Page 101 of Three-Inch Teeth

“This is going to sound crazy,” Joe said, “but I’m convinced that an ex-con named Dallas Cates has been using the bear attacks as cover to try to kill people he blames for ruining his life—including Judge Hewitt this morning. He killed Liv Romanowski less than an hour ago at her home and I think he’s coming here.”

Bishop hesitated and said, “That does sound crazy. How’s he doing it?”

“I don’t know. Either he’s got a bear of his own or some kind of machine. It doesn’t matter—we’ll figure it out, eventually. But I’m guessing he’s coming any minute and my family is threatened.”

“Joe, are you saying that this Cates guy has figured out how to kill people and make it look like a bear did it?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I know it sounds far-fetched, but I’m convinced of it and I need your help.”

“How many subjects are with him?”

“I don’t know that, either. There’s at least two of them, including Cates.”

“What are they driving?”

Joe said, “Late-model white pickup with a topper on the back. Carbon County plates.”

“Jesus, Joe …”

“I know.”

“I can’t just issue commands to a department I’m not even in charge of. I guess I can ask Elaine …”

“Do whatever you have to do,” Joe snapped. “Just do it as fast as you can and get out here. I’ve got to get off the phone so I can be ready when they show up.”

“Man, oh man,” Bishop said. “I’m thinking …”

“My family is in the house with the lights off,” Joe said. “I’m in my toolshed at the side of the house. Don’t shoot me when you get here, okay?”

“Okay,” Bishop said. Then: “I think I’ve got everybody’s cell numbers and I can ask Ruthanne to dispatch as many deputies as we have on call.”

“That’s a good start,” Joe said. “And, Jackson, keep in mind that Cates is likely armed and dangerous. Same with whoever is with him.”

“Do you really think he has his own bear?” Bishop asked.

“I don’t know,” Joe said, exasperated. “Just hurry.”

“I’ll text you when we’re near the scene,” Bishop said.

Joe disconnected the call and placed the phone down on the workbench. There were no new messages from either Sheridan, Marybeth, or Nate.

Sheriff on the way, he texted them. Stay cool.

Sheridan responded with three more thumbs-up emojis.

*

IN THE SHADOWS of the heavy brush behind the game warden station sign on the county road, Axel Soledad felt the vibration of an incoming call on his cell phone. He was instantly annoyed. He turned his back to the road so the glow of the screen couldn’t be seen from a passing motorist.

“I told you to never call me unless it’s on a burner,” Soledad hissed through gritted teeth.

“Pickett called me direct,” Bishop said. “He knows you’re coming. He asked that we scramble some guys and get out there. He knows all about Cates.”

“Shit.”

“I can slow-walk things on my end,” Bishop said. “These rubes are completely incompetent, so that’s easy. But you might want to wrap up and get the hell out of here.”

Soledad nodded in the dark, well aware that Bishop couldn’t see him. He said, “Delay as long as you can, then wipe your phone history and don’t contact me again unless you use the encrypted app or you’ve got a burner.”

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