Devil's Gold (12 page)

Jesus, Cassidy. Could you be any more touchy?
she asked herself, feeling guilty. “Sorry …” She offered him a half smile. “That'll be fine.” These weren't unusual circumstances. ZEBRA missions meant close quarters and intense coordination of personnel. But she needed to square one small item away. Pointing at Jake, Cassidy narrowed her eyes and put on her best demanding boss impersonation. “I swear if you use
Sunshine
as a proper noun one more time, I'll do something drastic like stick shaving cream in your hand while you sleep.” She moved past him and headed toward the presidential suite.

Jake laughed, filling the hall with his lighthearted voice.

With her back to him, Cassidy allowed herself an honest smile, one that lifted her spirits and made amusement tickle her chest. It felt good. Damn good.

Following the signs to the presidential suite, Cassidy felt an itch of excitement as she neared their room. Work sounded wonderful. Drowning herself in the wolf mystery would help re-center her skewed emotions. She grinned like a fool at the thought of hiking to one of the many observation posts and spending a solitary night with nothing more than her blanket and, hopefully, a pack of gray wolves.

She stood before the wooden door, placing her palm against the smooth grain of the polished surface. It vibrated. The room beyond was frantic with activity. She could smell it.

Jake reached around her and twisted the knob, urging her through the entryway with a nudge of his shoulder. “They won't bite. I promise.”

Cassidy rolled her eyes as she stepped into the center of a typical ZEBRA mission. The room was filled with about a half dozen people spread out in front of computers and ringing telephones. She immediately snapped into work mode, weaving through tables and employees to reach the safety of a small, narrow conference table.

The scent of fresh brewed coffee drew her attention to the far corner, where Steve was already attacking a computer keyboard with the dedication of a master pianist. There was a food cart to the left of him, but before she could take one step toward the much needed caffeine, Jake turned her shoulder until she faced the other end of the room.

Dr. Sharpe sat at the head of the small conference table. Cassidy immediately recognized his impatient frown and offered Jake a grateful smile. She waved him away and walked over to sit beside her mentor.

Dr. Sharpe focused on Cassidy, and Cassidy noted the tired lines around his eyes and wondered what troubled him. He absently rubbed his hand over his roughly sheared salt and pepper hair and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“Tough landing, I hear?” he said, his voice gruff with concern.

“It's already forgotten.”

He tilted his head and cast a sly grin. “You're a real pain in the ass, Lowell.”

Cassidy laughed softly and tapped her pencil against the back of his hand. “Yeah, I know. But I'm good at what I do.”

Drew flipped open his notebook and scanned a piece of paper, taking his eyes off the document after only a few seconds. “Did you by any chance order a geological survey of the delta?”

Confused by the sudden change in topic, Cassidy opened her mouth to explain why she'd gone over budget and flown Charles and David to the Niger Delta. However, the memory of Charles' last statement about the results of the survey along with her retrieval from Africa and reassignment here had her quickly changing her words. Something wasn't right. “Why do you ask?”

“Thought I saw it on your expense report.”

Weirded out but not willing to express her wariness, Cassidy lifted her shoulder in a careless shrug. “Don't believe I've had the chance to turn that in yet.”

Drew held her gaze for a beat too long, then dismissed the conversation by returning his attention back to the document in his hand and speaking to her in an offhand manner. “Then I suggest you do. Payroll hates playing catch-up.”

Cassidy rose from the table. “I just need a few minutes to review the latest stats that Dr. Anderson provided; then I'll be ready to make the presentation.” She didn't like his reserved attitude.

Sharp glanced up. “Okay. I'll inform everyone to convene in approximately fifteen minutes.”

Spreading her data on the table, Cassidy scrutinized the figures. The printout she'd been provided with prior to take-off notated a gradual decline in wolf population. The back of her neck tingled. She glanced over her shoulder and stared at Jake. “Must you stand so close?” He grinned and stepped to the side.

“I didn't realize you had personal space issues.”

“I don't. Do you have the updated information?” He was still standing too close.

Leaning over her shoulder, he placed a spreadsheet on the table. “Right here.”

About to demand he move away, Cassidy stopped. The numbers on the sheet caught her eye. She grabbed a highlighter and began marking up her schematic of the park. Nearly every quadrant containing wolves had been depleted. “This is unsettling.”

Jake pointed to an area on her map. “I wonder if something has contaminated the water system and then transferred from pack to pack. See how heavily populated the area past the north entrance was? Is it possible that the packs returned to certain quadrants that are fed from the same water source?”

Cassidy chewed her bottom lip and frowned. “Maybe. But I'm certain that would be the first thing the rangers tested. Besides, a contaminated water source would leave numerous species dead. Not just wolves. Let me get through this briefing, and we'll head out to grab our own sample.”

“All work no play makes Dr. Lowell grumpy all day.”

She grinned. “My work is my play.” Cassidy folded up the schematics and stats, shoving them back into her briefcase. “I'm ready,” she announced to Dr. Sharpe, laying a folder full of transparencies on the table. He nodded, and his attention turned to the rest of the crew now taking their places around the table.

Cassidy followed his gaze. Michelle Allen, their chief ecologist, slid into the seat next to her. Her brown hair was pulled neatly into a ponytail, and she sat primly behind the table, prepared to take notes. Michelle had been with ZEBRA longer than Cassidy and had about ten years on her age-wise. Cassidy returned her smile, wondering why Michelle had never advanced higher in the organization.

Steve flung himself into the nearest chair, flipping her the finger and dropping a flurry of disorganized papers on the table. She stuck her tongue out at him and grinned. His long, slender physique should make him ungainly, but he was as limber as a monkey, constantly in motion and burning more calories just sitting still than the average person did walking a mile. He winked. She crossed her eyes. Catching an amused expression on Jake's face, Cassidy blushed and twisted in her chair to face her administrator. “Valerie, do you have copies of the preliminary report for everyone?”

Valerie had a one-inch stripe of shock-white hair that contrasted with the rest of her black bob, and Cassidy tried not to stare at it as the older woman tucked it behind her ear. “Yes, they're right here.” She carefully distributed the detailed reports down the table and nodded to Sharpe when she was done.

When everyone had a copy of the report, Drew stood and clapped his hands together. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, you are officially now members of Pod Gray Wolf.”

A soft chuckle spread around the table. Dr. Sharpe referred to all his group assignments as pods. The term originated from one of their earlier expeditions where they complained that the close quarters made them feel as if they were all just peas in a pod. Sharpe demanded equitable teamwork and liked the idea of reinforcing that idea by naming each handpicked team as a “pod.”

After the noise settled down, he continued. “As you know, all reports and communication shall be labeled as such.” He turned his chair and flicked a few switches. The lights dimmed, and an overhead projector outlined a sketch of Yellowstone National Park.

“We've been assigned to assist park personnel in determining why their gray wolf population has suddenly decreased in number. The team leader for this expedition will be Cassidy Lowell. She is an expert on the gray wolf and was one of the team leaders that initially reintroduced the species to Yellowstone National Park. At this point in time, I'll turn the projector over to her, and she'll explain a few more details.”

“Thank you, sir.” Cassidy flipped another transparency on the screen, displaying a picture of a proud male wolf, his vibrant golden eyes gleaming fiercely from the screen. A mask of brown, gray, and black hair outlined the eyes cupped by soft, downy white fur that spread from his nose to beneath his ears, producing the effect of a wide, cheeky grin.

“This is canis lupus, more commonly referred to as the gray wolf. In 1973, the population in North America plummeted to four hundred due to a long history of hunting, trapping, and poisoning. The gray wolf was one of the first species listed as endangered in that same year, and all hunting has since been prohibited. Unfortunately, there are many ranchers that still uphold the view that these are dangerous beasts.” Cassidy took a breath and scanned the room to make sure she still held everyone's attention. Her mouth watered when another whiff of coffee filtered across the table, and she occupied her caffeine-starved brain by refocusing on the lecture.

“There are roughly thirty-five hundred gray wolves now residing in the lower forty-eight states, primarily in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan. In 1995, I had the privilege of taking part in the reintroduction of thirty-one gray wolves to Yellowstone. That count has steadily increased, and in the last survey the population was noted at approximately a hundred and twenty adults. Last month,” she said, pausing and looking through the dim light at her team, “the count was reported at fifty-five. And as of this morning, GPS can find no positive response from any of the collared wolves.” A soft gasp and instant buzz could be heard throughout the room.

“Has the wolf been removed from protection under the Endangered Species Act?” Jake asked.

“Not yet,” Cassidy answered. “However, federal regulators have proposed a lower level of protection that places them close to being removed. This is exceptionally dangerous, as we will no longer have any control over their fate.”

“This might sound like a dumb question, Cassidy,” a soft voice spoke from the side, “but if the wolves are confined to Yellowstone, why are the ranchers so against them?”

Cassidy smiled at Michelle. She always saw the upbeat side of every ecological success; maybe that's what prevented the ecologist from promotion. It would be beyond her ability to believe that any positive accomplishment would result in negative responses, and that hindered the out-of-the-box thinking required to lead a successful mission. “Michelle, as you know, we can't control wildlife. The wolves have wandered out of Yellowstone territory, and there's nothing we can do to stop them. Many ranchers have been, and still are, alarmed at the reintroduction of a natural predator to the surrounding land, threatening their livelihood. They are mollified, somewhat, by the reimbursement for dead livestock, but we're still forced to shoot any wolves that decide to dine on domesticated animals.”

Cassidy watched Jake stretch his legs beneath the table and rub his chin in thought. “Who's to say half the Yellowstone population hasn't migrated?” he queried, interrupting her thoughts.

“About twelve out of the twenty or so packs have migrated beyond

Yellowstone boundaries. However, all the packs have numerous collared wolves. The packs are monitored constantly through GPS. Also, they're clinging very close to Yellowstone. They're still in what is considered undeveloped wild country.”

“You said they were collared?”

“Yes. Even though a tagged wolf would be considered inferior to the rest of the pack and killed, Yellowstone has had great success with radioed collars. About 75 percent of the population is tracked, and all packs can be located through GPS.”

“How are the others counted then?” he persisted.

“Visually. Just like you and I, each wolf has individual markings and is assigned either a number or name based on its description. Pictures are taken when possible and a detailed log maintained.”

Jake tapped a pen against the desk. “What about other wildlife?”

“As in?”

“I'm not sure. Have there been other inconsistencies that might point us in a direction to begin the investigation?”

Cassidy shrugged. “I haven't gone over Yellowstone's spreadsheets yet. However, I did send a bulletin out to all the local veterinarians and wildlife organizations within this area and haven't received back anything substantial.” She flipped over a few pages and squinted at a printed e-mail. It was hard to read in the dim light. “The only response sent was from a vet's office in Gardiner. He's been experiencing a higher than normal influx of parvo …”

Pausing, she held the letter under the light of the overhead projector. “It says that he didn't feel it to be a concern because almost all of the dogs originated from the pound. They've tested the remaining animals in the facility and cleaned the area. The dogs were all treated successfully.” She glanced up at Jake. “That's it.”

Dr. Sharpe flipped off the overhead projector and turned the lights on. Cassidy squinted and rubbed her eyes.

“Okay, Cass, what's your take on this? Environmental or man?”

“I don't know, sir. The numbers are really scary. Almost all the population gone or missing? It could be anything from a poisonous plant to migration to illegal hunting, but I agree that we need to investigate.”

“That's what the feds want as well. I don't believe that disease is involved, due to the fact that no bodies have been found. Therefore, I'll refrain from involving the CDC. Yellowstone wants to maintain its image as a safe haven for wildlife and has asked that we keep a low profile and try to avoid any negative publicity.” Sharpe cleared his voice and pierced Cassidy with a demanding look. “Chief Ethan Connor is your contact.”