by Kathi Daley
“I doubt we’ll ever know unless he volunteers the information when we catch him,” Houston said. “Based on what I’ve learned about him, he doesn’t seem like the sort to want to talk about his feelings.”
“The room where Jennifer was kept—was it located in the underground passage beneath the cabin?”
“Yes. My men and I looked after we diffused the bomb. There’s a small room with a door that locks from the outside about halfway along the passage. Really more like a closet.”
“If the passage and the room were there already when Ragland lived there with his father, it makes me think he might have been locked in that room himself.”
Houston frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that, but it does seem like a possibility. It would also explain why Ragland kept his victims in cold, dark places before he killed them.”
I know I shouldn’t feel compassion for a killer, but somehow, I did. The poor kid; no wonder he’d turned out the way he had. If Jennifer hadn’t regained consciousness until after she was locked in the dark room, that explained why she didn’t know where she was being held, though I was surprised she hadn’t recognized the cabin when Ragland brought her out of the room to go to the pond. Of course, he may have taken her through the passage and out the back way, which most likely opened somewhere in the forest.
“Did Jennifer say what was going on at the pond?” I asked as we pulled into the parking lot of the pet store.
“He forced her under the water several times while he shouted at her, but she said the words didn’t make sense. She thought he was planning to drown her, but then he grabbed her by the hair and told her to walk back the way they’d come. When they got back to the cabin, he pulled out a knife. She was sure he planned to end her life with it. If we’d arrived even a minute later, she probably would be dead.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we showed up when we did. Why don’t you park near the door? We’re going to have a lot of things to load when we’re done.”
Before we got out, I clicked the leash on Kojak. Then Houston lowered the tailgate, allowing the dog to jump down. He seemed excited to be going on an adventure. I just hoped he’d behave, so Houston wouldn’t change his mind about the adoption before he even got him home.
******
“Which toy?” Houston held a stuffed doggy in one hand and a stuffed moose in the other. Kojak was sitting in front of him, looking intently at the offerings. After a few seconds, Kojak had lifted his front paw and touched the moose. Houston tossed it into the basket. So far, Houston had allowed Kojak to pick his own bed, collar, leash, chew toy, sleeping toy, and dog biscuits. I suggested he just buy the food that was best suited for a dog of Kojak’s size, rather than letting him choose his own. From the conversation that seemed to be going on between the man and his new best friend, breakfast was going to consist of Froot Loops for both dog and man, so a nutritious dinner was going to be a must.
After we’d filled two baskets with everything any dog could want or need, and more toys than one dog could reasonably play with, we headed to Houston’s house. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but certainly not the two-story structure perched on the bank of the lake. It was on a large lot, a portion of which was fenced, providing plenty of room for Kojak to get as much exercise as he desired.
“You have a beautiful piece of property,” I said as Houston pulled into the circular drive.
“I like it. When I came to Rescue to officially accept the job and find a place to live, this was the first place the real estate agent showed me. I fell in love with it and bought it without looking at anything else.”
I opened the truck door and stepped out. Across the lake was a gorgeous view of the mountains. I bet it was lovely in the morning as the sun came up. I could picture Houston sitting on the wraparound deck, drinking his coffee and welcoming the day.
Houston lowered the tailgate and Kojak jumped down. He ran around, sniffing everything in sight but not wandering too far. He’d come so far with his training in such a short time. I really did have high hopes for him.
I helped Houston carry everything inside, then let him give me a tour before we went back outside for a short training session. We’d gone through the basics and were working on retrieval exercises when I got a call from Kelly. The moose was doing better, and she hoped I’d be able to take him home for the weekend. I promised to be by to get him before she closed for the day.
“What was that all about?” Houston asked, as Kojak politely dropped the hard rubber object shaped like a stick we used for training at his feet.
“It was Kelly, the local veterinarian. You should meet her. She was calling to ask if I could pick up my moose today.”
“Your moose?”
“A baby moose. Less than a week old. Abandoned, with a broken leg. He’s going to hang out in my barn with Homer until we can come up with a long-term plan for him.”
“Homer?”
“My blind mule. I guess I didn’t have time to introduce you when you came by. Anyway, I told Kelly I’d be by before she closes. If you can drive me back to my Jeep, that would be great.”
Houston glanced at me with a look of amazement on his face. “You want me to take you back to your Jeep so you can pick up your moose and take him home to bunk with your blind mule?”
I nodded. “That’s exactly what I just said.”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll come to the vet with you. It’d be good to meet her. We can use my truck to transport the moose to your house. I’ll run you back to the shelter later to get your Jeep.”
I shrugged. “Fine by me. Kojak can ride in the cab with us. We’ll put the moose in the back. I’m sure Kelly has a dog crate large enough to secure him for the short ride.”
It made my heart happy to see that Kojak and Houston were getting along so well, and in the short time we’d spent together this afternoon, Houston had relaxed quite a bit. He’d bought two dog beds, one for the living area downstairs and one for his bedroom, but I imagined Kojak might start off on the floor, and I was willing to bet he’d be cuddling with his handsome human in the huge bed that had me enjoying a daydream or two about a cuddle session of my own.
******
“I think the space is organized just fine,” I said to Houston later that afternoon, after we’d picked up my still-unnamed moose and were settling him into his new temporary home.
“It makes more sense to have the water trough closer to the back, where it won’t make as much of a mess if he spills it,” Houston argued.
“Maybe, but it’ll be harder to fill. Besides, I’m in here cleaning stalls every day. Even if he spills his water, it won’t be a catastrophe. What I’d like to do is figure out how to rig a bottle to a larger canister filled with the milk substitute Kelly gave me. She said the moose needs to eat often. I can’t be here to feed him as frequently as he might need, but if I could rig a self-feeder of some sort, I’d just need to fill it two or three times a day.”
Houston put his hands on his hips, his right one resting on the butt of his gun, which he seemed to have on his person whether he was on duty or not. “The bottle Kelly gave you is pretty big. It should be easy to secure it so it’s accessible on demand. The trick is going to be to keep it filled. Maybe we can use an empty keg from the bar. We can fill it with the milk substitute, hang it high enough so the milk will run down, and then rig a hose from the keg to the bottle that we can secure at a height the moose will find comfortable to feed from.”
I smiled. “That’s a good idea. I’ll call Jake to see if he has an empty I can have. I have the perfect tubing to use. It should slide right over the bottom of the bottle once I cut a hole in it, forming an airtight seal.”
“Taking care of all these animals seems like a huge commitment.”
“It is. Not only a time commitment but a financial one as well. Even with a lot of juggling on both accounts, it’s been a struggle. That’s why I was so grateful to Harley for donating the land and building for the shelter. I r
eally think it’s going to make all the difference in terms of the numbers of dogs and cats we can save.”
“Are baby moose part of your business plan?” Houston asked as he helped me shovel hay into the stall.
“Not yet. We don’t have the staff or infrastructure to take on the rescue and rehabilitation of wild animals, but maybe someday…”
“You’re quite a woman, Harmony Carson.”
I tried to stifle a smile. “Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.” I opened the stall door and left the area now that the moose was settled. “I’m going to take the dogs for a walk. Would you and Kojak like to join us?”
“Do you walk around out in the woods alone every day?”
“Twice a day. But I have seven dogs, so I’m never alone.”
“I’m not sure walking around in the forest by yourself is a good idea. At least not until we catch up with Ragland.”
“The dogs need exercise and I have seven dogs and a fully loaded rifle. I’ll be fine. Having said that, I’d welcome the company. Maybe we can grab a bite on the way back to the shelter to pick up my Jeep.”
Houston hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I’m curious to see how Kojak does with your dogs.”
“They’ll be fine. Denali is a wolf hybrid who can be cranky at times, but if I tell him to chill, he’ll chill. If you want, we can wander over to Ragland’s cabin to make sure it’s still unoccupied.”
“I have my men keeping an eye on the place, but I don’t have all that many to go around. As long as I’m here, I wouldn’t mind taking a peek. I’ll grab my binoculars from the truck.”
If Ragland was there, he’d hear eight dogs approaching well before we got close enough to get a peek with binoculars, but I decided not to say as much because checking out the cabin had been my idea in the first place.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you what you thought about the bomb Ragland tied to Jennifer to create a diversion,” I said. “It seems odd to me that he’d have one on hand, ready to go. Our showing up when we did couldn’t have been factored into his plan.”
“It did seem a bit too convenient. The bomb was a simple device on a timer. Very low tech. If Ragland was Special Forces, I have no doubt he could have known how to build it. I suppose he might have had the bomb on hand in the event he needed it, yet it seems equally likely it was intended to be used as part of some plan that hadn’t yet played itself out.”
“So he still might be planning to blow something up?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Any idea what?” I asked.
“Not a clue.”
When we reached the cabin, Houston pulled his gun. The dogs weren’t exhibiting any signs of concern, which was enough to convince me the place was empty. The front door was unlocked, and Houston slowly opened it and went inside. “It’s clear,” he said after poking his head into every room.
“What about the hidden passage?” I asked.
He led me to a trapdoor in the floor of a closet in one of the bedrooms and pulled it open to expose a dark hole that opened into the passage. “Wait here with the dogs.” He pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket, then took a step down. He disappeared for a minute or two, then poked his head back through the opening in the floor. “This is all clear as well. I think the guy is long gone.”
I thought about the explosive device he might have had built for some as-yet-unknown reason. “I hope so.”
“Let’s go back to your place,” Houston suggested. “I should check in at the station. It’s been fun to play hooky today, but I do have a killer to track down.”
I watered the dogs, then had Houston run me back to the shelter to pick up my Jeep. He wanted to check in with his men, so I headed to Neverland to see if Jake had time to help me rig up a feeding system for my newest guest. Jake was an innovator who was good with his hands. The basic concept Houston had come up with was a good one; now I just needed my favorite brother-in-law to turn it into a reality.
******
“So, are you going to continue to call this cute little guy Moose?” Jake asked later that afternoon as he helped me with the feeding system.
“No. He does need a name. He’s so little and cute now, but he’s going to grow up to be a big bull with a lot of power, so I don’t want to stick him with a fluffy name like Honeypot.”
Jake laughed. “Honeypot isn’t a very manly name. I guess you could just call him Bull.”
“I thought of that. And it’s still a possibility. I also thought of giving him an Alaskan name, like Kobuk or Valdez.” I handed Jake the pair of pliers he’d asked for. “And there are names of towns in Alaska that are common names for males, like Craig or Saint Michael.”
“What about Palmer or Anderson?” Jake suggested as he tested the keg we’d rigged to serve as the storage unit for the self-feeder.
“Possibilities as well.” I mulled the suggestions over in my mind. Most of the time when it came to naming a new animal in my life, the name came to me fairly easily. “How about Rocky?”
“Rocky was the squirrel,” Jake countered.
“So? I like Rocky. It’s manly and easy to remember.”
Jake shrugged. “Seems like a fine name as long as you aren’t going to mind pretty much everyone reminding you that Bullwinkle was the moose and Rocky was the squirrel.”
That was true. Still, I liked the name as much as any I’d considered.
“I think this should do it,” Jake said, taking a step back.
“We should test it. I’ll mix up some of the milk substitute and we’ll see if we can get Rocky to drink from it.”
“How long until he’s on vegetation?” Jake asked.
“Not long. Kelly’s going to begin introducing plant-based food next week.”
Rocky appeared to be afraid of the strange contraption Jake had spent most of the afternoon building until he realized it produced milk. We’d have to keep an eye on the situation to make sure he didn’t overeat, though Kelly didn’t think that would be a problem. Besides, Rocky had some catching up to do when it came to overall weight. He was smaller than most newborns, but we’d toughen him up so he could, hopefully, live in the wild one day.
“I need to get back to the bar,” Jake said once he was finished. “I asked Wyatt to come in and Sarge is planning to work, so if you need time off to recover from your week, I think we’ll be fine without you.”
“I’ll be in,” I said without giving it much thought. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure I want to hang out at home alone with nothing to do but stress over whether Ragland has moved on or is still in town, whether he’d done everything he set out to do or there are more victims out there blissfully unaware that he’s coming for them.”
Chapter 10
It was the dogs barking that woke me from the first deep sleep I’d had in days. I tried to focus on the source of the commotion as I struggled toward wakefulness. “What is it?” I groggily asked as I sat up and tried to get my bearings.
Denali and Yukon were at the back door, barking and growling, and Honey and Lucky were both on the bed with me, both barking as well, and Shia was running around the house barking as if she couldn’t quite figure out what it was she was supposed to do.
I grabbed my rifle and stood up. Walking slowly toward the bedroom window, I glanced outside to see something that terrified me more than I could ever imagine. “Oh God,” I cried as I ran to the back door. It had only taken a single glance to reveal that the barn was on fire. Without even stopping to put on shoes or a jacket, I ran out into the night. I didn’t want the dogs to get hurt in the blaze, so I left them in the house.
As soon as I opened the barn door, Kodi and Juno ran out. They slept in the barn, but they were free to roam the interior and therefore weren’t penned. I ran to the pen where Homer was housed and opened the gate to his stall. I clicked a rope to his halter, then picked up the baby moose. Once I had him securely in my arms, I grabbed Homer by the rope and somehow got them both out. I tied Homer to
a tree far enough away from the flames so he wouldn’t be injured. I wanted to take the moose up to the house, but I needed to go back for the rabbits, so I laid him on the grass and hoped he wouldn’t be so terrified he would injure himself even more than he already was by trying to get away.
The smoke was hot and thick by the time I returned for the rabbits. My lungs burned as I opened the door to the cage, then carried them out into the yard one by one. By the time I had them all out, the building was completely enflamed. I let out a sigh of relief and was about to turn to take inventory of the animals I’d just rescued when I felt something stab my back.
“I wondered if you’d be able to save them all before the whole thing went up.”
I knew it was Ragland before I turned around. “I should have known it was you. Only a pathetic looser would set fire to a barn full of animals.” I tried not to flinch as the barrel of the gun between my shoulder blades was shoved harder into the soft tissue of my back.
“Pretty big speech for a little girl who didn’t even take the time to put on shoes.”
I clenched my hands when I realized that at some point I’d dropped my rifle. I wondered if it was still in the house or if I’d left it in the barn. I could hear the dogs I’d left in the house barking like crazy, but unfortunately, I wasn’t in a position to comfort and reassure them. “The moose. Did you see the moose?”
“Seems to me a baby moose is the least of your problems.” The gun was shoved harder into my back. “Now, how about you and I take a little walk?”
Like hell. I was under no illusions that he wouldn’t shoot me where I stood if I resisted, but in that moment, I made the decision that if I was going to die, it was going to be in my own yard, protecting the animals I considered family.
