That Reckless Night

“Not long,” she admitted. “Let’s hope we have some luck on our side.”

“We might need more than luck,” Jeremiah muttered. “We might need divine intervention so we don’t get stuck in that storm.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist.” She grinned. “This is probably the most excitement you’ve had in years. Enjoy it.”

He barked a short laugh but didn’t deny it. “Let’s arrive alive,” he advised, looking purposefully at her speedometer as she sped down the slick road. “Let’s just say we catch them. What’s your plan? Are you going to load them into the Range Rover and expect them to behave?”

“I have a gun and I know how to use it.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do. However, you can’t shoot the poachers. The perpetrators must be brought to justice and tried in the court of law with due process. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Your definition of stupid and my definition of stupid might not be the same,” she warned. She wasn’t about to make promises that she didn’t know she could keep. She’d been tracking these poachers for two years. It was time to bring them down. And if they wouldn’t come peacefully, they would come howling from a bullet lodged in their legs. “Listen, I know what I can and can’t do within the parameters of the law. Why don’t you radio it in? That way we have reinforcements.”

“I can do that.” Jeremiah grabbed the radio handset and called the ranger station. “This is Fish and Game director Jeremiah Burke. We’re on the trail of possible poachers and we may need backup if things get dicey. Will radio our location when we assess the situation. Heading toward Woodstock’s Trail.”

“Copy that.” The dispatcher’s voice cracked a long line. “We’ve got a ranger on his way to haul the bear back to station.”

“Copy.”

Miranda smiled. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Jeremiah laughed at her cheeky comment. “Just drive.”

They left the highway and started up the service trail. The road became muddy and ugly, necessitating four-wheel drive. Fifteen minutes later they came upon the base of Woodstock’s Trail and parked the vehicle. They’d have to walk from there. Miranda shouldered her pack and grabbed her gun as they struck out toward the location of the bear carcass.

Miranda became laser-focused, looking for any clue, any sign of the poachers. She looked for broken branches, disturbed soil, anything that might lead them to the bear killers. Unfortunately, it was a fairly popular trail and there were plenty of old and new footprints that traversed the ground. It was like looking for a particular blade of grass in dense underbrush but she refused to let the odds get her down.

They found the bear, mutilated for its parts, and Miranda felt a familiar rage for the desecration. “They ought to be drawn and quartered themselves,” she muttered, examining the evidence. Blowflies buzzed around the spilled entrails, doing their natural job within the circle of life, but the low buzz always reminded her of something else. Dead things, animal or human, emitted a certain scent signature that flies responded to. Flies had already begun to land on Simone’s battered face as her sightless eyes stared into the slate-gray skies when Trace had found her. Miranda had come upon the clearing with Trace waving away the flies from their baby sister’s face and silently crying. It was the first—and last—time she’d ever seen Trace cry.

Miranda rocked back on her heels, needing a moment. Jeremiah noticed the sudden change and looked at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

She offered a shaky laugh and waved him away. “I’m fine. Just lost my focus for a minute.” She took a step away from the carcass, careful not to disturb the area, and began looking for any clues left behind. As with the previous bear mutilations, the perpetrators had either been very brazen or they didn’t care if someone came along to find their kill. And once again, they’d left behind little to track. “Damn it.” Miranda scanned further up the trail. “Let’s tag the bear with a marker and then head up the trail a bit farther. They can’t be that far. The body is still warm.”

“You think that’s wise?” Jeremiah looked up at the sky. “The storm is coming fast.”

“You can head back if you want. But I’m not leaving—not when we’re this close.”

Jeremiah met her gaze. “You’re not going up in those mountains alone. That’s foolish. You promised me you wouldn’t do anything reckless or stupid.”