Wolfwraith (18 page)

“Who the hell is it?” she demanded. “What do you want? And turn off that fucking light!”

Shadow meekly complied and the girl and the tent vanished into darkness. “Uh...it’s me. Ranger Fletcher. I thought maybe there was a problem. Uh, I heard noises.”

“Oh, is that it?” To Shadow’s surprise, Billie laughed. “Is this how you get your kicks, ranger? Sneaking around girls’ tents in the night?”

“Uh, no. Of course not! I was just checking the meadow to make sure you were doing all right.”

“Well, we’re ‘doing
’
just fine. At least we were until you put a spotlight on the activities.”

Another voice came from the tent. “Billie, let me out, dammit.”

Billie’s head slipped back into the tent and then the zipper was pulled down from inside. As Shadow’s eyes began to adjust, Marlene crawled awkwardly through the opening. She wore shorts and a shirt with the buttons undone, revealing quite a bit of her small, firm breasts in the faint illumination. She stood up to face Shadow.

“Jesus, man, what do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

Shadow tried to keep his eyes on her face. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said, feeling his ears on fire. “I heard noises coming from the tent and thought someone was attacking you. Hell, I was only patrolling the campsites, I swear. I was...” He realized he was babbling and lamely ended with, “Someone was killed near here lately, you know.”

Marlene put her face close to his and scrutinized him closely in the faint illumination from the stars. “Are you for real?” she asked. “You thought Billie was in trouble? Or me?”

“Well...uh...yeah. I did. Look, I’m sorry. I...”

Marlene grabbed him around the waist, turned her face up and kissed his lips. “Thanks, mister. You’re a dear. I believe you. If you were getting your jollies, you sure as hell wouldn’t have turned your flashlight on and played cop.”

“You...you believe me?” He tasted wine on her breath.

She still hugged him. “Yes. Now go away. And do me a favor?”

“Uh...sure. What?” Her shirt had fallen open and he was having trouble thinking with two firm, naked breasts pushing against his chest.

“Put your gun away.” She let go and stepped away, not bothering to pull her shirt together.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry.” Shadow had completely forgotten he held the pistol. He shoved it back into its holster, trying not to stare.

“It’s okay,” Marlene said. “Just let us know you’re around next time. Now, go away.”

Billie poked her head through the tent flap again. “He could stay, Markie. I wouldn’t mind.”

Who was Markie? Oh, shit, Marlene was Markie. Of course! “N…no, that’s okay!” he said. “I have to finish my patrol.”

Marlene smiled. “You do that,” she said. “We’ll feel safer with you around.”

Shadow backed up and then turned and shuffled away across the meadow. He wasn’t sure, but thought he saw the silhouettes of the Goth teenagers sitting under the tree, watching as he went by. No one showed in campsite eleven, at least. Shadow was embarrassed enough, as it was.

He walked back up the road until he reached his truck and slid into the driver’s seat. Sitting there for several minutes, he chastised himself for his naiveté. How could he have not realized Marlene and Billie were lovers? He’d never been so embarrassed in his life!

Finally, he started the engine and turned the truck around. Slowly, using only the parking lights, he drove back down the road. He angled to the right, past Jenny’s small cottage, absentmindedly noticing a light on inside. Unusual for her to be up so late, she was a morning person

Seconds later, he slid to a halt in front of his residence. Opening the truck door, he got out, slamming the door shut behind him. He slammed the house’s door next, as he stalked into the kitchen. Crap! How stupid could one man be?

Though he couldn’t believe the girls would ever say anything, what if one of the nearby campers reported what had happened to Alex or called the state park office in Richmond, the state capital? Would Barnett have him sacked? No one in the park service knew about the allegations his wife had made during the custody hearings, he was sure. Otherwise, he’d never have gotten this job.

He showered the smell of insect repellant from his body, and then climbed into bed. Even though he was worried, he couldn’t rid himself of the memory of the musky, female taste of those soft lips against his and a bare female bosom against his chest.

The variations of human sexuality were beyond his understanding. If Marlene, or Markie, and Billie were lesbian lovers, why had Marlene kissed him? Why had Billie invited him to stay? He’d heard some people went both ways; was that it?

He fell into troubled dreams. He was kissing and fondling a beautiful woman when she suddenly turned into his daughter, Ashley. “Get your hands off me,” she screamed. “You’re my Daddy!”

Chapter Twelve

He’s really dead?

Shadow blearily peered at the clock. One twenty a.m. Drenched in sweat. Less than two hours sleep. He pulled the stifling sheet off and got up. Shuffling to the window air conditioner, he turned it on and then closed the other window.

Since it would take a while for the room to cool down, he stepped out onto his small porch, dressed in only his boxers. The temperature was no better outside; there wasn’t much breeze, and mosquitoes began to gather, apparently drawn by his sweat. He retreated inside and got a drink of cold water from the fridge. Although he’d quit smoking several years before, he wished for a cigarette. Finally, he went to the bathroom and rummaged around in the medicine cabinet for a bottle of sleeping pills the marriage counselor had suggested, back during the divorce. When the doctor had given him the medicine, Shadow had meant never to use it but now he needed to relax.

He’d managed to suppress the memory of his wife’s accusation of fondling his daughter, but his recent experiences had brought sex to the forefront of his mind. Of course he hadn’t touched Ashley inappropriately but why had Ashley said he had? Sure, he’d pick her up and swing her now and then or tickle her for a moment, but she was only twelve and he had never felt anything but a father’s love for her. Why had she betrayed him? Had her mother brainwashed her into it?

He washed down one of the pills and went back to bed.

* * * *

The next thing he knew, someone was shaking him. “Shadow! Wake up, Shadow!”

He opened his eyes to see Alex bending over him. “Hey, what’s up?” he said groggily. Vaguely, he wondered why Alex hadn’t knocked.

“Get up! Something horrible has happened.”

“Wha...? Wait a minute.” Shadow sat up and shook his head. “Sorry. I took—I took something to get to sleep. Give me a moment.”

“We don’t have a moment, damn it! Listen, did you hear anything in the night? Any fighting or yelling maybe?”

“No. Why?”

“Jenny Ostrowski was killed. It looks like Jonesy tried to help her. He’s dead, too.”

“Jesus Christ! How? What happened?” Shadow shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

“We’re not sure,” Alex said. “Steve Slocum found them this morning. Jenny was supposed to be at the E.E.C. to meet her tour group at six a.m., but she didn’t show. They called Steve, since he had duty. He found Jenny in her front yard, with her throat ripped out. Jonesy was around the side of her house; maybe he was running to help her and somebody jumped him.”

“Jumped him? Damn, Alex, Jonesy’s strong as an ox.” He lurched clumsily out of bed and slid the claw onto his wrist.

“Well, it didn’t do him much good.”

“You’re sure he’s dead?”

“He’s dead. And he’s all torn up, like he made a fight of it.”

As Shadow pulled his uniform on, he could hear a siren in the distance, something he had never heard in the park. In moments, he and Alex were running toward Jenny’s residence, a couple of hundred yards away.

Mark Wilson and Steve Slocum, both pale in the face, stood in the road by the house, watching their approach. Shadow could see Jenny, in her uniform, lying in the small yard where he had talked to her yesterday evening. She was on her back, a cloud of small insects fluttering around the gaping wound below her chin. A small dark stain soaked the sand beneath her neck. Looking farther up the yard, he saw a pair of men’s shoes poking around the far corner of the house. Jonesy! Shadow started to walk into the yard, but Alex stopped him.

“Don’t go up there,” he cautioned. “Steve checked and they’re both gone, without a doubt. I don’t want anything disturbed further until the police get here.”

“Goddamnit, man, Jonesy was my friend. Let me go see him.”

“No. This is our best chance to nail whoever’s doing this and I don’t want it screwed up, Shadow.”

“What can I do?”

“Come over here,” Alex called to Slocum, who walked over to join them. “You two make sure all the campers are okay,” Alex said. “Steve, you take the campsites up by Barbour Hill; Shadow, you take seven through twelve. If everyone’s okay, gather the campers together in the False Cape Meadow and at the contact station. Stay with them until the police can question them. I’ll arrange for them and their gear to be bused out later.”

They could hear sirens in the distance as Alex turned to Mark Wilson. “Radio the refuge and ask them to post a warden at the head of the interior road—and the beach—so nobody can leave the cape without us knowing.”

“What about the group in the E.E.C.?” Mark asked.

“Same thing. You go over and tell them to stay in the building until someone comes for them. Anything else?”

When no one spoke, he continued. “Okay, people, move! We don’t know if those campers are in danger and there’s no time to waste. Shadow, don’t go back for your vehicle. Take mine. It’s right here.” He tossed Shadow a set of keys.

In moments, Shadow was roaring up the road behind Steve Slocum’s truck. He felt numb, only able to act because Alex had ordered him to. How could two people he had seen yesterday be dead so suddenly? He almost expected Jonesy to call on the radio and say it had been a joke.

Maybe if he ate something, it would clear his head. He fished a hard candy from a pocket, ripped it open and bit off the end. It didn’t taste right. The sweetness felt all wrong against the foul taste from the medicine he’d taken. Rolling down the window, he spat the mouthful out and tossed the remainder onto the floorboard.

It took only a couple of minutes to reach False Cape at high speed, and he slowed long enough to look into the meadow. Only two tents were there now; campsite eleven was empty. Nothing seemed amiss, though.

Turning right, he eased over the dunes and onto the beach, where several boy-scout leaders and their couple of dozen charges sat about, eating breakfast. He pulled up, got out of the truck, and asked for the leader of the campers in what he hoped was a casual manner. He didn’t want to start a panic. When he found the man in charge, he quietly told him the park had been closed and to have his boys strike their tents and muster at the meadow shelter. He gave no details, but warned the scoutmaster to keep a close eye on the boys.

Then he drove to the meadow. The kids in campsite ten were making breakfast. He ordered them to pack their gear, ignoring their protests. Then, dreading what was to come, he walked over and hailed the tent containing the two girls.

To his surprise, neither of the bleary-eyed girls teased him or even mentioned the previous night’s events. They seemed hung over, matching Shadow’s torpor. All three of them were hesitant, like a couple who has spent the night together for the first time and awakened to a new personal relationship.

Soon all the campers were gathered at the shelter and Shadow explained there was an emergency in the park, but nothing more. At first, he tried to keep everyone in the immediate vicinity of the shelter, but many of the younger boy scouts chafed at the inactivity. Soon the scoutmaster had senior scouts working with the younger boys on merit badge qualifications. Each group of scouts had an adult escort and was forbidden to leave the meadow. Marlene and Billie asked him how they’d get their kayaks out but otherwise kept to themselves.

They waited nearly two hours until a Virginia Beach police officer showed up and took over. Shadow drove back to Wash Woods.

The entire area swarmed with cops of all sorts. He could barely squeeze his truck past all the vehicles parked along the narrow road. A barrier of bright yellow tape had been strung all around Jenny’s place. Her body hadn’t been moved, but a brown blanket now covered her. A few men moved about within the barricade, seemingly searching the ground for small clues, and a photographer walked around taking pictures. Through the trees, Shadow also saw several men checking the Taj Mahal.

He tried to make his way through the crowd of men and vehicles to the far side of the house, hoping for a glimpse of Jonesy’s body. Christ, who or what could have killed him? He’d been a strong, capable man.

“Shadow. Hey, Shadow!” He turned to see Lorene Walker approaching at a fast clip.

“Hello, Lorene. Any idea what happened yet?”

“It’s way too early to guess. It’ll take days to sort the entire crime scene and get the autopsy reports. Besides, this isn’t my case. They’ve got a state police detective on this one. Not that we won’t work together, of course.”