The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,120

the moment of surprise, and Tean still had the advantage. Tean kicked wildly, aiming low. Several times he caught the man in the back. When he fell, Tean climbed on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

“Hold still,” Tean said, no longer caring about quiet. He jerked on the rope. “Stop it, or I’ll let you asphyxiate.”

With what must have taken a great deal of effort, the man stilled, and Tean loosened the rope. The man took a shuddering breath. His voice was rough when he said, “What the fuck—”

“Be quiet.” Tean dug out a penlight and turned it on. John Sievers squinted into the light. Grabbing a handful of his short hair, Tean forced his face away. “You’ve been coming around the farm for weeks now, haven’t you? You’re the one Zalie keeps hearing prowling around out here.”

“Fuck you, you fucking psycho, I’m going to—”

Sievers bucked before he had finished, trying to catch Tean off guard and throw him off. Tean just yanked on the rope, and after a few moments, Sievers collapsed again, making those horrible choking noises.

This time when Tean loosened the rope, he said, “Do that again, and I’ll leave you here. They’ll chalk it up to autoerotic asphyxiation. I’ll make sure of it.”

Sievers was breathing raggedly.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been coming around here at night. Is that right?”

It took longer this time, but Sievers said, “Yes.”

“For the afterbirth.”

“Yes. Fuck, get this fucking rope off me, I can’t breathe.”

“And you’ve been using the afterbirth to bait your traps. That’s how you’re catching so many coyotes.”

The breeze off the mountains whistled through the night. Tean tugged lightly on the rope.

“Yes, fine. I watch the sows, keep track of how many are carrying. I wait until I know they’ve farrowed. The dykes just bury the afterbirth; they don’t even want it. I can use it. It’s not like it’s a crime.”

“Actually, you’ve committed several crimes. I want to know if murder is one of them.”

“Get off me.”

“Did you kill Joy Erickson?”

“You’re fucking insane. Do you realize that? When I’m done with you, there won’t be enough left for the cops to put in a matchbox. I’m going to—”

Again, he bucked. This time, Tean wasn’t prepared. Sievers threw him clear, and Tean rolled across the scrub and dirt. The flashlight flew out of his hand, glass cracked, night swept back in. He could hear Sievers wheezing, getting to his feet. Tean scrambled upright and got his back to the barn. Everything was swallowed up by the darkness. His heartbeat was so loud that he lost track of Sievers’s breathing. Adrenaline made Tean shake. He took a step, as silent as he could. Then another. The uneven boards of the barn dug into his back. The pigs were squealing.

When he reached the end of the structure, he turned and ran. He couldn’t tell if Sievers followed. He got to the truck, threw himself inside, and jammed the key into the ignition. Tires squealed; the stink of burning rubber filled the cab as he peeled out. He drove blind until he was out of the valley, and then he pulled onto the shoulder and slumped there, shaking, his clothes sweat-soaked and gritty with dirt.

Eventually he stopped shaking enough that he could drive. He got home. He slept a handful of hours and woke before dawn, Scipio draped halfway over him, the Lab snoring contentedly. Tean worked his way free, cleaned up in the bathroom, and made tea. He carried it out to the balcony. Peppermint steam wafted up to him, and the mug was warm between his hands, the ceramic smooth and glossy with the reflected light from the street. The mountains were a vast presence in his mind, but he found himself replaying that afternoon in the Heber Valley, the look of wonder on Jem’s face when he saw the coyote, really saw it, the way everything had suddenly opened onto something else, something greater.

When the tea was cold, he went inside and poured it down the drain. He took a walk with Scipio. When they got back, he fed the Lab and poured himself a bowl of Cookie Crisp. He stirred it around, tried a few bites, and wondered how anybody could eat the stuff. And then he thought that he should stop buying milk, stop buying cereal, because Ammon wasn’t going to eat this stuff. Ammon probably ate something hearty and responsible for breakfast like steel-cut oats and fresh fruit, maybe a protein shake to round things