The Loop (31 page)

‘So, just to recap, we’ve got two of these wolves collared now and we’re going to be keeping real close tabs on them. Any proven killers of livestock will be removed or destroyed. That’s absolutely clear.’ She glanced at Dan, who nodded. ‘I understand how strongly some of you are feeling right now. All we’d ask is that you give it a little time and—’

‘What more proof do you need? Wolves kill cattle, period.’

‘Well, sir, with respect, there’s a fair amount of evidence, both from my own research in Minnesota and here in Montana too, in the Ninemile Valley, north of Missoula, that wolves
can
live in close proximity with livestock and not bother them—’

‘Hey, even the goddamn wolves are liberals in Missoula!’

There was a roar of laughter and Helen waited for it to pass, trying to keep her smile in place. It felt more like a grimace.

‘Well, maybe. But a biologist there did some pretty interesting research. He fitted radio collars not just on wolves but on cattle as well and he found that the wolves mingled with herds the whole time without—’

‘Bullshit!’

‘Why the hell don’t you just let her speak?’ shouted one of the WOE group.

‘Why the hell don’t you go back where you belong and mind your own goddamn business?’

Buck Calder stood up and raised his hands.

‘Our city friend back there is right. We asked Miss Ross along tonight and we should do her the courtesy of hearing her out.’

Helen nodded at him. ‘Thank you. The fact seems to be that wolves prefer to prey on wild rather than domestic ungulates. Over a period of six years in the Ninemile, they killed just three steers and one calf—’

‘So how come they killed forty-three here in a couple of months?’ Ethan Harding called out. There was a loud murmur of support.

‘Well, we’re trying to get verification on precisely how many of those losses were in fact caused by wolves.’

‘You calling us liars?’

‘No, I certainly am not.’

Buck Calder leaned forward in his chair. ‘Maybe you could tell us, Helen, how many of these calves you have “verified” as wolf-kills so far?’

Helen hesitated. It was the question she’d dreaded. Of the forty-three alleged losses, only five carcasses had been found and not one of them was recent enough for the cause of death to be established.

‘Miss Ross?’

‘We’ve still got some work to do on that. As you know, the evidence is a little thin on the ground—’

‘But, so far, how many can you say for sure were killed by wolves?’

Helen turned to Dan for help. He cleared his throat and was about to speak when Calder cut in:

‘I think we should hear this from Miss Ross. How many?’

‘Well, as I say, sir, we still have to—’

‘So far, though?’

The whole room went quiet, waiting for her answer. Helen swallowed.

‘Well, so far. None.’

There was uproar. Everyone started shouting at the same time. Some of those with seats were getting to their feet. Behind them, the fiercest WOE woman was nose to nose with Ethan Harding.

‘The wolf’s an endangered species, you bozo!’ she yelled.

‘No, lady,
you’re
the endangered species!’

Calder held up his hands and called for quiet. But it had little effect. Helen shook her head and picked up a glass of water. As she drank she looked at Dan and he shrugged, guiltily. Bill Rimmer was craning his neck, peering toward the back of the hall. Something was going on back there. The TV cameraman had turned right around and was clambering up on a chair to get a better shot.

Helen could see a truck had pulled up outside with its headlights pointing directly into the hall. Someone had climbed out of it and was walking toward the entrance, the lit rain sheeting down behind him. He pushed his way through the crowd out in the lobby and slowly it parted to let him through. He was in the hall now, elbowing his way through the hecklers, and as they saw him, they stopped their shouting and stepped aside.

It was Abe Harding.

He was carrying something, a bundle of some kind, over his shoulder. Helen glanced at Dan and they both frowned.

‘What the hell’s he got there?’

‘Looks like a rug or something.’

Harding was clear of the hecklers now and heading down the aisle between the seats where most people had risen to their feet to get a better look at him. He was wearing a long yellow slicker that glistened with rain and made a swishing sound as he walked. He wasn’t wearing a hat and his grizzled hair was all bedraggled.

Everyone was silent now and every pair of eyes upon him. He was wearing spurs which clinked with every footstep as he made his way toward the rostrum. He was staring at Helen with a kind of crazed intensity that would have been comical if it hadn’t been so scary. Helen hoped Dan’s two special agents had their guns handy.

It wasn’t until Harding reached the rostrum and stopped right in front of her that Helen noticed the blood rivering down his slicker and realized at last what the bundle of black fur on his shoulder was.

‘Here’s your goddamn verification,’ Harding said.

And he swung the dead wolf from his shoulder and dumped it on the table.

 

By the time Helen and Bill Rimmer managed to get out of the community hall, Main Street looked like a war zone. It was blocked by four police cars and a fifth was blasting its siren as it tried to push its way through the crowd. Flashing red lights bounced and prismed in the store windows and made the great puddles of rain look like blood. It was coming down like a monsoon. Helen was soaked to the skin within seconds.

A cop with a megaphone was asking people to move off and most were complying, negotiating a route through the puddles to their cars. Across the street now she caught sight of Dan. He and the two special agents were arguing with one of the cops who had arrested Abe Harding.

She could see Harding now, still in his yellow slicker with his hands cuffed behind his back, being ushered into the back of one of the police cars. His sons were yelling at two other cops who were stopping them from getting to him. A little farther along the street, in the sheltered doorway of Iverson’s grocery store, Buck Calder was giving an interview to the woman from the TV station.

‘You okay?’ Bill Rimmer was looking down at her.

‘I think so.’

The moment after Harding had dumped the wolf, all hell had broken loose. One of the WOE men had gotten into a fight with the two loggers, but it had been broken up before anyone was hurt. In the ensuing chaos Helen had been shoved against a wall and a large rancher had stepped, accidentally, on her foot. That aside, she was just a little shaken.

‘Dan looks like he’s got himself a problem over there,’ Rimmer said. He hunched his shoulders against the rain and headed across the street and Helen followed.

‘You don’t have to do this!’ Dan was saying to the cop.

‘The man assaulted a police officer. Listen, it was you who asked for police backup in the first place.’

‘Yeah, but why take him away? He’s not going anyplace. All this’ll do is make a martyr of him. That’s what he wants, for Godsake.’

It was too late anyway. The car Abe had been bundled into was already moving off, sounding its siren to get through the dispersing crowd.

In its lights, Helen suddenly caught sight of Luke. He was coming down the street bur hadn’t seen her. He seemed to be looking for someone.

‘Luke!’

He turned and saw her. He was wearing a brown waxed slicker, with the collar turned up. He looked very pale and very sad. When he came up to her, he tried to smile and gave a little nod that set the water streaming from the brim of his hat.

‘I w-w-was looking for you.’

‘Me too. I mean, in there. Did you see what happened?’

He nodded. He glanced over to where his father was being interviewed.

‘I c-c-can’t stay.’ He fished something from his coat pocket and handed it to her. ‘I f-found this. By the side of the road.’

Helen took it and looked at it. It was a letter. The envelope was mudstained and the ink had run. But she could still recognize the handwriting as Joel’s. Her heart gave a little flutter.

‘I’d better g-go now.’

‘Oh, okay. Thank you.’

He nodded and turned and walked away.

‘Luke?’ she called.

He turned and looked back at her and she suddenly realized how he must feel about what had happened to the wolf.

‘Will you come and see me?’

He shook his head. ‘I c-can’t.’

And he walked away in the rain and was lost in the crowd.

21

 

Helen laughed out loud. She was sitting in bed, reading it by the light of her headlamp. After Luke had given it to her, as soon as she could, she had left Dan and Bill and the mayhem of Main Street and driven back to the cabin with her heart singing. He had written, at last.

She had delayed opening it for a long time, relishing the anticipation, like a child surveying presents under a Christmas tree. She’d laid it on her pillow and gone about her bedtime routine. She shoved Buzz out for a reluctant pee in the rain, cleaned her teeth, then made some tea. Then she’d undressed, pulled on the big T-shirt she slept in, turned out the lanterns and gone to bed with letter, tea and headlamp. She had briefly considered putting on one of Joel’s opera CDs,
Tosca
perhaps, but decided not to push her luck.

She reached for the mug of tea now and took a sip, tilting the headlamp beam to find Buzz who was curled up by the stove, already asleep. Cocooned in her sleeping bag, her back pillowed against the cabin wall and the letter propped on her knees, Helen sat for a moment, listening to the rain beating on the roof and feeling something close to bliss.

Helen felt something turn inside her chest. She was still holding the tea and for fear of spilling it, put the mug down on the floor.
Oh, Joel
, she begged in her head.
Don’t. Please don’t say it
. Her heart was beating hard and her hands trembled as she forced herself to read on.