LustUndone (2 page)

Chapter One

“I have to say, Maine is probably the only place I’ve ever
been that’s colder than Montana. And maybe more desolate.”

Logan Tanner looked at Sophia, turned up the fleece-lined
collar of his rancher’s coat and pulled his Stetson down lower on his head
against the light snow falling. A Stafford jet had just delivered them to the
general aviation terminal at Northern Maine Regional Airport in Presque Isle,
Maine. At the counter inside the terminal a man had greeted them with the keys
to a four-wheel-drive SUV.

Sophia laughed. “I thought you Montana natives were from
hardy stock.”

“We like to think so, but I think you’ve got us beat.”

“Welcome to Aroostook County,” she told him. “It’s nicknamed
the Crown of Maine because it sits at the top of the state. Houlton, the county
seat, is only three miles from the border with Quebec and New Brunswick in
Canada. Can’t get much more north than that unless you go to Alaska.”

“That close?” Logan stared north, as if he could actually
see the line of demarcation. “With the area as wide open as it is, as
unpopulated as it seems to be, sneaking over the border shouldn’t be a
problem.”

“Not as much as you think, even though we’re only three
miles from the boundary line. The border police up here are pretty sharp,
Homeland Security has an office, and the hunters and potato farmers keep a
sharp eye out for strangers.”

“But didn’t you tell me your friends on the Maine State
Police tried to sell the story that this murder is the work of an illegal?”

Sophia gave an unladylike snort. “That’s because they’re
grasping at straws. For all I know they’re still holding on to it.”

Logan shaded his eyes and looked at the land beyond the
airport. Past the boundaries there was nothing but snow-covered fields and tall
pines draped with winter’s overcoat. “I’d think the terrain alone would
discourage people from trying to sneak over here. It’s a lot less friendly than
the southern borders.”

“You’d be amazed what determination can do for some people.”
She laughed. “Until they run into the natives, that is. Or a black bear or a
moose.”

The light snow was slowly thickening, the wind blowing it
into swirls and drifts, the sharp edge of it cutting into the skin on their
faces. A massive snowplow was in constant motion, keeping the two runways
clear.

“I’m surprised your sister didn’t meet us,” Logan said as
they climbed into their vehicle.

“I told Rebecca we’d have our own transportation. She’s
waiting for us at the barracks in Houlton.” Sophia clicked the seat belt into
place. “The airport’s in Presque Isle but the barracks are in Houlton because
it’s the county seat. The drive usually takes about an hour although it could
be longer with this snow.”

“Not a problem. I’ve driven in worse before. And I noticed
this vehicle has brand-new heavy-duty snow tires on it so no worries there.”

“Okay. Just head out through the gate and it’s a straight
shot down Route 1.”

Logan grunted and punched the destination address into the
GPS, then followed Airport Road onto Route 1 and headed south. “The text from
Ric said our motel’s in Houlton, too.”

“Yes. It’s a fairly new one and has about everything we’ll
need. And it’s located right where Route 1 and I-95 intersect, at the absolute
north end of 95. Plus it’s at the head of the snowmobile trails, if we need to
use them, so it’ll be very convenient.”

“Even though the killing took place near Presque Isle?”

“Areas kind of blend into each other out here.” She gave his
arm a light punch. “Kind of like in Montana, right?”

“Point taken,” he agreed as they headed toward Houlton. “It
is a pretty wide-open place.”

Sophia nodded. “Aroostook is so big folks who live here just
call it The County. It’s as big as Connecticut and Rhode Island combined, but
the population only tops out at about seven thousand.”

“Lots of isolated places for the devil beast to hunt. A
perfect feeding ground for it.”

“You bet. There are scattered hunting and fishing camps, of
course the potato farmers and logging camps, and just plain isolated homes of
people who don’t want society crowding around them. We’ll have a lot of
territory to cover.” She glanced over at him. “That’s where you come in.”

“What about the presence of wolves?” he asked, maneuvering
his way carefully around a huge truck hauling logs. “I don’t want anyone out
here getting trigger happy if they happen to see me in my wolven form.”

“The wolf population might be sparse but the people in The
County are used to seeing one now and then. There used to be a fair-sized
population of gray wolves here but now they’re pretty scarce,” she went on.
“There was a strong movement a few years ago to reintroduce a protection
program but the federal government said they were already protected under the
Endangered Species Act. Mostly what’s here now are the gray wolves which
migrate down from Canada.”

“I wonder if the beast is using its wolf form to hunt.”

“We don’t know and no one’s reported spotting one. Besides,”
she pointed out, “we know we can’t assume that this is the only form it shifts
into. If in fact that’s what it’s doing.”

“We’re lucky we found the report on this kill as quickly as
we did.”

She nodded. “Before it feels compelled to complete its
pattern. I wish we knew more.” She pulled a slim folder from the briefcase
she’d stashed at her feet. “The man they found owns—owned—a fish camp west of
Presque Isle. It’s private property but he opens it to people who stay at the
nearby campground in season. Even has a few cabins for folks who come back year
after year just for the fishing.”

“Not much of that going on right now.” Logan bumped up the
speed of the windshield wipers.

“No. And apparently he lived alone so it was a couple of
days before anyone missed him. The owner of the campground was trying to call
him, got no answer after several tries and headed over there on a snowmobile.
Found him on the front porch. Same condition as all the others. What we got off
the internet is pretty thin but Craig said they’d have more information for us
at the barracks.”

“I can’t believe they’re actually letting us hook up with
them.”

Sophia made a rude sound. “They’re not, really. If Craig
hadn’t worked his contacts and Rebecca hadn’t pushed we’d be here but on the
outside looking in, fighting them as well as the devil beast. And be prepared
for some animosity. When my nephews were killed and I did all that research on
the internet they called me everything but a crazy person. They won’t be
welcoming us.”

Logan pounded a fist on the steering wheel. “Why is it
always so damn hard to make people believe what we’re telling them?”

“You know the answer to that. The majority of the population
refuses to accept anything paranormal, especially something as bizarre as this.
Anything they can’t see, can’t find a logical explanation for. But with no
clues at all and no explanation they’re grudgingly willing to listen to what we
have to say. Only because we’ve had experience with similar killings and our
input might be valuable. But I’m pretty sure they’re thinking serial killer,
not the devil beast.”

“Even though there were no traces of anyone being there
except the dead man?”

“Uh-huh. Prejudices die hard.”

“Is your sister the primary on this?”

“No. She wanted to be but the sergeant gave the lead position
to a detective named Robert Lacroix. Bobby. He’s in the Criminal Investigation
Division with Bec.”

“French?”

“Half. Lot of people ended up in northern Maine when the
English kicked the French out of Acadia in Canada.”

“Is he someone you used to work with?” Logan’s curiosity was
mild but evident.

“Yes. But not that often. I actually worked more out of
Bangor.” She sighed. Bobby had made personal overtures the few times they’d
worked together indicating that he’d like to take things a little further, but
for Sophia the chemistry had not been there. And she hadn’t been interested in
just sweating the sheets with a coworker.

Logan couldn’t keep the curiosity out of his voice. “Sounds
like there was more to it than that.”

“For him, not for me. And it really didn’t go anywhere.
Besides, Bobby’s a professional. He won’t let the past interfere with this
investigation.” She remembered the first time she’d learned about the
Chupacabra, when her twin nephews had been brutally slain and mauled. “I’m
hoping Rebecca will pull up the old file about my nephews. Once we get the
specifics of this case on the record I plan to convince everyone up the food
chain that the cases are related.”

“The death of your nephews must have been really hard for
you.” Logan’s voice was edged with sympathy. “Especially with everyone thinking
your theory was crazy and you not being allowed to even work the case.”

When her twin nephews had been found dead, their bodies in a
mutilated condition, she’d had a suspicion based on some things she’d read.
She’d gone online to do some heavy research about similar incidents and
discovered the Chupacabra. But she seemed to be the only person on the force
who believed in the creature. At the time no one had given her theory any
credence or was even willing to assign resources to follow it up. Now she was
back where it all had started, only with the addition of Night Seekers
resources.

Sophia swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. This was the
first time she’d been back to Maine since the call from Craig Stafford asking
her to join the Night Seekers and her stomach suddenly knotted as the memory of
the scene swept over her. Those two beautiful little boys, ripped open, blood
drained, a scene etched in acid in her memory. She’d need every bit of control
to keep from falling apart here. Craig Stafford hadn’t hired her to crack wide
open. He’d hired her to track a devil beast and that’s what she was going to
do.

She was sure when she and Logan were getting ready for this
trip that she’d be fine, that she could deal with returning to the scene of
devastation. But hell. It was going to be damn hard not to let her emotions
break loose.

Plus she knew this would be an uphill battle to convince the
detective that they were dealing with something beyond human comprehension.

“Yes, well.” She turned her head and stared out the window.
“I know you can relate to that. I mean, I know you were the one who found your
family members.”

“How are your brother and sister-in-law?” Logan asked.

Sad. Devastated. But infused with a new ray of hope.

“Shelley’s pregnant,” she told him. “And they’re very
excited about it. It’s helping them deal with the loss.”

“Good. That’s good. I hope I get to meet them.” He paused,
then asked as if almost reading her thoughts, “Are you sure you should have
taken this gig? That coming back here isn’t too hard for you?”

“My state, my territory, my nephews to avenge. And don’t
worry. I won’t lose it. I’m a disciplined operative, Logan. I can handle this.
Just as much as you can. You lost someone, too.”

His brother and sister-in-law had been destroyed by the act
of the devil beast. And like Sophia with her nephews, he’d been the one to find
them.

“Yes, I did.” His voice was taut with sudden emotion. “And I
actually dread the moment when I’ll have to return to Montana, even though I
know it’s coming sooner or later. Too many painful memories. So I think I know
where you’re at.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay. I have to be. Anyway, this is my
territory so it’s only logical that I’d be part of this new case. And my sister’s
on the CID team that’s handling it.”

“I’m surprised we’re not getting together with everyone in
Presque Isle,” he commented.

“The barracks for this area is in Houlton. That’s the county
seat and that facility is the heart of the operation in Aroostook County. There
are places we meet in Presque Isle when we need to but for this session the
barracks was the most logical choice. Since the killing was around here,
they’ll work out of the Houlton barracks.”

“Any word yet on the hunt for Melinda?”

Every Night Seeker was focused in some way on the hunt for
Chloe Guitron’s close friend who had been taken by the Chupacabra.

“Nothing. But everyone’s on it in some way.”

“I hate to say it out loud, but I don’t even want to think
of the shape she’ll be in if and when we find her.”

“I agree.”

Conversation lagged after that as the snowflakes continued
to thicken and Logan concentrated on his driving. Sophia stared out the side
window at the familiar landscape, every bit of it stamped into her memory.
Empty land rolled away on either side of them, now covered in heavy drifts of
snow. Trees reached stark limbs skyward and the lights of oncoming cars were
like haloes in the windblown snowfall. She could just imagine the Chupacabra
slinking through the cover of winter, seeking its prey. And people, used to the
roaming of gray wolves, not shrinking away from it. Ignoring it until it was
too late.

Sophia would never forget the sight of the bodies of her
nephews, or the grief her brother Damien and his wife Shelley suffered. She’d
promised herself to find this devil beast and kill it one way or another. If
the Night Seekers couldn’t do it, no one could. But convincing a bunch of
no-nonsense Maine cops that they were dealing with the paranormal would
definitely be a struggle.

In Houlton, where Route 1 intersected with I-95, they passed
Skye’s Motel where Craig had reserved rooms for them. Rebecca had offered them
a place to stay at her house in Presque Isle but they wanted to be close to the
state police barracks, and the crime laboratory. Besides, Sophia knew Logan
wanted to have the opportunity to shift and run when he needed to without
someone’s curious eyes watching him.