Page 87 of Three-Inch Teeth

“Yup.”

“We can talk about it later. Maybe when Sheridan gets back. I know you’d prefer she wasn’t involved,” Marybeth said. “But she’s the one who brought this to us.”

He groaned.

“I have a suggestion for when you go out to the club with Gary.”

“Yes?”

“Take Nate along with you,” she said. “I can tell that you’re much more married to your grizzly behavior theories than mine, and that’s okay. But who do we know who can actually get into the heads of alpha predators more than Nate?”

It was true, Joe knew. And it was something he could never explain or rationalize. Joe never talked about Nate’s unique gift to anyone but Marybeth. He knew that no one in his world of wildlife biologists and professionals would believe him.

“Gary can find bear prints if they’re at the scene,” Marybeth said, “but only Nate can get into the mind of a grizzly bear. He’d be good to have along.”

“Agreed,” Joe said. “And having his .454 Casull at the ready isn’t so bad, either. Especially if that grizzly has decided to hang around.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Eagle Mountain Club

NATE WAS VERY pleased with himself as he rappelled down the cliff face near the Staghorn Creek campground. He’d caught and hooded two young peregrines that had flown into his bow net traps during the day, and the birds lay calm and inert in a mesh bag attached to his harness. The hoods had calmed them down immediately, which was important, because they could have injured themselves or broken off feathers by thrashing in his hands.

He was interrupted when he felt the phone in his breast pocket vibrate with an incoming call.

Nate drew the phone out to see a square-jawed graphic of Dudley Do-Right on the screen. Dudley Do-Right had been depicted in the cartoons of his youth as conscientious, cheerful, and somewhat dim-witted.

“Hey, Joe,” he said.

“Hey, Nate. Where are you?”

“Staghorn Creek. I caught two peregrines today and Sheridan will be beside herself when she sees them. They are great young birds.”

When Joe paused too long, Nate said, “Don’t worry. I’ll file all the proper paperwork on them at some point. I always do.”

“You never do,” Joe growled.

“Anyway, you called for a reason,” Nate prompted.

“I did. Hey, I could use your help if you’ve got the time. I’m headed back to the Eagle Mountain Club and I’m waiting for Gary Norwood to get freed up so he can process the crime scene. I was hoping you could join me.”

“Is that where Judge Hewitt got whacked this morning?” Nate asked.

“Yup.”

“I’m not sure I can provide much help, to be honest. I don’t process crime scenes, Joe. I create them.”

“Very funny. We don’t know the current location of our bear right now and I could use your help keeping lookout. Plus, there are some strange things going on around here. Oh, and it was Marybeth’s suggestion,” Joe said.

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Nate asked while quickly freeing the climbing rope from the belay device and plummeting down the face of the cliff. “When do you need me there?”

“See you in an hour.”

*

IT WAS DUSK when Joe and Nate observed Norwood pulling on a pair of nitrile gloves before entering the hollow in the trees. Nate arrived after the others once he’d secured his two new acquisitions in the mews at his compound and fed them. Deputy Frank Carroll showed up last.

“There was just an arrest on that drive-by,” Norwood reported. “But it sounds kind of hinky to me.”

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