“Hang on, Grace,” Katy whispered.
Louis could see a small greenish sac protruding from beneath Grace’s tail. He shut his eyes. A weird memory flashed to his brain, that day back in the police academy when they had breezed through the part in the textbook about delivering babies.
When he opened his eyes, Katy was carefully pulling out the sac. He watched, fascinated, as she wrapped the kitten in the blue shorts and broke the sac. She severed the cord with the knife and used an edge of the shorts to clean the fluid and tissue from the kitten’s mouth and nose.
“You need to tie the cord,” she said, nodding to the piece of fishing line.
“What?”
“Cut off a small piece of the line and tie it, close to the kitten’s belly.”
Louis knelt, sliced off a piece of line and carefully tied the umbilical cord. He sat back on his haunches, watching the kitten.
“It’s not breathing,” he said.
“I know,” Katy said. She began to rub the kitten briskly with the shorts. She rose suddenly, still cradling it. “There’s water somewhere in here. Where it is?”
“Over there,” Louis said, pointing.
Katy disappeared. Louis stayed crouched by the Grace, watching her closely. She was still out, but her lower abdomen was moving.
Suddenly, a second green blob appeared.
“Katy!”
“What?”
“There’s another one coming.”
“What? I only felt one!”
Louis could see the kitten’s head protruding now. But nothing else was happening.
“It’s stuck,” he yelled.
“You’ll have to pull it out.”
He yanked off his polo shirt and scooted closer to Grace. He wrapped the edge of the shirt over the kitten’s head and pulled downward gently but firmly.
Come on...
Slowly, the slimy little creature emerged. He grabbed the knife from the floor, carefully cut through the umbilical cord and tied it off.
Then he let out a breath, sat back on his haunches and looked down at the kitten cradled in his shirt. It was wiggling but its face was covered with tissue.
Gently, he rubbed the kitten’s nose and mouth like he had seen Katy do. At first the kitten didn’t respond then it opened its tiny mouth and let out a noise like a rusty hinge.
Yes. Breathe. That’s right. Breathe.
Another weak mew and the kitten settled in the folds of the shirt in Louis’s hands. He supposed he should set it down next to Grace but he wanted to hold it just a moment longer.
“Congratulations, dad.”
Louis looked up over his shoulder at Katy. Her face was slick with sweat and dirt. She looked exhausted but she was smiling.
“I’m glad you find this funny,” he said. He looked at the blood on her hands.
“Did the other one make it?” he asked.
She nodded.
Louis looked at Grace. The panther’s head was still down but her eyes were open now and her chest rose and fell in an even rhythm.
“Is Grace going to be okay?” Louis asked.
“Yes, she’ll be fine,” Katy said. She looked toward Keno, slumped near the door.
“What about Hachi?
“He’ll make it,” Louis said.
There was a sudden shuffling sound outside. Louis tensed and started to look for a spot to set his kitten down but then a bulky familiar frame filled the doorway.
Gary stood there, hands braced on the frame, wavering. His eyes went from Keno lying at his feet to Grace and finally back to Louis.
“What the fuck happened?” he asked.
Louis held up the kitten. “Congratulations,” he said. “You’re an uncle.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“What the fuck happened here?”
The man standing in front of Louis -- Hendry County sheriff Amos Zeedler -- was sweaty, sleepy and confused. It was dawn and he had just arrived at the shack in a muddy white SUV, trailed by two detectives in a county swamp buggy. One of the detectives stood in the open-air buggy holding his rifle and looking like an anxious Secret Service agent on a rooftop. The other was hovering around Gary’s SUV, making small talk.
The Hendry entourage had been led here by Gary who had reluctantly left late last night to summon help once it had been decided that four humans and a cage holding a panther would not fit in Gary’s truck. And Katy’s Jeep was too low on gas to travel far.
“I asked what the fuck happened?” Zeedler asked again, looking hard at Louis. “Who’s been kidnapped? Who’s been shot? Who shot him and who the hell are you?”
“Louis Kindcaid,” Louis said, producing the badge Mobley had given him. Zeedler’s dark eyes flicked to the badge and back to Louis’s face. He seemed surprised there was a cop on the scene.
Louis had asked Gary to tell the Hendry County sheriff that a Lee County officer was involved and that Mobley would need to be notified. Apparently Gary had forgotten that last part.
“You’re one of Mobley’s guys,” Zeedler muttered.
Louis ignored the slight. “Yes, sir. Could you tell me if you have notified Sheriff Mob --”
Zeedler’s eyes shot up to Louis, squinting against the rising sun. “Who got shot here?”
“An Indian named Hachi Keno.”
“Is Keno alive?”
“Yes, sir. He’s tied up inside.”
“Was he armed?” Zeedler asked.
“Yes, he had --”
“Fuck,” Zeedler muttered again, looking off toward the cypress trees. “An officer-involved shooting. Just what I need right now.”
“With all due respect, sir, I’m not your officer and most of the paperwork and investigation will fall to Lee County. Now, I would --”
Zeedler looked back at him. “Who did this Keno guy kidnap?”
Louis held Zeedler’s little black eyes for a moment. Louis was sure the sheriff wouldn’t notify Mobley until he knew exactly what had happened and how it would play out in the media.
Damn Gary.
He had done a piss-poor job at explaining things to Zeedler. And Louis knew why. Gary had hoped to give them enough information to get Hendry County out here, and then he planned to turn into a ghost, just like he had after the episode with the Fort Lauderdale robbers. But that wasn’t going to happen this time. The Hendry County deputy had not left the side of Gary’s SUV.
“The victim, officer,” Zeedler repeated. “Who did Keno kidnap?”
“Her name is Katy Letka,” Louis said. “She’s an officer with the Florida Wildlife Commission.”
“And that man Gary Tootillo outside -- how is he involved in all this?”
“Katy and I were working on a poaching case. When Katy disappeared yesterday morning, I suspected Hachi Keno had taken her and was keeping her at one of these old camps. Gary knew about the camps and we spent most yesterday searching. We found her and Keno last night.”
Zeedler blew out a breath and again wiped his brow. He was so sweaty his dark uniform looked as if were melting onto his body.
“Don’t fuck around with me, officer,” Zeedler said. “You’re a cop. Why not just arrest Keno last night and drive him and the victim back into town in Toot-whatever’s vehicle?”
Louis hadn’t been fucking with Zeedler but he would now.
“Because we couldn’t have brought Grace with us,” Louis said.
Zeedler yanked off his hat. “Who the fuck is Grace?”
“Follow me,” Louis said.
“Now wait a minute,” Zeedler said.
Louis walked toward the shack. “Follow me, sir.”
Zeedler hesitated then decided to follow Louis to the shack. When Louis pushed open the door and Zeedler stepped inside, his hand went immediately to cover his nose.
Louis had heard that sunshine was the best disinfectant but in this case, the light only elevated the place from disgusting to revolting. Feces. Bones. Maggots. Rust.
How Katy had stayed in here all night, Lou
is didn’t know. It had to be a powerful devotion to Grace and those kittens. Even now, she was still sitting on the floor near the cage. He could tell she was exhausted but her eyes were lit with exhilaration.
Keno was tied to a hook on the opposite side of the shack, awake but pale. Katy had taken off his shirt and cleaned his wound the best she could. Louis’s bullet had caught him in the fleshy part of his shoulder, exiting cleanly. But even a minor gun wound could easily become infected.
“Sheriff Zeedler,” Louis said. “That’s officer Katy Letka, on the floor.”
Katy raised a hand in a weary acknowledgement.
“That man is Hachi Keno,” Louis said, “and that’s Grace in the cage.”
Zeedler spun back to Louis. “Grace is a goddamn panther?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“You son of a bitch,” Zeedler said. “You sneak into my jurisdiction, you solicit civilian help in a search for a kidnapper and then you shoot an Indian -- all over a goddamn lost panther?”
“Poached panther,” Louis corrected. “Keno abducted Grace, which is what started all this.”
Zeedler just stood there, hand back at his mouth, his gaze circling the tiny shack. He was blanching a little and Louis hoped he would at least move outside if he puked up his coffee.
“Now will you call my sheriff and get him out here?” Louis asked.
Zeedler lowered his hand. His eyes grew even smaller, like shiny drops of oil. “Yeah, I’ll call your sheriff. And I’ll be surprised if you even have a job when he gets a load of all this crap.”
Louis suspected Zeedler was probably right, but he said nothing. Job or no job, he didn’t regret a moment.
Zeedler grabbed his radio and told his dispatcher to contact Sheriff Mobley. He added that he would be transporting a suspect to the hospital. Then he jammed the radio back in his belt and pointed to Keno.
“Untie that man,” Zeedler said. “I’m arresting him for kidnapping.”
“There was no kidnapping,” Katy said. “I went with him willingly.”
Louis glanced at Katy, not surprised she didn’t want Keno arrested. During the long night, Louis had wandered in and out of the hot fetid shack but Katy had stayed inside, watching Grace and the kittens but also talking to Keno. Even standing outside, Louis could hear the soft murmur of their voices. Keno would clam up every time Louis came back inside. Louis didn’t know exactly what Keno had told Katy but he had the feeling they had reached some understanding about Grace and some forgiveness about what Keno had done to Katy.
Zeedler stared at Katy for a moment then looked back to Keno, who was now paying attention to what was happening. He looked terrified.
“Then I’m taking him in for poaching an endangered animal,” Zeedler said.
A new voice came from behind them, deep and commanding. “I don’t think so.”
Everyone turned to the doorway. Moses Stanton stood there, arms crossed.
Like Zeedler had done, Moses took in the interior of the shack, his eyes resting a long time on Katy and Grace. He stepped inside and slowly took off his hat.
“Who the fuck are you?” Zeedler asked.
“Moses Stanton, executive assistant to the Seminole chief.”
“And who the hell called you?” Zeedler asked.
“Smoke signals,” Moses said, with a small smile.
“Very funny, Stanton,” Zeedler said.
“Let’s get to the point,” Moses said. “You have no reason to be here, sheriff.”
“The hell I don’t. We’re in my county,” Zeedler said. “And that panther over there is a federally protected animal. That means no one can hunt it. Not even Indians.”
“You’re wrong, sheriff,” Moses said. “May I remind you of a 1985 case right here in Hendry County. A Seminole man killed a panther and the state charged him with a felony for killing an endangered animal.”
“I remember that,” Zeedler said. “He got off because the court ruled old treaties said you could hunt anything you wanted on the reservation. But this panther is not on your land.”
“The lawyers said the treaties gave us the right to hunt anywhere, not just on our own land,” Moses said. “And it was argued that the Seminole had the right to kill the panther to use in a religious ritual.”
Louis glanced at Katy. She gave him a small shake of her head as if to warn him not to ask any questions.
“It doesn’t matter what the fucking lawyers said,” Zeedler said. “The case was dismissed.”
Moses nodded. “Do you want to spend the next two years fighting about this again?”
For a moment, Zeedler looked so angry he couldn’t draw a breath. But then the anger faded to simple frustration. He looked down at Keno and then at Grace in the cage.
He shook his head. “All right,” he said. “I’m not going to the mat over a fucking cat.” He looked at Louis. “Mobley can deal with this -- and you.”
Zeedler pushed by Moses out the door. Louis turned to watch him as he stalked back through the tall grass toward his swamp buggy.
“I will be taking Hachi with me,” Moses said.
“I can’t let you do that,” Louis said.
“Why not?”
“Because I shot him,” Louis said.
Moses nodded. “He probably deserved it,” he said.
“That’s not the point,” Louis said. He wiped his sweating forehead, his head clouded from exhaustion. “I’m a cop,” he said. “I’m looking at a shit storm because of this.”
Moses smiled slightly. Then he turned to Katy.
“Did Hachi hurt you?” he asked.
“He didn’t mean to,” Katy said.
“Did he hurt the panther?”
“He didn’t know how to help her. That’s why he brought me here.”
Moses went to Keno and knelt by his side. He carefully removed the cloth Katy had put on Keno’s bare shoulder and examined the wound. Then he tilted Keno forward and looked at his back.
“It doesn’t look bad,” he said, looking up at Louis. “The bullet went right through.”
Moses rose and began to search for something, running his hand along the wood planks near the door. Louis realized he was looking for the bullet.
“It’s to your left,” Louis said.
Moses pulled out a pocket knife.
“Leave it there,” Louis said.
Moses popped the bullet out of the wood.
“You just contaminated the crime scene,” Louis said.
Moses looked at him. “There was a crime committed here?”
“There was a shooting, damn it!”
Moses gave him a small smile then put the bullet in his mouth and swallowed it.
“What shooting?” Moses said.
Louis stared at him, stunned.
Zeedler was suddenly back. He thrust a radio at Louis’s chest. “Mobley wants to talk to you,” he said. “You’re on a secure channel.”
Moses slipped out of the shack. Louis stood in the doorway watching him.
“Kincaid! You there?”
Louis keyed the radio. “Yeah...yeah, I’m here.”
“Sheriff Zeedler tells me you’ve got a mess out there. You shot the suspect?”
Louis rubbed his face. “Yes, sir. He’s okay.”
The radio was silent and Louis knew Mobley was thinking that this was going to be shit storm for him, too.
“You stay put,” Mobley said finally. “I’ll call the reservation and talk to Chief Gilley. Maybe I can save your ass.”
Louis looked outside at Moses. He was just standing there, smoking a cigarette and looking up at the sky.
“I don’t think you’ll need to, sheriff,” Louis said. “I don’t think the tribe is interested in prosecuting me. I think they consider this a family thing.”
“You telling me they don’t care you shot one of them?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, sir.”
Mobley was quiet again.
“How’s the woman?”
he asked finally.
Katy was still sitting on the floor by the cage. Her head was down on her knees.
“Katy’s fine. But I need to get her out of here.”
“And the cat?”
Louis moved over to the cage. Grace seemed to be sleeping. One of the kittens had crawled away. It was the one Louis had delivered. He could tell because it had more spots than the other one. It raised its tiny head and looked up, its eyes as blue as the sky. He wanted to think the kitten was looking at him but he knew it was probably only attracted to the sunlight coming from the door.
“The cat is fine, sir,” Louis said. “So are her kittens.”
“Kittens?”
“Yes, sir.”
There was a long silence.
“They have blue eyes,” Louis said. “They’ll photograph well.”
There was no response and Louis thought Mobley had just clicked off, probably satisfied that he wasn’t going to have to wade through the jurisdictional swamp of the Seminole sovereign nation thing over one of his deputies. No, not even a real deputy. A private eye he had semi-hired during an alcoholic haze and sent him on a joke of a case so he could justify not giving him a real chance to wear a badge.
There was a huge spider web in the corner of the open door. Louis stared at it, watching the yellow and black spider move slowly toward a squirming exhausted fly.
A burst of radio from the radio brought him back.
“You still there, Kincaid?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
“Well done, deputy Kincaid,” Mobley said. “Well done.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It was too hot to eat. It was too hot to sleep. It was too hot to even move.
Louis lay still on his bed amid the damp tangled sheets, staring up at the ceiling fan. It did almost nothing to cool the cottage down but it was all he had now. Yesterday the air conditioner had finally died and his weasel landlord Pierre said it would be at least three days before he could get a new unit installed.
Louis looked down at the foot of the bed. Issy was sprawled on her side, all four legs extended, unmoving. He rose on one elbow to watch her. It took a minute but he finally saw the gentle rise and fall of her thin chest.
It was almost too hot to even breathe.
He rose, pulled on a pair of shorts and went out into the living room, glancing at the stove clock. Almost five. He had napped for two hours.
Claw Back (Louis Kincaid) Page 10
