Full Wolf Moon (12 page)
So who, then? Who had the savvy, who had the background? Certainly not the Inu Hunters. A small band of frustrated teenagers? No, it was becoming all too clear now that they were as much a dead end as the town bullies ...
Shit! Max pressed his hands to his ears, the buzzing becoming a stabbing pain, now. He began to feel dizzy. He sank down until he was sitting on the red, dusty shoreline, the lake water just inches from his shoe tips. He raised his eyes to the sun. It seemed as close to the foothills as the water was to his toes. Then he saw the fuzzy shape of two people strolling in the distance, their movement more a cue to Max's eyes than their form. They hesitated, as if catching sight of Max, then began walking toward him.
Clear your head, clear your head, he thought, and forced his mind back onto his conjectures in an attempt to ease the pain and the vertigo. Okay... maybe not the Inu Hunters directly. But could those boys... so quick to call their neighbors stooges...could they be the stooges? Somebody older, wiser... controlling these boys? A pro, now stuck in the camp. God, an insurgent. Making mischief as best he can. But to kill his own people! No... not his own people, he wouldn't see it that way.
There. Finally. The buzzing and pain began to recede, the rush of vertigo eased. By the time the two people became clear to Max's vision, he was pushing himself back onto his feet.
"You all right there, cap'n?" They were two elderly fisherman with equipment draped around them like the locks and chains on old Jacob Marley.
"I'm fine now, thanks," Max replied as pleasantly as he could, brushing the dust from his uniform. Behind the fishermen, he could see his car coming down the road.
"We saw you holding your head as you went down..."
"Yeah. I had a little dizziness, but it's passed. Working a little too hard and long, I guess." He nodded over their shoulders and the two of them turned toward the growling of the motor. "Thanks for your concern. My driver's coming now."
He got into the car, dizzy now with excitement over his new revelation instead of pain. The Inu Hunters. Some sort of pathetic front men. The buzzing in his ears was gone now and his head felt as clear as if he were breathing the crisp mountain air of Alderquest. He was onto something this time, and he would have felt euphoric about it, had the certainty of his second night of seizures not lay before him.
Chapter 16
Tulenar Internment Camp
Late afternoon. New Moon.
There were so many search parties, Doris could look out her office windows at any given moment and glimpse the distant movement. The mournful baying of hounds drifted over the foothills hourly. Volunteers had come out of Disjunction Lake in droves and even select evacuees were allowed to participate, under certain restrictions. Captain Pierce had personally organized the pattern of the sweep and assigned the search leaders.
Doris had begun the week with hope. Perhaps not the hope of finding Mrs. Tamura alive, but at least she had been certain the poor woman's body would be found. That had been Monday morning, though. Now it was late Saturday afternoon.
And as if the Ataki and Tamura crises were not enough, she'd endured F.B.I. interviews, press conferences and news headlines like: "Iron Lady of Tulenar Keeps Jap Residents In Check During Crisis!"
She hadn't seen Arthur since the sergeant of the M.P.'s had ordered him off her porch.
But Pierce, she'd seen or spoken with every day. He sat with her now at the meeting table in her office, both of them looking through the window at the camp. She had to admit, he'd done good work. His energy had been damned near limitless, his organization was impeccable, his diplomacy a hell of a lot better than her own.
Only once during this operation had she seen his easy rapport waver, early on, when she had questioned his plan for the search pattern. Her remark had been harmless, at least in Doris's opinion. A simple question, she somehow hadn't been able to resist, even if she was certain Alma Curar was a lunatic: Had the captain assigned searchers to the quadrant surrounding the Ataki site?
Pierce had looked at her as if she had questioned his loyalty to the nation. "Mrs. Tebbe," he'd said, "I can't believe you're asking that. What is it, would you like this job, too? Are thirteen, fourteen hour days not enough work for you?"
Doris had bristled right back, of course, indignant at his indignation. But she hadn't pressed the argument, given the source that had provoked her question in the first place. She'd snapped off some retort that had sounded lame, even to her, and that had been that. A small altercation. She didn't really hold it against the captain, and he had seemed to forget it minutes later himself.
That wasn't the reason Doris thought his behavior was a little smug lately. He'd seemed so all week, as if he knew something she didn't. Ah, hell. She decided she was just trying to find fault again.
Now, as he set his glasses on the table and yawned into his fist, she was thinking he wanted to call it a day. He certainly deserved a few hours off. Instead he said, "I could use a break, how about you?"
"A break? Captain, you've more than earned your pay scale this week. I think you should head back to your quarters."
"No, I mean, let's get out of here and grab some supper."
"Supper?"
Doris looked at her watch, any number of problems tumbling into thought. It was four-thirty. She hadn't worked on her archery all week. She'd hoped to get in some practice before sunset. The second shift search wouldn't be in for at least another hour. She wanted to learn what they might have to pass on to the third ...
"Come on, Mrs. Tebbe. My treat."
"Where?" she asked, still reluctant. "The press will mob us if we go into town."
"We'll sneak over to Shelton."
"We can't afford to be out of touch..."
"We'll be gone two hours max, for cryin' out loud. We'll call our people when we get there."
"Thanks, but...no. I better pass." Doris felt a twinge of guilt as the captain fell briefly into silence.
Then he said, "suit yourself," in a voice falsely light. He rose from the table. "I should be back at my office by six-thirty. Give me a ring there if anything comes up."
He pulled his jacket off the back of his chair. He looked a little tired, but still ready for the evening's business. Really, Doris would have liked to take that break with Pierce. Nice to think of getting away from the camp for a little while. But there was so much left to do. It was best if that break was a half-hour of archery.
They said their good-byes and Doris turned back to the window as the captain walked out the door. Dust hovered at the edges of camp, even the late afternoon sun looked red and dusty. It made her think of Arthur...
She caught up with Pierce just as he was climbing into the back seat of his car.
/ / / /
Shelton had a small Mexican style cantina, the menu limited, authentic and peculiar to Doris. Pierce ordered the tamales, but Doris played it safe with soft-shelled tacos. She wasn't sure what kind of cheese was sprinkled on top of the beef; it was mild, white and crumbly. When the captain offered her the little bowl of hot sauce, she shook her head.
The cocktails were good; tequila, a liqueur called triple sec and limeade with a salt rim. She forgot the name.
They sat outside on the cantina's modest veranda, and Doris felt a little like she was on vacation. Shelton wasn't much bigger than Disjunction Lake, but it had a decidedly Latino feel to it, and its citizens made the best of their desert surroundings. They didn't grade over the course native flora, then try to force midwestern grass to take puny, struggling root. Instead they just shifted the sage and cactus around to suit them.
The town was nice scenery in contrast to Doris's usual eyescape of dust and barbed wire. The warm, red sunset was putting on a show...
That was the second time today she thought of the sunset and she didn't like the sting it caused. She pushed her attention onto Pierce.
"Captain, I'm glad you talked me into this," she said, hoping her tone didn't sound forced.
If it did, Pierce didn't seem to notice. "I thought you'd be."
"You've been to Shelton before?"
"No. Heard about it." Pierce nodded toward the sunset. "Something to see, isn't it?"
"Mm," was all Doris replied, irritated by the reminder.
"Annie --," Pierce said, but then stopped short.
Doris looked at the captain. She waited for him to continue, but he stared at the sun and sipped his cocktail. Something had changed in his mood.
Still watching him, she took a drink of her own cocktail, then cleared her throat. "Well ... I could ignore this moment. But I won't. Annie?"
Another hesitation, then Pierce replied, "Annie was my wife. I was going to say she would have loved this place."
"Was...?"
"She's ... I'm a widower."
Doris was stunned speechless a moment. A man his age, with his work ethic; she had assumed Pierce was a military career bachelor. Doris hadn't even imagined him divorced because he'd never mentioned a woman's name, other than in a business context. At least not in her presence.
Now she could see it in his face. He hadn't been widowed long.
"I'm sorry," Doris said. This was the one emotion in her life that didn't feel awkward. She'd been there herself. "When did it happen?"
"While I was still stationed at Bete. It's why I requested transfer."
"Washington state, right?"
She saw Pierce's adam's apple work. This was hard for him. But he wanted to talk about it, that much was clear. And it was finally occurring to her; maybe this was, at least in part, why he wanted to buy her dinner.
She was both startled and flattered by the revelation. At first she couldn't imagine what he saw in her that even vaguely seemed to welcome confidence. But she'd walked the same road he was walking, hadn't she? He knew that. And she was the only woman around for miles that he probably considered his career equal. He wouldn't talk about this to his secretary. He probably wouldn't talk about it to another man.
So he lost his wife while he was stationed in Washington. Damn, no wonder he wanted out of there. His wife dies, he nearly loses his own life... Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
"That wasn't very long ago," Doris said as gently as she'd ever said anything to anyone. "These things ... they take time, Captain."
Pierce tilted his head back, and Doris wondered a little frantically if he were close to tears. She couldn't tell for sure. The thickness of his glasses obscured the corners of his eyes. She'd never seen a man cry, and she didn't want to now.
When he spoke, his voice was strained, but not tearful. "Yeah. I've got no choice there, do I?"
Doris shrugged. "Who does?"
As he lowered his head again, she looked quickly to the sun, slipping well below the horizon now. They both went for their cocktails.
"How'd it happen?" she finally asked.
Pierce looked over at her, began to say something, then shook his head as if to rethink.
"I'm sorry," Doris said quickly. "You don't have to."
He waved away her objection. "It's okay. This is supposed to be good for me, right? That's what my doctor said. Did it help you, Mrs. Tebbe? To talk about it?"
"Well, I'm... not very good at listening to advice..." Right, she thought, that's going to make him feel better. "But, you know...I should have talked about it. You should, too. You should. If you want, I mean. I'd like to hear about it."
He hesitated a moment, then said, "We had a cabin. A nice rental we used for special get-aways, on Remmel Mountain. It was the first time we'd really gotten some time together since I was released from the hospital." Pierce looked over at Doris and smiled. "It was beautiful. February. Wild and snowy. Every night was as clear as..."
The smile faded from his face. "That's what I don't understand about it. With the moon out, the snow would have been brilliant, her path couldn't have been better lit if she's been walking down a city street. But...somehow. There was a ravine just a short walk from the cabin. Very scenic, deep and craggy. Primal, all the more gorgeous with a good snowfall. Normally, Annie wouldn't have chanced getting too close to the rim after a heavy snow."
Pierce turned away from Doris and looked at his own hands, splaying the fingers and turning the palms upward as if his wife had only just then slipped away. His voice a near-whisper, he said, "This time she was careless."
Watching Pierce stare at his hands, Doris thought she knew what was torturing him most. "Oh, Lord, Captain. And you couldn't reach her in time."
He shrugged, a helpless gesture, and looked at her again. "I wasn't even there, Mrs. Tebbe. She'd gotten up in the middle of the night, which was as peculiar to her as carelessness. But, you know, with the attack, with my career uncertain ... anyone would have a sleepless night...and I..."
He stopped to swallow twice, hard. Apparently that didn't help, because he grabbed his drink. Doris felt her own throat tighten for his sake and wondered if she were really doing the right thing for Pierce, making him rehash all this pain.
"I'm just grateful," he finally continued, "that she wasn't conscious for most of the fall. The coroner said she might have died almost immediately after slipping. The blood was..."
This time he couldn't continue. When he stood to walk off his upset, Doris saw the tremor in his hands as he brought his right one to his ear and pressed it there. He stepped a few paces from her before dropping his hand away and returning to his seat. Now, Doris only wanted to spare him from recounting any more. She summed up the conclusion on conjecture.
"The coroner was probably right, Captain. A blow to the head like that. When she slipped and hit against the rocks, surely she--"
Shit! Max pressed his hands to his ears, the buzzing becoming a stabbing pain, now. He began to feel dizzy. He sank down until he was sitting on the red, dusty shoreline, the lake water just inches from his shoe tips. He raised his eyes to the sun. It seemed as close to the foothills as the water was to his toes. Then he saw the fuzzy shape of two people strolling in the distance, their movement more a cue to Max's eyes than their form. They hesitated, as if catching sight of Max, then began walking toward him.
Clear your head, clear your head, he thought, and forced his mind back onto his conjectures in an attempt to ease the pain and the vertigo. Okay... maybe not the Inu Hunters directly. But could those boys... so quick to call their neighbors stooges...could they be the stooges? Somebody older, wiser... controlling these boys? A pro, now stuck in the camp. God, an insurgent. Making mischief as best he can. But to kill his own people! No... not his own people, he wouldn't see it that way.
There. Finally. The buzzing and pain began to recede, the rush of vertigo eased. By the time the two people became clear to Max's vision, he was pushing himself back onto his feet.
"You all right there, cap'n?" They were two elderly fisherman with equipment draped around them like the locks and chains on old Jacob Marley.
"I'm fine now, thanks," Max replied as pleasantly as he could, brushing the dust from his uniform. Behind the fishermen, he could see his car coming down the road.
"We saw you holding your head as you went down..."
"Yeah. I had a little dizziness, but it's passed. Working a little too hard and long, I guess." He nodded over their shoulders and the two of them turned toward the growling of the motor. "Thanks for your concern. My driver's coming now."
He got into the car, dizzy now with excitement over his new revelation instead of pain. The Inu Hunters. Some sort of pathetic front men. The buzzing in his ears was gone now and his head felt as clear as if he were breathing the crisp mountain air of Alderquest. He was onto something this time, and he would have felt euphoric about it, had the certainty of his second night of seizures not lay before him.
Chapter 16
Tulenar Internment Camp
Late afternoon. New Moon.
There were so many search parties, Doris could look out her office windows at any given moment and glimpse the distant movement. The mournful baying of hounds drifted over the foothills hourly. Volunteers had come out of Disjunction Lake in droves and even select evacuees were allowed to participate, under certain restrictions. Captain Pierce had personally organized the pattern of the sweep and assigned the search leaders.
Doris had begun the week with hope. Perhaps not the hope of finding Mrs. Tamura alive, but at least she had been certain the poor woman's body would be found. That had been Monday morning, though. Now it was late Saturday afternoon.
And as if the Ataki and Tamura crises were not enough, she'd endured F.B.I. interviews, press conferences and news headlines like: "Iron Lady of Tulenar Keeps Jap Residents In Check During Crisis!"
She hadn't seen Arthur since the sergeant of the M.P.'s had ordered him off her porch.
But Pierce, she'd seen or spoken with every day. He sat with her now at the meeting table in her office, both of them looking through the window at the camp. She had to admit, he'd done good work. His energy had been damned near limitless, his organization was impeccable, his diplomacy a hell of a lot better than her own.
Only once during this operation had she seen his easy rapport waver, early on, when she had questioned his plan for the search pattern. Her remark had been harmless, at least in Doris's opinion. A simple question, she somehow hadn't been able to resist, even if she was certain Alma Curar was a lunatic: Had the captain assigned searchers to the quadrant surrounding the Ataki site?
Pierce had looked at her as if she had questioned his loyalty to the nation. "Mrs. Tebbe," he'd said, "I can't believe you're asking that. What is it, would you like this job, too? Are thirteen, fourteen hour days not enough work for you?"
Doris had bristled right back, of course, indignant at his indignation. But she hadn't pressed the argument, given the source that had provoked her question in the first place. She'd snapped off some retort that had sounded lame, even to her, and that had been that. A small altercation. She didn't really hold it against the captain, and he had seemed to forget it minutes later himself.
That wasn't the reason Doris thought his behavior was a little smug lately. He'd seemed so all week, as if he knew something she didn't. Ah, hell. She decided she was just trying to find fault again.
Now, as he set his glasses on the table and yawned into his fist, she was thinking he wanted to call it a day. He certainly deserved a few hours off. Instead he said, "I could use a break, how about you?"
"A break? Captain, you've more than earned your pay scale this week. I think you should head back to your quarters."
"No, I mean, let's get out of here and grab some supper."
"Supper?"
Doris looked at her watch, any number of problems tumbling into thought. It was four-thirty. She hadn't worked on her archery all week. She'd hoped to get in some practice before sunset. The second shift search wouldn't be in for at least another hour. She wanted to learn what they might have to pass on to the third ...
"Come on, Mrs. Tebbe. My treat."
"Where?" she asked, still reluctant. "The press will mob us if we go into town."
"We'll sneak over to Shelton."
"We can't afford to be out of touch..."
"We'll be gone two hours max, for cryin' out loud. We'll call our people when we get there."
"Thanks, but...no. I better pass." Doris felt a twinge of guilt as the captain fell briefly into silence.
Then he said, "suit yourself," in a voice falsely light. He rose from the table. "I should be back at my office by six-thirty. Give me a ring there if anything comes up."
He pulled his jacket off the back of his chair. He looked a little tired, but still ready for the evening's business. Really, Doris would have liked to take that break with Pierce. Nice to think of getting away from the camp for a little while. But there was so much left to do. It was best if that break was a half-hour of archery.
They said their good-byes and Doris turned back to the window as the captain walked out the door. Dust hovered at the edges of camp, even the late afternoon sun looked red and dusty. It made her think of Arthur...
She caught up with Pierce just as he was climbing into the back seat of his car.
/ / / /
Shelton had a small Mexican style cantina, the menu limited, authentic and peculiar to Doris. Pierce ordered the tamales, but Doris played it safe with soft-shelled tacos. She wasn't sure what kind of cheese was sprinkled on top of the beef; it was mild, white and crumbly. When the captain offered her the little bowl of hot sauce, she shook her head.
The cocktails were good; tequila, a liqueur called triple sec and limeade with a salt rim. She forgot the name.
They sat outside on the cantina's modest veranda, and Doris felt a little like she was on vacation. Shelton wasn't much bigger than Disjunction Lake, but it had a decidedly Latino feel to it, and its citizens made the best of their desert surroundings. They didn't grade over the course native flora, then try to force midwestern grass to take puny, struggling root. Instead they just shifted the sage and cactus around to suit them.
The town was nice scenery in contrast to Doris's usual eyescape of dust and barbed wire. The warm, red sunset was putting on a show...
That was the second time today she thought of the sunset and she didn't like the sting it caused. She pushed her attention onto Pierce.
"Captain, I'm glad you talked me into this," she said, hoping her tone didn't sound forced.
If it did, Pierce didn't seem to notice. "I thought you'd be."
"You've been to Shelton before?"
"No. Heard about it." Pierce nodded toward the sunset. "Something to see, isn't it?"
"Mm," was all Doris replied, irritated by the reminder.
"Annie --," Pierce said, but then stopped short.
Doris looked at the captain. She waited for him to continue, but he stared at the sun and sipped his cocktail. Something had changed in his mood.
Still watching him, she took a drink of her own cocktail, then cleared her throat. "Well ... I could ignore this moment. But I won't. Annie?"
Another hesitation, then Pierce replied, "Annie was my wife. I was going to say she would have loved this place."
"Was...?"
"She's ... I'm a widower."
Doris was stunned speechless a moment. A man his age, with his work ethic; she had assumed Pierce was a military career bachelor. Doris hadn't even imagined him divorced because he'd never mentioned a woman's name, other than in a business context. At least not in her presence.
Now she could see it in his face. He hadn't been widowed long.
"I'm sorry," Doris said. This was the one emotion in her life that didn't feel awkward. She'd been there herself. "When did it happen?"
"While I was still stationed at Bete. It's why I requested transfer."
"Washington state, right?"
She saw Pierce's adam's apple work. This was hard for him. But he wanted to talk about it, that much was clear. And it was finally occurring to her; maybe this was, at least in part, why he wanted to buy her dinner.
She was both startled and flattered by the revelation. At first she couldn't imagine what he saw in her that even vaguely seemed to welcome confidence. But she'd walked the same road he was walking, hadn't she? He knew that. And she was the only woman around for miles that he probably considered his career equal. He wouldn't talk about this to his secretary. He probably wouldn't talk about it to another man.
So he lost his wife while he was stationed in Washington. Damn, no wonder he wanted out of there. His wife dies, he nearly loses his own life... Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
"That wasn't very long ago," Doris said as gently as she'd ever said anything to anyone. "These things ... they take time, Captain."
Pierce tilted his head back, and Doris wondered a little frantically if he were close to tears. She couldn't tell for sure. The thickness of his glasses obscured the corners of his eyes. She'd never seen a man cry, and she didn't want to now.
When he spoke, his voice was strained, but not tearful. "Yeah. I've got no choice there, do I?"
Doris shrugged. "Who does?"
As he lowered his head again, she looked quickly to the sun, slipping well below the horizon now. They both went for their cocktails.
"How'd it happen?" she finally asked.
Pierce looked over at her, began to say something, then shook his head as if to rethink.
"I'm sorry," Doris said quickly. "You don't have to."
He waved away her objection. "It's okay. This is supposed to be good for me, right? That's what my doctor said. Did it help you, Mrs. Tebbe? To talk about it?"
"Well, I'm... not very good at listening to advice..." Right, she thought, that's going to make him feel better. "But, you know...I should have talked about it. You should, too. You should. If you want, I mean. I'd like to hear about it."
He hesitated a moment, then said, "We had a cabin. A nice rental we used for special get-aways, on Remmel Mountain. It was the first time we'd really gotten some time together since I was released from the hospital." Pierce looked over at Doris and smiled. "It was beautiful. February. Wild and snowy. Every night was as clear as..."
The smile faded from his face. "That's what I don't understand about it. With the moon out, the snow would have been brilliant, her path couldn't have been better lit if she's been walking down a city street. But...somehow. There was a ravine just a short walk from the cabin. Very scenic, deep and craggy. Primal, all the more gorgeous with a good snowfall. Normally, Annie wouldn't have chanced getting too close to the rim after a heavy snow."
Pierce turned away from Doris and looked at his own hands, splaying the fingers and turning the palms upward as if his wife had only just then slipped away. His voice a near-whisper, he said, "This time she was careless."
Watching Pierce stare at his hands, Doris thought she knew what was torturing him most. "Oh, Lord, Captain. And you couldn't reach her in time."
He shrugged, a helpless gesture, and looked at her again. "I wasn't even there, Mrs. Tebbe. She'd gotten up in the middle of the night, which was as peculiar to her as carelessness. But, you know, with the attack, with my career uncertain ... anyone would have a sleepless night...and I..."
He stopped to swallow twice, hard. Apparently that didn't help, because he grabbed his drink. Doris felt her own throat tighten for his sake and wondered if she were really doing the right thing for Pierce, making him rehash all this pain.
"I'm just grateful," he finally continued, "that she wasn't conscious for most of the fall. The coroner said she might have died almost immediately after slipping. The blood was..."
This time he couldn't continue. When he stood to walk off his upset, Doris saw the tremor in his hands as he brought his right one to his ear and pressed it there. He stepped a few paces from her before dropping his hand away and returning to his seat. Now, Doris only wanted to spare him from recounting any more. She summed up the conclusion on conjecture.
"The coroner was probably right, Captain. A blow to the head like that. When she slipped and hit against the rocks, surely she--"
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