“Did he say why he was hunting in this particular area?” asked Jamison, who was now kneeling down and more closely examining the ground where the body had lain.
“He told me he’d been tracking it the last three nights. He drew up a range of places to check, based on the animal’s hunting pattern. I hunt too, but not like Hal. He’s a real pro. Can track anything anywhere. He said this quadrant was a likely spot to pick the wolf up based on that analysis. He’d been at it about two hours before he caught sight of the thing and took his kill shot.”
“Are we sure it was the same wolf that had attacked the cattle?”
“Yeah, they found some of the remains of the animals in its belly.”
“Were there any tracks around Cramer’s body? Foot or car tire or anything like that?”
“We did check for that but the problem was a heavy rain had started up right when Hal found the body. If there were any tracks, they got washed away when that happened.”
“And Parker didn’t mention seeing any before the rain hit?” asked Decker.
“No. And that’s the other reason I don’t think there were any. The guy’s a seasoned hunter and tracker. If there had been any, he would have spotted them and told us.”
“So the fact that the body was untouched by animals could be because it was dumped here shortly before Parker found it, like you suggested previously, Decker,” said Jamison. “So we might have lucked out there.”
“And the wolf might have been in this area because it caught the scent of the dead body,” added Kelly. “But that doesn’t explain the insect infestation.”
Decker said, “She could have been kept somewhere else, where flies and insects could have gotten to her but animals couldn’t have.”
“But why would the killer bother doing that?” asked Kelly.
“He might want to screw with the timing of death, which would make our job harder. And if there was something inside her that he wanted to get, that would have taken time and he couldn’t cut her open while she was alive. At least I hope he didn’t.”
Jamison said, “Was anyone else around to see or hear anything?”
Kelly shook his head. “No, just Hal. Doubt there was another living person anywhere near here at that time of night.”
“How far away does Parker live?” asked Decker.
“About forty-five minutes from here.”
“Well, let’s go hear his story.”
THE ROAD WAS LONG, dusty, and wide open to the waves of heat shimmering under a sun that seemed closer to the earth than it should have been.
In the distance they could see oil rigs pumping and a sea of gas flares burning off straight into the atmosphere. They passed one tanker truck that had gone off the road and was driving through what looked like farmland.
“What the hell is he doing?” asked Jamison, who was driving the SUV.
“Dumping his saltwater waste,” Kelly replied, looking angry. “Some of what comes back up the pipe after it goes down it to fracture the shale. What that trucker is doing is against the law. He’ll ruin that land for farming forever because the salt permanently burns the soil to nothing. They pull that shit all the time just to save themselves time and trouble. We fine the crap out of them and they still keep doing it.”
“How much farther?” asked Decker.
“It’s right up ahead, on the left.”
They rounded a curve and a modest ranch house came into view. An old and battered gray pickup truck was parked outside.
“Parker have any family?” asked Jamison.
“No. His wife died. His kids are grown and gone.”
As they climbed out of the SUV Decker glanced down at the bumper sticker on the rear of Parker’s truck.
GUN CONTROL MEANS USING BOTH HANDS.
Kelly led the way up the plank steps.
The front door was standing partially open. Seeing that, all three instinctively pulled their weapons.
Kelly called out through the opening, “Hal? It’s Joe Kelly. You in there? You okay? We want to ask you some questions.”
There were sounds coming from inside but they were unintelligible.
“Hal? You okay?” Kelly cried out again. He looked at Decker. “What the hell is going on here?”
Decker looked at him. “Your call. Do we go in?”
“You bet we do.” Kelly took the lead, pushed the door fully open with the palm of his free hand, and they all charged inside.
The front room was plainly furnished with a Remington shotgun and Winchester rifle on a rack on one wall and two fishing rods leaning in a corner. An open beer can was on a table next to a recliner. But there was no sign of Parker.
“Hal?” called out Kelly again.
Decker took in the space, top to bottom, left to right. It looked like Parker had just stood and walked out of the room. The TV was still on. Those were obviously the sounds they had heard.
On one wall was a series of photos. Decker ran his gaze over each of them. They were pictures of Parker and members of various hunting parties next to the carcasses of large, dead animals.
“That’s Shane in that one,” said Decker.
Kelly nodded. “Yeah, they hunt a lot together. I’m in that one over there. Got an eight-point buck on that trip,” he added, indicating another photo. He looked around. “I don’t like this one bit. He wouldn’t leave his door open like that.”
“Does he have a vehicle other than the truck?” asked Jamison.
“He has an ATV. Keeps it in the shed out back.”
They quickly searched the house including the small bedroom but found no one there.
“Bed is still made,” noted Kelly.
Decker walked back into the front room and touched the beer on the table. “Warm. Would he be drinking during the day?”
“Not the Hal Parker I know.”
Decker went into the kitchen, slapped on a pair of latex gloves he’d pulled from his pocket, and opened the dishwasher. There was one plate, a set of utensils, and a water glass inside. He eyed Jamison, who had followed him. “Dinner last night. Beer while watching the TV. Whatever happened, I think it took place last night.”
Next, he eyed the two wineglasses and a half-empty bottle of wine on the counter. “One beer can but two wineglasses. How does that figure in?”
“Somebody showed up while he was drinking beer and watching TV, maybe?” speculated Kelly. “They crack open some wine and drink it. Then either that person takes Hal, or somebody else comes in here and takes him and the other person. But I don’t know who that could be.”
“He have any enemies?” asked Jamison.
“Never heard anyone say a word against him. Everybody liked Hal.”
“Let’s check the shed,” said Decker.
They trooped outside to the small plank shed. It had an overhead garage door that wasn’t locked. With his latex gloves still on, Decker carefully lifted the door and it rolled up on well-oiled tracks while the other two stood ready, their guns pointed at the emerging opening ready for whatever might be revealed.
There was a Honda ATV parked right inside the small space.
Decker had half expected to see the body of Hal Parker in here.
Parker wasn’t inside.