Chapter 38

Canada, Twenty-Eight Years Ago

Noshi tightened his grip and carried his son down the road. He walked until the little boy calmed down.

“A beautiful day, don’t you think?” Noshi said, standing the boy on the frozen ground.

“Yes, Daddy…”

Northern California, Present Time

For many months, things remained quiet in Wild River County. Other than the standard snow storms, life was smooth, simple even. Mario Panetti’s book became an international bestseller, and Warner Bros. planned to make it into a much-hyped movie due out at Christmas. Angelina Jolie contracted to play the part of Maggie Tall Bear Sloan. Mario had become a sensation in Italy. “I’m boycotting that fucking movie it’s screened here,” Maggie told Dawn one morning over coffee.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years passed uneventfully. On May 15, Flower and Bird celebrated their birthdays at Danny’s place. There were a dozen screaming kids, a piñata in the shape of a star, and a Dora the Explorer cake. Maggie and Jimmy took the children to the creek for a game of hide and seek. They sat on the flat rock to watch them.

“I can’t believe the girls will be starting second grade this year,” Jimmy said. “Hard to fathom those girls were only six when they rode their bikes all the way out here.”

“They were always precocious, Jimmy. I think they’ll end up as doctors or captains of industry, or something.”

“No news of Mingan’s whereabouts?”

“No. The FBI guys are putting in a lackluster effort to find him. I heard they are following up on a lead in Ontario. Jake’s pretty sure he’s nowhere around here now, so he pulled his deputies off the search.”

“Since the killings in Wicklow started when Mingan arrived, and stopped after he disappeared, do you think he’s the monster?”

“Oh he’s a monster all right, but I don’t know if he’s the one who killed all those children, Bobby Jenkins, and…Sally.” God, she missed Sally.

*

It was planting time again. Maggie decided to double up on her tomatoes and squash this year, and had mapped out a great herb garden. At one time, she’d planned to become an herbologist. She studied with the famous Shannon Flowers from Ashland, Oregon, and wanted to make her own tinctures. She resumed her studies, and with healing balms and tinctures in mind, she planted rue, lemon balm, lavender, clary sage, peppermint, Oregon grape, and bought a Hawthorne sapling. Although the case was not yet solved, her hours working in the sheriff’s office with Jake and Happy were cut back to the point where she was overcome with numbing boredom. Gardening, Gaelic lessons, and herbology classes helped fill her days, but she needed something more.

Once or twice each week, Jake or Happy dropped by. She stopped into Mama’s to have coffee some mornings, The Dandelion other mornings, and hung out by herself at The Silverado when the Ulster Boys played. She took long walks in the forest with Chester. The dogwood trees were in full bloom, and her tulips, jonquils, and hyacinth created a fragrant color show at her front door steps. She visited Danny, Cathy, Jimmy and the girls on Sundays, and drank…a lot.

Her twice-weekly sessions with Dr. Ochoa seemed to be helping some, at least she dealt with things better. The therapist recommended anger management classes, which Maggie declined. “I need to be pissed off right now,” she said. “I don’t want anyone taking away my anger.”

Then the dreams started again. She had finished putting in her heirloom tomatoes. It was a sunny afternoon, so she decided on a nap in the hammock. As she rocked herself to sleep, she felt her body lift into the sky, and she was a raven again, among other ravens, flying over the Trinity Alps.

She wondered why she’d never noticed that tiny cabin tucked away in the woods near White Cliffs, well concealed beneath the old growth firs and pines. A narrow deer path led to the cabin and around it, and what looked like a set of human foot tracks ran from between the trees to the back of the cabin. The tracks were almost invisible because the slender trail was overgrown with weeds and forest grasses. She flew closer. The cabin appeared deserted, as though empty for years. Part of the rock chimney had tumbled down, and the windows were broken, some boarded up with plywood, others cracked.

She perched on a window ledge and peered inside. The walls were painted bright red, blue, and yellow. Bunk beds with comforters printed with Mickey and Minnie Mouse characters were on one side of the room. There was a large painted wooden box overflowing with children’s toys, and against one wall, in a tidy row, stuffed animals and dolls. A tidy kitchen with a bright red table and three chairs was at the other end of the room.

Someone, a tall man with blonde hair, stocked the cupboards with Spaghetti-O’s, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Lucky Charms, Oreos and Hershey bars. She cocked her head and watched. Everything so clean inside, so bright, not at all like outside.

The man stopped, and turned toward her. It was not a man, but the monster wearing a blonde wig. She cawed. He pointed a finger at her and said “Catch me if you can, Pukkukwerek,” and laughed.

When Maggie awoke, her pulse was out of control. “Oh my God, Chester. He’s still here.”

For three nights in a row afterward she experienced the exact same dream. Each time the monster said, “Catch me if you can, Pukkukwerek.”

The morning after the third dream, she dialed Jake. “He’s still around.”

“Who is still around?”

“The monster. He never left, he’s not behind bars, and he’s preparing to kill someone else. Could be Mingan if he’s hiding out in the forest, but our guy is not John Winters for certain.”

“And, you know this how?”

“Never mind about how I know. I’m asking you to please trust me on this.”

“Let me guess. You dreamed it.”

“Don’t condescend to me, Jake. The guy is somewhere close. The ravens took me to a cabin near White Cliffs where he keeps the kids. We have to reopen the investigation full bore, get those deputies out there to look for Mingan, and find that cabin.”

“Maggie, no one has lived in that part of the forest in nearly a century.”

“Damn it all to hell, Jake, listen to me. I was right about the Sorenson kids. I knew how to find Flower and Bird when they were missing. Don’t shut me down.”

“I’ll look into it, but I really don’t think Mingan is even in the county. He may not even been in the country. The FBI can’t find a trace of him. Relax a little, and let me take care of this later.”

“Later? Are you fucking kidding me? That monster is going to kill someone else. I know it.”

“Nothing has happened since Mingan skipped bail. I’m telling you, it’s okay.”

“No. It’s not okay. There’s a lull now, but he’s going to slaughter someone, maybe more kids, and you’re telling me to…you patronizing jerk!” She clicked off her phone, picked up a cut glass flower vase from her mantel and crashed it to the floor.

She crossed the room to her booze cabinet, opened a bottle, and poured herself a water glass full of Jameson’s, downed it, and sat down to her computer to start once again researching information on cannibals, serial killers, and child murders. “I’ll find the sonofabitch myself,” she said to Chester. “Screw Jake Lubbock.”

*

Maggie missed five appointments in a row with Dr. Ochoa, refused to answer phone calls, e-mails, or text messages, and would not open her door even when Dawn and Jake stopped by. When she missed several Sunday family dinners in a row, Cathy, Danny, Jake and Happy all showed up on her front porch.

“Maggie, it’s me, Danny. Open up, will you? We’re concerned about you.”

“Thanks. I’m fine. I’ve got work to do. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ve got homemade blackberry jam and some elk jerky right here for you,” Cathy said. “I bet you haven’t been eatin’ in some long while and I’m mighty worried.”

“Thanks. You can leave it on the porch.”

“Your nice tomato plants are all dead now, too, and your flowers, all dried up.”

“I’ll plant new ones later, Cathy.”

“Would you open the goddamn door so we know you are okay?” Jake said.

“You bastard. I’m in here doing work you should be doing. I’m finding that child-murdering son-of-a-bitch on my own. I’m figuring out who killed Sally, too. So, if you don’t want to help, go back to jackin’ off and leave me alone.”

“If you don’t open the door, Happy and I’ll break it in. You’ve got to the count of ten. One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Don’t test me, Maggie. I’ve had enough of your shit. Six…Seven…”

“All right, all right, dammit.” Maggie opened the door.

“Oh my God,” Cathy said when she stepped in after Jake. “You have an awful mess in here and you look terrible.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Danny said.