Darc had evolved in his social attunement enough to know that he did not like Kent the FBI profiler. The burn in the back of his throat each time he saw the man confirmed his calculations. There was no doubt of his intellect, although Darc had yet to see the full proof of it.
Kent was a bundle of brown. Not gray. Not green or blue or orange or red. Not any of the colors he was used to seeing. It was like Kent was covered in mud. Or perhaps that was just how Darc wished he looked.
Just as he had recognized Maggie’s attraction to Trey long before his partner had. It was simply a combination of visible physiological changes that marked attraction. Once it was brought to his attention, he had noticed those markers in Mala, but now her cheeks were blushing for this profiler, with his anthropological explanation of the myth of this Bigfoot.
The profiler was half right. The kills were the work of a modern man. All the rest was simply wild speculation. Could Mala not see that? She was a gifted woman. So why were her pupils dilating for Kent?
She added some sticks to the fire. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
The FBI profiler opened his mouth to answer, when a voice called in to their campsite from the path they had hiked to get back here. It was the campsite host, and at his side was the ranger, the scowl he seemed to permanently have on his face etched even deeper by the flickering of the campfire
“You finding everything okay there?” the campsite host asked. The man entered the circle made by the camp chairs around the fire and shook each of their hands. That seemed an odd use of the man’s time, as their party would only be here for the night. What was the purpose in the social custom of touching hands? The man’s grip was strong, and Darc observed his arms as the handshakes continued.
On the outside of the circle, the ranger continued to just stare at the group. His cell phone rang, and with a slight change in his attitude, the man separated himself from the group.
“Hey, honey, I told you I’d get those birds as soon as I was done…” he said as he moved off into the trees.
The campsite host gazed around the fire. “Name’s Billy, and I’m here to help you with whatever you might need out here.”
The man was young. From the weathering of his skin, taking into account his outdoor lifestyle, Darc would estimate he was in his early thirties. The post of campsite host, from Darc’s studies of the subject on the Internet, was typically held by retired men, women and couples.
“We’re fine,” the FBI profiler, his form covered in the brown non-light, answered. “But we could use some information.”
“What can I help you with?” Billy asked.
“There have been multiple killings in these woods,” Darc said, stepping in between Kent and the host. The impulse came from a mixing of the grey emotional wash inside of Darc that mixed with the brown of the profiler, creating something resembling canine vomit in Darc’s inner landscape.
“Dude,” Trey hissed. “Tact.”
But Billy was shaking his head. “I know. It’s a shame.”
“Did you talk to any of them?” Mala asked. “You know, before…”
The host peered over at Mala, his eyes glistening in the light of the flickering flame. His lips turned down in a scowl, but Darc could not ascertain what the expression meant in this context.
“That I did. Wish I could say they were well-behaved kids, but…” He made a tsk with tongue and teeth. “You know teenagers. They’re good deep down, but sometimes it’s really deep.”
“What was the problem?” the profiler asked.
Billy waved his hand. “Oh, you know. Drinking. Getting rowdy. Stuff like that. No big deal for the most part, I suppose.”
“That’s not what Ranger Grumpy over there had to say about it,” Trey muttered, walking over to warm his hands in the fire and gesturing in the general direction of the ranger with his chin. “To hear him, you’d think they were devil worshippers.”
The host chuckled. “Oh, you mean Greg? He’s a good man. Just a bit cranky at times. ‘Specially when it comes to his campground.”
Trey turned to Darc and mouthed, cranky? Darc just stared back at his partner, unsure of what was meant by the communication. Was Trey needing Darc to supply a definition of the word?
The ranger had complained of the lack of progress Darc and Trey had made in the case. Then immediately afterward he had argued that their presence here was scaring off other campers. There seemed to be no use of logic in his assessment of what was needed in this situation.
That did seem as if it could fit within the general definition of the word cranky. Darc would recommend to Trey that he begin consulting a dictionary. His vocabulary could use quite a bit of work.
“Anyway, I’d better be off. Got to get my beauty sleep.” The host yawned and stretched, then waved as he walked back down the path. “Hey, Greg, you coming?”
The ranger crossed through their campsite, following behind the younger campsite host. There was no farewell or even eye contact from the man. He had violated seven of Trey’s rules of social etiquette in the short space of time he had been here.
As soon as he’d gone out of earshot, the FBI profiler turned to the rest of the group.
“They’re not telling us something.”
* * *
Trey perked up at that. “What do you mean?”
“The case files,” Kent answered, looking around at the group. “Seriously, did no one look at the case files?”
“Hey!” Trey shot back. “I looked at them. Mostly.” That last word was under his breath.
“And did you happen to notice the pattern?”
“Uhhh…” Trey began. But Darc stepped in before the floundering got really bad.
“Animal abuse,” the bald detective intoned.
“Hey, look,” the profiler said, raising his eyebrows. “The block of granite masquerading as a savant speaks. And is contributing something other than sullen looks for once.”
Kent glanced over at Janey, who was looking straight at the BAU agent. Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he spoke to the girl.
“You’re right. You’re right. I’ll stop.”
Darc peered over at Mala, a tiny crease forming between his eyebrows. Trey knew that look. His partner was confused.
“She said nothing,” the detective uttered.
But Mala just shrugged. “I can’t explain it either, Darc.”
Kent chuckled. “Nothing to explain. She’s talking loud and clear. It’s just that none of you speaks her language. Am I right?” he called out to Janey, giving her another high-five. But even as the girl slapped the profiler’s palm, her look to him intensified. Trey couldn’t figure out how they had done it, but they seemed to have worked out a system of micro-expression shorthand.
“I should knock it off. Got it. But you have to admit, he’s awfully fun to goad.”
Janey’s look intensified to a downright glare. Kent backed up a step.
“Okay, Okay,” Kent said, chuckling. “Besides, we need to talk through this Sasquatch thing, anyway. All right, boys and girls, we’re going to prove Bigfoot’s existence at the same time we get to catch us a serial killer.”
“There is nothing about which to speak,” Darc said. “If the Sasquatch existed in numbers great enough to provide for an ample breeding pool, there would be significant signs of its presence.”
“Unless…” Trey said, liking how this profiler was thinking. Or maybe he just appreciated that someone intelligent was backing him up. “Unless they were smart and trying to hide. You know, like sneaky.”
Kent moved in closer to Trey and said in a mock whisper, “You have got to up your game, man,” He then spoke to the group. “But yeah, pretty much that.”
“Sorry,” Mala said, standing up and brushing her hands against her pants. “Even with our earlier conversation, I still have to side with Darc.”
Kent stared around the circle. “I’m surrounded by skeptics.” He turned to Janey. “You’re open minded about this, aren’t
you?” He stared at the little girl for a moment. “See, Janey agrees with me.”
Mala smiled at that. “But even you said that you don’t think this is the work of the Sasquatch. That this was a human serial killer.”
“Yes, but I think Sasquatch might be involved.”
“What?” Trey blurted out. This wasn’t making any sense. “First you say that there’s a Sasquatch out here. Then that it’s not him. Then that it is. Explain.”
Kent got a hard glint in his eye. He turned to look each one of them straight in the face for a long moment.
“I will,” he said. “Every one of these attacks was to try to prevent abuse against other animals.”
There was something in the profiler’s tone that Trey thought he could identify. Kent seemed to be pleased about what Bigfoot was doing. Kent continued.
“What if Sasquatch is helping the serial killer to protect the forest?”
* * *
Janey had to pee. Really bad.
Popeye thought it was funny, but it wasn’t. Not at all. It wasn’t like being back at the apartment, where she could just pop into the bathroom. It was dark and there were trees everywhere around.
But she thought she remembered seeing a potty back along the path. All the grown ups were arguing about whether or not Bigfoot was real. That seemed silly.
If he was real, then they’d find him. If he wasn’t, then they would figure out who it was that was killing people.
Simple.
But for right now, she didn’t want to interrupt them, so when Mala and Kent were arguing about how many traces Sasquatches should leave behind, Janey slipped back through the trees. It shouldn’t take her long to get over to the path that led to the porta-potty. She’d be back before anyone even noticed.
But after a minute, she could tell that she must have missed the path.
Popeye huffed at her, complaining that she always did this. It wasn’t true, but right now Janey didn’t want to waste any energy telling him that. It was dark, and she was having a hard time remembering the way back to the camp.
Plus, she still had to pee.
She moved around the side of a tree, when right in front of her, she saw something move. It was smaller than she was, and a dark color that she could pick out, even in the dim light from the moon that was hiding behind thin clouds.
It was a bear cub.
The cub was crying a little bit, and Janey understood how the little guy felt. Popeye said that the cub wasn’t that cute and that they should go find the bathroom.
Janey told him to hush.
She inched toward the bear, and the tiny cub stopped crying as she got closer. He liked her, she could tell.
But then, behind her, Janey heard a sound. She spun around, and there, looming over her, was another bear, but this was much bigger.
The mama had found her cub, and this one didn’t seem to like Janey so much.
CHAPTER 5
A thread of light wormed its way into Darc’s consciousness, making him aware of something that no one else had noticed as of yet. Everyone was so engaged with the argument that no one had seen Janey leave.
No one but Darc.
He could see from her behavior that she needed to go to the bathroom, and so he had decided not to speak of it. The girl was capable of attending to that bodily function on her own.
But the lines of logic in his mind had continued tracking, and it had now been too long. Janey should have been back by now.
“Stop talking,” he said into the cacophony of voices. They stilled for a moment.
“You know,” Trey said, his tone higher than normal. “Just because you disagree doesn’t mean you can tell us to shut up.”
“Janey’s gone,” Darc stated, without further explanation. His words had the desired effect. Instead of continuing the argument, everyone began searching. Mala called out to the girl, her tone tense and shrill. Grey tones that filtered into Darc’s awareness without helping him understand what was happening.
But he knew which direction she’d gone. “This way,” he said. “And stop calling.” They would learn more by listening than by calling out to her. Janey was smart enough to track her way back to them using only the sounds of their searching.
The glittering pathways spread out before him, filtering and processing the stimuli that entered into his awareness. Broken twigs and bent blades of grass blazed a trail through the underbrush that Darc was able to follow with ease.
And then there was a sound that affected him in a way that he did not fully understand. It was the sound of a bear roaring, and it caused a chill to rush through his body.
Strange.
That did not seem like a useful response to have in a moment such as this.
Mala sobbed and tried to rush forward, but Darc held her back, his grip firm on her arm. “Stop. Do not move.”
He allowed the sounds of the forest to filter into his perceptions. There. The sounds of movement up ahead.
Rushing forward, he entered a clearing, where he could see a huge bear rearing back on its hind legs. And there, right in front of the attacking creature, was the girl.
“Play dead, Janey! Play dead!” Mala screamed at the girl as the doctor came up at Darc’s side. But that advice was not accurate. This was the wrong kind of bear.
Trey pulled out his gun, aiming at the beast, but Darc slapped the weapon down. Firing at the bear could indeed kill it, but if Trey’s aim wasn’t perfect, it would make the situation worse.
Darc began to rush in, when the FBI profiler entered from the other side, waving his arms and screaming nonsense syllables at the bear. The animal took a swipe at him, but the trails of light warned of the trajectory of the attack, and he was able to duck.
Moving about to the side, the profiler darted in and struck the bear on the muzzle, once, twice. There was a squeal of surprise, and the bear lowered down onto all fours, seeming confused. She shook her head, growling at him.
The grey surged up in Darc, threatening his equilibrium. Kent was doing what Darc had intended, protecting Janey. Darc should be grateful to the man, and yet, that did not seem to be his response. There was a whispering from the formless wash of non-color within him that spoke of the profiler stealing Janey and Mala from him.
Darc moved in, angling around from the other side of the direction in which Kent had rushed the bear. His vantage from this standpoint allowed for Darc to observe the scene in a way that no one else could.
At that moment, Darc noticed the cub. It was directly in front of Janey. The shards of light converged, and he understood what he needed to do.
Darting in while Kent held the bear’s attention, Darc scooped up Janey into his arms and rushed back away from the bear cub. He moved into the trees, angling back the way they had come.
Once they were out of the clearing, the black bear moved forward, nosing at her cub. The tiny bear mewed up at his mother, then took a playful swat at her nose. The mother responded with a swat of her own that tumbled the cub end over end.
But the roaring had stopped. The growling was done.
The mother bear collected her offspring and headed back out into the forest. Janey’s arms wrapped around Darc’s waist and squeezed tight.
Kent stood where he had been when he charged the bear, staring off into the night. The brown that was the man’s presence in Darc’s mind lingered, creating a sour note to accompany Darc’s relief in Janey’s rescue.
Mala moved over to Darc’s side and knelt down. Seeing her, Janey transferred her hug from Darc’s waist to Mala’s neck, clinging to her adoptive mother as if she were the animal cub that had needed protecting.
In a way, she had been.
“Dude,” Trey breathed. “Kent just attacked a bear. And won.”
Darc stared back at his partner, his colorless emotional reaction surging within. There was a logical explanation for Kent’s behavior that Darc wished to express, but it was necessary to push past the grey in order to do so. He was reluctant
to praise the man.
“That is the only way to behave when a black bear attacks.”
Trey shook his head. “Still… you gotta admit, the man’s impressive.” The expression on the shorter man’s face changed, altering in a grey pattern that Darc could not quite comprehend. “Hey, you don’t think that the killings were that momma out there, do you?”
“No,” Darc answered. “The claw marks could possibly have been caused by a grizzly, but not a black bear.”
“Besides,” Mala added, still holding tight to Janey and stroking her hair. “That wouldn’t account for the broken necks. That doesn’t really match a bear attack.”
“So…” Trey said. “It could still be the Sasquatch.”
Mala released a puff of air through her teeth that Darc was not sure how to interpret. But then her head perked up.
“Where did Kent go?”
Darc looked back to where the man had been a moment earlier, but the profiler was no longer there.
* * *
Okay, so Kent had seen Janey leave the group. He’d also noticed the bear cub and had known the momma would show up. But there had never been a chance that he would’ve let anything happen to the girl. He’d been right there the whole time.
Kent had watched as Darc had been about to take on the bear, and he had to admit, it was pretty impressive and somewhat unexpected. For someone who clearly had Asperger’s, that kind of self-sacrifice was a big deal. Janey had that kind of effect on people, clearly.
But there was another benefit that came from this encounter. It was the reason Kent had allowed the whole situation to happen in the first place.
This was the perfect opportunity to watch for the killer. And possibly the Sasquatch as well.
If they were correct in their assessment that what was drawing out the serialist… and Bigfoot… was cruelty toward his fellow woodland creatures, then this might be the moment they’d been looking for. Kent had just punched a bear in the face, after all. That should be more than enough to turn the killer’s ire against their party.
So, rather than rejoin the group, Kent moved off in a circular fashion, coming up behind them so he could observe without being spotted himself. He heard Mala acknowledge his absence, asking where he was with a note of concern in her voice. As well she should.
The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin) Page 3
