by Chris Hechtl
“I'm trying to but we're getting stonewalled,” she said, glaring right back, “by the same Preserve people you are asking us to kiss ass. They still refuse to tell us what the hell we're hunting!”
Matt nodded. “She's right, Dad. They are throwing every road block they can out at us. They've even tried to take evidence,” Matt cautioned. His father grimaced.
“All right, I'll see what I can do. Just don't step on any toes,” he cautioned them and then left, slamming the door behind him. Shirley winced.
<)>~^^~<(>/
Back at the lab, Shirley got another report. Bobby found new blood samples for comparison. “I was right; the prelims are in. It isn't human, nor is it mammalian at all,” she said half-bewildered. “I thought it was a mistake but … well, look.” She flapped the report and then handed it over.
Shirley studied it. “Avian definitely,” Bobby said, pointing a finger. “See? But like nothing I've ever seen. And as far as I can tell it, matches the blood and tissue in the dog's mouth. I'm waiting on Molly's report to confirm.”
“Right, well, send it out to an independent lab for confirmation,” Shirley asked. Bobby blinked at her. “Shirl, Molly isn't swamped, what gives?”
“Let's just say I don't like the company she's keeping now. And her last report was off. Waay off.”
Bobby's expression changed immediately. She sucked in a breath, Molly was a friend and coworker. To accuse her of …. “Crap, now I don’t want to know,” she muttered.
“But I do,” Shirley retorted. Bobby shook her head. “And she's basically calling you an incompetent ass,” she said. Bobby froze and then turned to glare at her. Shirley slowly nodded.
The ornithologist doctor, Aaliyah Rowland, Matt had contacted got the sample and was immediately interested. She called Matt, clearly excited. They talked for a bit. Matt laid it out for her, and then uploaded some images of his castings of the footprints. When she started to break it down for him, he put her on speaker phone.
“The scales you sent me are similar to leg scales on a Cassowary or another large bird. I'm waiting on DNA for a definitive answer,” she told him.
“Thanks, Aaliyah, I owe you one,” he told her. He caught Shirley's mild look of amusement and slight jealousy. He smirked at her. She rolled her eyes.
“You take care now,” she told them. “They are dangerous and have been known to kill,” she warned. “Predators, Matt. Big ones.”
He was suddenly grim. “Are you kidding me? An oversized chicken?” he asked.
She laughed. “Oh my, no!” His eyes narrowed at the phone. “Look it up, you dork! Think ostrich. Ever seen their legs? Even one of them can kill if it kicks you!” He blinked. She nodded at him in earnest. “Uh huh. And a Cassowary has claws on their feet and a mean attitude. They will keep kicking till you’re dead. They'll shred you.”
“Ah.”
When Shirley heard that, she looked the animals up. She didn't really put it together with what the woman had said until she found an image comparing them to a human. That put it in perspective. Matt looked over his shoulder and whistled. “Thanks for the warning, Aaliyah,” he said.
“I'm on my way there. I can't wait to see what you've found!” she said.
“Drive safe,” he said.
“Don't worry. If I get a ticket, you'll fix it for me,” she said with a grin in her voice. He shook his head. Shirley chuckled.
“We'll do that. Just get here,” she said, pitching her voice to the scientist.
“I'm loading up now,” Aaliyah stated.
Shirley and Matt compared notes with Bobby. They pulled up the material on the birds the ornithologist had mentioned, then showed it to the forensic scientist.
“Brenda needs to see this,” she said.
They went to the coroner. She reported the bodies had been mauled to death, definitely by an animal. “Some seemed to have blunt force trauma, almost like they had been bludgeoned with a wedge shaped object. If I didn't know any better, I'd … never mind,” Brenda said shaking her head.
They take castings of the wound tracks and sent copies of pics and castings off to others. Matt used a laser scanner to scan the wounds and positive mold impressions, then sent them off to other labs. They found conical shaped teeth in the impressions. They were curved.
They compared the sheath they had with the wounds that were from the claw marks. It was a match.
“They ruled out the bird, so it can't be right, right?” Bobby asked, looking up to the two deputies. “Not one with teeth and claws.” She shook her head firmly in denial. Brenda shook her head.
“Well, they do have toe claws, remember?” Shirley showed her a close up image of a bird's foot. “You're the CSI gal, pal; if the evidence is pointing in that direction …,” she let that thought linger.
Bobby wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I get that. But … the teeth?” She shook her head. “That doesn't match.”
“Right, that one doesn't make sense I admit,” she said with a shake of her head. “But we've got another problem. We haven't seen any hair, remember? No fur, nothing like that.”
“Well, I did see that feather but … still, no birds have teeth!”
<)>~^^~<(>/
Phillip Fitzroy, a rich big game hunter, came on the scene. He was British, in his forties, and a notorious playboy. He was also infamous for his desire to buck the system and continue to hunt big game despite society’s dim views on such things. He was apparently a customer of the Preserve and had been on his way in to do a bit of hunting to test out some new gear. He immediately volunteered to help, wrapping one arm around Matt's shoulders. He had a pack of bear dogs and a couple of beaters with him. Matt felt intense relief when he saw them and the gear the men had. “I've got the experience; you need me,” he said.
Matt reluctantly nodded. That was all the opening Fitzroy needed to see. “I wonder if this will be as hairy as my trip to Africa ten, no, nine years ago,” he said, running a hand through his sandy hair. Matt raised an eyebrow and then tipped his hat back with his thumb tip.
“Yes indeed. See, I'd gone there to do a spot of hunting. Nothing too dramatic, I'm not into rhino or elephant. Nothing endangered really. I'd heard the natives had some problem lions so I thought I'd be of some help while my guide looked for some Cape buffalo,” he told Matt. Matt nodded.
“But it turned out I was the one being hunted,” the hunter said with a laugh. “By the Cape buffalo of all things,” he said with a grin of expectation.
“Cape buffalo?” Matt asked in amusement.
“Yeah, they are a nasty breed in Africa. Scary I'll tell you! They look the same as other water buffalo, but they are highly aggressive. They have been known to hunt people and predators. Sort of turning the tables. It's a lively hunt I'm telling you!”
“Are you serious? A buffalo?” Matt asked in disbelief.
The hunter nodded soberly. He pointed to a scar on his forearm. “I was lucky mate; the female came out of the bush behind me. She got my guide and wounded me. I got a lucky shot off though. Elephant gun, it was damned loud, blew my eardrum out but it ripped her throat out.” He grimaced. “It didn't help the guide though. Poor blighter,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Yeah,” Matt replied with a grimace. “Let's hope that doesn't happen here.”
“Nah, mate, I think this here is going to be worse. This one's got a taste for blood. Not good.”
“Crap,” Matt breathed.
<)>~^^~<(>/
Matt found more evidence of something in the bush—tracks, clearly from where the animal came in to ambush the people. But Shirley found the same tracks, and hers were a hundred yards away from his position. When they compared notes, they realized there was more than one animal. “They acted in concert.”
“A lion? A pride of lions?”
“I don't know,” Matt murmured. “They have three toes, long ones. Not a cat.” He shook his head. “What the hell is it?” he demanded. Since the tracks were different sizes but m
uddied up, they couldn't quite get a perfect shape. They found evidence of intelligence though in how the attack had been arranged. They backtracked from the ambush site into the brush.
Finally, after Matt and Shirley kept beating at the bush until his back ached, he got a couple clear tracks. They were indeed three-toed, long toes with claws on the tips. He took photos and then made castings of each.
When the sounds of the forest cut out, Matt realized they were being stalked. “I think the tables have turned,” he murmured, looking about them nervously.
“Shit,” Shirley murmured, eyes swiveling about.
“Time to retreat. We need more people and more weapons,” Matt said, practically pushing her out of the area. He got them to the SUV just as the bushes rustled nearby. They didn't fire but were sorely tempted.
“What if it's a bear or some kid?” she asked softly, covering the bush with her 9mm. Matt nodded as he slowly opened the door on her side.
“Firing two!” Shirley yelled, firing a round off into the air. She waited a beat and then fired another. She then pulled the clip and swapped it for another as whatever had been stalking them retreated.
They heard the sounds of cawing, clucks, and barks fade away after a moment. Matt looked around. “That was coming from multiple directions,” he observed. Shirley nodded.
When their eyes met, they hugged each other and then kissed.
“Well, that was fun,” she said shaking. “I think we blew our best chance at getting them though. At least for now.”
“Something tells me we'll get another shot,” Matt replied dryly. “But on our terms.”
“Definitely,” Shirley vowed. She wasn't certain if her trusty pistol would have had the stopping power to take down whatever had been stalking them. The hunters who had been killed had had larger more powerful weapons. If they could be taken out, then two trained officers may not have stood a chance.
“Did they rattle the bush to draw our attention to it I wonder?” Matt mused.
“You can't tell me they are that smart.”
“I don't know what they are,” Matt said. “Do you?”
Shirley grimaced and shook her head. “True.”
“So we can't take anything for granted right now,” he said then exhaled slowly. “Not exactly how I planned to spend the day with you,” he agreed. She couldn't help herself; as the adrenalin started to wear off, she grinned. She was still feeling a hysterical edge. “So, wanna get married?” she asked.
He snorted.
“No, seriously, Matt,” she said. She pulled out her purse and showed him a tube. He opened it and looked inside with a curious expression. He took the stick out and looked again, then at her in stunned disbelief. “I just found out myself this morning,” she murmured, watching him carefully.
He stared shocked. She giggled a little at his flummoxed expression. “Close your mouth; flies will get in.”
He blinked and then cupped her cheek with his fingertips and kissed her. She kissed him back passionately.
Jessie called on the radio. On the second call, he hit the mike transmitter with his elbow. “Mmmm, yeah?”
“Matt, boss wants to see you. The hunter bagged it!”
“Not likely,” Shirley muttered grimly as they settled back down.
Chapter 3
Fitzroy called in to the sheriff's office a few minutes later. He was in high spirits; they could tell because Monica was grinning when she put him on speaker phone. Shirley rested her arms on the countertop and listened intently. “I've bagged your killer, deputies, so no need to worry the tax payers further. You can come pick him up while the reporters get their shots for the evening news,” he said smugly.
“You got the birds?” Matt asked dubiously.
“Bird? Oh no, mate, I won't spoil the surprise. Come see for yourself,” Fitzroy said with a grin in his voice. He hung up with a click.
“Smug bastard,” Eddy said, looking over Monica's shoulder. She shrugged such things off.
“He is that,” Shirley said with a shake of her head. “Wait, he said one?”
“One what?” Matt asked.
“One animal he said. He said he's bagged our killer. Killer single, but he won't say what it is,” she said.
“Are you sure there was more than one?” Monica asked carefully. Shirley turned a glower on her. She held up her hands. “Sorry, just asking,” she murmured. “I'm going to get some coffee,” she said, getting up and letting Eddy take over the dispatcher's seat.
Matt shook his head. There was only one way to be sure. “Let's go then,” Matt said, waving her out. “Not going to grab your jacket?” he asked. When she turned a look on him, he shook his head. The days were hot, but the nights could get cool with the wind. “Suit yourself,” he murmured, grabbing her jacket anyway.
<)>~^^~<(>/
They followed the hunter's direction to get to the scene. People were milling about; many slapping each other's backs or hugging. There was a lot of strained relief in the voices Shirley noted. Photographers and reporters were already on the scene, which annoyed Matt. “Who called them in?” he demanded, nodding his chin to the unwanted media.
“Who do you think?” Shirley retorted, shaking her head. “Mister wonder boy, of course. He wants his day to shine as the ‘hero,’” she said in disgust.
They found the hunter propping up the head of a dead tiger for a reporter. When the reporter asked him to open its mouth, he just shook his head and changed the subject, going on about how the thing nearly got him.
Shirley and Matt checked it out from the back of the group. Matt crossed his arms and looked around the scene. From his expert eye, none of what the hunter said in his story matched the tracks and evidence around them. But the media people were eating it all up.
Shirley sniffed and then turned. She pulled out her cell phone and quietly called Bobby and a crew in to move the body. “Get Jed with his flatbed. This thing's big,” she said. “It's got a crane on it, right?” She nodded. “Right then.” She hung up. “She saw the report. She's already on her way.”
<)>~^^~<(>/
When Bobby arrived she snapped some gloves on and then went to work. She took pictures and then checked the tiger's teeth and paws while the hunter went over to a stump, put his foot up on it, and then started to regal a young female reporter with his Cape buffalo story.
Bobby hummed slightly, using a scraper and some card stock to collect samples. Bits of fur were in the crevasses. The animal was splashed in blood. She checked the tiger’s claws and then quietly called the deputies over.
“What'cha got, Bobsie?” Matt drawled.
“This,” Bobby murmured. She pushed down on the toe and the claw came out, or what was left of it. The tiger had been declawed. She checked the teeth again then shook her head. Quietly she pointed out to them that the teeth had been filed down.
“You want my opinion, I'd say this is not your killer. It's someone's pet or from some zoo somewhere nearby.” She pulled out a scanner and ran a sweep. When she found something, she pulled out a pair of forceps and a scalpel and dug it out. She held it up for them to view then stuck it in a bag.
They looked over to the hunter who was giving a press conference, quite proud of his achievement. Grimly, Matt went to go over, but Shirley held him back.
“No. Let him say his piece on the record for all to hear. He's only hanging himself.” She murmured to him.
When the hunter looked over to them, he saw their grim faces. He turned away, and then subtly guided the reporters away from the scene.
<)>~^^~<(>/
Matt stayed with the scene, so Shirley went into the office with Bobby and the others. She talked to the coroner with Bobby; the coroner's report suddenly matched the attack of a tiger. “Brenda, what the hell's wrong with you?” Shirley snarled. Lack of sleep and the stink of corruption were getting to her. “I've known you for ten years! You know better than this!” She shook her head. “It ain't no damned tiger! It has three toes! Long c
laws on the tips! There was more than one!”
Bobby nodded in support. She crossed her arms and glared for all she was worth. The coroner looked away guiltily. She cleared her throat. “We're done here. I think you'd better leave.”
“Right well, we'll see about this mess. You'd better look for another job, Brenda,” Shirley snarled, making the other woman look at her. She shook her head and stormed out. Bobby followed in her wake.
She got a call from the sheriff to meet him and the chief. “Now,” Richard said over phone loud enough for Bobby to hear from where she was and wince.
“Yes, boss. Now means now,” Shirley said as she hung up. “Wanna bet it's going to be a wash?”
“You are so cynical. It can't be.”
“Bet you five bucks,” Shirley said. When Bobby didn't rise to the bait, she snorted. “See?”
“Oh shut up and drive.”
<)>~^^~<(>/
They met Richard and the chief at the sheriff's office. Some of the suits from the Preserve as well as from the county supervisor's office were there. “You need to call this off. It's over and done with.” Richard said bluntly.
Shirley scowled blackly. “Now wait a minute. What about ….”
“Molly's report matches the tiger,” he told them.
“Funny. It's not what it said initially. Nor the prelims,” Bobby said. The chief glared at her but she ignored it. She sighed and shook her head, running a frustrated hand through her short hair. “Boss, this tiger didn't do it. First off, it didn't have claws.”
The chief blinked in confusion at her.
She nodded, cold sober. “That's right, they declawed it.” He frowned at her. When he opened his mouth to object, she went on. “Second, it didn't have teeth. At least not sharp teeth. Those had been filed down. They do not match the bite wounds,” she warned. He blinked at her, and then turned to the lawyers. They were scowling at the forensic tech.
“Third, I didn't find any tiger saliva, footprints, or fur at the crime scene,” she told him. He scowled blackly. “That is in my report, and I am not changing it. What I did find was feathers and down. Lots of them. Plus avian skin samples.” She let them digest that for a moment then went on. “And fourth …,” Bobby held up a baggy with a small chip in it.
