Amy sat waiting for Megan to put on her clothes and wondering why Dieter had to rush away so fast. She helped Megan gather her things while chatting about a picnic they were planning and the horses they’d be riding. Without question she was going to miss both of the kids once in California. They had fun times together during the summer and she never considered her duties for the family a chore. But she had to admit that a feeling of guilt for leaving town was creeping up on her. She needed to sit down with Molly so the two of them could brainstorm how to help Dieter find a good nanny. That was the least she could do before leaving town and she owed it to the kids.
As Megan struggled to hold close a stuffed dog, Amy picked up the miniature pink suitcase and opened the cabin door.
She stopped.
A tall man with a straw hat and a patch of long hair decorating his chin stood on the front porch as if he had been waiting for her. “I didn’t mean to startle you, ma’am.” He removed his hat, revealing a baldhead and eyes buried by age and scorn.
She grabbed Megan’s hand. “What do you want?” She didn’t have a gun in her purse or car. Wrong time to remember the warnings her dad had given her over the years. She mentally measured the distance between the porch and her Datsun. How to make a quick getaway with Megan?
“I was looking for Dr. Harmon, ma’am.”
“He’s coming right behind us. What is it that—”
“But, Amy—” Megan began.
“Now, honey, let’s get these things in the car. You’re daddy’s coming.”
“I’ll just wait right here for him,” the stranger said.
“He’s still dressing. May I tell him what this is about?”
“It’s about my wife. She’s missing.”
“Take this, Megan, and go on to the car.” Megan looked up at her, scowling, then grappled with the bag of clothes and stuffed dog she held under her arms.
“I didn’t catch your name, sir.”
“Loudermilk. Joseph Vincent Loudermilk.”
Amy swallowed and tried not to let the look on her face give away her shock. She held out her hand. “Amy Little Bear.”
He shook it awkwardly. “I believe Dr. Harmon may know something about the whereabouts of my wife.”
What is this guy talking about? “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mr. Loudermilk.”
“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.
FORTY-TWO
Josh Pendleton 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.