Tangled Threat ; Suspicious

by Heather Graham

  He wasn’t the only law enforcement officer there. As he waited, two drug overdoses and a man with a knife in his back were rushed in, escorted by cops. Strange place, he thought. Stranger here, in the heart of the city, than out in the Glades. The wealth to be found in the area was astounding; movie stars, rock stars and celebrities of all kinds had multimillion-dollar mansions out on the islands, in the Gables and scattered throughout the county. At the same time, refugees from Central and South America abounded, many who slept under bridges, or lived in the crack houses that could be found not so far from the million-dollar mansions.

  At length, one of the doctors came out. “Well, we’ve got him stabilized. But he’s in a coma. He’s not going to be talking.”

  “Will he come out of it?” Jesse asked.

  “I don’t know,” the doctor told him honestly.

  Jesse nodded, and handed the doctor his business card.

  “I’ll call you first thing, and I mean first thing, if there’s any change at all,” the doctor promised.

  Jesse thanked him. There was a Florida Highway Patrol officer in the waiting room who had just finished with an accident victim. He offered to drive Jesse back. It was a long way, and Jesse thanked him for the offer.

  “Heard you’ve been having some bad business around here,” the officer, Tom Hennesy, said as they drove. “Anything new on those shootings?”

  “No. Metro-Dade Homicide is handling that case, though.”

  Hennesy nodded. “You had a fatal gator attack, too.”

  Jesse nodded.

  “Strange, huh?” Hennesy said. “Usually that kind of thing only happens when someone wanders into the wrong place.” He shrugged. “Of course, the ‘wrong’ place is getting harder to avoid these days, what with developers eating up the Everglades. Still, it’s usually only the big gators that will attack an adult. It’s usually toddlers. Or pets.” He cast a sideways glance at Jesse and flushed slightly. “I was reading up after the attack the other day. Since 1948, there have been fewer than 350 attacks on humans in this state, and the number of fatal attacks is only in the teens.” He laughed. “I remember when the creatures were endangered, and when the first alligator farm opened in 1985. My uncle used to come out to the Glades, sit in a cabin and drink beer, and go out and hunt gators—till they made the endangered list. And now...my wife wanted to move close to the water. Now, after the latest incident, she wants to move out of state and up into the mountains somewhere.”

  Jesse smiled at the man, offering what he hoped was polite empathy.

  “Hell, you’re down here all the time,” Hennesy said. “Think about it. How many attacks have you seen?”

  Jesse looked at him. “Well, my uncle Pete lost a thumb, but he was one of the best wrestlers the village down there ever had. He was proud of it, actually. I don’t think you can call that an attack, though.”

  When they at last reached the alligator farm, Jesse was disturbed to realize that more than half the day was gone.

  The place was full of tourists, as if nothing had happened. A discreet inquiry assured him that Lorena was busy, helping out with Michael Preston’s hatchling speeches.

  He took a glance into the lab and saw that there were at least twenty people on the current tour. Lorena didn’t see him. He watched her, watched the way she smiled, seemingly at ease. But in reality she was moving around the lab looking for something, he realized. She was subtle, leaning against a cabinet, a desk, casually assessing the contents, but she was definitely searching for something.

  He was tempted to shout at her. Stupid!

  Was she stupid, or dangerously reckless? Why? What was driving her?

  A little while later, when he drove away from the farm, he realized that he’d been afraid to leave, afraid to head home for a shower. He was tired as hell, but the shower was necessary. Sleep would have to wait.

  * * *

  LORENA HEARD THAT Jesse had returned to Harry’s. That he had spoken with a number of people.

  Just not her.

  The next morning she met Thorne Thiessen, the veterinarian. He had come to take a look at Old Elijah.

  He was a distinguished-looking man, weather-worn, with a pleasant disposition, very tall, very fit. He had his assistant with him, a huge guy named John Smith. They both looked like extremely powerful men, in exceptional shape.

  Maybe that was a requirement for survival in the swamp. Or else something in the genetics of the men in the area.

  Watching Thiessen examine Old Elijah had been a real education. They had pulled out a lot of equipment—Elijah was one big beast—and they had snared him, something that had taken Jack Pine, Hugh, John Smith and two part-time wranglers to manage. The gator had thrashed, even when caught, and sent several of the handlers flying. Between them, however, they got the creature still, with Jack making the leap to the animal’s back, shutting the great jaw and taping it closed.

  Only then did Thiessen go into the pit. He took blood samples, checked the crocodilian’s eyes, did some kind of a temperature reading and checked out his hide.

  Despite the time she’d spent in school, Lorena really didn’t know how the vet was determining if the ancient creature was in good health or not. Personally, she thought that the way he had been able to toss grown men around as if they were weightless seemed to prove that he was doing okay.

  Jesse showed up right when Thiessen was leaving. Lorena, who had been watching from the pit area, did her best to eavesdrop. The men greeted each other cordially enough, but then Jesse pressed the vet, who in turn became defensive.

  “I’m working on it, Jesse. But come on, Homicide doesn’t see any connection between the alligator limb and the murders. Something ate the rest of the thing, that’s all. Poachers don’t kill people with high-powered rifles.”

  Jesse shrugged. “I can see where this may not be at the top of your priority list, but it is high on mine. If you don’t want to deal with the responsibility, I can just take it to the FBI lab.”

  Thorne frowned, even more indignant. “No one knows reptiles the way that I do!”

  “That’s why I brought the specimen to you. Another day or so, Thorne, then I’m going to have to go for second best.”

  As he finished speaking, Lorena realized that he’d noticed she was there. She had forgotten to eavesdrop discreetly.

  But there were others around, too. Jack and Hugh were speaking together, just a few feet away. Sally was standing politely to the rear, obviously waiting for a chance to have a word with Jesse.

  Even Harry was still by the pit, calling out orders to the two wary part-time handlers, who had been left to free Old Elijah from the tape on his snout.

  Michael Preston was there, too, sipping coffee with a thoughtful frown as he watched all the activity.

  Jesse, however, was gazing thoughtfully at her.

  “Ms. Fortier,” he murmured. “I need to see you later,” he said.

  He turned to leave. Sally tapped him on the arm, asking a question that Lorena couldn’t hear. As Jesse walked away, Sally was still at his side.

  “Hey!” Harry called. “Doors are opening.”

  * * *

  LORENA REALIZED THAT although she was always distracted when she brought visitors through Michael’s lab, she actually enjoyed his talks. He had a nice flair for the dramatic. That morning, though, she felt the frustration of not being able to find anything out of the ordinary. Except for the eggs with the cracked shells. That was where changes—or enhancements—might take place. But they were out in the open. Part of the show.

  In the afternoon, she watched as Jack and Hugh both put on their own demonstrations. Jack wrestled a six-foot gator to the amusement of the crowd. Hugh brought out gators in various stages of growth, thrilling the children, who were allowed to touch the animals. After the last show, Hugh approached her.

  “How about an
airboat ride? See some of the scenery up close and personal?” he suggested, his grin charming and hopeful.

  She agreed, and soon, they were out in the Glades. She had been afraid, at first, when it had looked as if they were trying to take off over solid ground. But it wasn’t ground at all.

  The river of grass. That was what it was and exactly the way it looked. As they traveled, Hugh educated her about their environs, shouting to be heard over the motor. The Everglades really wasn’t a swamp but a constantly moving river; it was simply that the rate at which the water moved was so slow that it wasn’t discernible to the naked eye.

  Hugh obviously loved the area. Before they started out, he had explained that he was an Aussie, would always be an Aussie at heart, but that he had come to love this place as home.

  Trees on hummocks seemed to rush by with tremendous speed. Ahead of them, brilliantly colored birds, large and small, burst out of the water and into the sky. At last Hugh cut the motor, and the airboat came to rest in the middle of what seemed like a strange and forgotten expanse of endless water, space and humid heat.

  “So how do you like the airboat?” Hugh asked. He had a cooler in the rear of the boat and edged around carefully to open it. He produced two bottles of beer.

  She accepted one.

  “The feel of the wind is great,” she told him.

  He took a seat again, grinning as he looked at her. “You like it out here?”

  “It’s strange. A bit to get used to. But yes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more magnificent birds. Not even in a zoo.”

  “Around the early 1900s, some of them were hunted into extinction. Their feathers were needed for every stylish hat,” Hugh said, leaning back. “But they are fabulous, aren’t they?”

  She nodded. “So, Hugh, were you a croc hunter back home in the Outback?”

  He laughed. “Actually, I was born and raised in Sydney, but I always wanted to find out about the wilds. We’ve got some beautiful country at home, but there’s just something here...the loneliness, the trees, the birds, the... I don’t know. Some people simply fall in love with the land. Despite the SST-size mosquitoes, the venomous snakes and the alligators.”

  “Have you been a handler ever since you got here?” she asked. “I mean, did you ever help with the research side of things?”

  He laughed. “Research?” He shook his head. “I know enough about gators without that. I know when they mate, know that a mother gator is one of the fiercest creatures known to man. And I know about the jaws, and that’s what counts.”

  He sat back easily, adjusting his hat. He was attentive and clearly glad to be with her. In fact, he really seemed like a nice guy.

  And he knew nothing about research.

  Or so he claimed.

  But here they were, in the middle of nowhere, and if he had wanted to cause her any harm...

  “Damn!” he said suddenly.

  “What?” she asked.

  He lifted his beer, indicating something west of them. She peered in that direction, squinting, trying to see what he was seeing.

  She realized that there was an embankment, and that they were in a canal. Trees grew at the water’s edge, and it seemed that there was a small hummock in the direction he was pointing.

  Limbs were down here and there, no doubt a result of the early summer rainstorms she had heard came frequently here.

  “There... They really are amazing creatures. They blend perfectly with their environment,” Hugh said, his voice a whisper touched with awe. “See him?”

  Suddenly she did. Just the eyes and a hint of the nose were visible above the water. And then, way behind the head, she could see the slight rise of the back.

  “He’s huge!” Hugh continued softly. “I’ve never seen one that big. I’ve never even seen a croc that big.”

  “How can you tell his size?” she asked, whispering, too, though she didn’t know why. Actually, she did, she realized. She didn’t want to attract the creature’s attention.

  “Well,” Hugh said, “if you look at the water—”

  “The water looks black,” she protested.

  He laughed softly. “It’s not the water, it’s the vegetation. But look closely. You can see the length of the body. We’re talking huge. Maybe twenty-something feet.”

  “They don’t get that big here!” she heard herself protest.

  As they watched, the alligator suddenly submerged. Lorena felt a sharp stab of fear, sudden and primitive. She was certain that the creature was coming for them.

  The airboat was small and built for two, with both seats at the rear. The nose of the vehicle offered only a small bit of space for supplies. The boat was fairly flat-bottomed, and it would be hard to knock over, but...

  How much could a creature like that weigh?

  “Man, I would have liked to see him up close,” Hugh marveled.

  Lorena couldn’t speak. She was certain that Hugh was going to get his wish, that the gator would be there, beneath them, in a matter of seconds.

  Frowning, Hugh rose. Despite the rocking of the airboat, he moved easily and confidently. She was about to scream to him to sit down, that he needed his gun, that...

  She heard it then. The motor of another airboat.

  Just then something brushed by their boat. Just touching it. Nosing it.

  Testing it?

  Then the other airboat came into the picture, whipping over the water. It was a much larger vehicle, with the motor and giant fan far in the rear, and with more storage space and six seats in front of the helm. She noticed that it bore a tribal insignia.

  Then she saw Jesse.

  She released a long breath, aware that she wasn’t afraid anymore, that even his airboat seemed to shout of authority.

  The creature had disappeared; it was no longer touching their airboat.

  “Hey!” Jesse shouted, cutting his motor as his vehicle drew next to theirs.

  “Hey, Jesse,” Hugh said dryly. It was apparent that his romantic plans had just been shattered.

  “What are you two doing out here?” Jesse asked with a frown.

  Hugh cocked his head, his hands on his hips. “I asked the lady out, and she agreed.”

  Jesse looked impatient. “Hugh, I don’t know how you missed my notice. We’ve got a man-eater out here. We’re going to get a group of hunting guides out here and go after it. The medical examiner says that Billy Ray was bushwhacked by one big son of a bitch. We’re going after it. It’s not safe out here right now.”

  Hugh snorted. “Jesse, I’ve been dealing with gators for half my life. I’m armed, and I can take care of Lorena. I carry more than one big gun.”

  Jesse shook his head. “Hugh, you’re one of the best. But Billy Ray knew alligators, too. Take your airboat on back. Lorena, step over here.”

  “Now, wait a minute!” Hugh protested. “Lorena is with me.”

  “She’s coming in for questioning,” Jesse said.

  “What?” she and Hugh asked simultaneously.

  Those startling green eyes leveled upon her hard. “Lorena needs to answer some questions about an incident at the alligator farm the other day.”

  “Jesse, you are crazy—” Lorena began.

  “I can put the cuffs on you,” he assured her.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Hugh demanded.

  Jesse leveled his eyes on Lorena as he answered Hugh’s question. “Something to do with a little kid getting a bite. I’m sure Harry wants it kept quiet. Therefore, I need a few answers.”

  Hugh frowned, staring at Lorena. “You don’t have to go with him. What are you trying to pull here, Jesse Crane?” Hugh demanded.

  “I think that Lorena wants to come with me,” Jesse said, staring at her meaningfully.

  Her skin prickled. It wasn’t with the kind of panic she had
felt when she believed that a monster gator was stalking her, but with an overwhelming sense of unease. He knew.

  And maybe he was giving her a chance to talk to him before he blew the whistle on her.

  She sighed, rising. The boat rocked.

  “There was a bit of a problem with one of the children the other morning, Hugh. Easily taken care of. I’ll just go with Jesse now,” she said smoothly.

  Panic seized her once again when she was ready to step from boat to boat. Where had the gator gone?

  Whatever ruffled male feathers had begun to fly, the situation was suddenly eased as Hugh, holding her arm as she moved to join Jesse, said, “I think we just saw your alligator.”

  “Here?” Jesse asked.

  There was about a foot and a half of empty space between the boats as they rocked gently in the water. Lorena looked down.

  Her heart slammed into her throat.

  There it was. Submerged, and moving in fluid silence, just beneath the surface.

  She nearly threw herself into Jesse’s arms.

  “There!” she said. “Underneath us.”

  He frowned at her, dark brows drawn, eyes narrowed. He forced her into a seat and strode back to the edge of the airboat. “Where? Hugh, you see it?”

  Hugh was also searching the water. He had a shotgun in the back of the airboat. He reached for it and stood still, watching.

  Time passed.

  It felt like an eternity to Lorena, who heard the drone of a mosquito but was afraid to move, too frozen even to swat at the creature.

  At last Jesse sighed.

  “It might have been here, but I don’t see it now,” he said. “But this might well be its territory, so we’ll start here tomorrow.”

  “Sunset?” Hugh asked.

  “Right before. You gonna join us?”

  “Yeah,” Hugh said. “I travel around here all the time, though. I haven’t seen that gator before.”

  “What was left of Billy Ray’s body was tangled in the trees not too far from here. You know, right around the bend, where he had his favorite fishing spot. Yes, this is its territory. I’ll pick you up at Harry’s, six o’clock sharp tomorrow evening.”