Page 100 of Three-Inch Teeth

“Got it, Joe,” Marybeth said with fake cheer from inside the tent blanket. She obviously didn’t want to alarm Kestrel in any way and make her cry out.

Joe felt his phone chime in his hand and he looked down at the screen, both hoping and fearing that it would be Nate.

Instead, it was a text from Sheridan, who was ten feet away.

“I started a text thread between you, me, and Mom,” Sheridan said. “That way we’re all on the same page.”

“Smart,” Joe said.

“Dad,” Sheridan said, “if you text us, don’t worry about misspelled words or punctuation for once in your life. That’ll take too long.”

Joe nodded, duly chastened. “Got it,” he said.

As he padded down the hallway toward the back door, Joe could hear Kestrel identifying an owl and Marybeth praising the child once again.

*

AFTER LOCKING THE back door behind him, Joe covered the ground from the house to his work shed in short mincing steps so he wouldn’t trip over anything in the dark. His headlamp was off. Even though he hadn’t seen or heard an oncoming vehicle in the trees, he didn’t want to be spotted if someone was lurking in the shadows of the heavy timber.

Although he normally enjoyed the location of their state-owned home in a private and heavily wooded alcove of river cottonwoods with the river to the west, it bothered him that he wouldn’t be able to see a visitor coming until they were less than a hundred yards away. The heavy brush and timber also muted sound, as did the musical flow of the river.

He eased the door of the shed open and stepped inside and placed his Remington Wingmaster twelve-gauge shotgun on the workbench. He’d loaded it with double-aught rounds and he jacked one into the receiver so it was ready. Double-aught buckshot was devastatingly effective at close range, with nine large-caliber pellets capable of penetrating car doors if necessary.

Because Sheridan had arrived via the two-track river road from the Yarak, Inc. compound instead of the county road, she’d arrived at least ten minutes faster. If Cates was coming by the more conventional route, he could show up at any minute.

Joe drew out his phone.

I’m in the shed with good views of the house and the road. Is everything okay in there?

Before he sent it, he recalled Sheridan’s admonition and changed it to:

I’m outside. Everything OK?

She instantly responded with a thumbs-up emoji.

*

JOE GAVE IT a few minutes to simply keep watch and let his heartbeat calm down so he could listen for approaching vehicles. It was a cold night and his breath puffed into clouds of condensation near his mouth and nose. He slipped on a thin pair of gloves so that his fingers wouldn’t go stiff in the chill.

Assured that all was quiet outside, he raised his right hand and used his teeth to remove the glove. He needed help with the situation, and he needed it as fast as he could get it.

He tried once again to connect with Nate and once again there was no response. Instead of leaving a message, he sent a text:

Liv was attacked and killed at your home. Kestrel is safe with us. Come as fast as you can.

Then Joe stared at the glowing screen of his phone for a moment, trying to figure out what he was going to do next. Call dispatch in Cheyenne and request assistance from any available law enforcement personnel in the vicinity? He discarded the idea quickly. His home was remote and it might take more time to explain the exact situation he was in to the responding officers than he thought he had.

He quickly ruled out calling either Elaine Beveridge or Ruthanne Hubbard. They’d want him to explain and justify his request, and he could only imagine how skeptical they’d be about his theories that the killings were caused by a man and not a bear. Plus, he didn’t want to have to detail who Dallas Cates was and their long history together.

So he punched up Jackson Bishop’s personal number and activated a call. It rang twice.

“Undersheriff Jackson Bishop,” the man said in a clipped tone. “What can I do for you, Joe?”

Joe was grateful he’d connected with the likely next sheriff of Twelve Sleep County. Bishop exuded calm authority.

“I need you and as many guys as you can round up to come to the game warden station right away,” Joe said.

“I know where it is. What’s going on?”

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