ Pearl protested. ‘Jay Gafford’s out there, searching, and Fletch, maybe Daryl, any one of ’em coulda found her and be taking her home. You could shoot the wrong guy.’
‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
‘Look! Clayton—’ but he was gone, striding into the woodland as noisy as a bull in the undergrowth. ‘My God,’ Pearl exclaimed. ‘What a mess!’
‘And Tammy’s in there somewhere.’
‘Oh, to hell with him. He doesn’t mean it. He’s thinking about Veronica, not Tammy.’ She ran her fingers over the hollow in the bed. ‘It’s odd about that money all the same; I don’t see how she could have stolen it.’
‘Perhaps a stranger came in from the interstate – oh no, Pedro didn’t bark. Anyway, it’s not important. We have to find Tammy, she can’t be far away.’
‘Where do we start?’
‘We start with the premise that she was here last night. And she’s frightened of snakes, so the gopher wasn’t here, or it left quietly when she approached the cabin, but it came back – when she was asleep? She must have been terrified.’ They were outside now. She peered in the open door. ‘I’ll swear she was here alone; that depression was made by a small, light body. There wasn’t a man—’ Pearl gasped. Miss Pink ignored her and continued to voice her thoughts. ‘Surely she knows we’re here? Maybe not, if she’s in the trees; the sound of running water could drown voices. There’s more noise down here than you’d think: birds, insects … but she doesn’t shout, she’s not trying to attract attention. Is she still hiding, after all this time?’
Now she did address Pearl who said grimly, ‘Maybe she is with someone, and he’s forcing her to keep quiet.’
‘He wouldn’t bring her here. It’s too far.’
‘They do! They take their victims miles into the forest; you don’t know these mountain men: there were two killers in Montana kidnapped a girl out jogging—’
‘I know about that,’ Miss Pink said shortly. ‘Here we have to assume we’ve found Tammy, at least where she was until recently. Now, which way would she go from here?’
‘Scott went upstream, but then he doesn’t know any better than us; he’s only guessing.’
‘It’s the way she’d go. She came downstream to here. And which way did she enter the canyon?’
‘That’s easy. She’d come in from the Markow side; she’s used to riding over her own land.’
‘So I suppose she’d go back the same way if she wanted to get out again.’ But Miss Pink sounded doubtful.
‘Of course she would. Why not?’
‘Yes, well, in which case we’d better follow.’
They looked wryly at the dense undergrowth. ‘At least he’s made a trail,’ Pearl said. ‘More or less.’
‘The thing to do is force our way to the creek and work up its bed. We’ll see tracks too; she has to cross the stream to get back to Markow land.’
Evidently Scott had had the same idea; he had trampled a path through the vegetation to the creek which was quite close. There were the marks of a man’s boot in the fine gravel under the bank and there too, when they looked carefully, were the tracks of a small foot in trainers.
‘You were right,’ Pearl said. ‘Here are prints going down to the cabin and coming back, and here’s a different trainer; that will be Kristen.’
‘So she’s here already. Well, why not? They’d come on here from Scorpion.’
The going was rough with rocky rises and long pools, and fallen timber where they had to make wide detours. Scott was moving faster than them; they were still on his track but there was no sign of him ahead. It was a narrow creek, and the cottonwoods interlaced above their heads so that they moved through chequered sunlight, and visibility was confusing. There was a current of air in the depths and the foliage was in continuous motion, giving the impression that others were keeping pace with them. Despite the proximity of the water – and much of the time they were splashing through it – the air was sticky. Miss Pink was considering whether to leave the creek and look for a passage close under the canyon wall when they heard a scream.
They stopped. It wasn’t one scream but a prelude. Shrieks rose: uninhibited, terrified, startling jays and doves. It was a young girl’s voice. Without a word they plunged up the creek bed only to halt again as a shot rang out, and another.
Pearl moaned and went to leap forward. ‘No!’ Miss Pink hissed, grabbing her wrist and holding on. ‘Wait! Listen.’
Something was hurtling through the woods. Pearl clung to Miss Pink. They heard squealing then, and above the squeals, shouts: ‘Tammy! Tammy!’ The peccaries were racing downstream in the direction of the cabin, and behind them a man continued to shout urgently.
‘That’s Jay,’ Pearl gasped, relinquishing her hold on Miss Pink’s arm. ‘And we found Tammy, thank God! Was that Clayton shooting? Of course, he shot at the pigs. They musta charged him, took him by surprise. He’s trigger-happy.’ She gave a sickly grin. ‘At least we know he didn’t shoot Jay.�
�� She lifted her voice. ‘We’re coming, Clayton, don’t shoot us. Jay! Where are you? Tammy! We’re here!’
Gafford came plunging down the stream bed. ‘Did she come your way?’ he called.
‘We didn’t see her,’ Pearl said. ‘Is she all right?’
He grinned. ‘Not much wrong when she can yell like that.’
‘What’s she got to say for herself?’
‘I didn’t even see her, only heard her. Who’s doing the shooting?’
‘Why, Clayton Scott.’
‘Who was he shooting at?’ Miss Pink asked, adding meaningly, ‘Tammy’s stopped screaming.’
‘He shot her?’ Pearl’s voice rose.
‘No.’ Gafford looked bewildered. ‘I thought the pigs – yes, that had to be it: he shot at the pigs. I was at the foot of the trail there’ – he seemed embarrassed – ‘over there,’ waving vaguely towards the Markow side of the canyon. ‘I’d agreed with Kristy I’d wait there, stop Tammy if she came that way. But those pigs come out of the creek and they didn’t see me till they was right on me. I was sitting quiet and they sees me and they up-tailed and went charging back into the trees and then Tammy starts screaming. I saw the last brutes swerve off the trail and dive into the wood so I knew Tammy had been coming towards me. And then the shooting starts. Clayton – starts – shooting.’ He stared at them. They said nothing. ‘He didn’t hit her,’ he said. ‘I went along the trail. So where did she go? And what happened to him?’
‘There he is,’ Pearl said. ‘Listen! He’s shouting to her.’
Again they heard Tammy’s name being called. Pearl shouted: ‘Clayton, where are you?’
‘That’s not Scott,’ Gafford said.
People converged, guided by voice, but before they met they knew it was Fletcher Lloyd who had been calling. They met on a game trail and Lloyd looked hot and angry and confused. The first thing he wanted to know was who was doing the shooting, and the second: the whereabouts of Tammy. He’d taken up the call himself after he heard Gafford shouting to her. He wasn’t surprised to learn that Scott was armed and, once he was satisfied that Tammy had been frightened only by peccaries, he didn’t seem bothered that she had run away again. ‘She’s tired and hungry,’ he said, ‘and someone starts shooting. I don’t blame her.’
‘He wasn’t shooting at her.’ Pearl was tart. ‘And where did you come from anyway? You weren’t down the canyon or we’d have seen you.’
‘I was upstream. The pigs were running ahead of me. Know what they were doing? They found some plots of grass; they been eating it. It’s ruined.’
‘Why tell me?’ Gafford’s eyes were slitted.
Pearl sighed and started to speak when her eyes focused beyond him. Daryl Harper was coming along the trail from the direction of the creek. He had been coming down into the canyon when he heard the commotion below and thought it prudent to wait until he thought the shooting was over.
‘Why were you coming here?’ Miss Pink asked, when events had been explained to him.
‘Kristen told me to come once I’d finished chores.’
‘That’s right,’ Gafford put in quickly. ‘We’re searching the high country today and it was her said we should come and look at Sam’s old cabin.’
‘And did you?’
‘Did we what, ma’am?’
‘Look in the cabin.’
‘Kristen did.’
‘Was Tammy there?’ Harper asked, while Miss Pink and Pearl exchanged looks; they’d been right about the tracks in the creek bed.
‘If she was in the cabin she’d be with us.’ Gafford was cutting. ‘She musta been in the woods someplace. She’s in the canyon. That was her screaming.’
‘So where is she now?’
Gafford glared at him.
‘And where’s Kristen?’ Pearl asked brightly. ‘Come to that, what happened to Clayton, him and his hair-trigger gun?’
They started to move along the trail in the direction of Midnight Mesa but very soon the path diverged sideways, heading downstream. They took to the undergrowth at a place where it had been trampled by someone ahead of them.
They were working their way round a tangle of brambles when they heard the rifle again. It seemed to come from higher up the canyon but in that place, with people crashing about, they couldn’t be sure of the direction.
‘Did he follow the pigs?’ Pearl wondered, looking downstream. ‘And he’s shooting at them again?’
‘Why would he kill a pig when he’s searching for Tammy?’ Gafford asked. ‘He’s not interested in pigs.’
‘What’s he shooting at then?’
‘Or who,’ murmured Miss Pink, but the men were gone.
‘You’re still thinking she isn’t alone?’ Pearl asked. ‘But who – who could she be with?’
Miss Pink made no response. They moved after the men.
It was very hot and their discomfort was intensified by their emotions. They had lost control. Events were moving of their own volition. It was as if the canyon was no longer background but a participant in the drama, and the people were no more than puppets. As they approached the fringe of the woodland and saw the bright rock wall through the trees, they came on young Harper slumped like a doll against a tree trunk – but his face was rigid. He was staring at something on the ground.
They crept forward and stood beside him. A body lay at the foot of a tree. It was hatless, the hair clotted with blood, the face pressed into blood-soaked grass, a rifle close to his hand. It was Clayton Scott.
Chapter 12
‘He’s alive,’ Pearl whispered. ‘Look.’ The fingers of one hand were curling. They pressed forward.
Lloyd said, ‘There’s someone else around.’ It was a warning.
‘Yeah,’ Harper agreed. ‘He’s been shot in the back of the head, like an execution. Could be the Mafia.’
The women ignored him as they knelt beside Scott. Parting his hair gingerly, feeling the skull, Miss Pink looked up and caught them unawares. Harper and Lloyd were staring at each other, Gafford was studying the skyline, only Pearl was concerned with the injured man. Miss Pink’s eyes fell on two branches lying by the rifle, one branch really, broken in two pieces.
Scott groaned, reclaiming everyone’s attention. The fingers clawed the ground. ‘Can we get a helicopter in here?’ Miss Pink asked generally.
‘They can fly anywhere,’ Harper said. ‘You think he’s going to live?’ He sounded disappointed.
‘He hasn’t been shot, and I can’t feel a fracture. I think he’s just been knocked out, probably by that branch.’
Lloyd picked up the pieces. ‘Who hit him?’
Scott was mumbling. ‘Don’t—’ he said clearly, but the rest was incoherent. He scraped his face on the grass and groaned again.
‘We don’t need a chopper,’ Gafford said. ‘We can’t get a horse down here, but if he’s only knocked out he could maybe walk after a while. Fetch some water, Daryl.’
‘How will I carry it?’
‘In your hat. That’s what they do in the movies.’
Miss Pink looked at him sharply, and then she remembered that this was Kristen’s father, there wasn’t much love lost between Gafford and Scott.
He was trying to raise himself so they propped him against the tree and waited to see if he was going to vomit. After a minute he did, and they got him to his feet and moved him to a more salubrious spot. Harper returned with a little water in his hat and carrying his dripping shirt. Scott stayed on his feet to drink, and Pearl wiped his face but left the scalp alone. Awareness was returning to his eyes as he looked at them in turn, concentrating on Gafford. Miss Pink handed him his hat. He put one foot in front of the other. ‘Rest a while,’ she urged. ‘You had a nasty knock.’
‘I’ll walk out.’ He was still staring at Gafford. ‘But not with him.’
Gafford gave a tight smile.
‘We were all together,’ Miss Pink said.
‘I don’t—’ He stopped. ‘Were you?’ His eyelids drooped a
nd he winced. They edged forward to catch him as he swayed but he put his hand on a tree trunk and after a moment he stiffened and said calmly, ‘You had to’ve seen the guy. Didn’t he come past you?’
‘We’ve seen no one,’ Pearl said. ‘No one else. Who was here? Who attacked you?’
‘I didn’t see. He got me from behind. I knew someone was around and I had my finger on the trigger. I sensed something, a movement – someone behind me, and that’s the last thing I remember, except – there was a noise.’
‘That was your own rifle. You fired a shot.’
‘Did I? Yes, I suppose I would have. I was ready for him but I wasn’t quite quick enough.’ He tried to smile and winced again.
‘We’d better get you to a doctor,’ Miss Pink said. ‘We’ll take it slowly, and once you reach the rim you can ride.’
Gafford stayed in the canyon – they still had to find Tammy – and Harper said he would go as far as the rim and then return to help look for her. The party moved slowly up the scree to the foot of the wall, Lloyd and Harper on either side of Scott, the women following.
‘Who hit him?’ Pearl whispered, holding back.
‘God knows. It’s weird.’
‘You can say that again. And where is the guy? Still in the canyon or up on the rim?’
‘At least he isn’t armed; no one else is doing any shooting.’ But where was Tammy, and why did she keep running? And why was Scott attacked? Because he was searching for Tammy and someone had to stop him finding her?
The wall rose above them, baking in the sun. Miss Pink gave her mind to the climb, thankful that there were two able-bodied men there to assist Scott; she wouldn’t care to be the person shepherding him across those unprotected ledges, or below his heels as he climbed the vertical pitches. She watched from a distance; he seemed to be fully recovered, neither stumbling nor wavering, and apparently unaffected by the heat.
‘Watch it,’ Pearl said, treading on her heels as she stopped. ‘You all right?’
‘I’m fine. I was looking at Scott.’
‘He’s fit for his age.’ The tone was grudging. ‘But I guess he lives a clean life, so far as drink and drugs are concerned anyway. I thought he was dead, all that blood!’