Silent Prey

by TM Simmons

  He stared in the rear view mirror at where the other truck had disappeared. He hadn't had time to notice the driver, and there must have been two or three dozen black pickups in the county. Not a lot with that type of black camper shell, though. Given it was leaving the tribal parking lot, it was probably Radin Paul. He could ask Gagewin in a minute.

  In the lot, he parked beside the red Ford Gagewin drove. No other slots were filled, so they would be alone in the building. No need to close the door and suffer nosy conjecture about what they discussed in private.

  He found the chairman filling his cup at the coffeepot. A box of pastries and sausage and biscuits also sat on the counter, full and untouched.

  "Was that Radin Paul I saw tearing out of the parking lot when I got here?" he asked Gagewin. When the other man avoided his gaze, Keoman fixed himself some coffee. Then, realizing he hadn't even thought about breakfast, he laid a pastry and breakfast sandwich on a paper plate beside the box.

  "Well?" he finally prodded Gagewin.

  He sighed. "Yes, it was Radin."

  Gagewin led the way toward his office, and Keoman followed with his coffee in one hand, the paper plate in the other. He sat in a chair in front of the desk and waited for a few seconds until Gagewin sat down. But the tribal chairman kept quiet at first, staring into his coffee.

  "Are you going to tell me why Radin went tearing out of here?" Keoman asked.

  Gagewin exhaled, his expression a mixture of confusion and uneasiness. "I don't want this to go any further right now."

  "We'll trade confidences, then," Keoman responded. "I need to tell you what Hjak found."

  Gagewin sipped his coffee, and Keoman noticed he hadn't picked up anything to eat. Too bad. Keoman's own stomach was crying foul, given his lack of food and the narcotics he'd downed. He bit off a quarter of his sausage-biscuit and chewed as he waited for Gagewin to speak.

  After a moment, Gagewin said, "Radin and Annalise were having an affair."

  Keoman choked and swallowed some coffee before he could say anything. "Those two? They were close to each other in high school years ago. Annalise never was the type to settle for a tribal life, though."

  "I didn't know her that well until after she married Yancy," Gagewin said. "Since you and Radin have been buddies so long, I knew him a lot better. Or at least, I thought I did. He seems torn up over those kids, too. We were talking about that right before I told him about finding Annalise."

  "He admitted the thing between him and her?"

  "He broke down. I don't think he realized what he was saying at first. Then, when he did, when I went around and put a hand on his shoulder …." Gagewin shook his head. "He knocked me off and tore out of here. I tried to stop him, but he'd have none of it."

  "He nearly hit me as he came out of the parking lot."

  "With the shape he was in, he had no business driving. But like I said, I couldn't stop him."

  "You didn't tell him how we found her, did you?"

  "No." Gagewin grimaced. "I don't ever want to tell anyone about that. He could probably figure it out on his own, though. He heard about how Nenegean killed Alan."

  "I'll see if I can find him after we're done here." Keoman finished the biscuit, but pushed the pastry aside. "I need to tell you what Hjak found on Yancy's computer."

  ~~~~

  Even though she knew she had no business eavesdropping, Channing couldn't make herself move. Keoman hadn't closed the door completely after he asked if he and Nodinens could use her clinic office to talk for a moment. She glanced down at her trembling hands. Finally, the quiet in her office told her someone might come out at any minute and catch her there. With an effort, she forced one foot in front of the other until she made it into an empty exam room.

  Any room would have done, she mused as she collapsed on the rolling stool she used to assess patients. The clinic's patient load was finished for the day, and she and Nodinens had been getting ready to leave when Keoman showed up. She wished they had already been gone. She gripped her hands together tightly, but the shakes only spread to her lower arms. How could anyone hurt a small child? Mistreat them and photograph them so they could get off on the ugly photos and horrible videos?

  It had been hard enough for her to stay after she had found signs of molestation on the tiny girl Keoman found. Had the storm not kept her off the roads, she would be back in Texas now, close to Rose's grave. The child who carried Channing's heart with her into that small white coffin.

  She laid her arms on the diminutive desk and buried her face. She had to leave. The town would have to find someone else to care for their illnesses until Dr. Silver recovered. She couldn't handle this.

  She lifted her head and grabbed some tissues. It had seemed such a peaceful town. Small, cozy, a place that needed her, since their only doctor was aging. But buried beneath the peace and quiet, revolting malevolence teemed. Nenegean, a monster who kidnapped children, was part of the maliciousness. Entities like those usually could be eradicated when the proper procedures were uncovered, though it was taking an inordinate length of time to find a way to get rid of this one.

  But child pornography was evil personified. There was no explanation for men — or the rare woman, for that matter — engrossed in such depravity.

  She shuddered. Suicide was too simple a way out for Yancy Peterson. Cyanide wasn't an easy death, yet it was over fairly quickly. Had she known what the man was into, would she have touched him even to save him?

  The thought shocked Channing. She had always believed deeply in the ethics of medicine. Now, though, perhaps she needed to find another profession. A doctor shouldn't have thoughts like that.

  She would call Nurse PawPaw and inform her that she needed to take over the clinic until they found another doctor. PawPaw was the most experienced nurse she had ever met, a woman as close to being a doctor as possible without the degree. Channing imagined Dr. Silver had leaned a lot on his nurse, given the seclusion of the area where they worked.

  Resolutely, Channing tried to stand. Her knees wobbled and she fell on the stool again. It rolled backward too fast; she missed her grab for the desk. Her head hit the wall with a resounding thud, and new tears blurred her eyes. With a stifled sob from the mixture of pain and the swelling knot, complicated by the emotional agony stabbing her, she pushed herself to the desk and re-buried her face.

  Someone lifted her effortlessly, and Channing didn't fight. She already knew the feel, the smell, of Keoman. She laid her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. When he cupped the back of her head, she flinched. Evidently he felt the burgeoning knot and lowered his hand.

  She cried for a long while. When her sobs subsided, Keoman lifted her onto the exam table. She sniffed, and he wiped her face with some tissues.

  "Will you be all right while I ask Nodinens for an ice pack?" he asked.

  "You don't need to leave her," Nodinens said. Channing glanced at where Nodinens stood in the doorway. "I know where they are."

  She disappeared, and Keoman pushed gently on Channing's chin in order to look at her eyes. "I'm not a doctor," he said, "but your pupils are the same size. Doesn't that mean there's probably no concussion?"

  "I didn't hit that hard," Channing admitted.

  "Then what's wrong?"

  She shook her head. She didn't feel like revealing what she'd overheard right now. He probably wouldn't appreciate her leaving the area without a doctor. She would make the arrangements with PawPaw, then say her goodbyes.

  Nodinens came back with the ice pack, and Keoman took it from her before Channing could. He laid it tenderly on the knot, and she pushed his hand away to hold it herself.

  "I'll be all right," she said, forcing a chuckle. "I've sat on those darn little stools for years. You'd think I'd know better than to let one get away from me."

  "Are you sure that is the only problem?" Nodinens asked.

  She couldn't lie to the elderly woman. However, she barely had a hold on her emotions and a d
iscussion of what she was feeling was out of the question.

  "I'll be all right," she repeated. "I'd just like to go back to the cabin and lie down."

  "You shouldn't drive," Nodinens said. "I can take you in your car. Or Keoman can drop us off and we can come back later for your rental, since I am not on your insurance."

  Channing wasn't ready to spend any more time with Keoman right now. They had barely met, and to say they were in a relationship was stretching things quite a bit. However, deserting him would probably be as big a wrench as leaving the people here without medical help.

  "I'm sure Keoman has things to do," she said. "You and I will be fine."

  Chapter 32

  At the cabin, Channing couldn't face the isolation of her bedroom. She settled on the couch where Nodinens had laid earlier.

  "I bought tea when I stocked the groceries," Nodinens said as she pulled the afghan over Channing. "I'll make us each a cup."

  Channing held back her insistence that Nodinens not worry about her. At times a person needed to accept nurturing without protest. The nurturer also gained an inner satisfaction from caring for someone else, and Nodinens was the most giving person Channing had encountered here.

  She closed her eyes, although she didn't sleep. More why's and what-if's raced through her mind.

  Why had she seen the notice about Dr. Silver wanting someone to join his practice just when she realized she had to get out of Texas for a while?

  Why had she arrived at the same time an entity similar to those Grant had chased for years began wreaking havoc?

  What if she had chosen a different advertisement than Dr. Silver's to investigate? But she knew that answer. She had googled the location and seen how far from her current practice it was.

  What if she hadn't lost Rose? That what-if wasn't even in the realm of possibilities.

  Why did Nenegean appear to be targeting her? Grant's infrequent discussions about his work had eventually began to fascinate her. She never told him, but a few times she researched an entity they had talked about. She normally only skimmed the information, stomach curdling at the maliciousness. Over time, though, her interest in the supernatural grew.

  In all her research, however, she had never encountered anything like Nenegean — an entity that appeared to be on some sort of mission. She needed to talk to Grant, an open conversation where he shared his knowledge and experience.

  Or … she just needed to leave. That would be best. Let Nenegean talk to someone else, someone who could understand why the entity reemerged from the shadowland of another dimension.

  Nodinens set a tray with some cookies, cups and a box of tea bags on the coffee table. The kettle on the stove whistled, and Nodinens retrieved it to fill the cups.

  "It is chamomile," Nodinens said. "It will relax us both."

  While the tea bags steeped, Nodinens gently pushed Channing's legs aside and sat beside her. "Now," she said, staring intently at Channing, "tell me what the real problem is."

  Channing scooted up until she could prop her back on the couch arm. Somehow, it was easier to admit things to Nodinens.

  "It's what's going on with the children here," she admitted, blinking back the renewed threat of tears. "I'm sorry. I assumed I had surmounted enough of my grief over Rose to be able to at least start getting on with my life. But I need to leave. I can't handle this."

  "I saw your shadow outside the office door," Nodinens admitted. "I do not blame you. This is too much even for someone who has seen many sad things over the years, as I have. We will be all right with PawPaw until we find another doctor. I do not want you to worry."

  "Grant will stay and help you deal with Nenegean," Channing assured her. "I know you told me the first time we met that I was a part of what was to happen here. I think that was just to show me how far from being able to handle Rose's death I still am." She bit her lip. "How can anyone hurt a child? Rose's death was an accident. A horrible one, and partly Grant's and my fault. If we'd only realized how far his mother's dementia had progressed…."

  Nodinens patted Channing's knee. "There is the saying that hindsight is twenty-twenty. It does not help the guilt a whole lot, but it is true."

  Nodinens dipped her tea bag up and down before she removed it from the hot water and laid it on a napkin. Channing bent forward to fix her own tea, and they both sipped silently for a few moments.

  "Have you heard a weather report?" Channing finally asked.

  "You will be fine through tomorrow. It is too late to go today, but you can leave first thing in the morning."

  "Thank you for not trying to change my mind."

  Nodinens stood. "The cookies and tea were only enough to whet my appetite. I am going to fix us a good meal."

  ~~~~

  Nenegean raced across the snow. She didn't know where she was going, only that she didn't like what was happening now. Most of all, she hated the thoughts that crowded her mind, and these people who were part of this new existence.

  There were too many evil ones. They did things that would result in them being tied to a stake and stoned during her lifetime. Tortured until agony engulfed them. Their bodies burned and tossed out to feed scavengers in the wilderness. The wolves and bears. Any other animals hungry enough to help destroy the evidence of such wicked people. They would not be given the honor of a proper ceremony so their odjitcag could cross into the land of their ancestors.

  She didn't remember what had happened to her own body. She had come back for some reason, which meant she had remained behind as an odjib, her soul trapped. The man had promised to care for her always. He hadn't, though. He had betrayed her in the worst way, leaving her and their children with no way to survive. Still, she had chosen that path. Unless she found a way to atone, her punishment would last forever.

  She had done everything possible to save her children, but the animals disappeared. She could not fish. They could not survive on water alone.

  She had begged the Elders to allow her to return to the tribe. They had stoned her until she was barely able to make it back to her children. She could not bear to think of what she did then.

  ~~~~

  Despite Nodinens' protests, Channing cleaned up the remnants of their meal and loaded the dishwasher. She set her laptop up on the table, and Nodinens stared at it longingly.

  "Would you like to walk over to the office with me?" she asked Channing. "I cannot take this boredom for another minute. I want to get my own laptop."

  Since she suffered the same tedium, as well as a longing to breathe fresh air, Channing didn't bother to mention anything about the safety of their trek. A minute later, they were outside in the crisp, cold evening. Shadows followed them as they slowly strolled to the resort office, lingering in the freedom from surrounding walls. Nodinens tucked her hand into Channing's arm when they neared an icy patch.

  "I can remember when I would have skipped through the snow and ice without a worry at all about falling," she said. "Now I —"

  Something cracked, the sound like a shot in the quiet air. Tense, both women stopped as though struck by a barrier. Before Channing jerked the elderly woman to the ground, Nodinens exhaled a sigh of relief. She pointed at the fallen branch, which had broken under its heavy load of ice and snow.

  "Oh," Channing said. She patted Nodinens' hand, which gripped her forearm so tightly it pained Channing even through her heavy coat. Thankfully, Nodinens relaxed her fingers.

  "We are both on edge," Nodinens said. "As we should be. Even with ancient and proven guards against evil surrounding us, we can never be sure they will work against a new entity."

  "I'm sure the men would say we should have called one of them to get your laptop."

  "Maybe we should have," Nodinens agreed. "However, we are at the office now."

  She unlocked the door, and Channing followed her inside rather than wait in the open. Nodinens efficiently unplugged the computer to pack it in the case, and Channing took it from her to carry. Nodinens relocked the do
or before they left.

  "It's stunning here," Channing mused as they made the return trip. "I just can't get over the contradiction of evil marring such beauty."

  "Unfortunately, evil is found elsewhere besides our Northwood."

  "So true," Channing agreed.

  Even though they continued to stroll leisurely, the walk ended far too soon. Both women settled at the table once more, laptops running. Channing needed to pack, but she mentally reviewed the few things she had with her and delved into her email instead.

  She didn't bother with most of them — friends from Texas who continued to ask when she would return … if she would return. There was an answer, though, from Grant's para-psychologist friend, whom she had contacted regarding Keoman's migraines.

  This does sound like an interesting case, Russ Densmore wrote. And in fact, I'm going to be attending a conference in Duluth this coming weekend. Given my area of specialty, I don't believe in coincidence. It possibly could be … probably is … an act of providence that you contacted me just now about your Native American friend. At a time when I'd be available to examine him.

  He gave her his cell phone number and continued, Give me a call, and we can set up a meeting while I'm in Duluth. The best time for me would probably be tomorrow afternoon, if there's any way you both can make that. I'm arriving mid-morning and have already notified the hotel I'll be checking in early.

  Looking forward to hearing from you, Channing. Let's also plan on dinner tomorrow evening. I'll make room reservations for you and your friend, and let him know he's invited to dinner, also.

  A knock on the door startled her, and she got up to answer. When she pulled the curtain aside to check the identity of their visitor, she shook her head in partial disbelief. She didn't particularly accept the notion of predestination, yet at times it stared her in the face.

  "Keoman," she said when she opened the door. "Come in."

  She peered past him when she noticed movement at the cabin directly across from hers, Grant's cabin. A yellow Jeep sat there now, and Grant was just closing the door. He waved and strode across the driveway separating them. Keoman turned for a second, then went on inside while Channing waited for Grant.