58

Bob’s furious barking woke Stone. Gala was not in bed. Stone reached for his .45 on the night table, but it wasn’t there. He rolled over to Gala’s side and searched her bedside drawer; her pistol was gone, too.

“Bob, be quiet,” Stone said, and the dog obeyed for a few seconds. The kitchen was two rooms away, and some sort of noise was coming from there, but he couldn’t place it. Then came a sound that he recognized: the unmistakable roar of a bear.

This was followed by two gunshots—loud, but not his .45.

Stone got out of bed, stepped into slippers, and let himself out the outside door, leaving Bob barking again, shut in the bedroom. He ran along the back walkway, and as he got through the kitchen door he heard Gala scream at him.

“Stone! Stop!”

He stopped and saw the bear wrestling with somebody, a man. Gala was a few steps away, pointing her gun.

“Boris!” she screamed. “Get out of the way!”

The bear had his jaws locked onto Boris, between the shoulder and the neck. Stone started to move toward them.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t,” Billy said from behind him. “Let this play out. It’ll be over soon.”

“Boris!” Gala screamed again. “Get clear! I don’t want to shoot you!”

Tirov’s feet were off the ground, now, as the bear reared back and shook its head.

“Are you armed?” Billy asked.

“I was, but not anymore. Gala must have taken it.”

Gala turned and saw Billy and Stone. “No, don’t shoot! You’ll hit Boris!”

“In just a minute, Boris isn’t going to care,” Billy said.

The bear had taken Tirov to the floor and was savaging him. Tirov was moaning and making gurgling noises.

“Gala,” Stone said, as quietly as he could, “where is my gun?”

She looked baffled for a moment, then reached into the pocket of her robe and took out the weapon. Stone strode over and took it from her.

“Don’t shoot Boris,” Gala pleaded. “I’ve already shot the bear twice.”

Stone racked the slide on his little .45, swept Gala aside with an arm, and walked toward the bear and Tirov. She tugged at his sleeve. “Don’t shoot Boris, please!”

Stone pushed her away again, then walked over to the beast and shot it twice in the head. It collapsed on top of Tirov and lay still.

“I think that did it,” Billy said.

Gala ran over, buried her hands in the bear’s fur, and tried to pull it off Tirov.

Stone pulled her gently away, and Billy joined him.

“Gala,” Billy said gently. “That bear weighs about three hundred and fifty pounds—you’re not going to budge him.”

“But Boris could still be alive,” she protested.

Billy took her pistol out of her hand and set it on the kitchen island. He reached around the bear and found Tirov’s wrist. “He has no pulse. He’s as dead as the bear.”

Gala rested her head on Stone’s shoulder and wept loudly.

Billy opened kitchen drawers until he found a box of plastic bags. He pulled one over each of his feet and tied a knot in it.

“Now listen, both of you,” Billy said. “You’ve handled this very well, but it’s time to call the police. It’s also time for me to leave, but remember, I left earlier tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow, Stone. Good night, Gala.”

She answered with a sob.

Billy walked toward the rear of the property, sticking to the flagstones as far as possible. He made his way to the fence, climbed it, and went to his car. He sat down in the car, pulled off the plastic bags and put them into the door pocket, then started the car and drove away. Five minutes later he turned onto the Santa Fe bypass, which led to the airport.

—

Stone picked up the phone and dialed 911.

“Nine-one-one operator. What is your emergency?”

“Is this call being recorded?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, because I’m going to say this only once. There is a bear in the house, and it has attacked an intruder and killed him. I have shot and killed the bear. We need the police and an ambulance for the man, and whatever kind of vehicle is needed to remove a very large bear.” He gave his name, the address and phone number, then hung up.

He led Gala to the sofa and sat her down. “The police or the sheriff will be here soon. Take some deep breaths. When they arrive, tell them exactly what happened, except for the part about Billy being here. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Why didn’t it kill the bear when I shot him?”

“Because you shot him in the back with a .380 caliber, and that wasn’t powerful enough. I shot him twice in the head with a .45, and that would have stopped a rhinoceros.”

Stone sat down beside her to wait.