He called the EMTs and Doc Wallace again, assuring all the men that they would have an escort and no one would think they were trespassing, and confirming that they were en route and would be there as quickly as possible.
He called Officer Osgood, listened to the “nothing happening in the village” report, then asked the rookie to check e-mail before he clocked out, forwarding everything coming in from ITF agents and police captains to Grimshaw’s personal e-mail.
“And Osgood?” Grimshaw added. “Check the sent e-mails to confirm that Viktor did e-mail all the ITF agents. Let me know if he missed any.”
“He seems to know how to use the computers,” Osgood said.
“I know, but he’s young. Check it anyway.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ilya’s remark about not trusting anyone scratched at him. Viktor seemed like a solid baby cop in the making, but that didn’t mean the youngster wouldn’t delete an e-mail that might hold information he wouldn’t want the adults to see. And Karol was at an age when impulse control was more of an idea than a reality. Easy enough for him to do something without considering the consequences. Grimshaw hadn’t seen enough of Kira to get a feel for the girl, except to recognize she had the looks to be every teenage boy’s dream—and every father’s nightmare. But Ian’s and Michael’s concerns about what might be underneath her flirting couldn’t be dismissed. Still, she seemed to be doing well with Vicki, so he wasn’t going to rock that boat without a reason.
When he reached the car, he taped off the road and the area around the vehicle. He wasn’t going to call in a CIU team. No arrests would be made for this death. He closed the driver’s-side door to keep smaller predators from making off with bits of Peter Lynchfield, then went around to the other side and looked through the glove box for registration and insurance cards.
Registration and insurance confirmed it was Lynchfield’s car.
Glancing into the back seat, Grimshaw frowned at the shopping bags from Pops’s general store and the delivery box of wrapped sandwiches that must have come from the diner.
Had Lynchfield been making a supply run and then been lured here for some reason? Or had he picked up the food to have a legitimate reason to be away from the cabins but had intended to come to The Jumble all along?
No answers until Grimshaw could talk to the other men at the Mill Creek Cabins and see if any of them had been aware of Lynchfield’s plans—or had overheard a phone call.
A rustle of leaves. A stealthy, barely there sound.
Grimshaw eased out of the car and looked toward the trunk, resisting the urge to reach for his weapon. He didn’t shine his flashlight directly at the sound, but he picked up the gleam of eyes and then recognized the Coyote and Bobcat. He didn’t think either of them would actively hunt a human, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t take advantage of meat when it was easily available—especially when the days were getting shorter and the nights colder.
“I need this body to stay the way it is,” he said. “We’ll be moving it out in a little while, once we take care of some things up at the house.” He waited, certain they had intended to make off with a meaty rib or two. “There’s some human food in these bags that will go to waste if someone doesn’t eat it. You should take it up to the house and have Miss Vicki and Ilya look it over for anything that might not sit well with you folks.”
“Hookay,” Bobcat said.
Grimshaw pulled the bags and box out of the car, handed them over, and watched the two terra indigene head for the house. Then he closed the car doors and wrapped yellow tape around the vehicle. Wouldn’t stop anyone from tearing the tape and taking parts of the body, but he hoped enough of the Others were familiar with police investigating now to respect a taped-off area—or be more curious about what the police would do than about the body inside the car.
As he circled the car a second time, he wondered about the big rock on the road. He didn’t remember needing to swerve around it when he’d driven up to the main house on previous visits.
His light reflected off something shiny. More than one bit of shiny.
Examining the ground around the rock, Grimshaw realized the rock hadn’t been there even a few hours ago. Someone had picked it up and dropped it on Peter Lynchfield’s camera.
CHAPTER 46
Ilya
Watersday, Novembros 3
Why these four youngsters? Why send them here? Why now? How does their presence connect with a being the Elders around Lake Silence refer to as a Hunter?
Thoughts about the fosterlings in his care kept circling as Ilya helped Victoria unpack the shopping bags and box that Coyote and Bobcat had brought up to the house.
“Not even one eyeball?” Jozi said plaintively. “The dead human doesn’t need it.”
“Couldn’t have any of the meat either,” Coyote growled. “Grimshaw Chief traded bags of food for the meat. Does he always trade food for dead meat?” This was spoken on a hopeful note.
Ilya ignored the question, not wanting to encourage the idea of terra indigene dragging dead humans to the police station with the expectation of receiving a bag of groceries. Taking recently dead from the funeral home to trade for other kinds of food would be just as upsetting to Sproing’s residents as having someone deliver freshly dead to the police—especially if there had been some nibbling before delivery.
“Dead human doesn’t taste as good as rabbit or vole,” Bobcat said. “But they are easier to catch.”
Seeing the way Victoria’s hands trembled and hearing the change in her breathing, Ilya said, <Discussing humans as meat is upsetting Victoria.>
The three shifters looked abashed to have forgotten that Victoria was the same species as the meat under discussion.
“What are those?” Kira asked.
Ilya had the impression the girl would have stood closer to Victoria and asked more questions if he hadn’t been in the kitchen with them. With him present, she was trying to balance curiosity with respectful distance from the human to avoid instinctively shifting a hand to partial smoke and doing some unintentional feeding.
If he hadn’t been there, would the feeding have been unintentional? Was there something calculated about her interactions with Victoria—and with him—or was he forgetting how females that age presented themselves? Was there something about Kira that pricked at his predatory instincts, or was he reacting to the uneasiness about the girl felt by the Sterns? Or was he suspicious and on edge about everything because of the pressure to find answers and end the contamination that had brought a Hunter into his territory?
Victoria held out the container from the diner. “These are deep-fried potato sticks. They’re usually served hot, or at least warm, and you can dip them in ketchup or some other condiment.”