P. Parrish - Claw Back

Louis knew that Mobley had reached a détente with the Seminole police chief and Keno had gone back to the reservation. No charges had been filed by anyone or against anyone.

“I know it bothers you that he got away with it,” Katy said. “But you need to understand why he did it.”

“Katy — ”

She held up a hand. “I want to tell you.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I left the rez when I was twenty so I didn’t know much about him but Moses told me what I am telling you. Hachi’s mother died when he was very young and in the tribe your social place is counted only through your mother’s side. He was taken in by my great aunt Betty’s family even though she is of a different clan. Hachi was a lonely kid. Even after the ceremony — ”

She stopped to look at Louis. “The Seminoles have a special ceremony to recognize a boy’s entrance to manhood. Even after that, he couldn’t seem to find his place. He didn’t really belong to anyone or anything.”

“Lots of people don’t fit in,” Louis said. “But they don’t commit crimes.”

“But in his mind it wasn’t a crime.”

“So why’d he go after the panthers?”

Katy let out a sigh. “It’s complicated. The tribe has doctors but they also still have shamans.”

“What, like medicine men?” Louis asked.

She nodded. “They use plants and animal parts to treat our people. They are important in our ceremonies and are very respected in the tribe. Hachi wanted to go to medical school but didn’t even make it through high school so he decided he was going to become a medicine man.”

“You just become a medicine man?”

“No, and that was the problem. Shamans are chosen and trained from boyhood.”

Louis was quiet, watching the sunset. “You said something back at the shack about Keno wanting to use the panther to help your aunt. Is that what this was all about?”

“Yes,” Katy said quietly. “He believed that if he could get the placenta of a mother panther he could use it to cure Aunt Betty’s sickness. That’s why he tried to take Bruce, to mate with Grace. But then he realized Grace was already pregnant. And he came to get me to help.”

Louis shook his head. “I have to ask, Katy. Is he mentally ill?”

She sighed. “No, just lost. And desperate to help Aunt Betty, to stop something no one can stop.”

They fell silent. The sun was hovering just above the horizon as the sky began its slow kaleidoscopic color shift.

Katy leaned forward, drawing her finger through the sand to make two intersecting lines.

“What’s that?” Louis asked.

“The world,” she said.

“I thought the world was round?”

“This is the world of man’s two souls.”

“I thought we only had one.”

In the waning light he saw her smile. “Humor me,” she said.

“Okay, go ahead.”

“The Seminoles believe we all have two souls,” she said. “The first one is the one that leaves our bodies when we die. The second one, the ghost soul, leaves the body when we dream and it sort of just wanders around until we wake up.”

“I’ve had nights like that,” Louis said.

“Well, our dream soul needs to travel to the north, but sometimes it gets lost and goes across the solopi heni. That’s our word for the Milky Way, the road that leads to the west. The west is where the dead souls go. If a ghost soul wanders into the west then when the person wakes up their ghost soul is forever sick.”

She brushed the sand from her hands. “That’s what happened to Hachi.”

Louis was staring down at the lines in the sand. “Do we all go north in our dreams?”

She looked over at him and smiled. “Yes. The north is the place of happiness.”

Louis was quiet. A sudden breeze blew in from the water, cool and smelling of rain. Far out over the gulf, a zigzag of lightning lit up the purple clouds then it was dark again.

“It’s getting late,” Katy said. “I better go.”

“Want to go get a burger or something?” Louis asked.

“I can’t. I’m going over to see my aunt. And I want to talk to Moses about working part time on the reservation.”

“Really? Doing what?”

“They can use a good vet.” She paused. “I want to get back inside. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Louis said. “Yeah, I do.”

Louis stopped at the glass doors to the county building and squinted at his reflection.

Not bad for an off-the-rack Dilliard’s clearance suit. It fit him perfectly, though he knew it wouldn’t have six months ago before he started working out. He had hit for a Ferragamo blue tie and crisp white shirt to go with the charcoal gray suit. He looked like he could be going to a job interview or a funeral.

He wished he knew which one it was going to be.

Louis yanked open the door and was met inside by icy air and a cacophony of voices. Suits and deputies were everywhere and radio traffic echoed through the tiled halls.

It had been almost a week since he had found Grace. Mobley had finally called him at seven this morning, waking Louis from a sound sleep.

He expected Mobley would grudgingly concede the job, saying something like “It’s a done deal. Come in later to start your paperwork.”

But he hadn’t said that. He said something else.

We need to talk. My office. Two sharp.

Louis had crawled out of bed and sat there for a minute, his hopes slowly dying as he started to question the reasons for Mobley’s terse phone call.

There was a chance Mobley was just screwing with him again. Making him wait, making him hold his breath. Mobley had already said he had done a good job, and the sheriff’s photo with the kittens had been picked up by newspapers as far away as Arizona. How could Mobley not give him this job?

But it might not be completely up to Mobley. Maybe there were other hoops to jump through, other people Louis had to face. The undersheriff. The lawyers handling the EEOC lawsuits Mobley was facing. Maybe even the county board of supervisors who probably weren’t too eager to let Mobley hire a P.I. whose face had been on the cover of “Criminal Pursuits” magazine.

Which is why Louis had gone to Dilliard’s this morning and bought the suit he couldn’t afford and shined his only pair of dress shoes with a banana peel, a trick he had learned in the academy.

If he was going to stand up before a firing squad at least he’d look good.

Mobley’s reception area was empty. Ginger’s desk looked abandoned. Photos, the pink ceramic pen holder and the plants on her credenza were gone. So was her nameplate.

The office door opened and Mobley came out. His eyes swept over Louis. “Nice threads. What happened to your old blazer?” he asked.

“Don’t ask.”

Mobley didn’t smile but his eyes showed a hint of amusement as he led Louis into the office. It was ice cold, the force of the air conditioner rattling the closed blinds. Mobley’s desk was stacked with folders and papers. His inbox had overflowed into the empty outbox. The trashcan was stuffed. A pile of newspapers covered his back shelf.

“Sorry for the mess,” Mobley said. “I’m short-handed.”

“Where’s Ginger?” Louis asked.

“She got promoted.”

“To what?”

Mobley had to think for a minute. “Executive Director of Compliance for Fair and Equal Employment Opportunities in Law Enforcement Environments.”

“Sounds like a lawyer’s job.”

“She is a lawyer,” Mobley said. “Passed the bar last month.”

Louis had always assumed Ginger was another of Mobley’s empty-headed bimbos. He did that too often, he realized, assuming things. He had made assumptions about Katy, about Indians, about hunters and even about panthers. None proved accurate.