Читать книгу Raising the Stakes - Karen Rock - Страница 11
ОглавлениеLIAM HOPPED INTO his black SUV an hour later and backed out of the vet-office parking lot, his mind focused more on the investigation than the road.
Gut instinct told him someone had shot the cub’s mother last night, and the scared orphan had followed its nose to food and shelter. He cranked the wheel, heading back to Vivie’s neighbors’ house.
Poachers.
Had to be.
The visiting nephews might be here on a fishing trip or they might not. His fingers tapped the wheel, his jaw tight. Either way, he’d get to the bottom of it. Eight years on the job and it still surprised him how quickly people confessed when a uniformed officer knocked on their door.
He didn’t expect trouble. Not from the men. The spitfire he’d left at the clinic, on the other hand...she was a handful. Just as she’d vowed, she’d followed him and the bear in a beat-up pickup, tailgating him all the way despite the winding roads. Steel lurked beneath her pretty face and expressive eyes.
She’d put up a fight when he returned for the bear. No doubt about it. Hopefully, he wouldn’t find the mother dead and could release the cub to rejoin its parent. The other alternative, however...
The ugly thought lingered. He’d never been a hunter. Didn’t relish killing, though he’d done his duty as a marine in Afghanistan. His mind veered from those brutal memories.
Ending a young animal’s life was horrible. Yet the cub couldn’t survive on its own, and without a trained caregiver, humanely putting it down might be the only option.
Unless he considered Vivie’s outrageous proposal...
He punched on the radio, the music overriding his crazy thoughts. Of course he wouldn’t let a novice take on such a large task, even under his supervision. Vivie didn’t have a clue what it entailed.
Plus, she was already acting possessive of the cub. If he went along with her plan, she’d still have to surrender it when he released it this fall. If the jaw didn’t heal properly, he’d need to find a permanent home at an animal reserve or sanctuary. Would she be able to let it go? He doubted it. She seemed like the type to get emotionally involved.
He shook his head, thankful he’d never let himself get attached to anyone or any place...not after the war. Room. Freedom. That was what he needed.
When he opened the windows, the rushing air making him want to follow wherever it led. His sister Mary Ann accused him of having wanderlust and he didn’t correct her. She couldn’t know what’d really happened to him in Kunar, Afghanistan. None of his family needed the extra pressure while they helped his twin brother, Niall—also an army vet—deal with losing his leg. Instead, Liam kept what had happened to him buried deep, wishing he could hide it from himself, too.
Every few years the compulsion to get out was too intense, so he relocated. He’d been investigating positions in Yellowstone National Park lately, the familiar pressure growing stronger and heavier each day. Hopefully it wouldn’t be difficult to get time off for Mary Ann’s August wedding if he got hired.
Mammoth fir trees flashed by as he whizzed up Vivie’s road, the majestic sentinels impressive as always. A small brook wove along the roadside, its water sparkling under the strengthening sun. Cedar-scented air filled his lungs.
As he rounded a bend, a smallish home, two stories, with white siding and a red tin roof came into view. He’d passed it on his way to Vivie’s this morning and noted that the mailbox number matched the address she’d given him. He pulled in behind a navy truck parked in front of a detached, single-car garage. As he eased outside, a large pit bull perked up its ears, then raced toward him, barking and straining against its chain.
“Easy, big guy,” Liam murmured, pitching his voice low and firm. The dog’s massive jaws snapped a foot short of his leg. Liam’s eyes roamed over the thick metal links wrapped around a willow tree, an overturned water bowl and a bone the size of his calf resting beneath it. He gave the animal a wide berth and strode up to the porch, his hand automatically running over his Glock and flipping open the holster’s snap. It paid to be ready in case these guys surprised him.
He rang the bell a few times, then tugged open the metal screen to knock, peering through the side glass panels. An empty living room and a narrow hall were visible. Little else. Still, with a vehicle on the premises, his suspects could be out back.
He shooed away the blackflies nagging at his ears and paced around the house, listening for voices.
Tinkling wind chimes sounded and birds called out their territory from the surrounding trees. Otherwise, silence reigned. When he rounded the house’s rear corner he pulled up short, the air sticking inside his lungs.
A black bear hung from a massive maple, rope tying its paws to a thick limb. He smothered an exclamation, his worst suspicions confirmed when he noted the animal’s swollen teats. A lactating female. Most likely the cub’s mother. He pulled out his cell phone and snapped a couple of photos.
Had the men answered the front door, any evidence he found without a search warrant wouldn’t be admissible. Yet glimpsing it while trying to contact them at the back door—that would squeak by the judge. And these guys would see their day in court.
His eyes narrowed as he turned away from the bear. He’d haul them in today. Vivie had mentioned they weren’t New Yorkers. Out-of-state meant flight risk and an appearance before the bench. His lips stretched in a grim smile. Justice was sweetest when served fast.
After another regretful look at the beautiful animal, he called in backup, then marched up concrete-block steps and rapped on the door. When no one answered, he pounded on it again, using the side of his fist. He doubted the hunters would leave their prize unguarded. They were skulking inside and someone better open the door, quick, before his patience ran out.
Poachers.
The lowest life-form on the planet.
“Open up. DEC!” he ordered loudly.
At last a man swung the door open, his eyes red and puffy, dark stubble shading his sagging jaw, chin and neck. At the sight of Liam, he straightened his slouch, his lax mouth closing.
Liam flashed his badge. “Officer Walsh. May I come in?”
The man nodded, then seemed to remember he had a voice. “Uh, yeah.” His eyes darted over Liam’s shoulder to the bear, then swerved back. “Come in.”
Liam stepped inside a small, square kitchen littered with beer cans and a nearly empty pizza box on the table. He scrunched his nose at the sour smell of cheap malt and sweat, and noted a high-powered rifle with a scope leaning in the far corner. No signs of fishing gear...
Liam pulled out his notebook and spoke, keeping his voice neutral. Measured. “If anyone else is here, go get them.”
The man dug at his ear and gaped at him.
“Now,” Liam repeated, his voice harder. This wasn’t a social call. Not by a stretch.
The man hurried off, his loose belly jiggling over a pair of boxers. When he returned, another man trudged behind the first, his face pinched, skin pale. In contrast to his fleshy friend, his limbs were elongated and sticklike, kneecaps nearly cutting through flesh.
“Any more weapons in the house?”
The thin man nodded, his eyes darting around the kitchen like hummingbirds. “My rifle.”
“Go get it.” Liam wasn’t worried about these guys pulling anything on him. Besides, his backup would be here in minutes.
The guy whirled and disappeared the way he’d come.
“ID?”
“I’m Tim Favero and that’s my brother Matt.” Tim lumbered over to a couple of flannel jackets hanging on the backs of chairs, pulled out wallets and fished out Montana driver’s licenses.
Liam scribbled down the information, then glanced up as Matt returned carrying his weapon.
“This is it.” He placed his gun beside the pizza box, scattering empty cans. They clattered to the floor and rolled.
“How’d that bear end up in the backyard?” Liam stared them down. Tim lowered his gaze and Matt’s mouth worked for a moment.
“Someone needs to start talking,” Liam barked. “Now.”
“I-it’s ours,” Matt sputtered, cracking his bony knuckles.
“Looks like it’s been shot.”
“Tim got it last night. About eight miles west of here.”
Matt ducked his head at his brother’s accusing stare and scratched the back of his neck.
“Could have been your shot,” Tim’s voice rose, accusingly. “We only had the one floodlight and we both fired at her.”
An argument broke out, silenced when Liam held up a hand. “You knew it was a female right away?”
The men quieted and studied their feet. At last, Tim said, “Saw a cub run up a tree, I guess.”
A sinking feeling settled in Liam’s gut. No doubt about it. Vivie’s cub was orphaned. Would need to be put down. He dragged his mind off the miserable thought. He had to focus on this job first. Hopefully his backup would arrive soon so he could ticket them and call the judge. Get things on a predictable, all-too-familiar track.
“You two have hunting licenses?”
Matt nodded, his movement jerky as he pulled the paperwork from their wallets.
Liam scanned the Montana paperwork, then glanced up. “You got some for New York?”
Tim shrugged. “Didn’t think it was necessary. We hunt big game out there.”
Liam willed the irritation off his face. Every hunter knew to get a state license. What a wise guy.
“Off season?”
The guys exchanged an uneasy glance. “No,” Matt squeaked.
“So you thought you’d come to the Adirondacks and try it?”
“Yes. I mean, no,” Matt’s answer changed at a sharp glance from his brother. “I don’t know,” he added lamely, shoving back a greasy lock of hair.
“Are these the weapons you used last night?” Liam pointed at the rifles.
The men nodded. “We’ve got our gun permits.”
Liam didn’t doubt it. Still, it paid to double-check. “Let’s see them.”
As Tim grabbed the paperwork, a loud barking erupted. Backup. Liam breathed a sigh of relief. These guys were cooperating, but an extra pair of hands would make this easier.
“Matt. Call off your dog and let in my colleague. He’ll be coming up to the front door now.”
“Got it.” The man smiled unevenly and stumbled away.
Were these guys still drunk? Hungover from celebrating last night’s kill? Worse, had they been intoxicated while shooting near Vivie’s house? The thought stabbed through him. She shouldn’t be living on her own so deep in the woods.
He studied the gun permits then looked up when another officer, James Ruffalo, strode into the room, his back as straight as his pants’ crease. Since they were the same age—twenty-seven—and had joined the department around the same time, they’d hung out and become friends.
“I’m Officer Ruffalo.” He nodded curtly to Tim then glanced at Liam, a grim smile ghosting across his face. “Officer Walsh.”
“James.” Liam jerked his chin. “They’re getting ticketed and then arraigned since they’re out of state. I’d appreciate you taking Tim to the courthouse while Matt and I follow.”
“Got it.”
“We’re going to court?” sputtered Tim, his body shaking in indignation, his thick face flushing red. James shot him a stern look that settled him down. Matt, on the other hand, grew paler, a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead and upper lip.
Liam pulled out another pad and began writing. In the tense silence, James headed to the back window and whistled long and sharp at what Liam guessed was his sighting of the dead bear. Matt repeatedly cleared his throat. After a couple of minutes, Liam clicked his pen, ripped off the last slip and handed a small pile of paper to Tim.
“You’re being ticketed with the following misdemeanors—taking wildlife out of season, illegally taking wildlife and taking a bear with the use of artificial light, as well as hunting without a license—a violation.”
“Both of us?” Matt picked up an open beer can and drained what was left of it.
Liam nodded. “Let’s go, boys.”
Just as he’d hoped, they followed him and James, a textbook arrest.
If only the woman waiting back at the vet clinic would be as easy to handle...
* * *
“MISS HARRIS, WE have the results for the cub.”
Vivie stood and straightened her cramped back. How long had she been sitting in that plastic chair? It felt like hours. She scanned her cell-phone screen, the time confirming her suspicions.
“How is she, Doctor Morrison?”
The pretty veterinarian smiled, the creases around her mouth and eyes deepening. “Her jaw was dislocated. Looks like she hit it hard—maybe in a fall. Hopefully it will heal properly now that I’ve reset it or she’ll have trouble feeding in the wild. Otherwise, she’s dehydrated and stressed, but healthy. No life-threatening issues.”
Vivie’s joints loosened and her breath rushed in, easier than it had this morning.
“So she’ll be all right.”
Doctor Morrison freed her gray-streaked braid from her name tag then nodded. “As long as her jaw heals well, there’s no impediment to her living a long life.”
None except Officer Walsh...
Vivie wondered what had kept him so long. She’d thought he’d be back in an hour or so, but was glad for the chance to delay whatever he had in mind for the bear’s future. Rather than dwell on the negative, she’d spent her time studying the DEC’s online material for the certification test. If Officer Walsh had been around, he might have said it was unnecessary, bursting the lovely plans inflating in her head.
“May I see her?”
The doctor nodded and gestured behind her. “Right this way. We had to sedate her earlier, so she might be a bit sleepy.”
Vivie entered a spacious room with several cages, all empty except one.
Her pulse leaped at the sight of the small black animal behind metal bars, her claws poking through them.
“Hi, sweetie.” She stuck a finger inside and stroked the cub’s nose, making her lids lift slowly, her deep brown eyes meeting Vivie’s.
Immediately, the bear jerked to her feet and pressed against the cage door, grunting.
“It’s okay.” Vivie imagined the poking and prodding she’d gotten today. No wonder she was disoriented and frightened. What a long ordeal for such a young animal. “Everything is going to be all right from now on. Promise.”
She turned to the doctor. “May I hold her?”
The veterinarian studied her then nodded slowly. “Just for a moment. We’re not supposed to let wild animals around people, but you were so good to those animals last winter.” They smiled at each other, remembering when Vivie had sought medical attention for the lame critter she’d found by her dumpster.
The doctor lifted the latch and swung open the door, gently pulling out the struggling bear.
“She’s heavier than she looks!” Vivie exclaimed, holding her tight when Doctor Morrison handed her over.
“Twenty-three pounds. A little underweight, actually, but within range. ”
Vivie inhaled the musky, clean scent of the cub, pulling her warm body closer still. She sniffed Vivie and seemed to relax. Vivie held in a laugh at the ticklish wet nose poking her ear.
The doctor stroked the cub’s back. “She likes you. She gave the vet tech a bit of a hard time earlier. Hardly got her to take half the bottle. But that’s understandable given her dislocation.”
Vivie snuggled the bear closer, kissing the top of her head when she burrowed under Vivie’s chin. “Can I try?”
Dr. Morrison appeared torn. “This is going against policy, but I’d sure like to see her eat.”
A minute later, Vivie was in a rocking chair, a blanket spread on her lap, the cub on its back, pulling hard at the rubber nipple from the uninjured side of her mouth.
“She likes it!” Joy filled Vivie as she watched the hungry youngster eat. The cub held the bottle between her paws, her eyes locked on Vivie’s. Too cute.
“I’m glad she’s eating so well,” observed Dr. Morrison. “Wasn’t sure if she’d be able to do it. But she seems like a pro now. Once the swelling goes down, she should be able to try regular food.”
“Of course she’s a champion.” Vivie smiled, feeling absurdly proud. She’d helped the bear eat. Had saved her last night. Everything about this moment felt right. Meant to be. If only Officer Walsh wasn’t in the picture...
As if on cue, the tall, trim man pushed through the swinging door and came toward them, his face grim.
“Thank you for caring for the bear today, Doctor Morrison.”
The older woman smiled up at him. “Always happy to help out the DEC. Any word about the cub’s mother?”
Vivie tensed, guessing his news from his expression. He glanced at her, his sad eyes belying the firm set of his mouth. “She’s been killed. Just finished up at the court house arraigning the poachers.”
“You’re sure it’s her?” Vivie gasped, fear snaking through her. She contemplated the oblivious cub who’d nearly finished her bottle. Was this her last meal? If the DEC had its way, it would be.
He nodded slowly. “Positive. The men confessed to everything.”
She stroked the cub’s face, imagining armed strangers trekking through her woods, the vicious assault on the mother bear, the frightened orphan with nowhere to turn until it’d found her.
“So then...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence.
Officer Walsh’s face gentled as he gazed at her, then the cub.
“I’ll be taking the bear and you can return to your diner. Thank you, Vivie, for helping today. If there were more people like you, we wouldn’t have these kinds of incidents.”
“I’ll get the cub in its carrier.” Dr. Morrison pulled the bear from Vivie and hurried away, leaving a strained silence behind.
“You’re just like the men you arrested,” Vivie accused when she could speak, despair and fury washing through her. “Killing an innocent animal.”
Officer Walsh took off his hat, his hair flatter than it’d been this morning, the strain around his eyes turning their color to moss.
“I’m performing a legal act. A humane one. The cub’s mother is dead and given her injured jaw and age, she’ll starve on her own.” He touched Vivie’s arm lightly and she jerked away. “I have no choice.”
“You do have a choice. We could save this animal’s life.” She held up her smartphone. “I’ve been studying all day for the test. Give me this chance.”
His eyes widened. “This isn’t about you, it’s about the bear.”
Insulted, she stuffed her cell away. “Yes. An animal you’re supposed to protect. I’m taking this seriously. So should you.”
Silence hung between them, tight and brittle, thrumming.
He glanced over at the eavesdropping vet tech. “Let’s discuss this outside.”
In the parking lot, he stopped beside his black SUV, the DEC police emblem painted in gold. She craned her neck to meet his eyes, hoping for some compassion, understanding, agreement, but the emotion she’d glimpsed earlier was gone, replaced by a shuttered expression.
“I’m taking this very seriously,” he began, his boots planted shoulder width apart, his hands linked behind his back. “Putting the bear down is the only sensible solution.”
“Sensible or easy?” she asked, feeling violent enough to push that mountain of a man. Get him to wake up. Realize how wrong he was.
He rocked back on his heels, as if her words had shoved him.
“It’s not that black-and-white. Let’s say you do pass the test. I help you build a code-approved structure and supervise your apprenticeship. Are you prepared for the rigors of caring for a wild animal? Big game? She could be nearing eighty pounds before she’s released or I locate a permanent home for her.”
The smell of barbecue floated on the late afternoon air and her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten since...when? The doughnut this morning? If anything, that showed how dedicated she was to the cub. To all of her pet family.
“If she’s injured, she’d be better off staying with me. Permanently. No release needed.” The sun slanted over a line of birches, spinning the fine hairs on his arms into gold.
Officer Walsh’s face softened. “That’d be the worst outcome...and unlikely. Wildlife rehabilitators only care for animals until they can either be returned to their habitat or placed in a sanctuary or reserve. Sooner or later you would lose her.”
“Then let it be later!” she cried, pacing. She’d fight that battle when the time came. For now, she had to win this war. Convince him to give her a chance. The bear had sought a home last night and Vivie would give it to her.
“And what about your diner?” He tapped the cleft in his chin. “You’re running a business. Taking care of the cub, especially in the early weeks, will be time-consuming.”
“I can make my own hours. Bake desserts and do the books, the schedules and ordering from home.” She leaned in, sure she could persuade him—if he had a beating heart. “That’s my usual contribution, anyway, since Maggie oversees the cooking and staff. Going in and seeing the customers every day isn’t necessary. Trust me, I’ve got this figured out.”
She clenched her chattering teeth and thought of the years she’d struggled to put her life together after her own attack. Her hands balled at her sides. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let this bear be a victim of circumstances beyond its control. It was a survivor, hadn’t given up. And neither would Vivie.
The bell above the clinic door jingled and Doctor Morrison emerged, lugging the oversize pet carrier. Officer Walsh reached the veterinarian in three long strides and grabbed the handle.
“Thank you, doctor. I appreciate everything you’ve done. Please send the bill to the DEC.”
Doctor Morrison glanced between the two of them then nodded. “Will do. Take care, now.”
Vivie waited until the clinic’s door swung shut to speak again.
“Please give me the cub.”
“We both know that can’t happen.” He placed the carrier atop the SUV, beyond her reach, and opened his trunk. “This is life, Vivie. Not everything, or everyone, gets a happy ending.”
She almost choked. Who knew that better than her? The bear’s fate shouldn’t be decided on someone else’s whim.
When Officer Walsh placed the carrier in the trunk, the little cub rushed to the wire grate and poked out her nose. Vivie thrust her fingers inside and stroked her fur. She met the animal’s wide, frightened eyes, her heart surging.
“You can’t do this,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. Was that a rifle behind the carrier? Would he use it to shoot the little bear?
“It’s the kindest thing I can do for her.” His low words plunged through Vivie.
She whirled, her vision blurring. “You’re nothing but a cold-blooded killer.”
His face tightened as he slammed the trunk and pulled his keys from his pocket.
“It was nice to see you again, Vivie. And believe me. I’m sorry about all of this.”
“I wish I’d never seen you again.” She collapsed against the side of her truck and watched the SUV drive away, her bear inside.
Images of the horrible deed about to unfold flashed through her mind—a nightmarish slideshow. How could she have let this happen?
She leaned her forehead against her pickup’s window.
Another crime was about to be committed, and just like last time, she was helpless to stop it.
