The Ridge(69)

Now she wanted that kind of help again. Wanted to take a handful of them, wanted the world to go cloudlike, soft and distant. Very distant.

She’d spoken to two different police officers, one woman who was harsh, almost accusatory, and one older man who hadn’t said much at all, just kept telling her to get comfortable, as if he were the awkward host of the world’s worst party. She’d gotten the tears and the trembling under control and was just beginning to feel some strength return when the sheriff himself stepped through the door. He wore his Stetson with the badge affixed to the crown, as if he’d just ridden in from Tombstone, and he looked at her with undisguised fury.

“Mrs. Clark,” he said, “I intend to let my department handle this investigation in the standard fashion. It’s not my job to interview you, and I won’t, though I’m damned tempted. I’m here for two reasons. The most important is out of respect for my deputy, who’s being zipped into a body bag right now. The other? I want you to know that this property is going to be closed.”

“What does that mean?” Audrey said. “Closed?”

“It means I will see this place shut down and your cats gone.”

She stared at him. In her hands was a cup of tea the other officer had insisted on making for her. He was looking at the floor now.

“I’ve tolerated this circus when I shouldn’t have,” the sheriff said. “I’ll carry that guilt for a long time, believe me. But in the last two days, two men have died because of your damned cats. If you think I won’t respond to that—”

“Someone shot Kino,” she said. “Your own officers found a bullet. They didn’t want to talk to me about it, but I know what it means. Someone came out here and shot one of my cats, and my best friend left in this world died trying to help. I know you just lost one of your own, and I’m sorry. But you need to remember that I’ve lost one of mine, too!”

Her voice was shaking, and the sheriff looked at her without a trace of emotion. When he spoke again, his voice was flat.

“It’s my understanding that the USDA handles your permitting.”

“That’s right,” she said. “And the permits are in order. They approved the new facility before—”

“They’ll be coming back out,” he said. “Along with some folks from the state wildlife agency. Along with whoever the hell else I need. I’ll find whoever it takes, and I’ll come with them.”

The door opened again, and another cop stepped through. She recognized this one. Kimble. The sheriff glanced at him, then turned back to Audrey.

“You can’t shut it down,” she said. “There are more than sixty cats who need—”

“I have no interest in the needs of your cats. I have interest in the public safety of Sawyer County. You have every right to object, and I’m sure you will. I’m just telling you the score. Don’t say you were blindsided. I intend to get these cats out of my county.”

She didn’t respond.

“As for the missing cat,” he continued, “I intend to find it. I’m having poisoned bait traps placed along the riverbed right now.”

“You can’t poison—”

He held up a hand. “You lost him, Mrs. Clark. You couldn’t handle him. When he was on your property, he was yours to care for. When he’s loose? He’s mine. I’m not worried about the cat’s health. I’m worried about the public’s.”

“Good luck getting him,” she said softly, and he flushed with rage, was halfway to a blustering response when she said, “No—I mean it. Good luck.”

He stared at her, then turned away. Said something low to Kimble and banged open the door and went outside.

“He’s hurting,” Kimble said, crossing the room to sit beside her. “We all are.”

“I understand that.”

“He’s also not wrong. Things are getting out of hand here. Do you have anyone you can contact, Mrs. Clark? Anyone who can come out here and lend some… some expertise? Experience?”

“Joe Taft,” she said. Joe owned an enormous rescue center in Indiana, the model for her own facility. Joe was as good with cats as anyone other than Wesley Harrington.

“How soon can he get here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, find out. And in the meantime, who can you have here that you trust? Really trust.”

My husband, she thought. Wes, she thought. Gone, and gone. She blinked back tears and said, “Dustin Hall is the only person qualified. Dustin and I can keep things going alone. It won’t be easy, but we can do it. I have volunteers who usually help, but right now… right now it’s probably a bad idea to have too many people out here.”