Page 72 of Three-Inch Teeth

“He is,” Joe said.

“I rolled him over from his back to his belly, which is something I probably shouldn’t have done,” Carroll said. “But when I saw that he was still breathing, I was afraid he’d choke to death on his own blood. He had a wound right here”—the deputy indicated the right side of his own neck—“and it was pouring out blood.”

“You probably did the right thing,” Joe said.

Carroll nodded, but he was obviously unsure that he had.

“I hope he makes it,” Carroll said. “If I’d been two minutes earlier, I might have been able to take a shot at that damned grizzly and saved the guy’s life.”

“I’m more interested in the taillights you saw,” Joe said. “Tell me, do you patrol the club every morning?”

Carroll looked away and Joe noted the tell.

“Not every day,” he said.

“When you do, are there any vehicles about? Especially now, when the place is closed?”

“I never see anyone,” Carroll said. “It’s too early, I think.”

“Have you ever seen Judge Hewitt out on his walk before?”

Carroll hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I’ll be honest,” he said. “I wasn’t really patrolling. I was going to sneak out here and catch a couple of big trout out of Lake Joseph. I was hoping to get in and get out in time for the end of my shift.”

That brought a snigger from the town cop and a smile from the other deputy.

Joe said, “I assume you have a fishing license.”

Carroll’s face went pale, which Joe took as his answer.

“We can worry about that later,” Joe said. “Let’s retrace your steps when you found the judge.”

Carroll led the way. Joe followed him.

*

GARY NORWOOD AND Jackson Bishop joined them as they crossed the cart path above the bloodstains and approached the stand of trees and brush adjacent to it.

“Please don’t charge in there,” Norwood said while taking the lens cap off his camera. “I haven’t processed the area yet.”

“Let’s get it taped off first,” Bishop said.

As if already taking orders from the inevitable new sheriff-to-be, Carroll and another deputy responded. They tied off one end of the yellow crime scene tape to the trunk of a tree on the side of the opening and extended it out and around the bloody path.

Joe stepped back to let them secure the tape to plastic posts that had been driven into the ground.

“I’d bet he never saw it coming,” Joe said to Bishop while studying the shadowed opening in the trees.

The stand was hollowed out in the middle and the floor was a carpet of crushed twigs and pine needles. Foliage surrounded it on three sides and over the top. It was a perfect place for a bear to hide and wait for prey, Joe thought. It looked like a cave opening.

“This is really bad,” Bishop said, standing next to Joe. “Judge Hewitt was showing me the ropes around here during my run for sheriff. He’s my main man here in Twelve Sleep County. My sponsor, so to speak. Plus, he’s my father-in-law.”

“Yup,” Joe said.

“I hope he makes it.”

“We all do,” Joe said.

Bishop turned to Carroll and said, “Good work, Deputy.”

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