by Rosa Jordan
The first words out of his mouth were, “Oh man! Something smells good!”
Wendy set the cake aside to cool, then took out a huge amount of ground beef for the cats’ supper from the refrigerator. She dumped it into a big metal bowl and added vitamins and bone meal. Plunging her hands in, she began to mix it. “This is what you smell,” she teased. “Raw hamburger icing, to go on your birthday cake.”
“Great!” Danny laughed. “I can share it with the cats.”
Just then the phone rang. Wendy pointed her chin toward the wall phone and said, “Answer that, will you? Tell whoever it is I’ll call back.”
“Hello?” Danny said. And then, “What blonde?” Danny listened for a second longer, then said, “Yes, but she can’t come to the phone right now. Who’s calling, please?”
Wendy glanced over at the boy. His mouth opened as if he wanted to speak, but couldn’t. His face turned deathly pale. But his eyes, as he turned to look at Wendy, were what startled her. They were filled with terror.
“What is it, Danny?” Forgetting the raw hamburger all over her hands, she crossed the room in three steps and snatched the receiver from him. The only thing she heard was a click, and the line went dead.
“Danny? Who was it?”
“A man,” Danny whispered, flattening his back against the wall as if he needed it to hold himself up. “He wanted … you.”
“He asked for me?”
Danny nodded.
“When you said I couldn’t come to the phone, what did he say? Did he give his name?”
“He said …” Danny’s voice fell to a terrified whisper, “… he’s going to get you.”
Wendy hit the speed dial button for the police station. When the dispatcher came on the line, Wendy said, “Kyle, please. Tell him it’s urgent.”
Kyle immediately came on the line, his voice cool, but worried. “Wendy? What’s up?”
“I just got a threatening phone call. I didn’t take it; Danny did. You’d better speak to him.” Wendy handed the receiver to Danny.
In a shaky voice, Danny told Kyle what he had told Wendy. Then Kyle must have asked him to say the exact words, because Danny hesitated and then said, slowly and precisely, “He said, ‘Is Blondie there?’ I asked, ‘What blonde?’ and he said, ‘Wendy Collins. The cop’s wife.’ I said she couldn’t come to the phone right now and asked who was calling. He said, ‘She knows who I am. But I know who she is, too. And I’m gonna get to her first. You tell her she opens her mouth, she’s d-dead meat.’”
There was a minute of silence, then Danny handed the phone back to Wendy.
“Lock the doors,” Kyle told Wendy. “Keep an eye on the driveway, and if anybody you don’t know pulls in, call the station.”
“Aren’t you coming home?” Wendy asked.
“No,” Kyle said. “I’ve got things to do that have to be done here at the office. But I’ll ask the chief to send some extra patrols out that way.”
Kyle hung up. For a minute Wendy stood there, staring at the telephone receiver, which was smeared with raw hamburger. Then she put the receiver on the hook, and went back to the tub of raw meat to finish mixing the cats’ supper.
“Come on, Danny,” she said quietly. “We’re going to feed the cats a little early today. Then we’ll come inside and have lunch.” She tried to smile. “And some birthday cake.”
Danny did not smile back.
The frightened look in his eyes made Wendy’s heart ache, but what could she do? She was also afraid. It probably showed in her eyes, too.
25
FREE, AND NOT
Wendy was upset that Kyle hadn’t come straight home. He must have known how scared she was, but as usual he had put his work ahead of her feelings. Or at least that’s how it felt to her. But Danny was there. Once they were out in the field, going from one enclosure to the other to tend the animals, Wendy began to calm down.
The caracal, Kenya, and the serval, Zari, had never been kept in the house and were quite shy, but there was nothing shy about BB. The minute food was put in his enclosure, he pounced on it and started making what Danny called his “buzz saw” growl, as if he were the biggest lion in the world and was ripping into a wildebeest he had just brought down himself.
Lucky, who as a tiny kitten had been even more aggressive than BB, had grown gentler as she got older. She was especially affectionate with Danny, but now that the she was old enough to eat regular food and live outdoors in her own enclosure, Wendy didn’t let Danny play with her. “Bad enough she thinks people are her parents,” Wendy said. “We don’t want her to think you’re her boyfriend, too. When little Lucky is ready, we want her to climb up on the roof of her den and yowl for Buzzsaw Bob to come be her mate.”
“Would you put them together and let them have kittens?” Danny asked excitedly.
“It would be nice if they could live together, but I’ll have the vet give BB a vasectomy first.” At Danny’s puzzled expression, Wendy explained, “That’s like spaying. It prevents a male from making the female pregnant. Only with a vasectomy, he still thinks he can breed a female, and when he tries, the female thinks she has been bred, so they’re both happy.”
“Why wouldn’t you want them to have kittens?” Danny asked, disappointed.
“Bobcats are not an endangered species, so there’s no reason to breed them in captivity. There are plenty in the wild and too many in captivity. Owners usually end up dumping the ones in captivity because most bobcats don’t make good pets. Besides, this is a sanctuary for unwanted animals. Not a breeding facility.”
“Kittens are nice,” Danny said wistfully.
“They are,” Wendy agreed. “But if I was going to breed anything, it would either be some species that was in danger of going extinct in the wild, or a wild-cat look-alike.”
“What’s a wild-cat look-alike?” Danny questioned.
“It’s not a real wild cat. It might have a teeny bit of wild-cat blood, but basically it’s a domestic bred to have the markings of a wild cat. Toygers, for example, are pussycats striped like tigers. Savannas have serval-type markings and big ears. Bengal breeders try for kittens that have spots like a leopard cat. They’re good for folks who want an exotic-looking pet to show off. And way easier to live with than a wild cat.”
Danny looked through the wire fence at BB, with both paws and half his face buried in the hamburger mixture, growling up a storm. “I guess most people would rather have a cat they can feed in the kitchen without having it morph into a tiger.”
“Speaking of wannabe tigers,” Wendy said, as they walked toward the enclosure with the junkyard bobcat. “This one’s about ready to be released.”
“Her ribs aren’t showing anymore,” Danny observed.
Wendy gazed at the bobcat for a moment. “Let’s release her today!”
Danny stared at her in surprise. “Today? What about —?”
“Forget that!” Wendy said fiercely. “I’ll go get the pet carrier, and if we can get her into it, we’ll drive to Ozark National Forest and let her go right now!”
“Why not in the state park where we let the raccoons go?” Danny asked.
“It’s too small,” Wendy explained. “Ozark National Forest is much bigger, and wilder. Bobcats need a lot of wild area to roam. The Ozark will be perfect.”
Wendy put a large portion of meat inside the pet carrier, which had been modified into a trap, and set it inside the enclosure. Then she and Danny backed off some distance, and waited. The junkyard bobcat was still scared of people, but after ten minutes she crept into the pet carrier. Wendy swiftly pulled the cord, and snap! Down went the door and the bobcat was shut up inside.
“She’s terrified being trapped again,” Wendy said. “And that’s good. We want her to remember that easy meat that she didn’t hunt herself can be
bait, so she’ll steer clear of traps in the future.”
They waited until she had eaten the meat. Then Danny put the trapped bobcat in the RAV while Wendy went inside to phone Kyle. He was not at the station, so she left a message that she and Danny were going to Ozark National Forest to release the junkyard bobcat. Since Kyle had told her to stay inside, she figured he’d go ballistic when he heard she had gone off on a two-hour drive, but she didn’t care. She was still angry with him for not coming home when she told him about the threatening call.
But her real anger was directed toward whoever placed that phone call, for making her feel like the only safe place was locked inside the house. She was just like the animals in her sanctuary, animals who ought to be free to come and go but couldn’t because some human might hurt them! Their enclosures were as nice as she could make them, and her house was nice, too, but having to stay inside all the time was not the same as moving about freely, and it was not fair.
With Danny next to her and the junkyard bobcat in the back, Wendy zoomed off to Ozark National Forest. Danny was quiet, but Wendy noticed that, just as she kept checking her rear-view mirror, he kept turning around to look behind them. At one point, when both of them spied a car coming up on them fast from behind, Danny said quietly, “You could pull into that gas station up ahead.”
Wendy did. The car zoomed on by.
“I do that sometimes,” Danny said.
Wendy glanced over at him. “What?”
“When I think some boys following me who might want to jump me, I go in a store or the library or somewhere, where there’s other people around.”
Wendy thought about how Danny probably wasn’t accepted by the other boys because they were into hunting and he wasn’t. It would probably be just as hard for a boy who was into classical music or ballet or stargazing. If it wasn’t what the other kids were into, you ended up as a kind of outcast.
“You spend a lot of time by yourself, don’t you?”
“I guess.” He was silent a minute, then added, “So do you.”
It was true. Both of them were loners, mainly because their interest in caring for injured wildlife wasn’t one that many people shared. And what could a lone boy could do to avoid the bullies? He was okay when he was out at Wildtrax, but not when he was wandering around town collecting cans.
“Wouldn’t you be safer if you stayed home more?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“I guess. The trouble with that …” Her voice trailed off.
“It’d be like living in a cage,” Danny finished.
“Yes.”
Wendy pulled back onto the highway. They rode in silence the rest of the way. They didn’t stop at the edge of the national park, but followed a dirt road through a forest of big old oak trees with some cedars and pines mixed in. When they were some distance from the main highway, Wendy parked, and they walked away from the road, deeper into the forest.
They came to a small stream that flowed around a rocky outcropping. Wendy stopped. “How about here?”
“Maybe she can find a cave up in those rocks,” Danny suggested.
Wendy nodded. “Bobcats like craggy areas up high where they can hide and keep an eye on what’s going on below.”
Danny peeked into the carrier. “She’s so scared.”
“She’s going to stay scared until she gets to know the area and figures out how to protect herself.”
“But nothing will hurt her here, will it? I mean, hunting’s not allowed, right?”
“Hunting’s not allowed, but there are other bobcats. If another one has claimed this territory, it might not like a stranger moving in. On the other hand,” Wendy smiled at Danny, “maybe this territory belongs to a male bobcat, and he’s just waiting for the right girl to come along.”
Wendy barely had the door on the pet carrier open before the bobcat shot out. Moving so fast it was like one long grey blur, it disappeared into the forest. Wendy felt Danny suck in his breath, and then slowly let it out. Neither of them said a word.
Not until they were back in the car and headed home did Danny speak, his voice full of wonder. “Seeing her go free, that was something.”
Wendy nodded. But as she turned out onto the main highway, she had to blink back tears. What made her want to cry was that she didn’t feel like she’d ever have that kind of freedom again herself. In theory, she could go wherever she pleased, but how could anybody feel truly free when they knew they were being hunted by someone who wanted to hurt them?
26
DETECTIVE WORK
The sun was setting when they arrived back at Wildtrax. As soon as they got inside, Wendy called Kyle to let him know they had got home safely. He did not scold her for having gone to the Ozark forest, simply saying, “Glad you made it back okay. Be sure all the doors and windows are locked before you go to bed.”
“I will,” Wendy promised.
She and Danny had dinner, including birthday cake, then watched a National Geographic wildlife special on TV. When it was over, Danny stretched and yawned. “That was a good show. But the real one, when we let the bobcat go — it was better.”
“Yes,” Wendy said. “Returning one to the wild is always a thrill.”
They both went to bed early, but Wendy couldn’t sleep. She lay awake, waiting for Kyle to come home. And when he finally did, he didn’t come upstairs right away. After awhile she went down to see what was keeping him. He was sitting on the sofa, holding a 7-Up and staring at his own sock feet, which were propped on the hassock.
“What are you thinking about so hard? Work?” she asked.
“Sort of.” Kyle squeezed the can, which appeared to be empty, because it crushed easily. “I did some detective work. That’s why I didn’t come home right away. I needed to be in the office to check some law enforcement data banks.”
Wendy knew Kyle had never wanted to do ordinary police work. His main interest was detective work. But he was still fairly new on the force, and it took time to get promoted to detective. If he was investigating something, it was on his own.
“You were looking for a lead about that phone call?” she guessed.
“Yeah. And I think I found one. Remember those ex-cons I told you about who got picked up in Florida? The ones who tried to buy a boat with money that contained some bills that were traced to the bank robbery here?”
“I remember,” Wendy said. “But what reason would they have to threaten me now? It’s been over three years!” Kyle didn’t answer, so Wendy added, “Besides, didn’t FBI have them in jail?”
“They’re not in jail now. There wasn’t enough evidence to hold them.”
“They let them go?” Wendy asked incredulously.
Kyle grimaced. “Worse that than, I’m afraid. I phoned today and asked for more details. Seems that when the investigators couldn’t get a confession out of the guys, one had the bright idea of telling them that the teller at the Arkansas bank they robbed could identify them, and would, in a line-up. They had the guys separated, of course, and told each one that, hoping that if they thought they were about to be identified, one would rat out the other.”
“That’s crazy!” Wendy yelped. “I never —!”
“Of course it was crazy. Besides which, it didn’t work. Neither man admitted to anything and in the end the Feds had to let them go.”
Wendy slumped forward, head in her hands. She knew animals were most dangerous when they were frightened. It was probably the same with people — especially people who were dangerous to start with!
“I can see why they’d want to shut me up if they think I might provide info that would get them sent back to prison, but, my goodness, Kyle. All my contact information has changed since we got married, and our phone number here on the farm has always been unlisted.”
“Still, th
ere are ways,” Kyle sighed. He tossed the pop can across the room where it made a direct hit into a wastepaper basket. “It looks like they didn’t have time to spend the money they stole here before they got locked up in Florida. So as soon as they were released, they got the money from wherever they’d stashed it and went on a spending spree. Which got them picked up by the Feds, and you got dragged into it. Not by name, but enough that they thought they knew who the cops were talking about.”
“We have to change our phone number!” Wendy cried.
“Already did,” Kyle said. “And believe me I had to pull a lot of strings to do that on a Saturday. It’s easier to get action from the FBI than from the phone company on a weekend.”
“I’ll bet,” Wendy said. Then, noticing a box on the floor, she asked, “What’s in the package?”
“A new phone. The kind that shows who is calling — or at least what number they’re calling from. I’ll install it in the morning.”
Wendy went to the wastebasket to retrieve the crushed can. “Danny saves these,” she reminded him. She sat down next to Kyle on the couch, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’ve already told you you’re a good police officer, right?”
Kyle put his arm around her. “I think you mentioned it once.”
“Looks like you’re getting to be a pretty good detective, too.”
“Well,” he yawned. “If I break this case, at least I’ll have something besides bottle-feeding baby animals to put on my resume next time there’s an opening for detective.”
27
RETURN TO RED RIVER
When Wendy and Danny came in from feeding and cleaning animal enclosures the next morning, they found Kyle sitting on the living-room floor, programming the new telephone.
“From now on,” he told Wendy, “don’t answer the phone unless you can see on the display that it’s somebody you know. If you don’t recognize the name, let the machine pick it up, so we’ll have a record of the call.”
“Great!” Wendy said. “But you can handle incoming calls today, because I’m taking Danny to Red River Ranch.”
