She looked at Steve and saw the reaction she expected: a look of total incredulity. She pressed on. “Hey, you heard Levi and Maggie talking about it. You saw how they really believed what they were saying. To a lot of the Hyde River folks, the dragon’s real. They really believe it’s out there.”
Steve winced at the absurdity of it. “How? How can they believe such a thing?”
“You’re an outsider, Steve, remember that. It’s hard to understand how powerful a tradition can be if you never grew up here. I don’t know how to describe it. The Irish have their leprechauns, the Scots have the Loch Ness monster, every kid grows up with the boogieman in his closet. . . . Listen, I can still remember my grandmother telling me that if I wasn’t a good girl the dragon was going to come and eat me, and yeah, I believed it. You get that idea pounded into your head right along with Santa Claus and the tooth fairy.”
“But usually we outgrow things like that.”
“Santa Claus, yes. The tooth fairy, yes. The dragon . . . no way.”
“But has anyone ever seen it?” Steve posed the question only to point out its obvious answer.
“Well, even if they did they wouldn’t talk about it. There are the old tales, though, about people seeing it.”
Steve smiled wryly. Sure. There were also people who had seen UFOs, Sasquatches, ghosts, and the Virgin Mary in the clouds, mainly because they wanted to. “Well, that doesn’t prove much.”
“I know,” Tracy said. “But there’s more to this belief. And it affects your brother’s death.”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay. Let’s say I’m Harold Bly, owner and president of the Hyde Mining Company, the company that built that town from the beginning. Now Harold’s not much of anything when you measure him against the high rollers of the outside world, but in Hyde Valley, with his land holdings and money and his family line, plus his power to provide or deny jobs, he is numero uno.”
“Like you said, the godfather of Hyde Valley.”
“Right. So suppose I’m Harold Bly, and I find out my wife is having an affair with some outsider, and I want to—”
“Carry out vengeance?”
“Carry out vengeance. Of course I’d want to cover it up, make it look like something else caused it.”
“You’re not serious—”
She knew this was going to be tough to explain. “You should try being a cop in this valley. Some things go beyond reason.”
“You’re actually suggesting that someone cut up my brother?”
“Steve, I’m only saying that if that is what happened, the perpetrators would have had an automatic cover-up. The Hyde River people have an Oath, especially when it comes to the dragon, and if they had any notion the dragon was responsible, you can be sure they’d never say a thing about it; they’d deny the whole thing. People are afraid up there. They’re afraid of each other, and a lot of them are afraid of the dragon. And let me tell you something else: The myth isn’t fading with time. If anything, the dragon is bigger now, and more hungry, and people are more scared than ever. I don’t know why that’s happening, but I notice it every time I go up there. You got only a small taste of it in the tavern.”
Steve recalled it. “That friend of Doug’s said it was something they just don’t talk about, and he just about got killed for saying that much.”
“And there you are.” Then she added pointedly, “And Sheriff Collins knows all this. He knows the rules. So lately it’s gotten tough, and kind of weird. Sometimes—if we even hear about it, that is—something shady will happen, and we won’t be able to find any witnesses or evidence to build a case, and we’ll end up saying, ‘Well, the dragon must have done it,’ meaning the case is probably unsolvable and the dragon is being blamed for it. You heard Maggie and Levi. As far as they’re concerned, the dragon ate your brother. Forget human perpetrators.”
“But wait a minute. You have evidence. You have my brother’s body!”
Tracy brought her hands together with a clap. “Now we’re up to the present, and you can see why I’m out here blasting away at cans.” Her voice rose with excitement. “This is the first time an outsider has crossed somebody in that valley and gotten killed and we actually have a body left over! It’s the biggest lead we’ve ever had, and it is definitely worth pursuing!” Then she added with exasperation, “But I am not the sheriff of Clark County! I am not bound up in politics and keeping everybody happy and getting reelected.” With that, she drew her gun and indulged in one more shot, sending a can skittering across the gravel.
She smiled in satisfaction, then said, “So if you ask me, Maggie was two-timing her husband, her husband probably had her killed, and he had it staged so people would think it was the dragon. That will be the end of it. I can assure you, Maggie Bly’s body will never be found. She’s gone. And if anybody wants to know what happened to her, Harold Bly will tell you she left him and ran off. There are plenty of folks up there, though, who will positively believe the dragon ate her. Trust me. I grew up there.”
Steve’s mouth was dry. “And in Cliff’s case . . . that’s what it looked like.”
Tracy saw the tremor that passed through Steve’s body. Her voice was quiet as she said, “It’s pretty horrible but that is what it looked like, that someone left half a body to get the rumors started, to get people thinking about the dragon. Then, somehow, they did away with Maggie’s body altogether—there was no need to leave part of a body. Then the word gets around the town, the people are terrified, and now I’ll guarantee you, they are not going to talk to anyone. I could be wrong, but I think there’s a cloud of fear and superstition up there that some very ruthless people are hiding behind.”
“Harold Bly.”
“Well . . .” She shook her head. “What can we prove? All I know is, Harold’s a direct descendant of the original Hyde family, and somehow this dragon thing is connected with his family, and I think he could be using that fact to scare people, to let them think he has some special connection with the dragon. All around that town, Harold Bly’s the one to know, the one to please, and whatever you do, you don’t cross him and you don’t talk to outsiders.”
“So why does Levi talk about the dragon?”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “It’s his mission in life. He’s superstitious just like the others, but some years ago he got super-saved, if you know what I mean. Now the dragon’s a religious thing. He sees a message in it.”
“And apparently he’s not afraid.”
“Well, for one thing, everyone thinks he’s crazy, so they stay away from him. He survives because he has no credibility—and also because he could break every bone in your body if he had to.”
Steve smiled at that remark.
Tracy shrugged and sighed away her exasperation. “But anyway, here I am with my hunches and theories and not a whole lot I can do about them. You saw what happened to your brother. You saw how terrified Maggie was. This isn’t something a few underpaid, low-budget, backwoods cops want to mess with, not when it’s easier to just get along, let things slide. I’m sure Collins is hoping you’ll just go your way, content with the bear theory, content in knowing your sister-in-law is free of suspicion.” Then she added, “And that is true, you know: Evelyn is not a suspect.”
“She never should have been under suspicion,” Steve said vehemently.
Tracy didn’t want to rehash her reasons for questioning Evelyn. “Well, she’s off the list, and so you can walk away from this whole thing if you want to.”
They stood there in silence, just leaning on the car and looking at the bullet-riddled cans.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” Steve said finally.
“You can do it, Steve, and that’s what makes me envy you. Remember, you don’t have to live with these people. You don’t have to hold down a job as a cop in Hyde Valley where no one will cooperate with you if there’s a serious crime, you don’t have to try to sleep at night wondering who’s out there doing this sort of thing and how
they might feel about you. You can get out.”
“Somebody murdered my brother, and I think you’re telling me that person will go free.”
“Have you told Evelyn about all this?”
He paused, then said softly, “No.”
“Why not?” He didn’t have to answer before she said, “Let me guess: If you tell her Cliff was murdered she’ll want to know why, and she doesn’t know about the affair. Right?”
Steve nodded. “And I only want her to get better, to recover her senses. I don’t know what finding out about Cliff and Maggie would do to her.”
“I understand,” Tracy said softly. “I guess you have to decide whether it’s better for Evelyn to think her husband was killed by a bear or possibly murdered by a jealous husband.”
He couldn’t decide. Not yet.
“I guess all I’m saying is, you can walk away, Steve. You can put it all behind you. I envy that.”
She took the box of cartridges off the hood of the car. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve given you enough to think about. Don’t know what else you’ll do here without a bear to hunt, but you can let me know.” She opened the trunk and put the cartridges away. “But, Steve, one more thing.”
She waited until he looked her way, and she had his full attention. “I can’t tell you what to do, but just for the record, my duty is to the law and the people of this valley. I know you have some heavy issues to resolve, but please, don’t make trouble, and don’t break the law. If you break the law, I’ll have to do my job. Remember that.”
LEVI HAD the garage doors open to let in the sunlight. The phone company truck was about finished, but Levi was still waiting on new rear springs, so it sat patiently on the right side of the garage, its rear axle dropped out. Right now, the county’s backhoe needed the hydraulic pump looked at. The boom and bucket were sluggish, the operator had told him.
“Heh, sluggish for the county has to be real sluggish,” Levi told the backhoe, pulling his tool chest closer and searching through a drawer for the right wrench. “So, we’ll check your hose fittings and make sure they’re cinched up.”
He rolled under the machine on his garage creeper, seeking out the hydraulic pump. “You get those hydraulic lines sucking air, you get downright wimpy, am I right? Now hold still, this ain’t gonna hurt a bit—”
“Cobb!”
“Ah. Company,” Levi muttered to the hydraulic pump. He was expecting visitors today. They hadn’t announced they’d be coming, but he was expecting them anyway.
He rolled out from under the backhoe slowly, careful not to bang his head. There stood Vic Moore, the contractor, with three of his buddies. One was Phil Garrett, currently in Vic Moore’s employ and looking downright bizarre with a bandage covering most of his head. He’d nearly lost his ear in a barroom brawl, but Levi knew it wasn’t wise to mention it. The second was Andy Schuller, unemployed miner and regular fixture around the pool table at Charlie’s. The third was Carl Ingfeldt, a wiry little cuss who had an irritating way of hanging around like a black fly, just looking for morsels of information to take back to Harold Bly.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Levi said, getting to his feet.
Vic Moore stepped forward, his thumbs tucked in his pants and his fingers around his belt. Levi noticed that he smelled bad. “We hear you’ve been talking to the police.”
Levi nodded. “Yeah, Tracy Ellis, about my license tags.”
Vic looked at his three backup men, and they exchanged knowing sneers. Vic turned back to Levi. “You lying son of a—”
Levi appeared relaxed, leaning against the backhoe, but he’d drawn a hunting knife from a sheath on his hip and now held it casually, checking the edge with his thumb. “I guess you’re wondering about Maggie. Ain’t that right, Carl?”
Carl tried to look cool and undaunted, but he nodded.
“We want to know why you’re prying into Harold and Maggie’s personal business,” Vic said.
Levi looked at them quizzically. “If we’re talking about Harold’s business, why isn’t Harold here?”
“We’re his friends.”
“But not Maggie’s? You turned her away, Vic.”
Vic didn’t answer. He was staring at Levi’s knife.
“I’ve used it before,” Levi answered, seeing the question in Vic’s eyes. “But only ’cause I had to. He got a piece of me, but I got a bigger piece of him. Took his nose off.” Phil leaned forward. “I didn’t say ear.” Phil glowered at him. “Anyway, let’s clear the air, gentlemen, so we can all get back to work. Maggie needed a place to stay, and I put her up. Tracy Ellis came looking for her because of what happened to that photographer.”
Vic bristled at that. “And you talked to her!”
Levi looked puzzled. “She’s Tracy Ellis, Vic! She grew up here. She knows about all this stuff!”
“She’s a cop,” Vic countered. “She’s working for outside people. She’s working for the law.”
“So what did you tell her?” Carl demanded.
Levi shrugged. “Gave her my opinion. Told her I thought the dragon got him.”
That seemed to be the only word that offended these guys. Andy shoved his way toward the front. “Why you—”
Levi gestured with the knife as Vic held Andy back. “Now, come on, just take a long look at how it’ll go. You know Tracy and how she feels about my opinions. You know Collins, too, and where he stands. Soon as you bring in the dragon, he pulls out. And that’s what happened. I got a call from him this morning, and he wanted to be sure I got the word: They’ve decided a grizz got the photographer and Maggie’s just taken off and Harold’s in the right as always and I should just go about my business and forget about the whole thing. As for that professor, I understand he’s packing up and leaving, so that’s that. Sure, I took a little chance, but now the cops aren’t asking any more questions, the professor’s gone, and everything’s over, nice and smooth.”
The men looked at one another, as if deciding whether or not they agreed with Levi’s actions.
“As for the widow,” Levi continued in an even tone, “she’s out of this thing. Maybe she’ll learn what her husband was doing and maybe not, but at least she can go home and get on with her life.”
Vic asked, “So what if the cops come back?”
Levi couldn’t believe he’d heard such a question. “Vic, have they ever come back?”
Vic and his buddies visibly relaxed. Vic turned toward the door, then turned back as if needing to get in the last word. “Cobb, someday you’re gonna say too much. You watch yourself.”
“Nice talking to you,” said Levi.
“JUST ONCE, just once I’d like one straight answer to a question, I’d like—I’d like—” Steve caught himself ranting out loud and stopped. He was getting as bad as Levi. He threw down his notebook and slumped in the chair by the table in his motel room. Should he just pack up, leave, and drop the whole matter? If he did, the death of his brother, and its true cause, would haunt him forever. Should he stay and investigate further? Where? What? Who could he talk to? Who would talk to him? The police were no longer with him, and the local folks had been against him from the start.
And what about Evelyn? What could he tell her, and what point would there be in doing so? He couldn’t prove Cliff was killed by a bear, but he couldn’t prove otherwise, so why cast doubt on the bear theory and raise all the other questions that would only hurt her? If it wasn’t a bear, then Cliff was murdered. If Cliff was murdered, then there had to be a reason: the affair. But with Maggie gone, and actually, he didn’t know if she was dead or alive, there was no way to prove the affair had ever happened. So why tell Evelyn when so little could be established anyway?
And what about Evelyn’s memory? That might still return, and then—
The phone rang. This was either going to be the key to it all or more confusion, he thought.
He grabbed up the phone beside the bed. “Hello.”
“Steve? Dan Cramer.”
Steve sat on the bed. Dan Cramer was a biochemist at the university. At the sound of Dan’s voice Steve remembered: the saliva sample taken from Cliff’s body! In all the tangle of other information and events he’d forgotten about it. “Dan, hi. What’s up?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Dan had a hint of laughter in his voice as if he’d just been the victim of a practical joke. “FedEx just delivered your saliva sample, and I’ve run some tests on it.”
“Yeah?” Steve said, trying to hold back his impatience. Come on, Dan, just tell me.
“Well, first of all, we ran the electrophoresis, and it wasn’t bear saliva, and it wasn’t human. As a matter of fact, the bands we got ruled out any kind of mammal.”
“No mammalian indications at all?”
“No. The DNA rules that out.”
Great. More noninformation. “Well, is it saliva?”
“Oh, it’s saliva, all right, but you’re in the wrong part of the country to be sending in samples like this. Looking at the amino acids and the enzymes, I’d say you’ve got a reptile.”
Steve’s mind came to an abrupt halt as if hitting a wall. “What?”
“It’s a common pattern for large lizards. The closest match would be . . . oh, black tagu, savannah monitor, something along that line.” There was a protracted silence. “Steve?”
“Dan, this was my brother. I really hope this isn’t a joke—”
Dan was firm. “Steve, this is no joke. I’m giving it to you straight.”
“You’re sure? You didn’t get the samples mixed up or anything?”
“No, I gave this one priority.”
“Can you fax your report to me?”
“What’s the number?”
Steve realized as soon as he said it that he had no number. He didn’t even know where he might find a fax machine. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I doubt if they’ve ever seen a fax machine in this town.”
The Frank Peretti Collection: The Oath, the Visitation, and Monster Page 13
