James Smith - Hybrid

“If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ll just wait to ask him myself.”

“He doesn’t know anything about your wife.”

Megan was in the front seat of the car with the window down, straining to hear what was going on.

“Miss, I don’t know who you are, but—”

“I’m a friend of the family.”

“If you really wanna know, Dr. Harmon took advantage of my wife when he delivered our colt last week. Someone has taken her away, I’m afraid that—”

“Took advantage of your wife?”

“That’s correct. I caught them. Now I could either take this to the police or talk with Dr. Harmon.”

“Can we go now, Amy,” Megan shouted from the car window.

“Just a moment, dear.” She turned back to the intruder. “You can take it up with the law, Mr. Loudermilk. But I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And why would you do that?”

“For any reason that I damn well please.” She clutched her purse tighter to her chest. Then she relaxed her right leg and shifted her weight imperceptibly over to her left, targeting his testicles.

Without a word, he shoved his hat on and walked to his truck. She followed behind, keeping between him and the Datsun. As she slipped into her car, she spotted two women hunkered down in the open bed of his truck, their faces turned away.

JoshPendleton shoveled hay with a pitchfork into a feeder. The llamas had gathered inside the open pole barn behind the trailer, jockeying for position. He was calling each by name as if they were his grandkids.

When he spotted Dieter, he put down the pitchfork and ambled over. “You’re looking upset, my friend.”

“My retriever was attacked, Josh.”

“Land o’ Goshen! Your Golden? Attacked by what?”

“No idea at the moment. But Rusty’s hanging on.”

“God forbid, I’m sorry, Doc. How bad was it?”

“Mainly lacerations around his neck.” He paused for a moment as Josh shook his head. “Did you hear about the Grizzly attack on the hikers?”

“Was all over the radio.”

“From the inside info I have,” Dieter said, “it wasn’t a Grizzly. It was a wolf.”

“How they know that?”

“From the one victim who survived.”

Bending down, Josh picked up a stalk of hay and twiddled it between his thumb and forefinger while he contemplated the new piece of evidence.

Before Josh could ask another question, Dieter blurted, “Tell me honestly, do you think there’s more than one renegade wolf causing all the havoc in the area?”

“Highly unlikely. Next to impossible is probably a better way of putting it.”

Dieter knew that would be his response before he asked it. He was leading Josh down the path he’d already blazed in his mind. “I’ve looked at a topo map. The distance between my cabin and the site where the attack took place is at least ten miles. Isn’t that too big a territory for a single renegade wolf… I mean…”

“To call home? Come with me, Doc. I’ll ‘lighten you on some things I’ve been researching.”

Dieter followed as Josh sauntered across the barn, speaking to each llama as he passed. He led the way into an enclosed nursing station in the corner of the open area and flicked on the light. A map was taped to the wall. The region around Colter was recognizable and Dieter stared at the pins with bead heads that covered a narrow swath. One pin stood out with a scrap of red tape attached.

Josh said, “That’s where they found the photographer.” He pointed at the winding Madison River near Baker’s Hole. Each of the other pins located a livestock attack he and Molly had heard about from the neighboring ranchers. Most were never reported, just complained about. The pins scattered along the Park boundary from the Jack Straw Basin south of West Yellowstone north to the Ernest Miller Ridge, a twenty-five mile stretch. Josh inspected the map, waving his finger up and down the western border of Yellowstone. “Look here, Doc. The renegade is working this area. A few miles north of Colter near the border right here would be your cabin.” He tapped on the map with his index finger.

“When Amy and I did a flyover,” Dieter said, “we spotted a massive black wolf. It was a few miles north of Colter and west of Crowfoot Ridge. If I was reading the map right, it was fairly close to Divide Lake.”

“And it’s not that far from your place,” Josh replied. “It’s where Bacon Rind Creek and the Gallatin River meet.”

Exactly! All of that was confirmation of what Dieter had already suspected. He turned and paced across the small room and back.

“I’m going looking for it, Josh.”

“Looking for what ?”

“The renegade wolf.”

Josh folded his arms across his chest. “And what do you plan to do if you find it?”

“Just want to locate it first. Then consider my options.”

“Was you thinking about shooting it?”

Dieter looked away without answering. The whole damned affair had gone on too long. The fact was that he’d dedicated his life to caring for animals and believed deeply in that calling. He’d asked himself all night long how could he ever justify twisting that philosophy around, ripping apart the very principle that had guided his life and career. He had to take action and regretted he’d put it off so long.

“That is the craziest thing you’ve thought of since I’ve known you,” Josh said. “Tell me, Doc. Have you ever spent a single day in the woods hunting?”

“I used to hunt rabbits with my dad.”

Josh tossed back his head and laughed. “With a twenty-two, I suppose. It takes more than a popgun to bring down a wolf on the run. You got only one shot and it’s got to be fatal.”

“I’m fed up with all this, Josh. Fed up living in fear for my kids, my dog. I’ve even thought about moving back to Pennsylvania. But why? Why should I leave the place I love and want to raise my children because of asses like Jack Corey. He’ll never be convinced there’s a problem.” He then paused before asking the big question. “Will you join me?”

Josh stared back at him as if it were time to knock some sense into a naïve, bred-in-the-city veterinarian. Instead, he shook his head and motioned for Dieter to follow him out of the room.

Dieter wouldn’t budge. “I’m going to do this. I made up my mind when I was stitching up Rusty’s neck.”

Josh kept moving and opened the door as he reached to turn off the light switch.

“I need your help, Josh.”

Josh stopped and glared back at Dieter, who stood planted to the floor in the dark. “I can’t believe I have to say this to a professional. But have you given any damned thought to what would happen if you got caught?”

“I don’t plan on getting caught.”

Josh switched the light back on. “You’re a stubborn cuss. That’s just one level down from a fool. Now the Lord and my llamas know that I’m tryin’ to be diplomatic here.”

“There are plenty in my past who’d call me something like that… or worse.”

“You do know, Doctor Vet, that hunting inside the Park can send you up the river? And I ain’t talking about the Yellowstone.”

Dieter broke into a big smile and said nothing.

“I’m not joking! If I was you, I’d take me serious instead of standing there grinning like a Chessy cat that just swallowed a fat mouse.”

“I never thought I’d hear an ol’ trapper talk like this. You’re acting like you never flirted with breaking the law before.”

Josh placed one hand on his hip and lowered his head. He then looked up at Dieter for a long minute while he fiddled with his beard. “I could track down and take out a wolf without leaving a trace.”