White Dragon
Page 12
Sam was aware now that the mountain lion didn't happen upon them. He was stalking them as prey. When Sam first saw him, her initial reaction was one of shock. She couldn't believe how emaciated he appeared. She estimated he was forty to fifty pounds underweight, and had he not been, he'd probably have weighed in at one hundred to one hundred and fifty pounds. She walked over to the carcass and examined it more closely, her original assessment confirmed. The animal had definitely been starving. Sam noticed a band around the lion's neck and a tag attached to it. She cut the band with her pocketknife, then removed the tag and wiped it clean. On the one side were engraved the words Titan, and on the other a marking that resembled a symbol from ancient times. She said nothing. She placed the tag in her pocket and waited until the rescue helicopter arrived.
WHEN HALIE GOT home from the gallery, later than usual, Sam was already making dinner. She stirred mixed vegetables in a saucepan with fresh garlic from the garden and olive oil. A pot of pasta sat boiling on the stove. Sam already fed Jake and set the table. A white linen cloth covered the table, and in the center, a honeycomb candle burned, spreading warm light on the vase of flowers sitting next to it.
"Mmm, that smells good," Halie said, as she walked into the kitchen, Jake prancing by her side. Then she noticed the table setting. "What's going on? Did I miss something? What's the special occasion?" she said. She walked over to Sam, put her arms around her waist and, kissed her on the back of her neck.
Sam cracked a smile. She reached for Halie and held her close. "No special occasion. I wanted to surprise you. I love you."
"I love you too. My mouth is watering. What did you make?"
"A vegetable pasta dish with zucchini, sweet baby peas, cherry tomatoes, corn, and peppers, sautéed in garlic, olive oil, and vegetable broth, and seasoned with a touch of chili pepper. And also I grated a little fresh Pecorino-Romano to sprinkle on top."
"That sounds fantastic. When can we eat?"
"It's ready when you are. I'll pour us some wine."
"Wine, too?" Halie asked. They didn't normally drink wine with dinner during the week. Alcohol was reserved for the weekends and special occasions, like birthdays and holidays.
"I thought it might be nice, that's all. Plus, it goes well with the meal."
"I'm fine with it. I'll cut the bread. How was work today? I saw your note this morning that you took Jake with you. Did someone get lost?"
"Not exactly."
"Tell me about it over dinner, and then I've got news to tell you too." Halie sat at the dinner table, sipped her wine, and waited for Sam to serve the pasta.
With her back to Halie, Sam picked the pot up off the stove and removed the lid. "Jake was in his glory today. You should have seen how proud he was of himself, and rightly so," she said. She set the lid in the sink.
"So you found your missing person?" Halie asked.
"Yes and no. We found her, but she wasn't missing." Sam paused while she transferred a heaping sized serving of pasta onto Halie's plate. "She was hiking with a friend, before dawn, on one of the trails leading up Rendezvous Mountain. She was attacked by a mountain lion and dragged off into the woods."
"Are you serious?"
"Very. The bizarre thing is, something like that happening is so rare. Mountain lions are reclusive. If attacks do happen, it's usually in zoos or wildlife sanctuaries, where the animals are caged and frustrated, not out in the wild. In the wild it might only happen when they get startled or spooked, but I don't think that happened here." Sam set the pan on the stove top and sat to eat.
"What do you think caused it to attack then?" Halie asked. She twirled the steaming, vegetable laden pasta onto her fork.
"I'm not sure. The woman's friend said she was walking in the lead and didn't realize her friend stopped to bend down and tie her laces, and when she turned, she saw the animal pounce and drag her away, all in a matter of seconds."
"I can't even imagine that. Is she going to be okay?" Halie asked, unable to discern the answer from the expression on Sam's face.
"She should be, thank God, but as of now she's in critical condition. She lost a lot of blood. She suffered multiple puncture wounds to her neck, face and skull. Part of her scalp was torn back. She'd clearly put up a struggle when I found her, which probably saved her life."
Halie cringed at the horror as Sam provided details. "I'm so sorry, Sam. That must have been hard to witness." Halie set her fork on the edge of her plate and placed her hand on Sam's to comfort her.
"It was. I can't get the images of her out of my head."
"I think it'll take time, but eventually they'll fade. What were they doing on the mountain that early?"
"I asked myself that same question. The woman's partner, Melanie Gibbs, told me they wanted to watch the sun rise together from the mountaintop. She said they'd done the very same thing twenty years ago on that same mountain, and they wanted to recreate the moment."
"They were partners? That's so romantic," Halie said, having gained insight as to why the candle and flowers were on the table.
"Yeah," Sam said. "I can't imagine being Melanie Gibbs right now, with all the waiting, and not knowing. Last year, when I thought I might lose you, I felt like my whole world was slipping away and I had no control over stopping it. The helplessness was beyond frightening."
Halie stroked the back of Sam's hand with her thumb, her eyes searching out Sam's. "It'll be okay. There's nothing you can do at this point to help them. She's in good hands at the hospital. The doctors and nurses are great. You've given her a second chance and I'm sure she'll fight hard to keep it."
"I think so too." Sam sopped up some of the sauce on her plate with a slice of multi-grain bread. "Anyway, enough about my day, how was yours? You seemed anxious to tell me something earlier."
"You sure? I don't mind talking more about what happed with you today, if it'll help."
"No, I'd rather focus on something else."
"Okay, in that case, I had a couple of weird things happen today. One was not so good, but the other was good. Which do you want to hear first?"
"I'll take the "˜not so good' one first," Sam said.
"Felice Lohan stopped by the gallery today."
"What? What did she want?"
"She said she stopped by to say hello and congratulate me on the gallery, but I didn't get a good feeling about the visit. And after she left, Susan said Brian asked about Felice. He was hanging out in the gallery this morning waiting for his friend to pick him up, when Felice came in. He told Susan he thought he'd seen her that morning at Charlie's, the day Coco was taken."
"At Charlie's? What was Brian doing at Charlie's?"
"That's what I asked her. She said he's been working there a few days a week since the start of summer vacation. She thought she'd told me that already, but she hadn't."
"Well that doesn't sound good at all. If this is Felice's way of cleaning up her act, she's got a warped idea about how to go about doing it. Why would she cause trouble after what she's been through? You'd think she'd want to make up for the time she lost with her son. I mean, who knows how much longer he has," Sam said, her tone laced with concern.
"Felice told me her son's cancer is in remission. I didn't get a bad vibe from her though, and her explanation of why she stopped by seemed feasible. She's teaching a summer class at Ryerson and has a few courses scheduled for the fall. One of her students told her about my gallery. I'm glad the word's getting out about the place," Halie said.
"I told you it would. You're work's fantastic, that's why."
"Thanks for saying so, but I think you're a tad biased--for a good reason though. It might be wise if we kept an eye on Felice. Today's visit doesn't change much in my mind, other than the fact of her being at Charlie's the day Coco was taken. It's not like she did anything to me or threatened us in any way today. In fact, she seemed like she needed a friend, which brings me to my other bit of news." The expression on Halie's face changed from concerned to that of elated.
"Is it okay if I clean up while you tell me about it?" Sam asked.
"Sure, I'll help you," Halie said. She picked up their plates and carried them to the sink. "I saw my oldest and dearest best friend, Ronni Summers, today. She came into the gallery while Felice was there. I couldn't believe it."
Sam took the plates from Halie and began washing them in the sink. "Wow, what a crazy day for you. How long has it been since you've seen her?"
"Let's see, it must be ten or twelve years now. And so you know, Ronni was the first girl I ever kissed."
"Great, just what I needed to hear," Sam said. "You could have kept that piece of information to yourself."
"Oh, stop it. We were innocent kids. It meant nothing. I'm telling you because I don't want any secrets between us. We were both experimenting at the time. I know she cared about me though, because neither one of us ratted the other out. And she easily could have. You know how kids can be at that age. More wine?"
"No, I'm fine. Thanks. So what's she doing here? Does she live here?" Sam asked.
"She's on vacation--rode in with some biker friends. She says she's still living in Kentucky, which is the last place I knew she moved to. I didn't get to talk to her for too long, but she also told me she'd lost her job a couple months ago and hasn't been able to find anything since."
"What did she do for a living before she got laid off?" Sam asked.
"She's an auto mechanic."
"Too bad she doesn't live around here then. Last week when I brought the car in for an oil change, Jimmy said he'd just lost a good mechanic. The guy moved to New Orleans where his wife's family lives. She couldn't stand the cold winters."
"Having survived one winter here myself, I can empathize with her," Halie said, "and I'm used to cold weather. On the other hand, winter is beautiful in other ways too."
"I agree. Jimmy said he's having a hard time finding a descent replacement, which is too bad. Is she planning on staying in the area for a while?"
"I don't know. I only know she said she'd be here for at least a week. I'd like to invite her for dinner one night, if it's okay with you," Halie said.
"Of course it's okay with me. She probably has a few hidden stories she can spill about the two of you growing up. That payback to your Sammy comment and all the stories mom told you about me might be coming sooner than I thought."
"Oh, knock it off," Halie said. "I can assure you, you won't dig up anything juicy on me."
"I'm not so sure about that," Sam said. "The innocent appearing ones are the ones to watch out for." Sam dried her hands on the kitchen towel. "Why don't you see if she can come over on Saturday?"
"Saturday would be perfect. I didn't realize how much I missed having my friends around until I saw her again. We were so close. It's a shame. How many special people do you meet in a lifetime?"
"Not many."
"No, I'd think not. I wish she lived closer. After visiting with Mom and Matt and the kids, it made me miss my family too. I wish they lived closer as well."
"I know. I love it here, but the hardest thing is being away from family. Thank God we have April and Corrine though."
"Yes," Halie said in a pensive manner, "although, no matter how nice they are to me and how much I like them, they still feel more to me like your friends than mine. Oh, well," she said, "that may change in time. It would be nice to have an old friend close that I could reminisce with though, over times when we were little."
"Why don't you try and convince Ronni to stay then? She doesn't have a job binding her at this point. I don't know about her living arrangements or other ties, but you could always ask."
"I could, couldn't I?" Halie said. The furrows above her brow disappeared.
"I think I'll draw a hot bath tonight? Do you want to join me?" Sam said.
"I don't know--maybe--okay, yeah, though I am kind of beat." Halie added the last comment so Sam wouldn't misinterpret her intentions and lead to more than she was willing to give that evening.
"It's only a bath," Sam said. She lowered her head and meandered out of the kitchen.
Chapter Ten
SAM WAITED SEVERAL minutes in the police station before she was allowed into Sheriff John Hastings office. She was too anxious to sit, so she paced in an oval pattern in the lobby until she was escorted in.
Sheriff Hastings stood when Sam entered his office and extended his hand. "Ranger Tyler, it's good to see you again. It's been a while." Hastings was a tall man at six-foot-three and weighed a lean hundred and seventy-five pounds. He was nearing retirement, but projected the energy of a recruit.
Sam shook his hand. "Thanks for seeing me without an appointment."
Hastings motioned Sam to sit, then settled behind his desk. "Anytime, you know that. Luckily it's been a slow week so far. Are you here to get an update on our progress concerning your home vandal and the tire slashing?"
"No, but if you have any information on that front, I'd gladly listen."
"Unfortunately, I don't. We've had a couple of break-ins since then, which are a bit puzzling and unusual. You've probably read about them in the paper."
"I have," Sam said. "The thieves are going in through the roofs and stealing money and jewelry. It doesn't appear there's any connection with what happened to us."
"I agree. They're in and out. They don't leave any notes. In your case, we haven't uncovered any clues of significant value other than the statement Mr. Pipp provided regarding your partner's tire slashing incident, and from the information given, it's likely the vandalism to your home and the tire slashing were two separate incidents."
"Do you find his statement credible?"
"We do. There's no evidence to suggest otherwise. The problem is, unless we're lucky enough to catch these people in the act, or find witnesses who can provide enough information with which to identify them, or they become careless, we may never know who did this."
"I understand, but I was hoping that wouldn't be the case, because whoever's doing this to us has done a number on Halie's emotions. Her whole demeanor's changed. I know you've got plenty of other things on your plate, but if your guys wouldn't mind keeping an extra eye out once in a while, I'd appreciate it," Sam said.
"Don't worry, we definitely will. We haven't let this go yet."
"Great, thanks." Sam wasn't happy he ended his sentence with "˜yet', but under the circumstances, she was glad the police force remained engaged. Redirecting the conversation she said, "The main reason I stopped by is that yesterday a woman was attacked by a mountain lion on Rendezvous Mountain. I had to shoot the animal. He was severely emaciated, and when I went over to inspect him, I noticed he wore a thin collar and this tag." She handed the small metal tag to Hastings. "The tag indicates this was someone's pet, or possession, but there's no address. Any idea what the symbol on the one side might represent?"
Sheriff Hastings studied the object in his hands. "I'll be damned. It couldn't be."
"Couldn't be what?"
"There's a guy who owns Diamond Hilt Antique Dealers on Shunkerton Rd. This same symbol is on the sign at the end of his driveway. The place has a fancy name, but it's a beat up old farmhouse and barn with tons of junk inside and out. The reason I know about him is I have the misfortune of being married to a woman who loves antiques. And I've been there too, but I've never seen any wild animals on the property, so I doubt he would have been able to hide one there without my noticing it."
"Doesn't mean he couldn't hide one though, does it?"
The sheriff paused. "No, it doesn't. The more I think about it, I wouldn't put it past him either. The guy's been in trouble before. We held him here a couple of nights, on separate instances, for drunken disorderliness and he's been in for fighting and other misdemeanors. I'm surprised the business makes him enough money to survive on, to be quite honest, or that he even has customers--he's got a crappy attitude if you ask me. But then again, my wife still shops there and drags me along, so who knows."
"Maybe the business
doesn't make enough money for him to live off of," Sam suggested. "I imagine owning an animal that size would be quite an expense. Maybe he let the mountain lion go because he couldn't afford to keep it."
"Maybe." The sheriff paused again, pushed aside a few papers on his desk, and stood. "All right, you win. Why don't we take a ride over there and see what Mr. Hilt has to say."
HALF AN HOUR later, Sam and Sheriff Hastings were headed down the narrow, bumpy dirt road that led to Diamond Hilt Antique Dealers. With no other cars around, they parked closest to the entrance.
Sam thought Hastings gave a fairly good description of the property, though she couldn't imagine why anyone would buy anything there. Diamond Hilt Antiques struck her as nothing more than a junk yard of rusted and unwanted things. She never saw such a mix of odd items: old bicycles, metal signs, gas pumps, tools, fans, bathtubs, piping, fishing poles, anything and everything. Blue tarps covered several more items and structures farther into the backyard.
They walked up three stairs and onto the wraparound porch before they entered the store. The inside of the store was well kept and items were arranged without appearing overcrowded. The lighting was dim, but a pleasant musk and potpourri of varied spices filled the air.
Joseph Hilt brandished what Sam interpreted as a glint of worry when he initially approached them and then it appeared to her as if he relaxed. His black hair was gray on the edges, but remained darker than his beard. He stood about six-foot, thin build and had small eyes. Sam couldn't make out their color in the dim light. He was dressed neatly, wearing jeans and a gray flannel shirt. He reached out his hand to Hastings. "Sheriff Hastings. I almost didn't recognize you in uniform. Where's the misses, and who's your friend?"