Midnight Prey

by Caroline Burnes

  “Don’t count your chickens, Emrich. I’m sending you to Washington. Pronto. We have enough trouble with the locals without you violating express orders not to trespass on private property. You can cool your heels up on the Hill. I don’t need a troublemaker on this job, and I won’t have one.” Code’s voice was level, without any inflection of anger.

  Hank listened to him with his temper growing. Code had thought it all out, had figured the best way to get at Hank. Sending him away while Thor was on the loose was the worst thing he could do. And he had decided to do it. There were a million things he wanted to say to Code, but he kept his lips firmly pressed together. He’d been known to dig his own grave with his big mouth. He was in deep enough already.

  “Have your things packed at dawn. I’ll have Cal take you in to the local airport. I want you out of here. Yesterday.” Harry stood up. “You’re dismissed.”

  There had not been a single opportunity for Hank to defend himself, and even if there had been, it wouldn’t have done any good. Harry Code hated him. Had for years. It had amazed Hank that Code had agreed to let him oversee the release. And now Hank had put himself in a position where Harry could act against him.

  Stepping from the tent into the night air, Hank knew there was no one to blame for his situation other than himself. Shadoe had twice warned him off her property. He’d gone back for the third time. Because he had to ask her about the wolf. And…He forced himself to confront the truth. And because he wanted to see her. When she’d pulled up with that cowboy, he’d been angry. Mad at her for riding home with another man. He’d let his personal life get twisted up with the wolves, and the result was the mess he now found himself in.

  Hank’s tent was solo, modest and set back from the others, and he went inside and quickly began to stow his gear in a backpack. When he had his few clothes packed, he discovered that his.38 was missing. Thinking he was mistaken, he searched the entire tent. To his fury, the gun was gone, as was the pump action rifle he used when he was on guard duty. It was obvious that Code had ordered one of the other agents to confiscate his guns, even though the pistol was a personal weapon and was not service issue. Harry Code didn’t have the backbone to pull Hank’s badge, but he would sneak into his tent and steal his weapons. Or order one of his minions to do it.

  Hank felt the scabbard on his belt where he kept his hunting knife, wondering again who had taken his pocketknife and how they’d gotten it. It had disappeared the night Cal’s brakes had been tampered with. And reappeared at Shadoe’s. More than strange. Almost too coincidental to be anything other than deliberate. As if he were being set up. And Shadoe was somehow involved. He felt the loss of his guns more keenly.

  He’d become more and more reliant on the guns in his work, but there had been a time when he’d been able to protect himself with the knife. Jimmy Deerman had taught him how to use the blade like a warrior. Hank pulled the bone-handled knife from the scabbard. The blade caught the light of the candle in the tent, and for a split second, Hank felt all of the anger and frustration of the past few days disappear. He could hear Jimmy’s voice talking about the ways of the warrior. “A man does not act in haste or emotion. Even vengeance is done with honor and deliberation. The knife is an honorable death, for animal or man. It is a death met hand-to-hand, face-to-face.”

  Hank put the knife back in the scabbard and hefted his backpack. He wasn’t going back to Washington. Not on a bet. He had captured the wolves and brought them out of their native land to a place where all the odds were against them. This was his project, not Code’s. Harry didn’t care two figs for the wolves or what happened to them as long as it didn’t turn out to be a public relations problem. In fact, Hank wouldn’t be surprised if his boss turned them all over to the ranchers for execution if it was the more expedient thing to do.

  Peering out through the tent opening, he made sure that the agent on guard duty was nowhere in sight. He stepped into the night, moving away from the trail toward the deep woods. He was going after Thor. And if he couldn’t capture him, then he would kill him. Face-to-face. An honorable death, not trapped or poisoned. In the spirit world, Jimmy Deerman would hold Hank responsible for such a thing.

  There was also the possibility that Thor would kill him. Hank was not fool enough to discount that outcome, and he accepted it fully as he sought the shelter of the forest.

  SHADOE STARED into the plate of over-easy eggs and bacon and knew she couldn’t eat a bite.

  “You had to do it,” Jill said as she ate. “And you have to eat. There’s no point sitting at the table, moping around because you made Hank stop harassing you. I mean just because he has a badge doesn’t mean he has a right to jump out of the bushes and terrorize you.” Jill’s voice became more agitated. “If John had seen him up there, manhandling you, he would have beat the smithereens out of him, and it might be just what Hank needs. He’s changed, Shadoe. There’s something dark about him now, like all of this rage is bottled up inside and ready to explode.”

  “He didn’t manhandle me.” Shadoe shook her head. “He made me mad, and I shouldn’t have insisted that Billy report him.”

  “You’re worried about his career?” Jill was incredulous. “He trespasses and virtually threatens you, not to mention the fact that he was the guy who targeted this neck of the woods for those damn wolves, and you’re concerned that when he stepped out of line he might be punished for it? You are too much. You’re still carrying a torch for the guy.” Jill stood up and went to the counter for the coffeepot.

  “That’s not it.” Shadoe felt the pressure of tears at her eyes and didn’t understand why she was suddenly so weepy. “Hank lost Copperwood because of me and my family, Jill. I didn’t know that when I left to go to college. Mother didn’t tell me a thing, and naturally Hank was too proud to explain the situation. Now, because of me, his job is threatened. There’s a pattern here, and I don’t like my involvement in it.”

  “Hey, news flash, Shadoe. No one held a gun to his head and made him buy those cattle. That’s the way the ranching business goes. I could lose my shirt any season, and with those wolves around I well may lose the Bar Three. As far as last night, Hank acted on his own. He ambushed you in your own yard. He’s responsible for his own actions. You can’t take on that burden of guilt. If he’d been doing what he was supposed to be doing, he wouldn’t be in trouble now—if he even got reprimanded. We don’t know for certain that he was even called on the carpet. Knowing those guys, they probably gave him a promotion.”

  Shadoe pushed her plate away. “Well, that’s one thing I can check. I’m going up there, and I’m going to talk to Hank. We need to settle some things between us that are twenty years too long in the making.”

  Jill’s brows drew together in a frown. “Don’t give them a reason to arrest you. You’re the most potent weapon the ranchers have, Shadoe. You’re a great spokesperson, and if they could trump up some charges against you, it would damage our case.”

  “I only want to talk to Hank.”

  Jill saw the determination on her friend’s face. “Want me to go with you?”

  The offer was tempting, but Shadoe shook her head. “No, this is something I really need to do alone.” Together they walked out to climb into Jill’s truck.

  Jill dropped her at her truck, which she’d left at Hoss’s house the night before. She tried not to think as she headed north, toward the range of mountains, which had once seemed like paradise.

  The passing scenery was so familiar, and Shadoe felt overwhelmed by memories. This was the land of her father, and the pain that it evoked was one reason she had fled Montana. Jimmy Deerman’s laugh was present in the call of a hawk that swooped out of the sky and dove into the forest. His gentle touch was on the breeze that came in through the open truck window and filled the cab with the promise of summer.

  Shadoe considered the possibility that she’d been mistaken in coming back to the range. She had thought she was tougher, better able to handle the losses. Maybe
she was wrong. Or maybe it was the fact that she was driving to see Hank Emrich that made her doubt herself and all of her decisions. He and her father were irrevocably twined in her mind. When her father had died, she’d run away from Hank. She’d fled from everything that reminded her of Jimmy and how much it hurt to let him go. She had done what she had to do to survive, but it hadn’t been a courageous path.

  Her father would have been disappointed in her, as she was disillusioned with herself.

  She accepted that judgment and focused her eyes on the winding road. That was what she had to tell Hank. Maybe once she settled this between them, they could both go on with their business. They were on opposite sides, but they did not have to be bitter enemies.

  With that determination, Shadoe felt as if a large boulder had been lifted from her shoulders. For the first time since Hank had arrived, Shadoe felt a real anticipation to see him. She urged the truck faster and took in the beauty of Stag’s Horn as she drew closer and closer to it.

  She left the truck beside the road, just where she and Jill had parked once before. Starting up the steep, narrow trail, she expected Hank to hail her, to stop her once again before she got too close to the wolves.

  But the trail was empty of all humans. A few chipmunks scampered among the trees, and birds rustled in the leaves and tiny branches. Shadoe climbed the steep trail with brisk efficiency. The climb made her warm and she removed her light jacket, tying the arms around her waist.

  The chatter of the birds and chipmunks suddenly ceased, and she felt her scalp prickle with a strange foreboding of danger. She halted, then slowly began to turn.

  The wolf was only twenty feet behind her. He was bigger than she’d ever expected, and he’d apparently been following her for a little ways. His golden eyes held her gaze, his pink tongue hung between white teeth that marked him as young and capable of a quick kill.

  Shadoe thought her heart had stopped. For what seemed like an eternity she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel the beat of her own heart. There was only a ringing in her ears that filled the woods with complete silence. That and the wolf.

  She saw him in exact detail. His silver-gray pelt was beautiful, thick and full. He was lean, but not starving, and he seemed in perfect health. He watched her without a shred of fear, as if he knew he were the lord and she merely a human.

  For a single instant, Shadoe recognized his power and his beauty, and then the blood rushed into her heart and she felt her muscles spasm with fear.

  Slowly the wolf turned and disappeared into the forest. In three seconds he was gone, absorbed by the deep shadows and thick trees.

  She stood perfectly still, waiting for her heart to calm. If she tried to take a step she’d fall flat on her face. Looking. at the trail where the wolf had stood, Shadoe thought perhaps she’d hallucinated the wolf. He had been so.conscious of her. As if he’d sought her out to pay her a visit.

  Her father had taught her that there was a balance between animal and man, and that as long as man did not ruin the balance with overpopulation, there was a bond with nature. He also believed that some rare animals could transcend their nature and make contact with another species. It was almost as if the wolf.

  “No…” Shadoe spoke aloud and felt her knees weaken. She sat down on the path and put her head in her hands. “No, that isn’t possible.” She was acting like a crazy woman, buying into a bunch of superstitions and foolishness her father had entertained her with beside the campfire late at night.

  Jimmy had taught her respect for the old ways, for the traditions of his people. He had shown her, and then allowed her to pick her own path.

  She stood up abruptly and went to the place where the wolf had stood. It was possible that she had imagined the whole thing. The business with Hank had brought her father too close to her mind, and her heart, and the result had been a vivid moment of imagination. She bent to the rocky ground, satisfied that she would find no evidence of the wolf. As she hunted, her certainty grew. She had tricked herself, a matter of her emotions taking control of her mind.

  She was about to give up when she found the print. It was almost as big as her hand. Four large toe pads and a central, triangular footpad. The marks of the nails were deep, strong, a clear indication of the weight of the animal.

  Shadoe touched the print and felt for a moment the lingering presence of the animal. There was no doubt the wolf had been there.

  She stood up, disorientated and suddenly afraid. Above her a hungry crow cawed and fussed. She looked up at the bird and watched it wheel in the blue sky, giving her another little jolt of vertigo. Stumbling over to a tree, she had just placed her hand on the bark when the shot ripped through the silence of the woods and the tree beside her head exploded.

  Shadoe dropped to the ground and rolled instinctively. She took refuge behind a large rock.

  “There he goes!” A man’s voice cried and there was the sound of another shot.

  “Damn! You missed.” A second male voice spoke.

  There was the sound of shells being reloaded. “Don’t worry, we’ll get him. We have to before he makes trouble.”

  Shadoe felt a moment’s relief that the men had not actually been shooting at her, but that comfort disappeared when she realized they were after the wolf. They intended to shoot him down.

  “Hey!” she called out loudly. “Hey!” She stood up, looking north, toward the direction the shots had come from.

  “What the hell?” One of the men pointed at her and they both took off running in the opposite direction.

  Without a second thought, Shadoe gave pursuit. Why were the federal agents running away from her? As the answer came to her, her feet slowed. The men weren’t federal agents. They were locals who’d come out to hunt the wolf and kill it. She saw a flash of one as he jumped behind a tree. She stopped and let them go.

  The silence of the forest settled around her, along with a sense of hopelessness. Her encounter with the wolf had done something, changed her somehow. To the point that she had stepped forward to try to protect him. She smiled grimly to herself as she set her feet back on the path to the camp. Wouldn’t Hank Emrich get a big charge out of that little scene? After moaning and groaning about the wolves, she’d actually tried to defend one. Well, she had no intention of reporting the two hunters. The wolf had escaped them, and if they were foolish enough to return so close to the camp of the federal agents, then they’d surely be caught swiftly enough. In fact, she was surprised the area wasn’t already swarming with agents at the sound of the gun.

  It was close to noon when she walked into the camp, so she didn’t find it unusual that there was no sign of life around the tents. The platform that had been erected for the press conference was still there, the flowers dead from lack of water. She glanced around, looking for what might be a mess tent.

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  The voice came to her, clearly irritated.

  There was a mumble of other talk, and then the same voice. “Hank’s a big boy. He knows the rules. I have full confidence in him.”

  Shadoe walked toward the largest tent where the voices came from and hesitated just at the open flap. There was nothing to knock on, so she stepped inside.

  She was greeted by the surprised faces of at least fifteen men. She searched them each carefully, one by one. “I’m looking for Hank Emrich,” she said to the man she recognized as Hank’s boss, the man she’d faced off against at the press conference.

  “Well, well, isn’t that amusing. So are we.” Harry Code’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I doubt it’s for the same reason, though. Hank appears to be missing.”

  Shadoe knew instantly that Harry Code hated Hank. Instinctively she bristled. “First you lose one of the wolves, now you’ve lost one of your agents. This is a real bang-up operation, isn’t it?”

  Her fiery retort took Harry aback. He gave her a longer look, assessing the intelligence he saw in her face. “Ms. Deerman, the spokesperson for the ranchers, is
n’t it?”

  “I’m Shadoe Deerman. I’m looking for Hank.”

  “Unfortunately, Hank is no longer with us.” Harry waved the men out of the tent. He ignored Shadoe for a moment as he gave them their orders. “He’s on foot. He couldn’t possibly have gotten far, but remember, he knows this area like the back of his hand.”

  “I’m sure Hank has gone on to Washington.” A cleancut agent held his ground, refusing to be put out of the tent. “Hank would not disobey a direct order. He knows the consequences. You’re making a big deal out of this, Harry, and there’s no need to send out a search party for him.”

  Shadoe watched the scene unfold with amazement. “What’s happened to Hank?” She shifted the question from Harry Code to the other man, who seemed more concerned about Hank’s well-being.

  “He’s left the camp—”

  “He took off last night because he knew I’d reported him and he was going back to Washington for discipline. He ran.” Harry plowed over Cal Oberton’s statement.

  Shadoe looked at the angry Harry Code. What had Hank ever done to earn this man’s total dislike? She’d sensed the conflict between them at the press conference, but this was outright hatred. She addressed her next question to the other man. “Hank isn’t here?”

  “No.” Cal took her arm. “I think it would be better, Ms. Deerman, if you left the premises.” Before she could resist, he propelled her out of the tent. “Come on,” he whispered in her ear, directing her back toward the path she’d come up.

  When they were a safe distance from the camp, he pointed to a rock for her to take a seat. Shadoe had a million questions, but she kept them all to herself and watched the man who stood beside her. He was about Hank’s age, of slighter build. His blue eyes were worried, and his face was pulled into a frown as he swung his gaze to her.

  “How did you know my name?” she asked.

  “Hank’s talked about you a great deal.” Cal’s expression grew rueful. “I was beginning to think you were something he’d dreamed up. I mean, he never even mentioned another woman’s name.”