by Darrell Bain
"Or that Shufus doesn't trust. I swear, I think that dog would smell out anyone having evil intentions against her. Getting him was one of the wisest things we've ever done."
"I agree. Good morning, Sammie. We were wondering if you intended to get up today," her father teased.
"Or have breakfast before lunch," her mother added.
"I'd never miss breakfast," Samantha returned. She was used to the parental banter and enjoyed it but she thought she saw a hint of trouble in their expressions this morning.
"Neither would Shufus, considering he knows he'll get anything we don't eat. Not that you ever leave him much," Ronald said with a grin.
"I always give him something," Samantha said. "Don't I always give you a treat at breakfast, Shufus?" she addressed the big German Shepherd.
He nodded his head enthusiastically and her mother had to smile. I think that dog really does understand every word she says to him, she thought.
Then Samantha saw the newspaper, still folded to expose the article by Thomas Hoover. She looked questionably at both parents and her face fell. "Is this going to cause more problems?"
"Probably, but don't worry about it, baby," her mother said. "Just remember the rules. Don't talk to anyone about what this... this smarmy reporter wrote and don't tell anyone you can talk to animals."
Samantha's eyes opened wide in astonishment that her mother hadn't stated that she only "thought" she could talk to animals. She had said she did talk to them! "Mom! Have you changed your mind about me really talking to animals?"
"I just don't know any more, Sammie. Maybe you really can. It's hard to believe you can't, not after all the things I've seen you do with animals, especially the big ferocious ones like bears and tigers."
"They aren't really ferocious unless they're killing for food or protecting their babies, Mom. And once I tell them I won't hurt them they like and trust me. Honest!"
Her mother had to smile at the thought of her diminutive daughter telling a grizzly bear or a tiger that she wouldn't hurt them. Apparently that's what she did, though. Somehow.
Seeing her smile Samantha got up and came around the table to where she was sitting and hugged her and then kissed her on the cheek. "You and Dad have been so good to me over my talent, Mom. Thank you. And thank you, Dad."
She had tears in her eyes and both parents brushed at the wetness in their own. Perhaps the morning wasn't going to be that bad after all.
Chapter Twelve
Steve Orleans did agree to confront Thomas Hoover, the reporter of the latest story about Samantha. After calling him and insisting that they should meet, they agreed upon a bar and grill suggested by Hoover. The meeting was set for the following evening.
Upon arriving, Hoover stood up to greet the attorney, recognizing him from a photo in the Chronicle's files. Steve thought he looked slightly apprehensive in the less than brilliant lighting of the corner booth he'd chosen as the two men shook hands perfunctorily.
"Now, Mr. Orleans, what can I do for you?" Hoover asked, getting right down to business.
Steve held up his hand as a waitress approached to take his order. Hoover was already working on a glass and drained it by the time she arrived. "I'll another of the same and give my friend here whatever he wants."
"Scotch and soda rocks, please."
The two men said nothing until she returned with the drinks but each eyed the other warily.
Steve took a sip of scotch and set the glass down. "You wanted to know what you can do for me so I'll make it real simple for you, Mr. Hoover. I understand perfectly about freedom of the press but as an attorney, I'm also familiar with a number of laws that are sometimes pertinent to that freedom, especially when writing about juveniles. I believe a couple of them may be applicable in your case."
"Look, I can write whatever I like and so long as a reputable newspaper publishes it, I doubt that I can be sued. You should know the Chronicle has attorneys for cases where journalists are threatened."
"Who said anything about a threat? I'm simply informing you that your article was slanted enough to cast aspersions on Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Douglas' performance as parents, which could very likely approach the legal basis for slander. And as I said, there are laws pertaining to what might be written about minors, which I'm still researching. And finally, in your reference concerning my competence in judging whether or not Samantha is well-adjusted, you may be interested in knowing that I received a degree in Psychology and a minor in Journalism before going to law school. Comments?"
Hoover's confrontational expression had gradually faded as Steve spoke. By the time he finished, the sloppily-dressed reporter was looking decidedly less belligerent. In fact, his mouth was hanging slightly open and dragging at his ragged mustache. Suddenly realizing this, he got it closed enough to ask, "Just what are you after, Mr. Orleans?"
"I'll leave that for you to guess. Suffice to say that I, as well as the Douglas family, would be very appreciative if you decided not to write anything else concerning their daughter unless it is a bona fide news story and not some piece of junk you managed to slip by the Chronicle's editor. Do you think you could manage that?"
"Listen, you can't just tell me what to write and not to write. A judge's decisions are legitimate news."
"So they are, as long as you confine it to that. I won't say anything else for now. If you have any questions please feel free to call. Here's my card. Thanks for the drink." Steve stood up and left without another word, leaving Hoover agape in his wake.
***
Thomas Hoover wasn't a very brave man to begin with and the fact that he'd had a couple of altercations with the Houston Police Department caused him to stop and think before writing anything else about Samantha. The meeting with Steve Orleans convinced him to slow down but not stop his investigation of her activities in the past. Also, despite his dislike of Jesha Meriweather he decided to feel her out and see if she would work with him quietly. Between the two of them they could probably make a case for removing the girl from her parents' custody. That would be legitimate news!
"It's for her own good, of course," he said sympathetically at their first meeting, seated at the same bar and grill where Steve Orleans had caused him to back away from further mention of Samantha-for the time being. "That judge should never have issued a restraining order against your investigation."
"Of course he shouldn't have. Sometimes I think that damned Orleans has every judge in the area in his pocket."
"Well, the cure for that is to make certain that the next time she's placed in danger we have plenty of supporting evidence, enough that a judge won't dare interfere. That way, I can support you in the papers and on the internet, and probably the television stations will jump into the fray as well."
"A lot of good that did the last time, Mr. Hoover!"
"This time will be different and please, if we're going to be working together let's use first names, Jesha. Alright?"
Meriweather considered whether her dignity and the dignity of her office would allow it. She didn't want the man becoming too familiar with her. However, there was bound to be enough of a history in the girl's life to support plenty of publicity in favor of her opinion, with Hoover to supply the written word and get the ball rolling. That was depending on whether they could gather enough negative evidence from the previous abode of the Douglas family in Alaska. From Hoover's story she deduced that not many of the people there wanted to talk to outsiders. Money might fix that problem, perhaps enough to even revise their history.
"Fine, Thomas," she said. "Now as I understand it, we'll need to pool our resources in order to investigate her life when the Douglas family lived in Alaska. There was a bit of news about it before, but I think the Asian war and political news pushed it to the back pages of the internet and newspapers that no one reads. I also got the impression that the stringer for the Chronicle in Alaska didn't do a very good job. We need to discover everything that went on up there with the Douglas family. After that
, you be prepared to write up anything that's unfavorable to them but nothing that makes them look good. Not a thing!"
"I'm completely in your camp, Jesha. I'll get us started by searching out everything I can find on the internet about their lives in Alaska and perhaps you could begin a... a clandestine investigation, if you will." He paused for a moment to consider then continued, "I think we'll probably have to find the means to send an investigator up to Alaska to interview people who knew the family there. Do you have any discretionary funding you could use for that purpose?"
Meriweather's facial features screwed up in thought. A moment later she relaxed for a moment but then frowned while going over how she could juggle the books enough to squeeze out the money that would be needed. Then her face brightened as she realized she wouldn't have to do a thing herself. All she had to do was mention to the accountant for the Lufkin office that she required a certain amount of funding for an investigator to travel out of state-a great distance from the state of Texas. And at the same time she could hint at a promotion or a raise or possibly even a bonus to reward the lady for her efforts. Perhaps it would skirt the edges of good bookkeeping practice, but if any questions were raised it would be the accountant that paid for whatever penalties that might be levied, not her. "I believe that could be managed, Thomas. After all, that poor girl needs to be protected from the dangers her parents so consistently expose her to!" Meriweather uttered the statement in such a virtuous manner that she almost believed it herself.
Nevertheless, their plans to raise the money and investigate the endangered child's background so far from her present abode couldn't be done immediately. The accountant would have to be approached in just the right manner. In turn, she would probably need some time to figure out the best way to proceed with the bookkeeping irregularities so that they wouldn't be noticed. After that they would need an investigator who would be properly receptive to the instructions she would have to give, to ignore favorable findings but record any unfavorable ones. The investigator would have to spin them in way most detrimental to the Douglas parents' upbringing of Samantha. None of this could be done in a hurry for fear of mistakes that might cause the investigation to founder but Meriweather was content to wait. This time that damned Orleans shyster would find out that he wasn't so smart after all!
***
In the meantime Samantha's thirteenth birthday was rapidly approaching. Elaine asked if she would like to have a birthday party. "You could invite your friends and classmates and have it here at home or maybe at a pizza place. What do you think?"
"Mom, I don't have all that many friends. The kids in my class were mean to me when I helped Growlfer."
Her mother was well aware of that, of course, but she was surprised to hear her daughter admit that she didn't have many friends. She's such a pretty girl and developing so quickly that I'm surprised she doesn't at least have a little boyfriend already.
"Don't you think most of them are sorry about teasing you now? Even if they haven't said so?"
"I don't know, Mom."
"Maybe you need to be a little more outgoing yourself, honey. If you don't have many friends it may be partly your own fault."
Samantha hadn't thought of it that way. Since that episode in the classroom, she had withdrawn somewhat from the way she had been gradually overcoming her shyness. Now she found herself spending more time with Shufus and wishing that people could be more like him, so completely nonjudgmental and loving. In the back of her mind she knew it was unrealistic to think people could be that way but still, she wished for it. "I guess it probably is partly my own fault, Mom," she said reluctantly. She often envied others at school, boys and girls both who seemed to have no problem at all intermixing and laughing and talking with each other.
"Why don't you just invite the whole class?" Elaine asked. "That way you wouldn't have to single any one out. Would that work?" She was hoping that it would. She was beginning to worry about her daughter. She had thought occasionally that she spent too much time with Shufus and not enough with her classmates and friends, but now she was almost sure of it.
Samantha blushed slightly as she thought of someone she really would like to be friends with, a boy in her class named Shelton Brady, who was really cute, tall and with blond hair and deep blue eyes. Betty had even said she thought he was interested in her. If the whole class was invited it shouldn't be a complete disaster, even if Shelton didn't come. And if he did... well, maybe she'd get a chance to talk to him outside of the school environment. "Alright, Mom. Could we have it here, though? And order pizza?" She couldn't bear the thought of embarrassing herself in public but the thought of the warm environment of her home might keep that from happening. And Shufus would be right there with her!
"Certainly, Sammie. Your birthday is on a Saturday so that will work out fine. Maybe you could ask Betty to help you plan it, too."
"Okay, I will, Mom." She smiled for the first time since her birthday had been mentioned. Betty was popular and wouldn't mind helping at all. "She's good at art and drawing, too. She could help me design some invitations and all."
She and her mother went on to talk about some other aspects of the prospective party and she found her enthusiasm for it growing. For the first time since the traumatic advent of the CPS visit, Samantha found that she was completely relaxed and not worrying over what other people might think of her talent. It felt so much better that she vowed to keep the attitude going as much as she possibly could. Even her mother appeared to be coming around, she thought. She had accompanied her on one of the two visits she'd been called on to assist Dr. Summers at the zoo. Both cases had been relatively simple for her to help with, although it had taken some time to figure out what ailed the chimpanzee. Finally she had gotten it to admit that it had a persistent tummy ache. It had taken a half hour of talking to the chimp before she finally found the key to the problem. It admitted that it had been eating dirt, but never in sight of its keepers. When she told Dr. Summers, the veterinarian diagnosed it after some quick research. The chimpanzee was from Uganda where certain chimps eat the dirt and a plant that together protect against malaria. Putting the chimp into an area with cement floors and no available dirt quickly solved the problem.
She had also been called to the zoo to see if she could figure out why a timber wolf had become extremely savage when people came near it for apparently no reason at all. That time her mother had gone with her. She remembered the event perfectly. When the wolf had snarled and bared its teeth at Samantha the instant it saw her and the adults, Elaine had put her hand on Samantha's shoulder. "Sammie, that wolf looks really dangerous. I don't want you to get close enough to touch it at all. Understand?"
"Let me talk to it for a minute or two, Mom. Maybe I can find out why it wants to be so mean." First though, she turned to Dr. Summers who had led them to the wolf's cage. "Why is it in a cage Dr. Summers?"
"It's too dangerous to let you try to do anything with it in its regular environment. Maybe the other wolves wouldn't bother you but I certainly don't trust this one. It mauled the hand of one of the employees who was feeding it."
"How long has it been like this?"
"Oh... let me think. Say about six months ago, more or less. That's when it began and it's gotten worse over time. We may have to euthanize it soon if you can't figure out what's wrong. I certainly haven't had any success."
Samantha looked at the wolf. It snarled and growled and bit at the bars of its cage, trying to get at her. "Wolf, why are you being so bad and mean?"
It backed away, startled at being able to understand a human but it didn't reply.
"What's your name, Wolf? And why won't you talk to me?"
Grrroowwlll! Name Befos of Rough Fur. Go away!
"No, I won't go away until you tell me what's wrong with you."
Go away. Come near and bite!
"Why do you want to bite people, Befos? Don't they feed you well?"
Humans mean! Growl!
"I'm not
mean, am I?"
Maybe.
"What do you mean, maybe, Befos? Can't you see I'm not? Has some other human been mean to you?"
Yes! Mean, mean!
"Tell me which one and I'll make him stop."
The wolf cocked its head. It couldn't decide what to make of the young female human who could talk so well to it. Human man mean, it finally said.
While Samantha was talking to it the wolf had quit snarling and growling but it hadn't remained silent by any means. It had been uttering little sounds in its throat, whines and whoofs and other noises much similar to the ones Shufus made when she talked to him. Elaine recognized the utterances. "That's how Shufus, her dog, sounds when she talks to it, Dr. Summers."
"I've never heard a wolf make noises quite like those," Dr. Summers said. "I think she's really talking to it!"
Samantha was concentrating so hard on conversing with the wolf that she didn't even hear them. "Come on, Befos. Tell me which human is being mean to you. I promise to make it stop."
You can?
"Of course I can. Just a moment, Befos." She looked at Dr. Summers. "He says someone, a human man, is being mean to him. I'll try to find out which one if I can."
"Ask him when it happens, Sammie, please."
"Alright, I'll try. Befos, when does the man being mean to you do it? Is it day or night?"
Night. Pokes sharp stick. Hits. Laughs. Shows food. Doesn't give. Hits. Gives food that bites! Mean man!
"Befos says a man at night is mistreating him. He says he pokes him with a sharp stick and hits him. He offers Befos food then hits him when he tries to get it. Then he laughs at him and hits him some more. He also gives him food that bites, he says. I think that must mean it has hot pepper or something like that in it. Do you know who it could be that's doing these things to him, Dr. Summers? That's awful! No wonder he's mad!"
"It damn sure is awful!" the veterinarian said irately. "There are only two employees here at night. One is the security guard and the other checks on the animals from time to time. I suspect I know which one of them it is since the wolf started misbehaving six months ago. It's not the security guard. He's been with us for years and never been a problem. The other man is an employee I hired about seven months ago. If it's happening at night, it must be him."
