Endangered Species (47 page)

ICK HAD (',ONE, and with him the noise and surrealistic horror Rof the

fistfight.  Marty lay like a broken doll where he'd left her, neither

speaking nor responding when spoken to.  Her arm must have been hurting

but stubbornness or the anesthetic qualities of cocaine kept her from

alluding to it.

Clasped in the loving arms of Dot, Flicka had been returned to the

circle, and Anna found comfort in stroking the soft hide.  Mona, her

head seeping blood where Schlessinger's gun barrel had struck, was

slightly dazed but insisted she was uninjured in any serious sense.

The dust settled and their minds began working again.  Dot took the

Glock and stood guard over the prisoner while Mona helped Anna peel off

her mud-encrusted trousers.  There was no blood and no wound, only an

area of discolored flesh halfway between knee and crotch.

"Wonderwoman," Mona said, and Anna laughed shakily.  Schlessinger's

bullet had struck some solid object-wood or stone-and a piece of

nature's own shrapnel hit Anna in the leg with the force of a

fast-pitched hardball.  The belief that she was shot had been nearly as

debilitating as the blow.

Tears prickled behind her eyes and she snorted to frighten them away ."

I'd've felt pretty doggone silly if I'd died of this," she said as she

zipped her pants.  The power of the mind was an awesome thing .

She was reminded of a woman who died from a king snake's bite .

She was so sure it was a rattler, and so afraid, she'd gone into shock

and died before she reached the hospital.

After a few tries, Anna found she could walk.  The pain was bad enough

that she guessed there might be a hairline fracture of the femur, but

nothing that wouldn't heal itself in time.

Waiting for a lights-and-sirens rescue with hot and cold running

paramedics anxious to get in on a bona ride gunshot wound was too

loathsome to contemplate.  Having prodded the resolutely mute biologist

to her feet, Anna leaned on Dot and they began a slow limping trek the

two miles back to Stafford House.

To help pass the time and take their minds off their injuries, Dot and

Mona filled in some of the blanks left in Anna's picture of events.

Schlessinger, believing Dot and Mona to be dead women, had indulged in

boasting of her own cleverness.

Anna had been right about the microscope and the assistants .

Both had been billed to the loggerhead account and the money taken by

Schlessinger, but it went deeper than that.  The ten-year turtle study

was funded by a $112,000 grant to be paid in two installments, half on

commencement and half two years into the study.  Schiessinger had

embezzled and spent the first half very quickly.  In September she was

to receive the second half.  Hammond figured out the scam and wanted

fifty percent as his price for silence.  Marty hit upon a less expensive

guarantee.

Schlossinger had been given carte blanche more or less, and had been the

only one to take an interest in the loggerhead project files until Chief

Ranger Hull decided to have them updated and put on the new computer

system.  Evidence of the embezzlement was there to a trained eye.

Suddenly it became imperative that Schlessinger locate and destroy the

old files.

And, Dot added, the old file clerks as well.

While they talked, Marty shambled along ahead of them, her eyes on the

ground, picking her path with great care, looking for the smoothest

trail, one that wouldn't jar her broken bones.

Anna asked her how she'd known to sabotage the actuator rod and whether

she'd lied about hearing the shotgun blast that took the Austrian's leg,

but she wasn't talking.

"Oh, so now the cat's got your tongue," Mona said unkindly.  No one

begrudged her this minute breach of manners ." I seem to recall hearing

that Old Number One died in a wreck.  Want to bet it crashed for the

same reason Slattery's crashed?"

A pitine wreck-, the answer had been in front of them all along .

Anna remembered being told Marty's husband had been killed in a crash.

Everyone on the island knew that.  Like Anna, they'd probably assumed it

was a car crash, America's favorite way to die.  Perhaps Schlessinger

knew how to ruin the actuator rod because she'd done it before.

Less than a mile from the cottage Rick came back to them.  This time he

was armed with a red jump kit of first-aid supplies, extra flashlights,

and Lynette Wagner.  A helicopter with emergency medical personnel was

on its way from the mainland and would be landing at the Stafford

meadow.  Already the faint chuff-chuff of the blades could be heard in

the distance.

Rick's admiration for Anna's fortitude turned to ribbing as soon as she

admitted that she had not, in fact, taken a bullet.

"I'm shot!  It,s bad," he mimicked in a falsetto.

"It looks like it's going to leave a real nasty bruise," Mona said in

Anna's defense.

" Oh, no!  Not a bruise!" Rick squealed.

Anna groaned inwardly.  She was never going to live this one down.  Her

only hope was to dye her hair, change her name, and leave town.

Lynette was, as Anna had come to expect, sympathetic and helpful.  She

was even reasonably sober considering the quantity of wine she and Tabby

had consumed.  Anna found Rick's teasing easier to bear up under than

Lynette's kindness.  It was part of an unwritten code.  Bravery was

possible when one's companions made light of one's predicament. Sympathy

could unman the most stalwart.

Paramedics descended on them in a flurry of efficiency just as they

reached Stafford's grounds.  They did a decent job of hiding their

disappointment at Anna's relative good health, settling for one broken

arm (Schlessinger's), a possible concussion (Mona's), and assorted cuts

and contusions.

As the last of the on-scene ministrations were being finished up, the

sheriff from St.  Marys docked at Stafford pier.  Marty would be

transported to the hospital, placed under guard, and removed to the jail

once the doctors released her.  Mona was also going to the hospital to

get her head wound checked.

Anna dug in her heels and refused transport, even to the extent of

signing the obnoxious form she'd shoved under countless park visitors'

noses; a form swearing they'd been told what idiots they were and

absolving the medical personnel of any liability should they get what

they deserved for refusing treatment.

As they carried a compliant-almost to the I)oint of being

catatonic-Marty Schlessinger toward the waiting helicopter, Rick looked

longingly after them ." This is really your collar, Anna.  You want to

go?"

"I'm already in enough trouble," she said ." Do you want it?"

"Is this a trick question?" Rick was so eager, she was tempted to

torture him for a moment.  Fatigue rather than a good heart stopped her.

,, Be my guest."

Happy as a hound on a hunt, he loped off after the paramedics.

The sheriff took statements and drank instant coffee till Anna thought

either her head or his bladder would burst under the strain .

Four hours on the wrong side of midnight he finally left.  Dot, Anna,

and Lynette sat around the kitchen table in the cottage staring blankly

at one another.  Tabby snored daintily from amid the ruin of files on

the sofa.

"Hey, some girls' night out, huh?" Lynette said after a while .

"On top of everything else, my period started."

Anna tried to smile but it hurt.

"Don't let any of these southern boys find out," Dot warned her .

"They'll steal your used tampons for deer bait.  Ugh."

The packages of meat in Slattery's freezer; the frozen tampons .

Anna thought she'd laughed, but all that came out was a strangled croak.

"You should have gone to the hospital," Dot scolded ." You're in worse

shape than you think.  You'd better stay here tonight."

"No," Anna said ." Thanks." Thoughts were hard to string together;

movement struck her as wildly improbable.  Yet, more than anything, she

longed to be by herself, responsible for nothing and no one ." You'll

stay with Tabby?" she asked Lynette when she managed to piece together

what she needed and how to get it.

" Aren't you going back to Plum Orchard?"

"I want to go home." Dot and Lynette looked at her with alarm and Anna

realized she was sounding a little off-the-wall ." Back to the fire

dorm, I mean.  My own room."

"I don't think you should be alone," Dot said.

Anna sat in mulish silence.  A minute's war of wills, then Lynette

sighed ." If that's what you want, I'll drive you over."

"I'll take the truck," Anna said.  The need to be alone had mushroomed

until she craved it as intensely as Marty Schlessinger must have craved

cocaine.  In her present mood she could easily understand killing for

it.  Solitude was a drug harder to come by in the modern world than

most.

She tried to stand but couldn't do it without help.  Her injured leg

throbbed, the large muscle outraged at recent abuse.  She ran her

fingers lightly over it.  The flesh was raised half to three quarters of

an inch in an area twice the size of her palm.  Frightening visions of

blood clots and internal hemorrhaging made her wish for an instant that

she'd gone to St.  Marys.  But only for an instant.  In hospitals

everybody messes with you ." I can walk," she growled.  But she

couldn't.

At a loss, Dot and Lynctte just watched her clinging to the edge of the

table.  Finally Dot put her fists on her hips and puffed out her

exasperation ." Anna, you're acting like a dog with a sore paw.  We try

and help you and you bite us." Her eyes bored into Anna's and, shamed

back into third grade, Anna mumbled an apology.

"Much better.  Mona's got an old cane from when she broke her foot. I'll

get you Chat.  Lynette will take you to the dorm.  One of the boys can

get your truck tomorrow.  That's all there is to it.  Are you going to

be a pill?"

" No, ma'am."

As ordered, Lynette took her back to the dorm.  Over protests, she drew

Anna a bath, settled her in it, then used Guy's key to unlock the fire

cache and brought her a clean pair of pants, a shirt, and a sleeping bag

." You can return them tomorrow," she said .

"Who'll know?"

After the interpretive ranger left, Anna meant to shampoo her hair, wash

her battered face and take stock of the damage.  She fell asleep in the

tub before she could begin.

A troubled dream was shattered by the bathroom door banging open. Anna's

heart responded with a bang of its own and she started to get out of the

bath.  The water had grown cold.  Her skin was puckered and white.  She

looked as if she were dead and wished it were true.

A shout of "Rick!" followed the crash and a shocked, "Who the fuck- My

God, it's you," and a hasty retreat.  Safe with the door between them,

Dijon talked to her through the wood ." What are you doing here, Anna?"

he demanded ." What happened to your face?

Have you been having fun without me?"

Nearly a week had passed and Anna had gratefully settled back into the