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Zachary shrugged. "Not a clue. None of the victims had any real enemies. All were well-liked in our community. As for the police, some of our pride still live outside the confines of society. They keep to the compound while others—like me—have Social Security cards, get jobs, pay taxes. We finance the land and supplies. Those who choose not to pass in society contribute in other ways. Sheila had no birth certificate, no Social Security card. She's not listed in any computer anywhere, so who's going to miss her?" He rubbed his temples. "Except those of us who loved her."
I jotted down a few notes. This was far more serious than anything I'd run up against before. And it was the first time an Earthside Supe had approached me for help. "Give me the names of all the victims, please."
"Well, I told you about Sheila. Her parents came down from the mountains years ago and joined our clan. They're both still alive. Then there were Darrin and Anna Jackson, newlyweds. They vanished while they were camping."
"Camping? At this time of year?" I asked, glancing out the window that overlooked the back alley. The clouds shone silver, and the temperature was hovering around thirty-three degrees.
"Werepumas are strong. We're the Rainier Puma Pride." There was a sense of self-esteem in his voice that made me want to sit up and salute.
"We're used to cold weather," he continued. "So camping this time of year doesn't bother us. Anyway, we found their bodies near where we found Sheila's—near an old mining arrastra by Pinnacle Rock."
"What's an arrastra?" I wasn't familiar with the term.
"The prospectors used mills that were usually built in a stream to grind the ore down enough so they could pan it for gold. You'll see, if you come out to take a look around." Zachary looked like he could be a prospector himself; he was rugged enough. I found my mind wandering from the problem at hand to the muscle under his jacket. Just how buff was he, anyway?
Hastily reining in my thoughts—they were rapidly veering in a direction I wasn't prepared for—I asked, "So, were all of the bodies found near the stream?"
He nodded. "The creek flows alongside the hill. And Todd Veshkam disappeared while he was out cutting deadwood for kindling. Again, we found him near the arrastra. The bodies were all in the same condition: dry as a bone, hearts missing."
"Sheila, Darrin, Anna, Todd… you said there were five victims?" I paused, my pen poised above the notepad.
He closed his eyes. "Yes. The last was Hattie… Hattie Lyonnesse."
As he spoke, I felt the rush of anger in his voice. I jerked my head up and looked into his eyes. They glittered, dangerous and feral. "Lyonnesse? Isn't that your last name?"
Zachary nodded. "Hattie was my sister. And I want you to find the bastard who killed her so I can put an end to his miserable life."
* * *
CHAPTER 3
"Your sister?" I set down my pen, feeling terrible. Instinctively, I leaned forward, reaching for his hand. "Oh, Zachary, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize—"
He stared at my outstretched palm for a moment, then lightly brushed my fingers with his. "Don't. Please don't. There's nothing you can say. She's gone, beyond our help. What you can do is find the son of a bitch who did this. Closure isn't all it's cracked up to be, but it's all my family can hope for."
Unsure of what to say, I cleared my throat. "What was she like? Hattie? Tell me about her."
He smiled then—just a glimmer—but enough to break through the dark shadows crowding his face. "Hattie was one of those women born to be a mother. You know the type? She didn't have kids of her own yet, but everybody who knew her knew that she'd settle down and raise a litter. Hattie lived with our mom. Father's dead. He was shot by some idiot on a full moon three years ago. The best we can figure is that the stupid ass got between Dad and a good meal and probably thought my father was coming after him. He shot him with three bullets. Dad managed to run into the bushes, where he hid until he died. No doubt the guy didn't look back, just ran off, probably thinking he escaped with his life."
"Who found your father?" I asked, staring at the desk. It seemed that life was harsh everywhere. I'd thought it bad back in OW, but here, even with more societal rules, the art of living was pretty damned rough.
"Hattie and I did, the next morning. He'd bled to death." Zachary let out a long sigh. "Anyway, Hattie stayed on with our mother after his death. She was dating one of the compound boys. Nathan Joliet's his name. Nate's never learned to pass, either, and I don't think he wants to. He takes care of repair work for a lot of the folks around the compound, and they give him food and supplies… whatever he needs."
"So she was engaged," I murmured.
"Yeah. Hattie never aspired to anything grand. She was content with a simple life. She was proud of who she was. A member of the Rainier Puma Pride. And she was dedicated to preserving bloodline and heritage." He stood and crossed to the window, staring down on the back alley. "She was due to get married next month, but then the murders started. Sheila was first, then Darrin and Anna. And then Todd."
"And then Hattie died, and you decided that whatever's happening can't go on any further." I doodled a circle on the paper, wondering if he'd be sitting in my office if the latest victim hadn't been a member of his family.
He turned, a wounded expression creasing his face. "Is that what you think? That I'm only here because of my sister? That doesn't say much for your opinion of me, does it?"
Feeling about two inches high, I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." I had, but I wasn't going to admit it. A lot of selfish people had crossed my threshold, and it was easy enough to make a wrong assumption.
Zachary grimaced. "I didn't mean to jump down your throat. I'm just so tense the past few weeks. I know you didn't mean it that way. Anyway, the answer to your question is no. I wanted to come to you right after we found Anna and Darrin and realized that Sheila's murder wasn't an isolated incident. The elders overruled me. I took over my father's spot on the Council after he died, and while I have some input, they still consider me too young to take seriously."
Ah. The hierarchy again. Zachary was low cat on the totem pole, and he'd have to work his way up the ladder by claw and fang.
"When Todd died," he continued, "they began talking about bringing in somebody from the outside. And then Hattie went out for a walk one day and never came back. That's when the Council finally agreed that we need help. Somebody's murdering our people, and we have to find out who's doing it and stop them. It's too late for Hattie, damn it," he said, slamming his hand against the oak desktop, "but maybe it's not too late for the next victim."
