William Bernhardt - Dark Justice

Green Rage, that’s who.

She knew that the police had arrested the leader of the group and charged him with the murder. But she didn’t believe he was guilty; he didn’t look anything like the person in the Sasquatch suit. The height and weight were all wrong. The police were just latching onto the obvious suspect, as they always did. They were assuming the bomb had been planted in advance, that it was part of a Green Rage terrorist strike, that the logger had just had the misfortune to be the person who turned the ignition that night.

Tess knew better. She knew the killer had been there all along, including when the bomb was triggered. She knew the two men had fought. She didn’t know what they had fought about, but given the circumstances, it seemed more than reasonable to assume it had something to do with the destruction of the national forest.

She pushed herself off the bed, grabbed her notebook, and started making plans.

Somehow she would have to infiltrate Green Rage. The only way to learn what she wanted to know would be to gain their confidence, their trust. If she could get them talking, she might uncover the clues she needed.

Of course she would, she told herself. She was a reporter, wasn’t she? A real reporter.

But to do this, she would have to venture outside. And longer than it took to get to the video store, too.

But what could happen to her? She had just been silly, hadn’t she? Paranoid? After all, she had nothing on the killer, whoever he was. He or she. There was no reason to go after her. Hell, the creep probably never even saw her face.

Probably.

She laughed, trying to convince herself. Probably didn’t have the slightest idea who she was.

Probably.

Enough. She was going to do this. No one and nothing was going to stop her. This might be the last chance she had to make the Pulitzer committee sit up and take notice. Or at least to get a job she didn’t have to lie about when she called her mother. She wasn’t going to let it pass her by.

Her eye moved unbidden to the draped window. She wasn’t going to blow this opportunity, damn it. She wasn’t.

No matter what the consequences.

Sasquatch peered through his binoculars at the draped window of the Holiday Inn room. Of course, the Sasquatch getup was not being worn at the moment, but the brain behind the mask had begun to think in those terms. It seemed a good label. Or perhaps-The Artist Formerly Known as Sasquatch.

After the night of the murder, after the woman escaped, Sasquatch had paced the streets of the city, but after several days without spotting her, he became convinced she must have fled town. What a relief it was, then, to see that familiar face strolling out of a video store this afternoon.

And how grim to see her toting a VCR. Sasquatch didn’t have to be a genius to figure out what that was for. She had been carrying a video camera; it was the main reason Sasquatch had charged her. If anyone studied it closely-well, best not to even think about it.

Sasquatch had to get that tape. And her, too.

Sasquatch folded the binoculars and tucked them into a coat pocket. Best not to attract any attention. Best to keep a low profile. Best not to let anyone draw a connection between Sasquatch and that woman, whoever she was.

Because there was a good chance Sasquatch was going to have to kill her.

Ben was not having a good night. He had always been a vivid dreamer, but tonight’s show was even more vivid than usual. Some of the dreams were standard-issue material: showing up in court in his underwear; being seduced by his childhood babysitter. But some of them were new: seeing his old Episcopal Sunday-school teacher shaking her head in disappointment; being tried in the Court of Celestial Appeals for murder-the murder of hundreds of thousands of old-growth trees. He even dreamed he’d been thrown into jail and was thrashing about on a rock-hard metal cot. Except-

His eyes opened.

Damn. That one was true, wasn’t it?

“I knew you were looking for a new pied-a-terre, Ben, but I really think you should have consulted me before you made this selection.”

The voice was very familiar. Even before he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, Ben knew who was standing on the other side of the metal bars.

“Good morning, Christina. About time you showed up.”

“Hey, I made the best time I could. I booked the first available flight tout de suite , after I played your rather desperate-sounding message on my machine.”

“You’d be desperate, too, if you got only one phone call and you used it chatting with someone’s answering machine.” He peered blurry-eyed through the cell bars. She was wearing an all-combat ensemble-green fatigue pants with a flak jacket draped over a khaki shirt. Plus a kelly green hairband in her expansive red hair. “I thought you were trying to dress more conservatively. Now that you’re a serious law student.”

She checked herself. “What’re you talking about? This is conservative. Besides, you’re the one who dragged me out to the great Northwest. Everyone dresses this way.”

“Maybe in the Montana Militia, but not around here.” He forced himself to his feet. “Have you figured out a way to make my bail?”

“I figured out it was impossible, even if we sold both our combined assets for twice their worth. So I tried something else.”

“Which was?”

“Getting the bookstore owner to drop the charges.”

“Fat chance of that. He’s-”

“-already agreed to do it.”

Ben’s eyes widened. “He’s-”

“-already agreed.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Would I lie?”

“But-”

“The only thing that man ever wanted was to get rid of the cat. Unfortunately, after you made such a cause celebre of it, the vet canceled the appointment, and none of the other vets in the area would euthanize the cat either.”

“Tough luck.”

“So I told him I’d take care of it. If he dropped the charges. Which he did.”

Ben was flabbergasted. “Christina, you’re a miracle worker. I’m eternally in your debt.”

She smiled. “Truth is, he was beginning to feel guilty. He was glad to let someone else execute the cat for him.”

Ben blanched. “Christina, you didn’t!”

“No, of course I didn’t.”

“Then what?”

“I called an old friend of mine from TCC who knew a gal who had a sister whose husband was from Seattle. The husband in Seattle had a friend whose niece lives in a tiny burg not far from Magic Valley. The niece has a girlfriend who knows a girl from college who’s getting married. The girl who’s getting married is the youngest of seven daughters, and once she moves out, her mother’s going to be all alone in her house. The mother lives in Magic Valley. She agreed to take the cat.” She beamed. “Follow that?”

“Not remotely, but please don’t repeat it. My head is already throbbing.” He took a step back. “And you did all that in a day?”

“Well, I would’ve been faster, but the air phones on my flight didn’t work.”

Ben grinned. No wonder he liked Christina so much. In the years they’d been working together, she’d proved invaluable. She was a brilliant legal assistant, and now that she was in law school, she could function equally well as an intern and legal researcher. Most important, he had learned to trust her instincts. She was keenly intuitive and had a better understanding of people than he ever would. And now, for the capstone of her career to date, she’d produced his get-out-of-jail-free card.

“When can I leave?”

Another voice harkened down the corridor. “Whenever you want, Mr. Kincaid.”

Sheriff Allen was moving toward them.