retrieved all the evidence she thought she’d find, including a single bullet. Straightening, she walked over to Jake. “We gotta get it out of here. Wolves found it only recently. Maybe they didn’t catch the scent right off because of the rain. Anyway, they haven’t finished feeding yet, maybe scared off by Larry, but they’re probably watching right now, waiting for a chance to finish it.”
Jake nodded as he passed the reins back to her. “Larry’s bringing the truck out. I guess I can’t take the carcass up the mountains? And it’s no good for anyone to eat now.”
Desi stared at a mess she felt bordered on some kind of desecration. Leaving it here would attract the wolves. Moving the remains...depending on where it was dumped there could be some legal issues. Mess though it was, it was still evidence.
She sighed. “You know you can’t dump the meat, Jake. It’s probably useless at this point, especially since I have tissue samples, but I should take it in for evidence anyway. Nor would burying it keep the wolves away.”
“Got my herd to worry about.”
“I know. Help me get it into the back of my truck. I’ll cart it to an evidence freezer, not that I expect we’ll locate whoever did this. But we can’t leave it here.”
“Guess we’re going to be keeping a sharp eye out the next few days.”
Desi just shook her head, her stomach roiling with anger. “It stinks, Jake. I can’t tell you how mad this poaching makes me. Bad enough in the mountains, but worse on private property. So I guess I need to go back for my truck.”
“Larry’s coming. He’s taking the longer way around. I knew I was going to have to do something about this one way or another. I don’t want any wolves eyeing my herd.”
“No, you don’t,” she agreed. Then she offered some casual conversation, seeking a way to avoid erupting. “How’s Nora?” His wife.
“The doc says she still has a month to six weeks, but if you ask me, that woman is about to pop.”
Desi managed a laugh. “She must be miserable.”
“She’s getting there. The nursery’s all ready, James seems to understand he’s about to have a baby sister, and Nora...well, she’s at the point where I have to stop her from moving the furniture. Nesting, one of her friends calls it, but would you believe I caught her trying to move a sofa bed? Must weigh damn near two hundred pounds.”
“Um...wow.”
Jake chuckled, though he didn’t appear at all happy at the moment. “Yeah. An understated version of my reaction.”
Fifteen minutes later, she heard the unmistakable approach of a truck. Turning, she saw Larry in the battered red pickup jolting his way over uneven ground. Between the three of them, it didn’t take long to get the remains wrapped in the plastic Larry had brought along, and soon Jake was dousing the bloody ground with gallons of vinegar from the back of Larry’s truck.
She rode the pinto back to her truck, taking her time because she’d have to wait for Larry. Jake stayed behind because he was concerned about where his fence had been broken, allowing this ram to get through.
No point calling anyone, she thought as she rode. Even if this hunter had a valid permit, he’d have to keep at least the horns attached to the skullcap to prove what he’d killed. No, this guy wasn’t going to tell anyone around here about the kill, especially when he’d wasted the meat. Permit or no, the sheep had been killed on posted land, making it poaching. No truly legit hunter would do that. Legally, however, the hunter had fifteen days to report the kill. Two down and counting. She wasn’t holding her breath.
She had to remain calm and collected. It was her job. Much as the anger churned in her stomach, she had to keep her head clear. It wasn’t always easy. She’d been businesslike with Jake because she had to be, but she shared his fury.
This was happening too often. In her five years at this station, she’d seen the increase, and she had little doubt that the trophy hunters were coming from outside the state.
Yeah, locals poached. It happened often enough, but the main difference was, while they might exceed the limits of their licenses, or even hunt without one, they kept the meat. They wanted the meat.
Trophy hunters were something else altogether. A big, beautiful ram had been killed just so some idiot could put its head on a wall and its skin on the floor. Wasting the meat was against the law, too, so even if this jerk was licensed to take that ram, he’d committed a crime.
Not to mention the little bit of trespass that was involved. Now Jake would have to spend days looking for where they’d broken through his fence, while guarding his herd from wolves who might now think they could find easy pickings there. Bad for Jake. Bad for the wolves. Bad for the whole darn ecosystem.
Desi enjoyed a lot about her job. She loved keeping an eye on the migratory animals, making sure they were able to trek and that they were healthy. She loved everything about protecting the wildlife around here, even when it meant giving someone a hard time for fishing without a license, or exceeding the catch limit. And she loved it when she caught a poacher.
But this...these guys weren’t going to be easy to catch. They came and went like ghosts, clearing out as soon as they had their trophy. They didn’t hang around waiting for a neighbor to become suspicious or someone to catch sight of what they were doing and call the wardens. Nope. Ghosts.
* * *
As she drove through town on her way back, she waved to people she recognized, and pulled over once to share a few words with Julie Archer, who kept wanting her to join “the gals” for lunch. Except Desi’s job didn’t often leave a lot of regular time for socializing. She liked the group of women, though, and kept telling herself she was going to make time for lunch with them some weekend. After hunting season.
When she got back to the office, the closed sign still hung in the window. That didn’t surprise her. Five wardens worked out of this station, covering thousands of square miles. Most of them only checked in by phone except when there was a big meeting or they needed to coordinate on something.
Being senior warden, she was based here.
The two-story office was on the edge of town, just a small distance from a quiet neighborhood. They kept it up pretty well so it looked good, all stained wood with sturdy shutters for the windows. Her living quarters were upstairs, a leftover from days long gone. It also had a small dirt and gravel parking lot, and a blue truck with a shell was waiting there as she pulled in.
Seeing the truck, she pulled up near it instead of driving around back to the shed with the evidence lockers.
Curiosity punched her anger down a little bit, then when the guy immediately climbed out, her anger deserted her completely. An instant attraction hit her as if by magic.
He wore a plain blue shirt under a blue quilted vest, tight jeans. Every inch of him bespoke a fit, well-muscled body. As he walked toward her on hiking boots, she felt another burst of attraction. He moved easily and his dress spoke woodsman, not cowboy. Ah, cut it out, she told herself. No time for this. She had a problem to deal with.
She climbed out to face him and got another surprise when she realized how tall he was, and she wasn’t short herself. Smiling gray eyes set in a square face looked at her from beneath a camouflage ball cap.
“Can
