Uncontrollable (The Nature of Grace, Book 2) (21 page)

“It was smaller than the one you and I found a few days ago. I couldn’t tell if it was a male or female though.”

He scratches his head. “Dang. I hope that wasn’t the alpha female. It is so essential to the pack’s survival out there. Did you by chance see the tag number?”

I think back. “Actually, now that you mention it, it didn’t have a collar on.”

He flips his pad and frowns. “That means it was one of the females. We lost one on the tracking system a day or two ago. I was hoping the collar was just broken.” He faces Reynolds. “What do you want to do?”

Agent Sweeney pipes up. “Nothing. We’re shutting down.”

Katie gives him a look and comes at it differently. “I think we have enough data right now to pull these wolves back in. They’re not safe out in the wild. I say we regroup and assess what we have.”

Porter shakes his head. “This is very common in all releases. The most common causes of the wolves not making it are being shot or run over, which we haven’t had – knock on wood." He drums his knuckles on the arm of the chair. “The others are disappearances due to collars not working and natural causes.”

“I cannot authorize sending out any more volunteers. Especially kids,” Katie says.

“Well, I can.” Porter raises his voice. “This is too important to stop because we had a couple wolves die and a bad snowstorm. This is important to the survival of the wolves going forward. They can’t live in captivity forever!”

Katie stands and approaches Porter. “Look, I know you’re disappointed. I am too. But we’re putting kids in danger. I’m sorry.”

Porter’s face turns red. “So that’s it?”

Katie nods. “I’m afraid so. We’re shutting down. I’ll call the Wolf Coalition members and schedule a meeting. They’ll want to know why.”

Porter storms out of the room.

Even though I think Katie made the right decision, I can’t help but feel bad. The wolf project is being shut down because of me. Now, there will never be wolves in the wild. I hang my head.

Katie grips my shoulder. “Grace, don’t go blaming yourself. This isn’t your fault. These things happens all the time in conservation efforts. It’s part of the job and part of the frustration. This is not the end of these wolves. It’s just a delay. They’ll be safer at the reserve anyway. It’s nasty this year. Who knows, maybe we can try again some place else in the spring. I’ll let you know if we do. Deal?”

She said exactly what I needed to hear.

I nod, and within the next few minutes, everyone leaves and my room is empty again.

I stand at the window and watch the mountains trying to hide among the low clouds.

I can’t help but still wonder what’s really going on out in those woods.

And now that the project is over, I’m afraid I’ll never find out.

Survival Skill #18

Focusing on the basic needs — safety, health, eating, and sleeping — can help survivors cope with events that may be beyond anyone's control
.

B
irdee calls out from the kitchen,“You hungry?”

Sitting on the couch, I tuck the blanket under my legs and balance the laptop on my thighs. “Depends on what you have in mind.”

She comes out with a tray of MoonPies. “What do you think?”

“Ah. You read my mind.” I smile. “I love being sick.”

She places the tray on the coffee table. “Enjoy it while you can.”

“I will. Had no idea you could pamper so well.” I grab a double-decker mint treat and take a bite.

She sits in Dad’s old chair. “It’s just a temporary side effect of pure guilt.”

I know she’s kidding, but I stop eating for a second. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Birdee waves it off as she chooses a vanilla mini. “Let’s just forget about it. I’m glad you’re off that project. I’ll sleep a little better tonight, and your mom will be happy to know you’re home safe until she gets back.”

“If you say so.” I pop in the last bite and let the marshmallow ooze into my mouth. “Yum. I could eat these 24/7.”

Birdee laughs. “You practically do. Good to see you’re putting on a little weight.”

My mouth drops open. “Excuse me.
That
is not a compliment.”

“Well, that’s how I meant it.” She starts knitting with Petey perched on the chair behind her, and her glasses slide down to the tip of her nose. She looks like Dad when he used to read the newspaper form front to back.

I try to concentrate on the searches I’m doing and keep my mind off the past.

She pries. “Whatcha working on?”

“Just doing research for school. I thought if I turned in a paper on the Red Wolf Project, maybe Ms. Cox would feel sorry for me and count it toward my grade.”

Birdee smiles at me over her specs. “I doubt it, but it’s a good idea.”

I write down a few random facts about wolves in my cameo notebook. I skim through some articles and news bulletins about the Red Wolf Project. Pictures of Katie Reynolds and Jerry Porter pop up.

I click on some of the links for Katie and realize she’s had quite a posh life. Comes from a wealthy family in Tennessee. Her father, Craig Reynolds, was one of the top veterinarians in the nation, but died when she was a teen. No wonder I like her. We have so much in common beyond loving nature.

Her mother, Suzanne Reynolds-Smith, grew up in Nashville with her brother and parents. She lived there all her life and was the city councilwoman for two terms. She eventually remarried a high-ranking military guy who had only one son about ten years older than Katie.

I click around on the embedded links. It takes me to Katie’s bio on her web site. I’m impressed. Didn’t know she graduated with honors in business from Darden. Smart lady. She even won a national title in the Intercollegiate Pistol Championships. Evidently, a smart shooter too. She’s obviously one of those women who does it all. Someone I could see myself like in a few years.

I click back to the Red Wolf Project article and follow Jerry Porter’s trail. He’s lived in North Carolina his whole life. His father owned a farm out west that was sold off after he died. Porter went to NC State. Got a degree at the College of Veterinary Medicine and a master’s in Forestry and Environmental Studies. He stayed on at NC State and served thirty years in the forestry department until his retirement a few years ago. I click on another link, and it takes me to an article, “Professor Resigns Over Misconduct Scandal.”

Porter was accused of falsifying his credentials and his research. He was also accused of plagiarism and embezzlement and denied his pension. Though criminal charges were never brought, the article says he’s been struggling financially ever since, acting as an independent guide and tracker to make ends meet. It shows a picture of his wife. I click on it and am sent out to another article, “Wife Dies in Wolf Attack.”

My stomach sinks as I read the article about how Porter and his wife were working with the red wolves. One of the males attacked her when she entered the pin. I think back. That must’ve been the one red wolf attack he mentioned in the beginning. I don’t see how he could like, let alone research, wolves after something like that. I wonder if Sweeney or Reynolds knows about this. I print out the article for later.

Next, I look up eBuild, the real estate company that is being affected by the wolves. I scan down the board of directors. The company has won tons of awards for building sustainable properties, so at least they seem environmentally conscious. I page down through their annual report last year scanning their financials, mergers, and partnerships. Digging some more, I find the parent company of eBuild is Cardinal, Inc., run by a Mandy Smith. She’s a CEO-at-large, whatever that means. When I click on Cardinal’s properties, there’s a list of about forty states where they own either mountain or beach locations. Mandy Smith must be a rich lady. No wonder she’s at large. She probably ran off to an exotic beach somewhere and is buying property from poor country folk.

Then I Google myself. Which is a huge mistake.

I see an article, “Grace or Curse? Local Teen Finds Endangered Wolf Dead.” There are four pictures with the article. One is a bad picture of me, probably from middle school because I’m still wearing braces. There’s a picture showing the black bears caged in the woods with a caption about bear-part trafficking. There’s one of a dead red wolf, and finally, one of my dad smiling with Carl, Les and the man who I know as Mo’s dad. They are standing in front of a pile of gear, obviously taken after some bust a few years ago. Besides Les, out of all the pictures, I’m pretty much the only person still alive.

My stomach sinks as I read the article, wondering if I am really a curse to everything in the area. The coverage will never end; and, unless I leave this place and start fresh, everything that’s happened here will follow me forever.

No matter what, I’ll never fit in.

I wonder how they got the story on the wolves. I didn’t think Katie was making anything public just yet, and I know Sweeney is waiting on autopsy reports, so surely he wouldn’t go to the press.

I toggle to the other window that is still open showing the picture of Jerry Porter standing next to a caged wolf that was probably just rescued. My eyes narrow. The only other person who could leak this story and who has something to gain is Porter.

And now that I know he has a motive in getting revenge for his wife, I have to tell Sweeney.

I quickly close all the windows, but not before taking one last look at my middle school picture. “Ugh. At least they could use a better photo.”

When I glance up, Birdee is staring at me. “You’re just torturing yourself.”

I point to my screen. “So you knew about this?”

She nods. “Yup. Tossed it out with all my other garbage. Why do you read that negative crap anyway? It only hurts you.”

“Maybe I deserve it.”

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for yourself. Your daddy raised you better than that.”

I sigh. “Sorry.”

She places her knitting needles in her lap. “Chicken, you don’t deserve bad things because you stood up for what was right. I don’t care who it involved or hurt. You weren’t doing anything wrong.”

I point to the computer. “According to the
Smoky Review
, ‘Grace is cursed.’”

She waves her hand and starts knitting again. “You have to do what’s right no matter what some stupid newspaper says. No matter what they think.”

I smile. “Dad used to say that.”

“He was a smart man.” Birdee winks. “Raised by an even smarter woman.”

I lie down on my side and cuddle the square knit pillow decorated in bears. Another one of Birdee’s masterpieces. “You think I’ll ever get past all this?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” She holds a little sweater up to Petey. “I do know one thing. You ain't responsible for the demise of this town. People just need someone to lash out at. We had some corrupt people; and unfortunately, they aren’t here to take the heat. Bunch of cowards if you ask me. Dead or not.”

“No matter what I do, I just can’t win.”

“What matters is that you play the game, and you don’t let losers intimidate you. Besides, you can’t even begin to win if you don’t play.”

I lay on my back with my hands behind my head. “I just want to make Dad proud. To make a difference like he did.”

She nods. “Good. And you will when it’s right. You’re only sixteen. He was fifty-four. And trust me, when he was sixteen, he wasn’t saving bears the way you did. I believe he was only saving ladies at the time.” She chuckles to herself as if remembering something funny. “Give yourself time to save the world. It’s hard to do when you’ve lived less than 6,000 days.”

“Well, I guess I have some time to think about it. Without the wolf project, there’s nothing to do but think until school starts up again.”

“Why don’t you try relaxing for once? Get out of your head and have some fun. Go on a date with Wyn.”

When I open my mouth, she butts in. “And don’t think I don’t know about Mo. Your Mom told me everything, and it sounds like he was a total hottie.”

I smile, feeling sad and happy all at once thinking of him. “He was. You would have liked him.”

“Well, he saved your father, so he’s high up on my list, bless his soul. How a kid so young could have the balls to stand up to those men. For your father and his. They don’t make guys like that anymore.”

I nod as tears fill my eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” My throat tightens at the thought of never finding anyone like Mo. Of not ever seeing him again.

Birdee gets up and sits next to me. “Chicken, it’s time to move past all this. The more you drag it along with you, the heavier it gets. Let it go. Hanging back with the dead keeps you from living.” Tears stream down my face as I think of Dad and Mo. She wipes my eyes with a handkerchief. “I know it’s hard. Believe me, I know. But the way I see it, we don’t have a choice, so why fight it?”

I hug Birdee and blow my nose.

Petey flies over and lands on my lap. I sniff and stroke his head. “What do you think, Petey? What should I do?”

Petey bobs his head. “Quit your crying.”

Birdee and I burst out laughing. She pulls off her glasses and thumps the little bird on the head. “Petey, that wasn’t nice. Those dang R-rated movies are ruining this bird.”