Death Chant

by Vella Munn

  Guessing what he was about to say, she clenched her hands together under the table.

  “Do you think you could be in danger?” he asked.

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “Hmm. Then why are you still here?”

  Because of Wolf.

  Because I want to learn where the wolf mask came from.

  Because of Jay…

  * * * *

  After noticing that his hands were shaking as he opened the pickup door, Winter asked Jay if he wanted her to drive.

  “I’m all right,” he said and climbed behind the wheel. “I’m going to take you to Potlatch before I tell my uncle.”

  She hadn’t expected that response. “What about what you want me to tell you?” she asked once they were on the road. “We have to talk about that. And I didn’t give Chief Klein many details about what had been going on between Doc and Floyd.”

  He gave her a blank look followed by a closing down that made her feel as if they were thousands of miles apart. “That’ll have to wait. I don’t want Uncle Talio or the rest of the tribe to hear this from anyone except me.”

  Chief Klein’s comment about her safety concerned her, but her cabin surrounded by large, mature trees represented serenity. Once she returned to it, she’d stand outside and tell Wolf how much it meant to her that he’d howled while Jay and she were having sex. Maybe Wolf would repeat his heartwarming cry. If she remained still and respectful, if she prayed to the forces she might never fathom, Wolf might step out of the shadows. Let her touch him.

  Tell her whether Yakanon saw Doc or Floyd as the soulless one, or if—

  Stark fear exploded inside her, compelling her to grab Jay’s arm. He pulled over to the side of the street and stared at her. Silently demanded an explanation.

  “Please take me with you.” She didn’t care that she sounded desperate. “Talio needs to hear what I have to say.”

  “Losing his nephew is enough for one day.”

  “Are you afraid of the truth?” Desperate determination forced out the words. At the same time, she hated every one. “You’ve been hiding from aspects of your heritage for years, and now you want to believe your brother was someone he wasn’t.”

  Jay lifted his arm as if warding off what she’d just said. She could barely believe what she’d blurted. Surely, what she knew about Floyd could wait.

  But Jay would hate her for keeping so much from him.

  He probably already did.

  * * * *

  Uncle Talio seemed to have shrunk since Jay told him that Floyd had been murdered. Despite the cool wind coming from the ocean, his uncle had been outside when Winter and he arrived. Uncle Talio must have read something in Jay’s expression, because he hadn’t said anything, only looked out at his world. Winter had stood back while Jay knelt, took hold of his uncle’s hands, and said the most difficult words he’d ever spoken.

  “I won’t let the media get to you,” Jay said when he finally stood and sat in the chair near his still-silent uncle. Winter had propped herself against the railing and was looking at them. “I told the Forks police chief how reporters could get in touch with me. I’m not sure when we’ll be able to bury him.”

  Watching his uncle slowly lift his head, Jay wondered if the task was almost too much for him. Neither of them had cried, yet.

  “Are you here because you want to be?” Uncle Talio asked Winter.

  She rubbed her throat. “Because I need to be.”

  Uncle Talio’s hands on his knees twitched, and his chin trembled. “The first time I saw you, I felt compelled to tell you about Yakanon.”

  She slumped a little. “Yes.”

  After a long sigh, Uncle Talio went on. “Did I also tell you I didn’t understand where the need came from? I’ve felt like that for days, uneasy in my skin, not wanting to face tomorrow.”

  A white-throated marbled murrelet was scratching the ground around Jay’s pickup. It reminded him of how he and Floyd had challenged each other to see who could identify the most birds. They hadn’t done that in years.

  “I thought Yakanon’s lament might be for Dr. Gilsdorf,” Uncle Talio continued. “I wanted to believe that my disquiet came because a soulless one had died in an area sacred to my people.”

  “Ghost Totem is sacred?” she asked while Jay wondered whether grief was getting between his uncle and his lifelong refusal to share what Olympic Forest meant to those whose roots weren’t in it.

  “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Yakanon is crying for my nephew.”

  “No!” Jay blurted. “Floyd isn’t—”

  Uncle Talio held up his hand. “Your brother had turned his back on his upbringing the same as you did. He drowned his soul in liquor.”

  This wasn’t the uncle he thought he knew, the man who didn’t judge. Much as he wanted to insist this wasn’t the time to bring up Floyd’s shortcomings, Uncle Talio needed to say what was in his heart. Maybe once he was done finding fault with Floyd, he could start to simply mourn him.

  “Is that what happened to Floyd?” Winter asked. “He killed too many brain cells?”

  “He didn’t deserve to be murdered,” Jay retorted.

  “I didn’t say that.” She pushed herself away from the railing and walked to the far end of the porch. She stood staring out at the forest for so long Jay wondered if she was communicating with Wolf.

  Wolf, who’d spoken to him last night.

  Looking as exhausted as he felt, she returned. “Talio, you asked why I came with Jay. It’s because I need to tell both of you something.” She knelt where he had. “This is the last thing I want to say, and I’d put it off if I could, but I can’t.”

  She was so close he could touch her hair but didn’t dare. He hadn’t felt this sick the day his ex and he’d decided to end their marriage.

  “I can’t say if Floyd’s actions were wrong.” She angled her body toward him. “That’s for you to decide, just as I’ve been wrestling with how I feel about Doc. Jay? I told you about a connection between Doc and Floyd.”

  “Yes.”

  “Doc left me a message detailing what he’d been able to accomplish here. He had concerns about his safety.” She nodded at Uncle Talio. “Maybe you picked up on some of that. Maybe Yakanon did. Doc needed someone to help him locate the remote hunting camps and villages he was convinced existed. He asked the area Natives to work with him.”

  “We discussed that request,” Uncle Talio said, “during a meeting held at Hoh River.”

  Her head bobbed. “And you decided not to.”

  “Can you blame us?” Jay demanded. Didn’t she realize how unimportant this conversation was? “Relationships between Native Americans and government have always been complex, sometimes hostile.”

  He thought she might point out that Dr. Gilsdorf hadn’t been a government agent, but she let it slide.

  “For a while,” she said, “Doc worked on his own, but he became more and more frustrated.”

  “So he approached my brother.”

  She pursed her lips. “Yes. I can tell you how that came about, but I’d rather not.”

  Because she wasn’t willing to be completely honest after all? The longer he studied her, the more difficult it became to remember that he’d spent much of last night inside her. Or why he’d wanted to have sex with her.

  Today, he just wanted her gone.

  He wanted his brother back.

  “Doc won your brother’s trust,” she was saying when he pulled himself back. “Floyd had alienated himself from his family. He needed someone to talk to.”

  He could have talked to me.

  “Maybe Doc’s dream of success became Floyd’s. Maybe he couldn’t say no. Whatever the reason—this is so hard—Floyd brought an artifact to Doc.”

  Jay had stood and yanked Winter to her feet before he realized what he’d done. “What kind of artifact?” he demanded.

  If it had been him, he would have tried to break free, but she just stood there, looking sad. “A cere
monial mask representing a wolf.” She stared at him until he had no choice but to bring her into focus. “Hundreds of years old but in perfect condition. Wherever it had been, it was safe from the elements.”

  Grandparents Cave!

  “Have you seen it?” his uncle asked without emotion.

  She trembled. “Yes.”

  “And because you’re an anthropologist, you, what, decided it’s authentic?” Why was he challenging her?

  Eyes blazing, she leaned into him, challenged him with her presence. “I have absolutely no doubt that it is, but it has nothing to do with my damn degree.”

  All at once, he didn’t want anything to do with her, so he shoved her. She stumbled backward. Watching her regain her balance, he cursed himself. He’d never used his physical strength against a woman.

  “How can you be sure?” he asked instead of apologizing.

  She stared at him until he wondered if she was looking for his soul. He should tell her he didn’t have one. “Doc sent it to me. I was drawn to it. And I put it on. When placed it over my head, I heard Wolf for the first time in years.”

  We’re not having this conversation. Damn it, I can’t handle anything more.

  “Where is the mask?” Uncle Talio sounded resigned.

  Her chest rose and fell. She stopped shaking. “Where it’s safe.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” Jay demanded.

  He thought she was going to turn and run. If she did, he wouldn’t stop her. “Too many reasons, Jay. Doc had no right doing what he did, but even though he was dead, I tried to cover for him. Having the mask made me feel complete. I finally had a connection to something.”

  He didn’t want to care about her, not today with everything else he had to deal with. Wolf embraced her. In contrast, his spirit had abandoned him.

  “You had no right to it.”

  “Didn’t I?” She looked as if he’d struck her. Wounded but surviving. “I wanted to know where it came from, but I didn’t dare ask anyone.”

  By ‘anyone,’ she meant him. “What would you do with the information?” he demanded. He wanted her the hell out of his life so he could mourn his brother. “Become famous?”

  She backed away from him. “Damn you, Jay.”

  “Yes, damn me.”

  * * * *

  The silent trip to Potlatch seemed to take forever. Before she and Jay had covered half of the distance, Winter had shoved aside her internal argument with him. She didn’t hate him, she never would. Having sex had been a mistake, a matter of overloaded hormones and not enough considering the consequences.

  She’d said things she shouldn’t have, but so had he. His comment about her having no right to the mask, coupled with his assumption that she’d exploit it, hurt. She kept reminding herself of his fragile emotional state, but it wasn’t enough. Surely he realized how wrong he was to think she’d put career ambition first.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked as he pulled in near her vehicle. “You can’t stay here much longer.”

  She would if the grant was awarded to her. More importantly, if what Jay and she’d begun had lasted, she would find a way to rent the cabin.

  “That isn’t your concern. I’ve been responsible for myself for a long time.”

  When he didn’t reply, she regretted her words. Everything was such a mess between them, much of it her fault. She had to do something to make things better.

  “There’s something you deserve to know,” she said. “The mask is in a storage unit in Forks.”

  His breathing hissed. “It belongs here.”

  Where was here? Someplace she had no right to?

  “I’m going back,” he said. “I don’t want to leave my uncle alone.”

  Don’t cry. “I’m glad you have each other.”

  More silence. More looking at the chasm between them.

  “I don’t want you staying in the cabin,” he said as she got out. “It might not be safe.”

  The Forks police chief had said the same thing. She wished she could discuss the situation with Jay, but that, like everything else between them, had blown up around her. So much boiled down to whether the same person had killed both men, or whether Floyd had taken a knife to her mentor before getting killed himself.

  “I’m not sure where to go,” she admitted with her hand on the truck door and her body angled away from him.

  “A motel.”

  What about the next day and the one after that? “I guess.”

  “Winter, the mask belongs to my people. I want it back.”

  “Your people? What does that make me?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  Don’t look at him. It’s easier that way. “If you’re trying to hurt me, you’re succeeding.”

  “Ask yourself what you want.”

  How could she have believed she had feelings for this man, that they might have connected? “I will. And while I’m doing that, there’s something you need to consider. Maybe Yakanon’s lament wasn’t for Doc or your brother. Maybe he’s mourning an emotional death instead of a physical one.”

  “You’re saying—”

  “Where’s your soul, Jay?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  By the time she reached the cabin, Winter wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have told Jay about the mask. He was a good man, dedicated to his uncle, brother and the forest. Yes, his insistence that she had no right to the mask had hurt, but his brother had just been murdered. His emotions were even more of a mess than hers. Given the state he was in, he might not fully comprehend her connection to the mask.

  She placed the key in the lock then stopped. Two warnings about her safety coming only a few hours apart had made their impact. What if Doc’s killer was inside?

  But why would anyone want her dead? Granted, she had the memory stick, but she didn’t see how anyone knew. Just the same, when she pushed open the door, she stood back and waited for her eyes to adjust before entering. The bed where she and Jay had sex caught her in memories. For too long, she couldn’t turn her attention to the half-open door leading to the bathroom. Finally, desperate to escape images of two naked bodies coming together, she stepped inside and entered the bathroom. Jay had left the shower curtain open. No boogeyman lurked in the tiny space.

  She started to relax, only to realize she was past hungry and on her way to starving. Glad to have something to put her mind on, she started rummaging through the small refrigerator. She’d pulled out cold cuts for a sandwich when her cell phone buzzed.

  Jay?

  It wasn’t his number, and, even though she didn’t recognize it, she said, “Hello.”

  “Where are you?” a semi-familiar male voice asked.

  “Who is this?”

  “Michael Simpson. You gave me your number, remember? Where are you?”

  “In Olympic.” That was as close as she wanted to get to identifying her location.

  “Are you near a TV? Did you read this morning’s paper?”

  TV or a newspaper had been the last things on her mind for days, and she told Michael so, followed by questioning why he’d asked.

  “Dr. Wilheim is all over the news. He’s so damn arrogant saying I, I, I until it makes me sick.”

  “What is he saying?”

  “To hear him talk, you’d assume he’d already been awarded the grant and is at work. He didn’t get the grant, did he?”

  “Not as far as I—no, I’m certain he didn’t. It’s much too soon for any decision to have been made.” And I haven’t formally thrown my hat into the ring.

  “That’s what I thought. Why is he doing this? Could he be trying to convince the grant committee?”

  “That’s possible. He’s never been at a loss for confidence.”

  “That’s the impression I got. I met with him yesterday. Or, rather, I should say he insisted on seeing me. He pressed for information about my relationship with Dr. Gilsdorf.”

  She picked up a slice of ham, put it down. “What
did you tell him?”

  “I did my best to make it clear that it’s essential for whoever does conduct the study to work closely with me so we can develop a coordinated plan designed to financially benefit the park.”

  She’d heard that from Michael before but didn’t say anything.

  “He blew me off,” he added.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you? Dr. Gilsdorf was the same way, just a little more diplomatic than Wilheim is. I don’t get you people. You’re—”

  “You people? You’re lumping me in with Doc and Dr. Wilheim?”

  “I’m talking about academia in general. You might be easier to work with. Maybe we could develop a mutually beneficial relationship. In fact, that’s why I called. I want to talk to you about how you propose to respond to what Dr. Wilheim is doing. I might suggest you use the same media blitz. With your youth, looks and nationality, the public will side with you. I want to give you the names and contact information for the reporters Dr. Wilheim talked to.”

  Now? Her refrigerator door was still open, not that it mattered. “It’s a rough day,” she said. “Jay Raven’s brother has been murdered.”

  The second silence lasted even longer than the first one had. “Do you suspect the killings are connected?”

  “I don’t know.” To hell with weighing every word. If Michael had killed Doc, he needed to comprehend he wouldn’t get away with it. Eventually, law enforcement would catch up to him. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  “It isn’t as if Doc and Floyd weren’t acquainted.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Positive.”

  Michael didn’t stay on the phone long. He immediately changed the subject from the relationship between Doc and Floyd to insisting she write down the numbers he’d called to give her. She deliberately kept her mind blank until she’d finished making her sandwich. Then she started replaying what the park’s budget officer had said. He hadn’t sounded shocked by the news of Floyd’s murder.