Wolfwraith (12 page)

“Mr. Moorcock is a Federal Game Warden. I’m sure he’s familiar with animal tracks.”

“No, not everyone who works with wildlife is Ranger Roy, the outdoors expert. Moorcock works with statistics and graphs, budgets and allocations. He got to his position by administrative experience, not familiarity with nature.”

“You’ve only been with the park service for a few months. How is it you’re such an expert on animal tracks all of a sudden?”

“I grew up hunting with my grandfather back in the days before computers, satellite TV and video games. I grew up close to nature; that’s partly why I took the ranger job. Tracking animals in the woods is not very different from sand—a lot harder, actually—and I’ve been paying attention to the animal signs in the park since I first got there.”

“Oh, yes, even though you’re the rookie, you know wildlife better than your superiors.” She raised her eyes skyward.

“I didn’t say that,” Shadow said. “But Moorcock doesn’t know tracking. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but he probably couldn’t follow a deer through a wheat field.”

“So you’re sticking with the pig story. Even though you’re the only one to see the pigs or
their tracks.”

“It’s what happened.”

Walker expelled her breath in an exasperated sigh and looked at Morrow. “I see no reason to continue this interview,” she said. “I don’t feel Ranger Fletcher is being forthcoming with all he knows, but that’s his prerogative.” She reached behind her and turned off the wall switch.

“Lighten up, Lorene. You’re hardly giving him a chance to explain himself. I talked to him before you got here. He really is familiar with the outdoors, grew up hunting and trapping up north.”

“You talk to him then. I have some other leads I’d like to follow up.” She slid the pad of paper over in front of Morrow, then stood and walked around the table toward the door.

“Good day, Ranger,” she said as she passed by Shadow. She gave him that quick, flat smile. No expression showed on her face, although he thought there might be an unexpected sparkle in her eyes. Why? Did she enjoy ball busting?

Now that the two men were alone in the room, Morrow leaned back in his chair, put his arms behind his head and stretched.

“Whew, now you know why I tease her about her name being Water Walker. Once she gets on a case, she has to be perfect. She doesn’t let up for a minute. Sorry you were on the receiving end, Hubert.”

“I go by Shadow, remember?”

“Shadow. Of course. Sorry.”

The forced familiarity in the agent’s tone gave the game away. They’d been pretty good at it, up to now. What a fool Shadow had been! They were playing a game of Good Cop-Bad Cop. That was the reason Morrow had invited him for coffee and a friendly chat before the session. Walker had probably been in the building the entire time, and it explained the glint in her eyes; she’d been amused because she was putting him on.

“That’s okay, Dave,” he said, matching the agent’s tone of familiarity. “I can see where she’s coming from. It’s pretty hard to believe, I suppose, that I
happened
to be in the right place to find those two bodies so easily.”

He knew they didn’t believe him as far as the pigs went. Maybe they even considered him a suspect—and he had been so free and easy with Morrow. Even though they had not discussed the Gordon case, Morrow had surely learned a lot about Shadow’s character and the way he thought.

“I’ve been thinking, Shadow—about the pigs that is. I was wondering if you hadn’t come up with your story to get the warden off your back. My theory is you might have smelled the remains, since you told me your sense of smell is nearly as acute as your vision. Once the arm was uncovered, the wind might have brought the scent to you.”

Shadow slipped a jellybean into his mouth. “Have I mentioned my grandmother to you?”

“Well, yes, you said she was a bit eccentric.” The agent’s expression was puzzled.

“My grandmother was...well I guess you’d call her a shaman, a holy woman.” He was exaggerating; Min had dabbled in mysticism, astrology, UFO’s, anything on the fringes, but Morrow wouldn’t know that. “She knew how to read portents, figure out why a woman couldn’t conceive or in what hole of the river the fish were hiding during winter. She taught me a lot about the world, made me one with the animals and the river creatures. I learned a lot from her. Sometimes I feel a bit of otherworldly mystery myself.”

Shadow suddenly became aware he was telling the truth. He’d been feeling the invisible currents of the world more strongly than ever since finding the first body, but he’d been trying to ignore it. He may have left home more than half his life ago, but he remained Min’s grandson.

He looked the F.B.I. man in the eye and continued. “To be honest, I didn’t tell the whole story about the pigs. I was afraid no one would believe me if I told the truth.”

Shadow leaned forward conspiratorially and spoke softly as though imparting a secret that would unravel the mysteries of the universe.

“You see, Dave.” He put the overly friendly inflection in his voice again. “I have magical powers. I talk to the animals and the animals talk to me. I met the pig on the beach and, after we chatted for a while about the weather, he told me of the body of a human in the dunes and gave me directions to find it. He even drew me a map.”

As he rose from his chair, he saw Morrow’s expression change to anger as the F.B.I agent realized he was putting him on. Shadow slammed the door behind him as he left.

It was only on the drive back to the park that he began to regret his wisecrack.

Chapter Eight

Was her throat torn, too?

Shadow stopped to do some shopping on his way back, and then went directly to his house upon reaching the park. He was putting groceries away when he heard a truck pull up outside. Glancing out a window, he saw Alex walking toward the front porch, so he went and swung open the front door.

“Hey, Alex. Come on in.”

Alex walked in carrying a folded newspaper. “Hi, Shadow. How’d the thing with the F.B.I. go?”

“Great. Just peachy. Come on in the kitchen, I’m putting stuff away. Want a coke or something?”

“No thanks,” Alex answered as he followed Shadow to the other room. “So what’s the verdict?”

Shadow opened the freezer door and began pulling ice cream and other frozen goods from bags. “I thought about it on the way back. From what I can gather, I think they suspect I killed that girl and was revisiting the burial site. You know, like the killer always goes back to the scene of the crime. Maybe they thought I was making sure she was still buried, I don’t know. The refuge warden said there were no pig tracks—thanks a lot, Warden Can’t-find-your-ass-with-both-hands Moorcock!”

Alex laughed. “You’ve got that right! Don’t worry, though, I’m sure they’re only covering all the bases.”

Shadow snorted. “My ass. There was a woman F.B.I. agent who damn near said I was lying.” He closed the freezer and started stuffing things into cabinets.

“You’re not going to be happy with how the commissioner is taking this either,” Alex said. “He said you were ‘meddling’ again.”

Shadow spun around. Barnett! Crap, he’d forgotten about that, with the F.B.I. thing. “What was I supposed to...? I mean, when I saw the hand, I had to follow it up. Didn’t I?”

“Not according to Barnett. I managed to calm him down, though, by pointing out you were performing your normal duties when a strange situation came up. He’s still upset about the bad publicity the park is getting, but...” Alex shrugged. “He’s off your case for now.”

“What publicity? Why? The body was in the refuge!”

“And that may be the only thing keeping Barnett from taking off your head. You remember that reporter, Helen Parsons?”

Shadow nodded.

Alex unfolded his newspaper and held it up. Halfway down the page, Shadow saw a headline: ‘Body of Beach Woman Found Buried in Wildlife Refuge.’

“Okay, yeah,” Shadow said. “At least it says ‘wildlife refuge’—not ‘state park.’”

Alex twisted his lips in a wry grin. “She took this latest, uh, incident and put it together with the two kayakers who died.” He handed over the paper.

Shadow spread it out on the counter. Unconsciously, he ripped open a candy bar and nibbled on it as he began to read. The
Virginian Pilot
had taken the Amanda Gordon story and made it sound like the Frankenstein monster had been shocked back to life for one more go-round and was running around the Back Bay area like a psychotic Energizer Bunny, looking for women to kill. Helen Parson’s name was on the byline.

The article didn’t mention Shadow; it said local authorities had discovered the body. Without many details, the paper played up the “foul play suspected angle.” False Cape State Park was mentioned only peripherally as the site where two girls had recently died in a kayaking accident, “ ...with mysterious, unexplained wounds.”

Shadow whistled. “Barnett must have thrown a shit-fit when he read this.”

Alex grinned. “That’s a perfect description of his reaction.”

“It doesn’t say anything about how this latest girl died,” Shadow said. “Was her throat torn, too?”

“I have no idea,” Alex answered. “The F.B.I. is keeping a tight lid on the details.”

“But I need to know...”

“Uh-uh!” Alex interrupted. “You stay clear of it—Barnett, remember?”

“Of course, Bossman. I just wondered if this Helen Parsons knows more than we do, or if she’s only guessing when she links these deaths together.”

Alex shook his head. “Shadow, Shadow, Shadow, what am I going to do with you? We’re not detectives, and that reporter is just sensationalizing it to sell papers. If she had more, she’d have put it in the story.” He turned to leave. “Anyway, it’s the F.B.I.’s problem now. Let’s get back to work.”

Over the next several days, Shadow continued his normal duties, although things were hardly normal. There were more cops in the park than tourists or campers, who were apparently frightened away by the continuing newspaper coverage. Shadow kept abreast of the articles, but there was little in the way of information except that the Gordon case was labeled a definite homicide.

Twice during his trips through the wildlife refuge, he saw Agents Morrow and Walker riding around in a white sedan with federal plates. Another time, he saw the car sitting in one of the three gravel spaces in front of the False Cape Contact Station. He assumed the agents were inside talking to Alex, as the chief ranger’s four-wheel-drive pick-up was also present.

One cloudy but sweltering afternoon when the sky hung over the park like a wet, gray blanket, he came upon Helen Parsons bicycling through the park. She stopped, put one foot down, and then waved for him to stop, her shirt dark with sweat. He considered driving by but then felt sorry for her; not many women—or men either—would go to such extreme physical effort to get a story. Besides, they were in the middle of nowhere; Barnett would never know and Helen Parsons might know something important. Not that I’ll start snooping again, he quickly told himself. He pulled up beside her and leaned out the window.

“Hello, Shadow,” she said. She smiled and wiped sweat from her forehead. Her face was growing red from the sun.

“Hello, yourself. What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

“As if you can’t guess. I know you found the Gordon woman. Look, I’d really like to ask you a few questions.”

“I’m sorry.” Shadow shook his head from side to side. “I’d like to help you but I really don’t know a lot about it. It’s being investigated by the F.B.I. since she was found on federal land.”

“I know, but I was hoping you might be able to tell me if her throat was injured, since you found her.”

“All I saw was her arm,” he said. “The rest of her was under the sand and nobody’s told me anything since. I thought you’d know, to tell the truth.”

“Damn,” she said. “I was hoping...I’ve got a few contacts with the local police but they either don’t know or won’t tell me.”

Shadow decided to come clean. “Look, I’m sorry; I’d tell you if I knew but even if I did, Commissioner Barnett has ordered me to stay completely away from the investigation. I was doing a little snooping around when this latest girl disappeared and he didn’t like it.”

She smiled. “Barnett, huh? That figures. I remember him from that pig-shooting incident a while back. He’s a total jerk, which brings up another thing I want to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“What do you know about the park being closed down?”

He jerked his head back, bumping it against the top of the window. “Closed? This park? You’re kidding.”

“It’s only a rumor so far, but I got a lead from a friend in Richmond. She heard I was doing some investigating down here. The governor is looking to trim the budget. False Cape is under-utilized and on his short list of unnecessary expenditures.”

Shadow was dumbstruck. He had come to love False Cape and, if he lost his job, no other place would be able to match the solitude and tranquility here. Most of the other parks in the state had nothing to compare. Accessible by road, they were jammed with cars, tents and mobile homes nearly every weekend. Any ranger stationed in those parks was little more than a glorified parking attendant and canoe-rental clerk. A wildlife encounter was likely to be a drunken camper.