Nancy smiled at her man. Instinctively she knew that the only time her Bob would consider hurting another living creature would be if she or the kids or Galen were threatened. But they had to do something—and soon.
Galen sat in the blind, dictating his observations of the wolf pack into a small digital recorder Edison had given him. He, too, worried about their safety.
“Will that be all, Mr. Caddler?”
The clerk handed him his change and stepped back from the wave of alcohol-laden breath emanating from the broken-blood-vesseled face that stared back across the counter.
“Ya sure ya put what I wanted in there?”
Caddler pointed at the box on the counter.
“Yes, sir, four boxes of double-ought-eight shells and two boxes of ammo for your rifle. Anything else?”
The weather-beaten man grunted, picked up the box, and walked out grinning to himself.
Got some unfinished business to settle. Ain’t no one keepin’ me offa huntin’ land. Been huntin’ there since I ‘as a boy. Let’s see what them damn city folks think ‘bout stoppin’ a load o’ buckshot!
School had let out early for a teacher workday, so when the bus dropped the kids off, instead of walking up the lane to the mountain house, as they normally would, the three ran to the blind to watch their canine friends. Only they didn’t stay inside the blind anymore—something they hadn’t told the elders. They had been accepted by the pack and could stand openly and marvel at how the young ones played at being adults, while the adults patiently watched and corrected only when a pup grew too aggressive.
Today, Athena minded the pups alone.
“Zeus and Mercury must be out hunting prey,” Freddie said.
Carmelita winced at the word “prey.” Nancy had taught her that predators such as wolves played a necessary part in Nature’s cycle of life, but even so she didn’t like the idea. She tried not to think about it, as she watched Athena boxing a wayward pup now bigger than herself.
She’s so much like Tia Nancy—gentle yet firm.
Suddenly the quiet of the forest was shattered by the echo of double-barrel shotgun blasts, which startled both canines and children. The three elders up at the house also heard the shots, just when they were discussing how to keep the hunters at bay. Edison and Galen rose immediately and headed out the front door.
“Nancy,” Edison yelled back. “Call the state police. Tell them we have poachers on the mountain!”
He ran to catch up with Galen, who was moving like a locomotive toward the blind area.
The kids heard thrashing approaching them in the underbrush, and soon Zeus rushed into the small clearing in front of the den, closely followed by Mercury. Trailing them, still some distance away, was the sound of unsteady human feet, accompanied by an angry but barely discernable voice.
“Don’t remember this path. Damned rocks and branches! Ain’t no one been here. Better huntin’ fer me!”
He paused, staring through alcohol-clouded eyes.
“Wha’ the hell’s that? Don’ remember no damned cave!”
Carmelita moved to the pack and shooed them toward the den. The adult animals obeyed, herding their young ones inside then standing guard near the opening.
A few moments later the children saw the shotgun-carrying man enter the clearing, attempting to reload while moving—a dangerous practice.
“So this is where them goddamn varmints ‘a’ been hidin’. Well, they ain’t gonna hide no more!”
Caddler shouted at the two boys and girl standing a few yards from the den opening, “Get outta my way! I’m gonna shoot those sons o’ bitches!”
Finally reloaded, he snapped shut the twin barrels and had the gun pointed in the general direction of the kids just as Galen and Edison arrived.
“Caddler, didn’t I tell you that this is a no-hunting area?” Edison yelled.
As he turned to face Edison, Galen stepped in on his flank and served up a roundhouse right directly to the man’s jaw. He moaned and promptly collapsed, his shotgun falling away to the ground.
“Sergeant, why are we driving up here? It’s hunting season, for crying out loud. We gonna chase down every dumb sonofabitch who strays onto posted land?”
Pennsylvania State Police Sergeant Ben Castle looked at the younger man sitting in the passenger seat of the patrol car and let out a snort. He was what they called a newbie, fresh out of police academy, so he had been paired up with the experienced older man to learn what couldn’t be taught in a classroom.
God! This kid hardly has more than peach fuzz on his face!
“Douglass, every state cop, no matter where he or she is assigned…”
Castle mentally sighed at the thought that females actually were state troopers now—but some of them were damned good ones!
“Every cop should be acquainted with the neighborhood he—or she—patrols and the people in it. Sometimes the routine calls can be the most dangerous.”
Just as he spoke, he spotted Caddler’s old pickup truck parked by the road near the entrance to the lane up to the top of the mountain.
“Shoulda known,” Castle muttered.
Just then the radio squawked out, “Sixteen-oh-eight, sixteen-oh-eight.”
Ben grabbed the microphone.
“Central, sixteen-oh-eight. Go ahead.”
“We have a ten-fifty-seven, vicinity of Mountain Vista Lane. See Mrs. Edison.”
“Central, sixteen-oh-eight, approaching scene,” Ben replied and gunned the big Ford’s motor as they shot up the driveway.
“What’s the story, Sarge?”
Douglass was fully alert now—nervous even.
Castle kept his eyes on the winding road, as they approached the summit.
“Here’s a classic example, Lachlan.”
The younger man relaxed at his superior’s use of his first name.
“See, down at the bottom of the road I spotted Lem Caddler’s truck. He’s a born troublemaker and a drunk to boot. Gets mean when he’s had a few. Now, some pretty good people live up here, three retired folks, a doctor and an electronics guru and his wife who’s big on Red Cross work. Got three adopted children, too.”
“So, Private Lachlan Douglass, you understand now why Caddler’s truck at the bottom of their driveway spells trouble? Add to that the gunshots report and we’re maybe walking into a real problem!”
The younger man
