Page 88 of Three-Inch Teeth

“Me too,” Carroll added.

“Why?” Joe asked. He’d heard nothing about an arrest on the mutual aid channel over his under-dash radio.

Carroll said, “The highway patrol spotted a white SUV with California plates on I-25 headed south with two subjects, a young male and female. The subjects refused to cooperate, and they were arrested for resisting. When the troopers searched the SUV they found twenty pounds of weed.

“But no gun,” Carroll added. “And no way to tie them to cruising around Saddlestring this morning. The troopers will sweat the suspects and try to get them to turn on each other. And we’ll check all the cameras in town to try and put them there, but I think it’ll all turn out to be a false alarm. Elaine and Ruthanne took off to Kaycee to help with the interrogation.”

“Probably not a good idea,” Joe said.

“Elaine Beveridge wants them to be the shooters so bad,” Norwood said. “She wants this thing to be over, but I think she’s in over her head.”

“Jackson Bishop tried to tell her to calm down and not make any announcements until we know for sure,” Carroll said, “but she wouldn’t listen to him. She was all over social media this afternoon saying we found the perps who did this.”

“Not good,” Norwood said. Then to Joe: “I think Bishop might actually be a good sheriff if he wins. He seems like a straight shooter.”

Joe nodded, acknowledging Norwood’s sentiment.

“But you’re not sure yet?” Norwood asked Joe.

“I’ve learned to wait and watch,” Joe said.

“Enough with the local politics,” Nate said. “Let’s get this over with.”

*

A FEW MINUTES later, Norwood entered the shadowed alcove with his evidence bag. Joe and Carroll watched from the cart path and Nate moved into the trees twenty yards north to watch and listen. The forensics tech stayed near the base of the tree trunks on the northern wall so he wouldn’t trample the soil in the middle.

As was his habit, Norwood called out what he saw into a digital recorder that hung from a lanyard around his neck.

“I’m entering the hole in the trees from the direction of the golf cart path,” he said. “The opening is about ten feet wide and twelve to fifteen feet deep.”

Norwood’s camera clicked and whirred as he snapped a stream of photos.

“I don’t see bear tracks on the ground at first glance,” Norwood said. “And I don’t see bear scat or hair, either. I need to comb every inch in here.”

Joe saw the interior of the alcove light up as Norwood turned on his headlamp.

“There appears to be some bark on the floor of the opening. That’s weird.” Then Norwood backed halfway out and rocked back on his haunches. He looked straight up. Joe followed his gaze and noticed an overhanging tree branch with damage to it. The branch looked partially skinned and pale on its underside.

“Bark is missing from the branch, but I don’t know whether the bear clawed it or what,” Norwood said. “I don’t see any claw marks.”

With that, Norwood photographed the branch from several angles, then squatted back down and lit up the floor of the hollow with a flashlight. Joe watched the beam move methodically across the surface of the mulch and he heard Norwood say, “Hmmm. This is goofy, too.”

“What’s goofy?” Joe asked.

“Like I said, I don’t see any signs of a bear. This ground is pretty soft and you’d think there would be impressions of its paws, right? But that’s not what I see.”

“So what do you see?” Carroll asked impatiently.

“Tire tracks,” Norwood said. “Two sets of fresh tire tracks that crushed down the pine needles. That, and boot prints.”

His camera clicked a few dozen times while Joe held his breath and considered the implications of what Norwood was reporting. It was mind-boggling.

“How do you know they’re boot tracks?” Carroll asked.

“Because the heels make deep impressions and the toes are squared off,” Norwood said. “You know, like the cowboy boots they wear these days.”

“This makes no sense,” Carroll said. “Are you saying somebody drove a bear here in the back of their truck and let it go on Judge Hewitt?”

---