Silent Prey

by TM Simmons

  "The young girl I found — your niece," Keoman said, "was from Ely, a hundred miles away. Why was she found here, when the other two children were found close to their homes?"

  Keoman's gaze joined that of the two women's when they looked toward Grant in question. The agent stuck his fingertips in the back pockets of his jeans.

  "I'm not involved in the department that tracks serial killers." When Channing gasped beside him, he rubbed a soothing hand on her back. "But I've had overall training in most aspects of what we handle. I've even done some profiling, although it's been geared toward trying to pin down the type of supernatural being we want to eliminate at the time."

  He paused and frowned.

  "And?" Keoman prodded.

  Grant looked at each face briefly, then settled on Keoman. "I don't know how much I should say. Not that I'd be revealing confidential information, given the area I work in. But some stuff can get pretty vile, hard to handle. And once it's put into words, it won't be easy to forget."

  A soft snore sounded, and Keoman rescued Nodinens' coffee cup before it spilled on the afghan covering her. He set the cup on the coffee table, then looked back at Grant.

  "If you want, we can talk alone."

  "No," Channing said. "Please. I can handle it, Grant. Tell us why you think Keoman found that little girl here, a hundred miles from home."

  Keoman watched her shoulders stiffen as she stared at Grant. There appeared to be a moment of silent communication between them before the agent spoke again.

  "People who do despicable things like this escalate over time," he said. "They believe they're smarter than the people trying to stop them. But profilers think most of them have a subconscious desire to be stopped. Those still have a tiny bit of conscience that tells them what they're doing is wrong."

  "You said 'most,'" Keoman pointed out.

  "Yeah," Grant responded. "The other type — thankfully they're in the minority — are total psychopaths. They have absolutely no conscience. They don't believe they're doing anything immoral when they satisfy their dark desires. They eventually like to flaunt what they've done in the faces of authority."

  "Maybe the bastard deliberately brought that little girl down here and left her," Channing said."

  "In our case, which one do you think we have?" Keoman asked.

  "I haven't delved into things enough yet to make that decision."

  "There's another option," Channing said quietly. "Maybe there was only one child molested — the one Keoman found. Maybe Nenegean has been active for longer than just what we've seen of her the past couple days. Maybe she took those other children, also, and left them when they died of exposure. Nodinens said both those deaths happened a few months apart, and some time ago. It would have also been winter. I would think a child …."

  Channing's words trailed off, and Grant squatted beside her. "Don't, honey. You don't have to put yourself through this."

  "I do, Grant. I have to help."

  Grant took her hand. "We worked through this, remember? Through our guilt. Even if our marriage didn't survive, we've been able to get on with our lives."

  "Yes," Channing agreed. "And that's not what this is about. It's about possibly two monsters that need to be contained and stopped before they hurt more children."

  She asked Keoman, "Were the two other children autopsied?"

  "I don't know," he replied. "This is the first I've heard of this. But I'll find out. We're going to need to bring Hjak and Gagewin in on this. And it's going to be really hard on Gagewin."

  "As well as Sandy and Walt," Channing added.

  "Who?" Grant asked.

  Keoman explained, "Gagewin is our tribal chairman. Lark, the first child Nenegean took, is his granddaughter. Sandy and Walt are Lark's parents."

  "Oh." Channing faced Grant. "You don't know. While you were on your way here, another child was taken. The nephew of Annalise, the woman who owns the B&B I stayed at when I first arrived. Annalise's sister-in-law and nephew came here after Yancy was killed the night I checked in."

  "Yancy was …?" Grant asked.

  "Annalise's husband," Channing supplied.

  "Murdered?" Grant asked, and when Channing admitted she didn't know, he continued in a sympathetic tone, "I'm sure you were an emotional wreck. I'm so sorry you had to go through something like that, especially if it turns out to be murder."

  "Our sheriff, Hjak, is treating it as an open case," Keoman explained. "So his detective has split investigations on his hands."

  "I would think your small department here is stretched fairly thin," Grant said.

  "They'll be glad to have someone with your experience to help out," Keoman said, swallowing another stab of jealousy. He had hoped the short conversation between him and Channing earlier that night might be the start of something, but there was no way he could miss the interaction between her and her ex-husband. There were still feelings flowing between the two of them. He just couldn't decide whether they indicated only a friendship formed after their deeper relationship fell apart, or something they might want to try to rebuild.

  He didn't have time to worry about that now, though. A lightening beyond the rear windows on Channing's cabin indicated approaching dawn. Another day wouldn’t be held back. They had to find where Nenegean had taken their children, as well as protect any others she might try to steal.

  "Your people know they need to keep a close watch on their little ones, don't they?" Grant asked.

  Keoman clenched his fists and snapped, "They know they have to try. But Nenegean isn't afraid of the parents. She stole both the little girl and boy right in front of a parent." He paused and heaved a sigh as he glanced outside, relaxing his fists. "And since it's getting daylight, we'll be sending out search parties to see if we can find Nenegean's hiding place. It's the first step in defeating her, as well as, hopefully, rescuing the children."

  Nodinens' eyes flickered. "You will need me."

  "You should rest," Keoman said.

  "Tell me you don't need me, and I will," Nodinens challenged.

  He picked up her hand. "We need you, Grandmother. But you have to stay healthy, or you won't be able to help."

  "I understand, Keoman." She scooted up on the sofa, and Keoman hurriedly propped another cushion behind her back. "I will try to weigh how much physical effort I have to give, and try to mostly use my mind and computer. There are a few satellite phones available among the tribal members. We will make use of those and those long-range walkie-talkies. Plus I will get our sheriff the information on the families of the other two children from my phone."

  "Sounds to me like you're someone who will be of immense benefit to this search," Grant said. "I hope you'll let me work with you, also."

  "Indeed, Mr. FBI man," Nodinens responded. "I believe it is going to take all our efforts and minds to overcome what is going on here. Both as to Nenegean and whoever is harming our children."

  Chapter 21

  When Channing accompanied Nodinens to the office so the elderly woman could get back to her computer research, Nurse PawPaw and Daisy waited among the people gathered there. After Nodinens sat at her desk, Channing approached them and asked, "Can we talk a minute?"

  "Of course." Nurse PawPaw led Channing and Daisy to a quiet corner. Before Channing could speak, PawPaw said, "I know you have to be torn between the clinic and being close to the search, in case someone else is injured."

  "That's what I wanted to talk to you both about," Channing confirmed.

  "Nurse PawPaw can handle the clinic, unless a severe illness or injury comes in," Daisy assured her. "Gagewin has already collected a list of the satellite phone numbers from the tribal members in the various search parties. We'll be able to contact you, if necessary."

  "I won't be overstepping my medical or legal boundaries," PawPaw assured her. "I'm well aware of what I'm permitted to do."

  "I already know you well enough to understand you're a valuable asset to the clinic, PawPaw," Channing said. "An
d you, also, Daisy. I can't tell you how much that helps my stress level."

  Nurse PawPaw shooed Channing. "Go. We've got the after-hours phone forwarded to my cell, and we'll have the clinic open in time for the first appointment."

  Channing hugged both women before she walked back to where Nodinens worked diligently. She stayed in the background, listening to the reports to the search effort organizers.

  "There is no way to reduce the land we must comb through," Nodinens was saying. "I would suggest you take those best at sensing that which others cannot —" She glanced at Keoman. "Everyone. Then follow what they sense."

  Sitting on a chair to the right of Nodinens, red eyes in his ravaged face, Gagewin said, "Is there any possible way to narrow down the area, Grandmother? Our people have stayed away from where Nenegean roamed all those years ago. All we really know is what the storytellers passed down to us."

  Nodinens clicked her mouse and the laptop screen separated. She pointed at one side and traced a circle with her index finger. "This is where the cabin had to have been located. It is at least five miles of land, the entire east side of the lake."

  She moved her finger to the opposite side of the screen. "This is a landscape map I was able to get from Google Earth. I printed out a copy."

  Nodinens removed a letter-size piece of paper from a desk drawer. Channing stepped closer and saw the same colored map as on the computer screen, but with several notations scattered on it. Nodinens tapped the various spots as she spoke.

  "This land is full of caves. I have marked some of the larger ones, ones I was able to find the location of from older records. White men's records. They mined for copper, but there was very little of that once the main seam ran out. They probably never heard of Nenegean."

  She laid her finger on a large X. "This was the original copper mine. You should check it, but it was not even in existence when Nenegean lived."

  As Nodinens sighed, someone came in from outside.

  "I am not even positive the cabin was on the east side of that lake," Nodinens continued as she turned toward the door. "Hello, Caleb."

  Channing recognized Caleb McCoy, who had been with the group in Nodinens' pickup yesterday when they talked to Grant. Caleb had been involved in another hunt for a supernatural entity: a windigo that cannibalized tribal members. Adults, not children, but her stomach still roiled at the thought of what the beast had done.

  Caleb carried what appeared to be a laptop satchel, which he laid on the desk and removed a file folder from.

  "Maybe I can help." Caleb opened the folder and spread out some papers. "I believe you're right about it being the east side of the lake. And actually, the mine company put a name on the lake: Lake Phantom. It made me wonder if they hadn't heard some of the tales."

  "Perhaps," Nodinens said. "Some of our tribe worked for the mining company. However, I checked my genealogy charts, and each one of them has already crossed into the ancestor land."

  "The mining wasn't actually that long ago, just back in the 1950's," Caleb went on after Nodinens fell silent. "And I was a little luckier than you, Nodinens. I found a white man who worked for them, Carl Edwards. His mind is still sharp, and he recalled some things he and other men talked about on their breaks. He said one of the Native American men quit when there was talk of a new mine shaft being sunk in a different area. Carl ran into the man — he doesn't recall his name — in a bar one night. They got to talking, and the man said the new shaft would be too close to where something had happened to some children many years ago."

  Nodinens frowned. "How does that help us find where Nenegean lived?"

  "Well, as I said, it confirms it was on the east side of the lake. And I did locate an old rendering of where the new shaft was proposed to be. I had to wake up the Records Department clerk before daybreak and have her help me. They never sank the new shaft, but they had gone ahead and leased the mineral rights from the government. It was, and still is, government property."

  "Show us the area you're talking about, Caleb," Keoman said. "We'll organize a grid and send out our search parties."

  Channing wandered back to the coffeepot while the men and Nodinens discussed their strategy. She poured a cup heavy with creamer and took a blueberry muffin from a box. She wasn't hungry, but she needed to eat to keep up her stamina. As she picked at the muffin and sipped her coffee, she pondered her own part in this.

  She would need to go back to her cabin and pick up the medical bag she had prepared at the clinic when she thought she'd be making house calls. For now, she had to wait until someone told her which search party she would be part of. And waiting wasn't what she wanted to do; she would rather be busy. Down-time gave her mind far too much freedom.

  Grant had been right to worry about how she was doing. Not that this was similar to what happened to their beloved Rose. Her and Grant's daughter had drowned, due partly to negligence from them both. It was the connection to children that upset her whenever she didn't keep her thoughts centered elsewhere. Her counselor had told her that she needed to be able to handle caring for other women's children after losing her own; otherwise, she might need to give up her practice or find another area of medicine to work in. Indeed, it had taken her several months before she re-opened her office.

  After the first couple weeks, it wasn't the days at her office that distressed her. She and Grant had already split by then, and the evenings and nights in the surroundings where she had lost her child continued to be abysmally lonely and filled with frequent nightmares. She had hoped a change of scenery, some distance, would give her more peace. It hadn't bothered her that much to leave Rose's grave. She knew in her heart it was only Rose's body in that tiny white coffin. The soul, the spirit of her mischievously full-of-life child, was gone. Channing would return to Texas as often as she could, and cherish her memories the rest of the time.

  But her wanderings had landed her in the middle of a situation where she dealt with other women, and also men, who were soul-sick over losing a child. She couldn't walk out on them right now, not with Dr. Silver still needing to recuperate. However, each time this evil entity took another child, it tore her up inside. Brought back her own terrible feelings of loss when she watched another woman collapse in pain.

  "You don't have to go out with us," Keoman said.

  His voice so near when she had thought herself alone startled her. She whirled, and coffee slopped on her hand.

  "Ouch," she murmured, before she realized the coffee had cooled enough not to burn.

  Keoman set her cup on the table and grabbed a napkin to wipe at the coffee as he held her hand in his own.

  "It really wasn't that hot," she assured her, although she allowed him to continue his task. Physical connections to another person were rare for her these days, and she gave herself permission to enjoy this one for a moment. "I just reacted as though it would be."

  "That happens sometimes," Keoman agreed. "We react a split second before realization sets in."

  He tossed the napkin in the trash and released her hand. "I came over because your expression seemed to indicate you needed someone right now. Grant went outside with Gagewin to get an idea of the layout of the land around us. He said he got a better feel for things when he was in the open."

  "He's always been like that," Channing concurred, picking her coffee cup back up. "He's an outdoor person. He turned down an upgrade once because it would have tied him to the office too much."

  "How long were you two married?" Keoman asked.

  "Eight years. We actually knew each other in high school, although he was a grade ahead of me. We met again when he was sent back to Texas on a case."

  Keoman raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his brown eyes. "You have paranormal monsters in Texas, also?"

  She chuckled, and it released a bit of tension, although it wasn't really a funny subject. "We have lots of that type of lore and rumor in Texas. Most of it is, as Grant calls it, debunkable human hysteria. But yes, I'm in the same cam
p as he is about the infrequent times one of these things is real."

  "And that is?"

  Grimly, she told him, "To do everything possible to send it somewhere it can't ever hurt anyone again." She studied him for a moment. "Native Americans have always lived closely to their beliefs in things most people never even think about. Yours is a lot more developed system than even biblical religious tenets."

  "If you think about it, our culture is a lot older than many of the white people's religions. Our system of beliefs has remained strong and pretty much the same down through the ages. Our storytellers kept our creeds alive even before we were able to record them on paper and eventually computerize our history. I imagine if you sat one of our storytellers from a thousand years ago down beside one today, their tales would be pretty much word for word."

  "That's what I understand from my own interests and research. It's amazing."

  "We'll have to talk sometime." Keoman picked up one of the paper cups beside the pot to fill it. "But I also came over to tell you that you're assigned to the same search party as Grant and I will be in. Once we get as close as we can to the lake, we'll be going by snowmobile. Some of our women have brought over a couple sets of heavy clothing they think will fit you."

  "Thank them for me," Channing said. "I hadn't thought about that end of it."

  "Unfortunately, we've had some experience in what we need to do. We've had to make other forays into our wilderness over the years."

  "I hope they were successful," Channing said while she filled her cup once more. As she added the cream and picked up a plastic lid, she realized Keoman hadn't answered her. She looked up to see a glint of pain on his face. "Oh, no. You're getting a migraine."

  He shook his head negatively. "No, not one of those. This is just one of those minor headaches everyone suffers."