Tales Of The Sazi 05 - Moon's Fury (21 page)

"How did
you
deal with it? Making a mistake, that is. If you've ever made one." The sound of frustration playing through his voice was clear, even without the burnt metal scent he knew the other man could smell.

He'd expected a laugh or anger for daring to ask. What he didn't plan was the weary, almost sad sigh. "Made one? Hmm…
which
one? There've been too many to count lately. You'll find yourself asking questions there aren't any answers to—should I have stepped in sooner? Should I have gotten involved at all? Did I make it worse, or better? What could I have noticed that might have made the difference?" He shrugged. "But you don't have time to second guess. All you can do is look around you, listen to your people, make your decisions, and move on. Oh, and watch your back when you have time. Outliving your enemies is a key element of leading.”

Watch his back. He never thought he had to do that alone—believed his pack, his
family,
would
help
watch it. "That reminds me! Cara doesn't bind her pack, but Josef does. Do I insist, or let my people pine down here? What do you do in Boulder?”

The shrug didn't really help to answer the question. "Boulder was lightly bound …not like Josef does. We're aware of each other, but there's no strong tie. I'm severed from them now, and so is the Alpha who took over for me." A small smile and a shake of his head didn't really telegraph any particular emotion, and his scent was still blocked. "I never really planned to stay for as long as I did. Time sort of got away from me.”

He looked lost in thought for the barest of moments and then shrugged again. "So, I guess there's no good answer. There are advantages and disadvantages to binding, and the
level
of binding, for a pack leader. Cara's pack is also family. They see one another every single day. There's probably never been a need. But with the new members coming down …well, that's something she and the new Alpha Male are going to have to work out. Your people are more aggressive than hers. She's going to have her hands full. I think it'll make her grow as an Alpha, but it also might be too much for her. She might wind up the Second or even the Omega eventually. That's the way of packs. I think Raven Ramirez, who will be taking over the Boulder pack, is considering full binding. He might pull it off, since that pack is splitting, too.”

Boulder is being split, too?
So this really wasn't just retribution against his pack for one mistake? Adam remembered Raven, the previous second in command of Wolven. Yeah, he would be a good pack leader. Strong, confident, easy to talk to. Lucas kept talking even as he nodded to himself.

"Things happened up there that might not have if I'd been attached to the members. But I can't allow myself to believe it was a
mistake
not to fully bind them. It was a choice I made with what I thought was good information.”

The older man picked up his coffee cup again and started to put it to his lips before realizing it was empty. He set it back down and looked at Adam with world-weary eyes. "Still, don't be too certain your members will pine down here, either. Pick the right people, and they might consider the structure down here…liberating.”

Lucas's voice filled with determination. "Remember that sometimes people don't recognize freedom until the chains are off and they have something to compare the chains to."
15

"Sheriff? Do you have a minute?”

Cara stopped on the bottom step of Tedford County's century-old limestone courthouse and looked up and behind her. The county attorney, Jeff Stone, was hurrying toward her, his arms laden with files. He nearly lost his grip on the oversize trial case in his hand and Cara reached out to steady it. While she'd known Jeff for years, she made the play of keeping her tone professional, mostly for the benefit of other ears on the square. "I've got
just
a minute, Mr. Stone. My calendar is insane today. What can I do for you?”

He looked at her with chagrin and the dry heat of embarrassment rose over the top of his normal scent, which always reminded her of canned limeade. It was probably the slightly cardboard hint that did it. Apparently, he was flustered enough he forgot to play the game. "Yeah, and I know that's my fault, Cara. I really thought we were going to need your testimony today. Sorry to make you sit through that whole hearing for nothing.”

She shrugged. "Occupational hazard. At least the judge ordered the extradition. That's one more bed I've got available in the jail.”

"Mmm-hmm. I saw the state correctional board turned down Carl's request to add new beds. What are you going to do now?”

A little frustrated noise leaked out of her before she could stop it. "They aren't
new
beds. That's the frustrating part. They're right there now, sitting open. But they're
allocated
for female prisoners." She knew she was stating the obvious, especially to Jeff. "We don't
have
any female prisoners. Why not use them for the men we do have? I'm getting tired of shipping them to out of county jails. The gasoline alone is killing our budget.”

Jeff shrugged. "Ah, the mysteries of logic in our state capital. Well, I'll try to do my part and push for early hearings on extraditions, like today." He let out a little laugh. "Maybe you need to stop arresting so many people.”

She returned the laugh. "I'll take that under advisement. That all you needed? 'Cause I really have to get." She tapped her watch face to emphasize it and he got a startled look on his face.

"No!
I mean, could we sit for just a second? I really do need to talk to you, but my arms are killing me. It's important, or I wouldn't ask.”

He shifted the files around again and she sighed. She really did have to get back, but after checking her watch again, she realized she still had ten minutes to make her next appointment. It was only a two minute walk back to the office—one minute if she hurried, and goodwill with the county attorney's office was never a bad thing. Nodding once, she scanned around the courthouse square, then pointed to the seldom-used gazebo, covered with ivy, that was only a few steps away. "How about over there?”

"Sounds good." He joined her in the short walk. Cara nearly reached out to help with his load of files, but there was such a fine line between helping out and insulting him that she didn't. As much as she hated it, there was still a very strong male-female tradition in this county, and insult came quick and stuck hard.

Cool dampness closed around her as they entered the open structure. The scent of growing plants and rich soil made her forget the muggy heat just a dozen feet away. A few black mud dauber wasps had built nests in the upper reaches of the gazebo, but they weren't at all aggressive like the red ones, or yellow jackets. A quick flip of her hand toward one made it fly lazily in the other direction. Jeff ignored them entirely. "Okay, here's the thing," he said once he'd placed his burdens on the slatted bench next to him and removed his cream-colored cowboy hat. "I'm missing some cattle—I think.”

She knew that the Stone ranch was one of the largest in the region, and missing cattle was a very big deal, but she shrugged because it wasn't her business. "Why tell me? The Cattle Raisers Association agents are paid to handle that. I know you've worked with them before. I haven't picked up any estrays lately, if that's what you're wondering.”

He shook his head. "The TSCRA guys can't help. They've already been out to the ranch. There aren't any tracks in the fields or even foot prints. My ranch manager hasn't checked all the ear tags yet, and we haven't finished branding the spring calves, so he told me to call back after I was done. But I
know
they're missing, probably close to a dozen of them. See, I found
blood!”

"So…
what?
You think someone is slaughtering them on the spot? Right there in the fields?" That might well turn it into a case for her department. Rustling was one thing, but killing them would be destruction of property.

He ran fingers through his thick sandy hair and then pushed his metal-rimmed glasses higher on his nose.

"Yes …no. I don't know for sure. There's not
enough
blood, if you know what I mean—that's the problem. There's too much for a simple barbed wire cut or a coyote taking a calf or two, and Hank and I checked the animals for healing wounds. Nothing. But there's not enough for a full-fledged slaughter. It looks—and I know this sounds stupid, it's why I haven't made out a report yet—but, it really
looks
like something just swooped down, cut them up a little, and then carried them away. And
please
don't laugh and ask me about alien abductions. The ribbing from my wife is bad enough.”

Cara's mouth went dry enough that a startled cough escaped her. It was the word
swooped
that did it. Had the birds—? She remembered Jeff raised Red Brangus, massive Brahma-Angus cross cows. The birds were certainly strong enough individually to lift a heifer, and two could probably manage a full grown bull. How much blood had those talons pulled out of Adam with just a few swipes? Her heart started to pound and she had to lick her lips before she could continue. "Which field was it? Is it part of your regular acreage?" The J Bar S spread was north of town, the opposite direction from the van, which would drastically increase the range they'd been considering. Or could there be more than one flock?

Jeff shook his head. "No. It was on a leased parcel, down near Little Coffey Creek. It started to happen a month or so ago, and we decided to move the cows back to the main ranch last week. But I can't keep 'em there for long. My whole west pasture will wind up overgrazed and covered in mesquite by auction time. I'll have to throw some straw as it is and with the drought, there's not much to be had. So anyway …could one of your deputies maybe …I don't know, maybe take a look around out there?

Is that allowed without a report? That new guy at the TSCRA will get pissed if he hears I stepped over his head and filed a report with your office. He's really territorial and I don't need that sort of grief. You'd think for the amount of dues I pay, I'd make the decisions, but—”

That would answer so much—especially the mention from the birds that they attacked the van because they were hungry. If the cattle were moved, and the deer kept to the undergrowth where talons couldn't reach …which they no doubt would if they spotted a bird the size of a freaking hang glider, there wouldn't be any other game big enough to feed a full grown Sazi, except maybe feral hogs. She found herself nodding almost absently, because who would report
hogs
disappearing? They were a nuisance to most everyone in the county. She met Jeff's eyes as a glimmer of an idea came to her. She needed to start making some calls. "Sure. Tell you what—I'll do it myself, off-shift. Then nobody else will catch wind of it. If I find something that points toward a rustler, I'll call the Association. But I'll need a key to the gate.”

The cool ozone scent of relief and gratitude burst into the air. Jeff pulled a key ring from his pocket as he spoke. "I
really
appreciate this, Cara. You have no idea. If you want, I can have Hank meet you out there to show you the blood spots we found. He covered them with rocks so the fire ants wouldn't eat up all the evidence." He handed her a small padlock key and his business card. "Leave me a message if you find anything, or if you want one of us to walk the fence with you. Oh, and you might want to take a shotgun with you. There was a whole nest of rattlers down by the creek when we moved the cows. We didn't bother to kill 'em since the cows were going anyway.”

She nodded again, even though rattlesnakes didn't worry her nearly as much as the alternative.
Oh, I'll be taking along a shotgun all right, but it's going to be loaded with
silver
shot.
It was after six by the time Cara finished a series of phone calls to game and cattle ranches around the region. Damned if there hadn't been a rash of disappearing animal occurrences, from cows and ranched whitetails to goats and even tagged exotics—elk and axis deer. But there hadn't been enough at any one location for people to put in a report. A call to the state park over at Devil's Sinkhole revealed that camper disturbance reports of feral hogs was way down this year…to the happy relief of the rangers. Her question of, "When did you start to notice?" showed that everything seemed to have started around March.

Why March?
She tapped her pen on the yellow notepad in front of her, and took another sip of wretched orange soda…the last thing available in the machine. She really need to talk to someone about getting some decent selections in the break room, or at least getting it stocked more often. Was it just sheer chance that a flock of birds had happened on her county during some sort of weird Sazi spring migration, or was there more to it? Did Sazi birds even migrate? She added a note to her list—
Ask Will about migration and food.
Just from looking at the number of missing animals, even if she counted some as escaped or natural deaths, there were
way
too many for such a short time. Her own pack only downed one or two deer a month on the moon. But the animals missing counted in the
dozens!
And she'd only called five or six ranches south of town. Her phone rang and she reached out to answer it absently, going so far as to put the receiver to her ear before realizing it was her cell phone. She shook her head and tried to focus as she opened it and answered. "Sheriff Salinas.”

The voice started her heart pumping and she felt a flush rise into her cheeks. "Um, hi. It's Adam. Did Lucas talk to you today …um, that is,
again?”

Shit. So, he knew she'd stopped by and talked to him. Well, that made sense, she supposed. But it didn't help the churning in her stomach. "About that…I really want you to understand
why
—”

He interrupted hurriedly. "It's okay. Really. You don't have to explain. I found out when I stopped by to ask Lucas the same thing.”

Oh. She didn't know quite how she felt about that. Did he have different reasons? Did he not like her pack or…"It's just that I didn't think I was being—”