The Kingdom

“I beg your pardon?”

“Where’s the money coming from?” he demanded.

I didn’t see how the financial arrangements could possibly be any of his business. “I’m sorry. You seem a little concerned about this project. Is there some problem, Officer…” I glanced at the name tag clipped to his uniform pocket. Wayne Van Zandt.

“It’s chief,” he said in a cool tone.

“I assure you, all of the permits are in order…Chief Van Zandt.”

He made a dismissive gesture that was at once graceful and oddly menacing. “I’m not concerned about permits. What I do care about is how people are going to react. Feelings still run strong about that cemetery.”

“So I hear. And that’s why I came to see you. I don’t want to cause any problems for you or the community. I’d just like to do my work in peace.”

His mouth tightened, emphasizing his disfigurement. “It might help me keep the peace if I know who’s behind it.”

I thought about that for a moment and nodded. Maybe he had a point. “The local historical society is funding the project.”

“Historical society?”

“The Daughters of our Valiant Heroes.”

He stared at me for a moment. “You think Daughters is a historical society?”

“Isn’t it?”

He laughed.

I didn’t get the joke. Chief Van Zandt obviously had a chip on his shoulder, and considering what he must have been through, I was empathetic enough to cut him some slack. “I won’t take up any more of your time. If you do get calls or have any questions, you know where to find me. Oh, and one more thing.” I stepped back up to the desk. “I saw a man in the cemetery this morning. He was acting pretty strange.”

“Like how?”

“When he saw me, he slithered under the fence and crawled off into the bushes.”

A brow rose. “Slithered?”

“Slithered, wiggled, whatever you want to call it. I saw him later hauling a dead animal down the hill in a child’s wagon.”

He shrugged. “Sounds a mite peculiar, but these mountains are full of odd folk. Mostly, they just want to be left alone. Some of them don’t see another living soul for months at a time, and when they finally emerge, they don’t know how to act.”

“You think he’s a hermit?”

“I think some weirdo with a little red wagon is the last thing you need to be worried about in these hills.” His pleasant voice was now edged with something that sounded very much like a warning. Or was it a threat?

“What do you mean?”

“The woods around here are full of wild animals…” He let his words trail off, a deliberate lingering as he traced a finger down one of his scars.

“What kind of wild animals?”

“Mountain lions, coyotes…” Another hesitation. “Been a lot of black bear sightings this year, too.”

I glanced at his facial scars. I couldn’t help myself. “Black bears don’t normally attack humans, do they?”

“Animals are unpredictable. You ask the experts, they’ll tell you wolves have been gone from this part of the country for decades, but they’re still out there. I’ve seen them.”

I thought about that eerie howl I’d heard last evening. “Speaking of animals,” I said, “I’m staying in Floyd Covey’s house. A stray came out of the woods last night. He’d been horribly abused. Luna called him a bait dog.”

“She did, did she?” He stroked another scar. “Best you forget what she said. Best you forget about that stray, too.”

“I can’t forget about dog fighting,” I said indignantly. “I assumed if it’s going on in your jurisdiction, you’d want to know about it.”

He shrugged. “I’ll ask around, see if I get wind of any kennels. About all I can do. People tend to be closemouthed about that sort of thing around here, even if they’re not directly involved. They don’t want any trouble. And they don’t cotton to a lot of questions, especially from strangers.”

The warning note in his voice was unmistakable now. “I’ll remember that,” I said coolly.

“In the meantime…” His gaze swept over me. “You want me to come out there and take care of that problem for you?”

“What problem?”

“The stray.”

“Take care…you mean put him down?” I asked in horror.

A muscle twitched at the corner of one eye. “Think of it as a kindness.”

I wanted to tell him that Angus didn’t need his brand of kindness, and how would he like it if someone had tried to do the same to him?

But I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t trust Wayne Van Zandt. Not in the slightest. It was instinct, like an animal’s hackles rising when danger was near.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” I said. “I’m sure that dog is long gone by now.”

Seven

On my way home, I stopped by a small market I’d spotted earlier to stock up on fresh produce for me and dog food for Angus. There wasn’t much of a selection for either of us, but we’d just have to make do until I found time to take the ferry across the lake to shop.

When I came out of the store, I saw Sidra and another girl standing near my car. They were dressed in identical school uniforms, but the resemblance ended with the plaid skirts and navy blazers. The other girl towered over Sidra. Her hair was dark and sleek and she eyed me with sullen curiosity through a long curtain of bangs. I nodded and said hello as I went to put my bags in the back. When I came around the car, she was leaning against the fender, smoking. I noticed then the smudged liner around her eyes and the pale lip color on her sulky mouth. It looked very dramatic against her tanned skin. Despite the prim uniform, she looked cool, edgy and bored, the kind of girl that would have terrified me in high school had I not been so preoccupied with ghosts.

“Can you give us a ride?” she drawled, releasing a cloud of blue smoke that curled up into her thick lashes.

“Sure. If you don’t mind putting that out.”

She discarded the cigarette with a deliberate flick.

I glanced at Sidra, who seemed to shy away from her dominant companion. She didn’t look intimidated or cowed, but her demeanor was definitely anxious, as if she wanted to extricate herself from an awkward situation but didn’t know how.

“Where do you want to go?” I asked.

“You can drop us at Sid’s place.”