“How did you know where I was?” she asked.
“When I didn’t hear from you after I called, I phoned Zoe. Figured she’d know if you were ignoring me. When she told me you were clear across the country at some abandoned ski resort, I couldn’t believe it. She gave me the landline number and I called a few times.”
Alex looked toward the phone. “It doesn’t have voicemail or an answering machine.”
“Tell me about it. It just rang and rang.”
“I was probably out in the field,” she told him.
“I did an address lookup for it, and here I am. I was worried about you, after seeing news of that shooting. Zoe said you were right there when it happened.” He touched her hand affectionately, his eyes soft and caring now.
She swallowed nervously, the memory of that afternoon still fresh. “I was. It was scary.”
“And someone killed the guy?”
She nodded. “I don’t think they’ve caught the other gunman. To tell you the truth, if it hadn’t been for that person, I would be dead.”
He leaned forward and took both her hands, stroking them.
She looked down, watching his tanned hands on hers. Her heart still hammered at the thought of that afternoon, the exposed feeling of being pressed down in the mud, waiting for a bullet to tear through her. She forced herself to take a deep breath, then leaned forward. “Why are you here, Brad?”
He lit up and released her hands, gesturing excitedly. “I secured an amazing opportunity for you. Something that’s going to fix everything for us. It means you can do what you want to do, and I can stay doing what I love, too.” He leaned over and kissed her, the familiar touch of his lips causing nostalgia to well up inside her.
When he pulled away, she waited, curious.
He went on. “You know Bill Crofton.”
She nodded. “Sure. I remember him.” He was a zoologist she’d met at a conference earlier that year in Boston.
“He was just hired as director of the Boston City Zoo. One of my law partners is his sister-in-law. She told me they need someone there to oversee the bear and wolf habitats, so I got a meeting with Bill and talked to him about you. Gave him your résumé and talked about your passion for wildlife. He remembered meeting you, and agreed on the spot that you could have the job if you wanted it.”
Alex leaned back in her chair, stunned. A zoo? She wanted to be out in the wild, working to restore living, breathing ecosystems, not working in a place where unhappy animals were imprisoned for the entertainment of humans.
“Isn’t it perfect?” he said, leaning forward and taking her hands again. “This means we can stay together.”
Alex felt numb, not sure what to say. From his excitement, she could tell he really thought she’d be into this. It meant he hadn’t really listened to her at all, and her heart sank.
“You don’t look happy. C’mon! This is an amazing opportunity! Just think of all the species you could work with. You could make a real difference there.”
“How?”
Some of the twinkle went out of his eyes. “By educating the public about conservation.”
“That’s not really the kind of difference I’m looking to make. I want to be out here, in the field, ensuring a safe environment for creatures in their native habitats.”
Brad clearly saw now that she wasn’t thrilled and let go of her hands. With a martyred look that said he had to tap fathomless depths of patience to deal with her, he leaned back in his chair. “I can’t believe you. This is a great chance.”
“You’re right. It would be an amazing opportunity for someone who wanted to work in education. There are good people who work in places like the San Diego Zoo Safari Park, creating a safe habitat for animals that are almost extinct in the wild.”
“They also re-release condors there.”
She nodded. “I know. And it’s important work. But that’s not the Boston City Zoo. That’s a place where people go to be entertained. Maybe a handful of people might leave there with a desire to help with conservation, but most people just want to stare at the elephants.”
“You’re a misanthrope. You know that, right?”
She looked down. “Yes, I do know that.” She tried to reach across to him, but he pulled his hands away. “Zoo work can be meaningful when it leads to reintroduction, but that’s not this place. Working there just wouldn’t be right for me.”
He pushed his coffee away in disgust. “That’s right. Because you’d rather be in the middle of bumfuck nowhere where you don’t have to deal with anyone at all. Well, guess what, Alex, I have to deal with people in my profession. And you know what? I like to deal with people. I’m normal that way.”
His words stung, and she knew he meant them to.
“It’s not that I don’t like to be around people,” she said, though sometimes that was exactly the case. “It’s that to do this work I’m passionate about, it means traveling to these remote places. It’s not like endangered species live in the heart of the Theater District of New York City.”
“They live in zoos in the heart of cities.”
He was being stubborn and not listening, but she pressed on. “You know that’s not where they’re meant to be. They’re pushed and relegated to these remote places because humanity has driven them out.”
“Right, right.” He stood up suddenly, his wooden chair squeaking on the floor. “Evil humanity.”
Now this conversation was really going nowhere. Brad believed that inventions like art, music, law, and architecture were the most important things in the world. He believed that these inventions justified the way humanity treated the planet. He wasn’t rejoicing at species extinction, but it simply didn’t bother him that much. Not when humanity built such amazing cities so full of activities and varied interests and culture. Things like anthropogenic climate change and species extinction were outside Brad’s personal little bubble, and therefore something he didn’t think about much. Of course, when coastal cities like Boston started flooding because of rising sea levels, it was going to intrude on his personal bubble. But for now the world of his law firm simply didn’t contain things like wolverines and vanishing iconic species like the grizzly bear or the wolf.
Zoe had asked Alex once why she kept dating Brad when he had grown so different. But the sad truth was that most people were like Brad, and if she was going to date anyone at all, chances were this would be a point of friction with them, too. And besides, she’d told Zoe at the time, regardless of their differences, she had loved Brad since their first meeting in college.
He walked away angrily, putting a foot up on the stone bench in front of the massive fireplace. “I can’t believe I came all this way and you won’t even consider it.”
She rubbed her face. She was exhausted and had to be up in an hour to join search and rescue.
Just then the phone rang. She moved to it. At this late hour, it could only be the sheriff with news of the FLIR search.
“Who can that be?” Brad demanded. “Are you already seeing someone else?”
She held up her hand to signal she’d just be a minute. “Hello?”
“It’s Makepeace. They didn’t find anything on FLIR.”
Disappointment weighed down on her. “So the ground search is still on?”
“Yep. We got two dogs, five pros, and fifteen volunteers.”
“Plus me.”
“Sixteen volunteers, then. See you in an hour.”
Yes, he was definitely back to his old, curt self, she thought as he hung up without saying goodbye. After all, rest can do miracles to restore oneself.
When she replaced the receiver, Brad said, “What was that all about? What ground search?”
She told him about the man she’d found on the mountain. “I’m going up there with search and rescue today.”
He stared at her. “Unbelievable. I just got here.”
“I didn’t know you were coming. I’m sorry. I have to get ready.”
He e
xhaled angrily. “Fine. I’m taking a shower.” He glanced around. “You do have running water here, don’t you?”
“There are working bathrooms in the first two rooms on your left up there.”
He turned and grabbed a small suitcase, then stormed up the stairs.
She dressed quickly and made an omelet and tea, deciding to eat outside on the expansive deck. The chill of the early-morning air was intense, sapping her omelet of its heat almost immediately. She stayed out anyway, sipping tea as the sun emerged from behind a peak. Scattered clouds turned gold and then white as the sun slowly climbed above the mountain.
She spotted a pile of cinder blocks against one wall of the lodge and hefted one inside. She placed it in front of the window with the broken latch. It opened in, so hopefully the cinder block would temporarily block it until she could go into town for a replacement lock.
As six a.m. approached, she filled her daypack with two sandwiches, her water filter and bottle, a compass, a map, the GPS unit, her pocketknife, and the packet of moleskin. Then she added her rain gear and a warm hat.
She heard movement on the stairs and looked up to see Brad descending, dressed in fresh black slacks and a blue button-down shirt. “I don’t see why you have to go on this rescue mission,” he said as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
She walked to him and took his hands, wanting to dispel the tension from their fight. “I know. But I was the one who found him. I want to take them to the spot where I last saw him.”
“They’re professionals, Alex. They don’t need you out there.”
“Then let’s just say it’s for my own peace of mind. I have to know they searched in the right place, in the exact spot. I want to be sure the dogs are in the right spot to catch his scent.”
“You took a GPS point, right?”
“Yes, but you know that has at least a nine-foot inaccuracy.”
He sighed. “I think you should leave it to the professionals.”
“I am. I just want to lend a helping hand. In fact, they can use all the hands they can get.”
He stepped back. “Well, don’t look at me. I don’t know squat about search and rescue. I’d just be a liability out there. Besides, I didn’t exactly get time off to come out here. I have to work remotely.”
She winced. “I hope you don’t need internet for that.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you telling me this place doesn’t even have Wi-Fi?”
“Sorry. There’s a pub in the nearest town that has it, though they won’t be open yet. But it’s the first town to the east of here—Bitterroot.”
“Great.” He marched to where he’d left his laptop the night before and slung it over one shoulder. “Guess I’m heading to Bitterroot for the day. That sounds inviting.”
“Here,” she said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out the spare key to the lodge and handed it to him. “In case you’re back before me.”
He took it from her, then paused to face her. “Will you at least think about the zoo offer?”
She nodded. “I will.”
He looked at his watch. “Damn. It’s almost eight a.m. in Boston. How far is this town?”
“About twenty-six miles.”
He stared at her in disbelief, then hurried out the door. She heard his rental car start up, and he roared away down the drive.
A few minutes later she heard cars arriving. The search and rescue team was here. She pushed aside the stress of seeing Brad, and got ready to throw herself into the search.
During the last hours of daylight, Alex watched the helicopter go by for another sweep, everyone breaking for the day. They had found absolutely no trace of the injured man. The dogs had picked up his scent where Alex had left him, but they couldn’t find a trail. She couldn’t understand it.
Not feeling like dealing with Makepeace, she suggested the sheriff go back to the lodge and his car without her. She wanted to check out a nearby camera trap, anyway. He grunted his agreement and left without even glancing over his shoulder at her. She watched him start down, then headed in the opposite direction.
There was still a little light left, and she figured she might as well take advantage of all the elevation she’d gained by hiking up to this place.
The trap was still intact, she saw with relief. Ten of the hair clips had been triggered, with strands of dark and light brown fur. She collected them into labeled envelopes and traded out the memory card and batteries on the camera.
She thought back to the destroyed trap and missing camera. She’d told the sheriff about it, but he had been more interested in checking and rechecking the cleaning instructions on the band inside of his hat.
Resetting all the hair clips, she stepped back, admiring the setup. There was still enough bait left, so she left the trap. She had just enough time to hike out in relative light. As she moved away from the camera trap, the hint of a sound carried to her on the breeze. A voice, maybe. She stopped, listening. The wind shifted through the trees above her. A pinecone fell with a thump to her left and branches creaked. Then she heard it again, a strange sort of mewling growl. Not the injured man or even a cat or bear or wolf, but something different. The strange growl sounded almost strangled, a low rumbling in a throat. It wasn’t an aggressive kind of growl, more like a frustrated one.
She knew the sound of an animal in distress.
Tentatively she moved toward the noise, passing through a dense copse of lodgepole pines. She climbed a small rise and on the other side, in another cluster of pines, stood a small wooden box with a lid. It was a live trap. Hewn out of rough-cut logs, it measured about three feet long and two feet high. A thick metal cable, wrapped several times around the trunk of the tree behind it, extended down to an eyebolt in the lid.
Inside the box, she could hear something growling and pacing and tearing at the sides of the walls. From the unusual sounds, she was pretty sure it was a wolverine.
She approached the trap, examining its construction. A heavy latch had swung down and locked into place as soon as the lid had slammed shut. From this close, Alex could smell the musky scent of the wolverine and something else—blood and rotting meat, likely whatever bait the trapper had used.
Anger flushed through her. Someone most assuredly was up here poaching. The wolverine desperately scratched against the walls, and she could see its sharp claws breaking through the tiny spaces between the logs. But the trap was well constructed, and the wolverine wasn’t going to get out on its own, at least not anytime soon.
It erupted into a frustrated and angry series of yowls, hisses, and guttural grunts.
Alex’s gaze traveled up the cable to where it was wrapped around the tree. A sturdy branch jutted out where the poacher had wrapped the wire. She could climb up there and then pull the lid off while still in the tree.
Taking a long moment to listen for any signs of human movement, Alex wondered if the poacher had hung out in the area, or if he’d constructed other traps like this one that he might be checking on. Straining to hear above the wind and the exceedingly unhappy wolverine, she made out no other unusual sounds.
Reaching out, she unlatched the locking mechanism. When she drew that close, the wolverine paused momentarily. She could hear it sniffing. Then its angry pacing started again. She stepped away. Gripping the lowest branch of the tree, she hefted herself up, hooking her boot around it. The rough bark pressed into her palms as she climbed higher, resin sticking to her skin.
She reached the sturdy branch and stood up on it. Sudden scrabbling in the tree next to her made her heart jump. She snapped her head in that direction, seeing branches there swaying. She waited, holding her breath, watching torn-off pieces of bark sift down to the ground. Movement in the pine needles attracted her attention a little higher up, and there she spied the source of the noise.
Two smaller wolverines clung to branches up there, huddled together. Alex guessed they’d been born that spring. Kits were born white, in snowy dens excavated by their mothers
, but these were already the tan, gold, and dark brown of an adult wolverine, though decidedly smaller.
Despite the dire situation, she couldn’t help but grin at the sight of them. Their fuzzy brown faces, framed with golden fur around their eyes, peered at her, beady black gazes watching her intently. She had no doubt it was their parent in the trap. She’d read before that wolverines would wait outside a trap for a captured mate, too.
Gripping the cable, she pulled it toward her. The angle was awkward and the lid was too tight a fit. At first she didn’t think she’d be able to lift it up from her position, that she’d have to heft open the lid from the ground. Pulling with one hand and pounding the wire with her other fist, she finally managed to budge the lid. The wolverine’s growls grew more frenzied. One last tug almost sent her out of the tree, but she hoisted up the heavy lid. The wolverine didn’t leap out right away. It stuck its head out, cautiously taking in its surroundings, then finally surged out.
She released the wire slowly so the trap wouldn’t slam. The wolverine sprinted away, then stopped, turning back toward her. She marveled at the sight—its tan and brown coat, the golden ruff at its chest, the muscular body and flattened skull with two dark, beady eyes fixed directly on her.
She sat down on the branch to look less threatening, giving herself a smaller profile, and glanced over at the neighboring tree.
A few minutes later, the two wolverine juveniles climbed down, their claws sending bark drifting to the forest floor.
She knew that they could stay with the mother for as long as two years. The father would stop by as they grew up, teaching them how to hunt, how to use the forest to survive. In one case she’d read about, a juvenile wolverine in Idaho in the 1990s was struggling to survive after losing her mother and sibling. She lived off bait raided from live traps placed out by researchers. Then suddenly she was spotted with an older male wolverine, who spent days at a time with her, teaching her where to find food. Researchers believed it to be her father. An affectionate father-child relationship in carnivore species was almost unheard of. But wolverines were an exception, and later DNA studies of wolverines proved that indeed, fathers looked after their young.
A Solitude of Wolverines Page 13