Branded by Lust: 4 (Night Seekers) (5 page)

“Maybe he’s here because of the park ranger,” the other man
interjected. “That right, Logan? The new outfit you work for send you here?”

Although the men sounded slightly hostile, beneath their
tone Rebecca detected a deep nervousness, almost a fear. Something unknown had
invaded their community for the second time in three years and it was apparent
people were on edge. It seemed to Rebecca that everyone in the place knew
Logan. Maybe everyone in the county. He introduced each person who stopped by
but after a while, even with her training, she began to lose track of them.

Some of them only stayed for a moment, greeting Logan,
acknowledging Rebecca—many of them with a curious eye—putting in their two
cents worth then moving on. Others managed to steal a chair from a nearby table
as people emptied out of the place and took the time to express their fear
about the situation.

And every one of them seemed to be singing the same song.
Had Logan seen pictures of the ranger’s body? Did it look like those of Julie
and Wade? Did he have any idea what kind of creature did this? Was he still
convinced it was a beast out of legend that actually was real? And what was he
going to do about it? A lot of them still remembered the other killings and
even seasoned hunters knew whatever had killed the ranger wasn’t anything
they’d had contact with before.

Rebecca ate her sandwich and listened, assessing the tenor
of the conversations and the mood of the community. Logan was right. Just like
The Crown, if you wanted to learn anything, this was the place to come. By the
time they made their way out of the Big Horn—with Moose refusing to give them a
bill for their lunch—her head was spinning.

“If everyone in this town thinks the Chupacabra might be
real and wants you to follow up on it, why doesn’t the sheriff take the hint?”

Logan cranked over the ignition on the truck and adjusted
the heater. “Rance Danvers is an old-line, old-time sheriff. He’s been around
for a lot of years. Like I told you, he was senior deputy when I left and
moving him into the spot was the easiest thing for the commission to do.”

“But doesn’t he have to stand for election?” Rebecca asked.
“That’s the way it usually works.”

“I think the county commission doesn’t seem to be inclined
to move him out. And truthfully, except for the Chupacabra killings, there’s
not a whole lot of crime in the county. But he’s stuck on his theories.
Period.” He pulled out onto the highway. “I usually had to work around him.”

She glanced at him with curiosity. “Do you ever regret
leaving? Or think about coming back?”

“No. I miss the ranch and I get back here when I can. When
my brother and sister-in-law were killed, finding that beast became the total
focus of my life. That’s why I jumped at Craig’s offer. There are a lot of
bright, knowledgeable men on the staff who could easily take Danvers’ place if
the commission would get off its duff and quit coddling him.”

“Do you think people will put pressure on him with this new
kill?”

“I don’t know.” Logan shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out soon
enough. I just hope we can track this thing, with or without Danvers, before it
hits kills two and three.”

Rebecca couldn’t control a slight shiver. “The photos of the
park ranger’s body were just as gruesome as all the others we’ve seen. Don’t
you think if you showed the sheriff the other photos he’d see the similarity
and change his opinion?”

“Honestly?” Logan wheeled around a corner and pulled into a
parking lot in front of a square building. “I think he might actually be afraid
to take a good look at this. It’s a lot safer if you don’t operate out of your
comfort zone. You don’t have to look for answers you don’t have. Okay, we’re
here. Let’s go see what kind of reception we get.”

This is like old home week
, Logan thought when they
walked in. Almost.

At first everyone stared, obviously stunned by his
appearance. Then Doug Hayward—part of the detective division and dressed in his
usual jeans and a blazer—cracked a smile, came forward and held out his hand.

“Damn!” he said. “I thought we’d seen the last of your ugly
face around here.”

Logan laughed, relieved at the reception he was getting.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He shook hands with everyone and introduced Rebecca, aware
that they all looked at her with more than passing curiosity. Even though he
was emphatic about identifying her as a team member and his partner, he could
still see speculation in some eyes. He wondered if he was being quite as good
at concealing his feelings as he thought.

“Rance around?” he asked finally.

“In his office,” Doug said. “Just knock on the door. He
doesn’t have anyone with him.”

“Come in,” a familiar raspy voice called at the tap on the
wood.

Logan opened the door and the man behind the desk looked up,
startled.

“Logan? Logan Tanner?”

Rance Danvers was as lean and wiry as ever. Well past sixty,
he was still in fit condition, his gray hair cropped short, his skin leathery
and tanned by the sun. While many of the deputies wore jeans with their uniform
shirts, Rance was always in full khakis, clean and crisply pressed. A sign of
his office, Logan thought.

The man’s smile when he held out his hand was somewhat
strained.

“Nice to see you again, Logan. I heard you might be in
town.” His handshake was just as firm as ever.

“News travels fast, since we just arrived last night.”

“When I heard Ford Randolph had requested copies of
everything I figured they were for you. Especially since his sister is married
to Greg Mattison. Sit, please.” He indicated the two chairs in front of his
desk.

Logan took one of the chairs and indicated Rebecca should
take the other. “This is Rebecca Black. We work together.”

“For that fancy new outfit you joined?” Danvers asked. His
face was a careful mask but there was just the slightest bitter edge to his
voice.

Logan chose to ignore it. “Yes, we’re both on the same
team.”

“And I suppose you want to stick your nose into the park
ranger’s death.” Danvers shook his head. “That was a sad and unfortunate
situation but nothing for you to worry about. He was killed by a wild animal.
Coyote or bear. Maybe even a wolverine.” He looked from one of them to the
other. “That’s all it is.”

Rebecca sat silently, obviously letting Logan take the lead.

“Rance.” Logan shifted in his chair, resting one booted foot
on the opposite knee. “I’ve seen coyote and wolverine kills. So have you. They
don’t look anything like this and I think you know that. They devour the entire
prey, leaving nothing behind. Not even bones.”

“Not always,” the sheriff said stubbornly. “They’re vicious
little animals. They’ve even been known to kill a moose.”

Logan dropped his foot and leaned forward. He was getting
tired of running into the same wall of stubbornness everywhere Night Seekers
went. Wouldn’t people ever learn?

“Rance.” He forced patience into his voice. “The ranger was
killed in a specific way. So was the sheep. The bodies looked exactly like Wade’s
and Julie’s two years ago and like all the other bodies we’ve seen since then.”

“Other bodies?” Danvers frowned. “What other bodies? What do
you mean?”

“The group I work for has one focus—tracking this creature
you don’t want to think exists. We’ve found kills in Texas, Alabama, Maine. I
could maybe agree that there’d be a rare wolverine in Maine but certainly not
south of the Mason-Dixon line. And Rance? Every single body looked exactly the
same. Besides, I understand there were no tracks at the scene except for the
ranger and his vehicle. Any wild creature you’re used to would leave some kind
of track.”

Next to him Rebecca cleared her throat. “We brought pictures
of the other kills with us. The three cases we’ve worked so far plus anything
we’ve been able to pull off the internet. If you’d just let us show them to you…”

The sheriff’s jaw clenched. “I know you believe what you’re
telling me, Miss, uh…”

“Black. Rebecca Black. And I’ve been a trained investigator
for seven years. I saw the kills in Maine firsthand. We aren’t wrong, Sheriff
Danvers.”

“What can it hurt for you to at least take a look?” Logan
asked. He was really getting tired of this.

Danvers sat in silence for a long moment. Finally he gave a
brief nod of his head.

“Have you got them with you?”

“Yes,” Rebecca said. “We do.”

“I’ll get them from the truck,” Logan told her and rose from
his chair.

“If Doug Hayward’s still out there,” Danvers said, “tell him
to come on in.” Then his mouth lifted in a half-grin. “And you might as well
include Ford Randolph too. If he knows we’re doing this he’ll just bull his way
in anyway.”

The small office was crowded with five people in it but
Danvers was adamant about not moving into the conference room.

“Too many possible spectators,” he said.

So he moved everything off his desk, giving Logan and Rebecca
room to lay out the photos from all the kill scenes the Night Seekers had been
involved with. The bodies themselves were gruesome enough but when Rebecca
placed the shots of the creatures they’d killed—three different ones—even the
sheriff was taken aback.

“What the hell is that?” he asked in a strangled voice.

“That,” Logan told him, “is the Chupacabra. At least one of
them.”

“Holy shit.” Ford Randolph gave a tuneless whistle. “No
wonder you call it the devil beast.” He looked at Logan. “Is that the thing
that killed Julie and Wade?”

“The only proof we have now is to compare the pictures of
their bodies,” Rebecca told him. “It’s been more than two years. Evidence gets
lost and without being prepared for it there was no way to trap the beast.”

Danvers cleared his throat. “You can’t fault me for that,
Logan. This is the kind of farfetched nightmare no one expects and has a hard
time believing when they hear about it.”

Logan brushed at the air with his hand. “I think we’re long
past that, Rance. What we have to concentrate on now is trapping and killing
this thing.”

Matt frowned. “But if you’ve killed it three times before,
how does it keep reappearing? Is it some kind of supernatural voodoo?”

Logan looked at Rebecca then back at the others. “Night
Seekers, the organization I’m with, has access to specialized labs and
scientists who have been dissecting the bodies.” He cleared his throat. “We
think someone is actually breeding these devil beasts and letting them loose.
That’s the only explanation for them showing up in so many places so far
apart.”

“And why we think they repeat killing scenes,” Rebecca
added. “The case we just worked in Maine was the second in two years there,
just like it is here. Whoever is breeding them is somehow programming them and
letting them loose in what they consider optimum killing fields.”

Logan saw the color leach from the sheriff’s face and the
heightening of tension in the room was a palpable thing.

“Are you shitting me? Breeding them?”

Logan nodded and swallowed against the bile rising in his
throat. “We suspect they’re trying to introduce human DNA into the mix too.”

“Holy fuck!” Doug said. “What gave you that idea?”

Rebecca answered him. “Chloe Guitron, the wife of one of the
team members, was photographing scenes for a book with a friend of hers in
Zapata County in Texas when the killings occurred there. Her friend disappeared
without any trace at all. We think either the devil beast, in some form, or one
of its human handlers got her. That she’s a prisoner wherever their lab is.”

Logan looked around the small room, noting the sick
expressions on everyone’s faces. “That’s why the man who funded Night Seekers
is putting a great deal of money behind this. To capture and kill as many of
the creatures as we can, hopefully before they complete each killing spree. And
then find the secret lab.”

“They seem to be programmed for a killing pattern,” Rebecca
continued. “First of all, they focus mostly on humans, using small animals as
victims only to feed their hunger between kills. In the legends we’ve read
humans weren’t the primary focus. And we’ve learned from those cases they
always kill in threes. Or try to. And they seek prey in isolated situations.
Houses way on the outskirts of town. Or as here and in Maine, isolated in the
middle of hundreds of acres, but still within a certain range.”

A heavy silence hung in the room.

“You have to admit,” Danvers said at last, “this sounded
farfetched as hell when you brought it up to me two years ago, Logan.”

“I understand. But I also had a gut feeling it wasn’t a
killing by any wild animal we’re used to so I started doing research on the internet.”

The sheriff looked at his detective and his deputy. “Not a
word of this outside this office. We don’t need to spook the county and send
people off doing things half-cocked that could get them killed.”

“Agreed.” Doug nodded.

“We do need to make a plan,” Logan reminded him. “And we
probably don’t have a lot of time.”

“Are you good with us meeting at your house?” Danvers asked.
“If we do it here someone’s sure to get curious and I don’t want anything about
this leaking out until we’ve got some kind of handle on it.”

Logan nodded. “Of course. But first I’d like to take a look
at the body, if it’s still here.”

“It is. His sister and his parents arrived last night and
we’re still trying to figure out how to present the body for viewing. I’ve got
him on ice at Drake’s Funeral Home. I’ll call over there and tell them it’s okay
for you to take a look.”

In many Montana counties it was common for the sheriff to
also be elected the coroner, a dual position with double headaches. Mostly the
crime rate was so low it didn’t matter. Once in a while something would
necessitate a call to the State Division of Investigation, which had a regional
office in Kalispell.