by Ozzie Cheek
Ten minutes later, in the glow of bright outside lights, Jackson and Katy loaded two gun cases into Jackson’s Grand Cherokee. One rifle Katy identified as a .375. “It’s the one I use in Africa unless I’m culling elephants,” she explained. “My Weatherby has a few custom modifications, but even without them, it’s the single best big-game rifle for a safari.”
“So I’ve heard,” Jackson said, recalling Dell’s lecture. The second gun case was hard and shaped differently, like a bow-hunting case or a case for some musical instrument. “And this one?”
“A Remington model three-eighty-nine pneumatic dart gun. And a variety of darts with gel collars.”
“A dart gun?”
“Killing an animal isn’t the only way to stop it.” Katy didn’t say anything about the animal rescue group coming to Idaho. Stan had asked her not to mention it.
They continued north on Interstate 15 to Idaho Falls, picked up U.S. Highway 20 through Rexburg and Saint Anthony, and then turned east on ID47. Some two and a half hours after visiting Ollie Hamm, they reached Buckhorn in the middle of the night. Jackson’s first stop was the Sportsman Motel. They found three black, unmarked Chevy Suburbans, each a few years old, parked in a row. Jessup and his hunters had arrived. Jackson rang the night buzzer for a long time before the sleepy clerk responded.
After Jackson helped Katy unload her gear and made plans to return for her in a few hours, he drove out to the western edge of town and turned into the Elk’s Club. He didn’t belong to the Elk’s, although Iris did, but he had been there for meals and other events. A National Guard Black Hawk helicopter sat on the grassy playground. In the parking lot there was a trailer with two ATVs. Everything was just like Jessup had said. Jessup intrigued him. For an African-American man to be a major in the Idaho State Police, Jackson knew he either had to be so good that he would be a colonel if he were white or so incompetent that he was a safe token to equality. He suspected that Jessup was very good.
A state trooper car was parked alongside the building. Unlike the SWAT team’s plain Suburbans, the black cruiser had a white diagonal band across the front doors with the words: Idaho State Police. The trooper guarding the equipment was asleep behind the wheel. Jackson left him alone and drove home to doze for a couple of hours.
The State Police team sent to Buckhorn to shoot the big cats consisted of two detectives and six troopers under the command of Major Jessup. They wore camouflage on Monday morning, giving them the look and feel of a military instead of a police operation and distinguishing them from everyone else gathered at the Elk’s Club. Club members had cooked breakfast, and the men were eating as dawn broke. Major Jessup sat with Stilts Venable from Fish and Game and two troopers in regular dark blue ISP uniforms. Jessup had little appetite for his eggs, even before the phone call.
“Listen up!” Jessup yelled after dumping his Blackberry on the tabletop with a bang. He stood and addressed his men. “Any of you men here buddies with trooper Ronald Greathouse?” He waited. “Anybody?”
His question was met with silence until trooper Bill Roberts said, “Not exactly buddies, Major, but I know him. We worked a Boise State football game last year.”
“Well, trooper Greathouse is MIA,” Jessup said. “He was scheduled for guard duty at two A.M. last night and didn’t show.” Jessup sent one of the uniformed troopers at his table to Ronnie’s house and then checked his watch. “Soon as Chief Hobbs and his lion expert get here, we’ll be runnin’ and gunnin’, so you men chow down.”
Iris stepped out of the shower and onto the scales. Two extra pounds. Damn! Why is it that a single pound above starvation on a woman with a drop of Mexican blood always sticks to her ass, tummy, or hips, she thought? But even the unwanted weight didn’t stop Iris from feeling happy as she dried her body with a plush Turkish towel. Last night had been a success. By the end of the meal, Dell, who had arrived in a grim mood, had forgotten about his cemetery visit. With Jesse and Shane in Rexburg at the movies, the evening flowed naturally from dining room to bedroom. Her body still tingled when she thought about it.
Iris was brushing her teeth when the idea that had flittered just out of reach yesterday suddenly landed. It was so obvious, like hiding something in plain sight. She spit out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. They were going about it all wrong. Faced with two problems, you use one to solve the other. Her plan was bold and brilliant.
She hurriedly dressed and grabbed her car keys and rushed out. Instead of going to the Elk’s Club to greet the State Police hunters, she drove to Dell’s house.
Major Jessup did a poor job of hiding his surprise when Jackson introduced Katy. Asked to ‘look authentic’ for a couple of television interviews, she had been carting around the boots, cargo pants, Solumbra shirt, and cotton fishing vest she often wore on safari. She never imagined that she would use her gear on an actual hunt. Since September mornings can be chilly in Buckhorn, Katy also wore a nylon windbreaker.
After a few minutes of conversation designed to both charm and grill Katy, Jessup gathered his men in a semi-circle and introduced Jackson who then introduced Katy.
At first Katy simply looked at the hunters. “I was nineteen when I shot my first lion,” she said a moment later, “a man-eater that’d killed thirty-two people.” She watched as the men’s eyes crawled off her body and up to her face. “My uncle had a game farm in Botswana and was a well-known hunter and guide. I was on Christmas break from the university when he was asked to kill the lion. Now some people say only an old or injured lion will attack human beings. Don’t believe it. This lion was young and healthy when he developed a taste for human flesh.
“Uncle Bucky was just starting to have problems with his eyes about then, so I talked him into letting me go along on the hunt. My job was to provide fresh meat for the camp. My uncle was particularly fond of eland.”
Katy paused and sipped some bottled water. “A week into the hunt Uncle Bucky broke his ankle. And it’s only because of his accident that I was following Ezekiel, our incredible, ageless tracker, through seven-foot-tall yellow thatching grass when the man-eater attacked us.
“If a lion charges you, don’t try for a head shot. Above the eyes a lion is all muscle. A central shoulder shot is the safest and easiest. Aim for the middle part of the chest region, and you have a chance of hitting lungs, heart, major veins and arteries, important bones.” Katy paused again and looked from man to man. “The average shot will be long, but some may be as close as fifty feet. A lion can cover that distance in a second. I had my uncle’s three-seventy-five Ruger loaded with three-hundred-grain soft-points. It still took two shots to drop the lion. Even then I put a third bullet in him. And I’m talking about a single lion. Lions mostly hunt in prides. Had there been more than one lion, I wouldn’t be here now.”
She watched the hunters shift in their chairs. She had them listening and alert, the way she wanted. “Now, let’s talk about tigers,” she said. “Our solo assassins.”
“It was something you said in the café on Saturday,” Iris told Dell. They were in his kitchen where Iris was making coffee while Dell fixed toast. “You said you could go on safari right here. So I started thinking, if you’d go on a lion safari in Idaho, how many others would too?”
“A hell of lot of people.”
“Then why should we pay anyone to kill these cats if we can get people to pay us? The town can make money, and we get rid of the animal problem too. What we should do is hold the first lion safari in America.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. Hell, it’s a great idea, Iris,” Dell said. “But we’ll have to make it affordable, you know that. We can’t charge safari prices.”
“We’ll do better than that. We’ll offer prizes. Each hunter buys a license to shoot lions and tigers and maybe goes home with a big check as well as a trophy.”
“Then the only thing I see standing in our way is politics. The State Police hunters are already here.”
Iris opened the refrigerato
r door and looked inside. “That’s where you come in. Crap. You’re out of fat-free half-and-half.” She shut the door, saying, “You need to call your brother, our acting-governor, right now.”
When Katy finished answering their questions, the men applauded loudly. Major Jessup then reviewed the plan, and afterward the hunters gathered their equipment. They were more familiar with a Colt M4 or the Blaser .308 and R93 sniper rifles than they were a Weatherby Mark 5, Winchester .458, or a .375. None of them even had seen a Churchill Double 470. Some of the sharpshooters had no special training. Others were trained to handle raids and hostage rescue. None of them were trained for lion hunting. Even so, they were confident they would find and kill the big cats, despite the scare that Katy had thrown at them.
Troopers Dwight and Bill Roberts were especially eager to get started. The twins had served together in Iraq and trained as snipers. Afterward, they both joined the State Police. The Roberts twins were the two shooters that would hunt from the helicopter using borrowed big-game rifles.
Two other hunters would travel by ATVs, while the rest of them – two troopers and two detectives and Major Jessup – would follow Katy on foot. The starting point of the hunt for everyone would be the Placett’s farm unless the helicopter spotted a tiger or a lion pride elsewhere.
The helicopter took off and the noise nearly kept Major Jessup from hearing his phone. He covered one ear with his hand when he answered it and sought the shelter of the Elk’s Club. The other hunters got ready to pull out.
Jackson was showing Katy how to use the police radio he had given her when they saw the helicopter turn around. They were watching it land when Major Jessup returned.
“What’s going on?” Jackson shouted to him as soon as Jessup was close enough to hear.
“New orders. We’re to pack up and leave town.”
“Leave?” Jackson said in disbelief. “Whose orders?”
Jessup didn’t answer until he was standing three feet away. “Colonel Rudolph, my superior. And his orders came from Lieutenant Governor Dan Tapper. The acting-governor.”
Katy walked up and joined them. “What’s going on?”
“That answer’s above my pay grade, Miss Osborne,” Major Jessup said. He looked back at Jackson. “I’m told your town mayor can explain everything.”
Fourteen
Jackson found Iris and Dell in the Split-Rail Café and headed toward them. Katy hurried to keep up.
“I knew it wouldn’t take you long,” Iris told Jackson a second later, while her eyes fixed on Katy. “And you must be the lion hunter I heard about,” Iris said to her.
Jackson introduced everyone, providing names and roles. No mention was made of Iris being his ex-wife. “Now that we’ve all made nice,” Jackson said, “one of you mind telling me what just happened with the State Police?”
“We don’t need them here,” Iris said.
“We don’t?” Jackson said. “Last I heard we have twenty-two big cats running around killing people.”
“And we’ll get rid of the lions and make money for the town too,” Iris said. “We’re going to have a public hunt.”
Katy’s mouth opened in amazement, and Jackson muttered, “Are you out of your mind?”
“Coffee?” Suzy Beans asked. Nobody had paid attention to the waitress standing beside the booth. “And menus?”
Jackson and Katy didn’t want coffee or food.
“I know who you are,” Dell said to Katy as Suzy shrugged and indifferently sauntered off. “I heard about you when I was on safari. Read your books too. Tell Jackson how much it costs for an African safari.”
“It all depends on the length and the services.”
“My brother and me, we spent over twenty-five grand for ten days in Kenya and a short stay in South Africa.”
“Well, it’s expensive to run a good safari.”
Iris sipped her latte and then said, “A thousand dollars. That’s what we’ll charge each hunter for a license. And they can get it back and a lot more money to boot. We’ll offer prizes for the biggest cat killed.”
“You won’t get ten people,” Jackson argued.
“Oh we will, and not just from around here either,” Dell said. “California, Texas, New York. People will flock here from all over. A once in a lifetime adventure and you won’t need a passport or twenty grand to have it.”
“We’ll be on the national news by noontime today,” Iris said. “It’ll put Buckhorn, Idaho on the map.”
“But maybe not for the reasons you want,” Katy said. She turned to look at Jackson. “Can they do this?”
Iris laughed. “We already did it.”
“So when is this hunt going to happen?” Jackson asked.
“As soon as my brother gets here,” Dell replied. He then said to Katy, “Dan’s the lieutenant governor.”
“The acting-governor,” Iris added with emphasis.
Jackson looked skeptical. “Dan agreed to this?”
“Hell yes. He’s flying in tomorrow to kick it off,” Dell said. “And I bet we have two, three hundred hunters by then, with another three hundred or more on the way.”
“Every one of them buying a license and paying for food and drinks and motel rooms and gas,” Iris said.
“And caskets,” Katy said. “Don’t forget about caskets. You’ll sell some of them too.”
A short time later Jackson eased the Grand Cherokee into the motel parking lot and stopped outside Katy’s door. He left the engine running but shifted into park.
“You know what’s going to happen here, don’t you?” Katy asked.
“Nothing good. I’m pretty sure of that.”
“These lions and tigers, they’re not going to call a time out until the town’s ready,” Katy said. “Big cats eat ten to twenty pounds of meat a day just to survive. That means they have to kill something and keep on killing. Today, tomorrow. Animals or people, whatever they can.”
“I can talk to Iris again, but …” Jackson shook his head. “She’s blinded by the upside and can’t see the down.”
Katy thought about her own money problems. How far would she go to save Skorokoro? Pretty damn far! “You and the mayor don’t appear to see eye-to-eye about much.”
Jackson shut off the engine. “She’s my ex-wife.”
Katy bobbed her head. “I didn’t catch that part.”
“We have a daughter, Jesse, a fifteen year old.”
“The girl the tiger chased.”
“My guess is it was one of the ligers chasing her.” Jackson then told Katy the story of Jesse’s escape.
When he finished, Katy said, “I hope I can meet her.”
“Me too. But after what just happened this morning, I figured you’d be on the first plane out of here.”
“But then you don’t know me yet, Chief Hobbs.” She opened the door and slid out. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“To do what?”
“To come pick me up.”
Jackson said, “And where exactly are we going?”
“To Safari Land. To go liger hunting.”
Jackson barely had settled behind his desk at the police station when Sadie announced that Major Jessup wanted to see him. Jackson followed her to the bullpen and greeted the state cop and asked him if he wanted coffee.
“I’m a tea drinker myself,” Jessup said.
“So is Sadie.” Jackson nodded toward her. “She’s very picky.” Jackson led them to the breakroom where he poured coffee while Major Jessup made a cup of Assam tea heavy with cream and sugar. “So what can I do for you?”
“Trooper Ronnie Greathouse is missing.” Jessup explained about Ronnie’s schedule and his failure to show. “Nobody’s seen him all day.” Jessup sipped his tea. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to have two of my men look for him. The Roberts twins. You met them earlier today.”
The police department should run a missing-person search in town. Jackson knew it, and the ISP major knew it too, but with everything else going
on, Jackson was not going to get territorial. “Two of the hunters, right?”
“Uh-huh. And that’s really why they volunteered. I know they’ll find a way to get out in the woods today.”
A moment later they headed to Jackson’s office, mugs in hand. “Don’t let the mayor know they’re hunting,” Jackson said, “or she’ll want them to buy a safari license.”
Jessup sneered. “A public hunt is crazy and dangerous. Whoever thought this up –”
“Will regret it. I know it and you know it, and they’ll learn soon enough,” Jackson told Major Jessup. “Tell your troopers to let me know if they need our help.”
Jessup nodded and sat in a chair in front of Jackson’s desk while Jackson eased into the gray Aeron chair behind it. “You know trooper Greathouse very well?” Jessup asked.
“Ronnie? Not all that well. One of my officers hangs out with him. Tucker Thule. You’re welcome to talk to him, but we’ll have to call him in. It’s his uncle that was killed on Saturday. I gave Tucker some time off.”
“If my troopers don’t find Greathouse,” Jessup said, “I’ll turn it over to a detective in Meridian. He can talk to your officer later if he needs to.” Meridian, Idaho’s third largest city, with a population nearing 75,000, was the location of the Idaho State Police headquarters and training facility. “This is damn good tea,” Jessup added.
After Katy talked to Janet Cook, who claimed the public lion hunt would provide her with a can’t-miss best-seller, Katy turned on the motel television and watched the news. She was amazed at how quickly the story of the escaped cats and proposed safari was spreading. It was the top story on CNN, Fox, MSNBC, and most other news channels.
She had just switched off the television when Stan Ely phoned. Stan also had heard about the public lion hunt and spent the first few minutes railing against the plan. For that matter, he had not been thrilled when Katy first had told him she was going to Idaho to hunt lions, but he still had helped her connect with the rotund gun dealer.
