The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,87
you down.”
“Do you know how to trap a coyote?”
“Yes. And then I skin it, make a hat out of it, and wear it while I’m in a log-splitting contest against Abraham Lincoln.”
“The best way to trap a coyote is to figure out its travel corridors. Normally, you’re only trapping on your own land, so you’d already have a good idea of where they travel. We’re taking a shortcut because we don’t have a lot of time.” He paused, his face screwing up. “Dang. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Sievers was trapping on their land,” Jem said.
“What? How did you do that?”
“I just figured that’s what the whole problem was from the beginning: Joy wasn’t just angry about him killing animals, she was angry about him doing it on her property. Then you said that thing about coyotes hanging around farms and ranches, and we know he was the top bounty collector in the state. Boom. It all made sense.”
“Boom?”
“Pretty much, yeah: boom.”
“Were you going to tell me?”
“I thought you had figured it out too.” Jem shrugged. “Sometimes I overestimate you.”
Tean stared at him.
Scipio snuffled.
In the hallway, Mrs. Wish said, “Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, get back here this instant.”
Tean was still staring.
“You were just so busy with the computer, though,” Jem said. “All that typing and clicking.”
“Uh huh.”
“Your mind was elsewhere.”
“Uh huh.”
“It could have happened to anyone.”
“Thank you.”
“Coyotes? Travel corridors?” Jem asked with his best smile.
“Coyotes tend to follow borders and junction areas. Creeks and rivers, for example. The edges of crop fields. Fence lines. Roads. Hedgerows.”
“Love me a hedgerow.”
“What is going on with you?” Tean asked, scrubbing his hands backward through his hair.
Jem grinned. “I’m excited. This is exciting stuff. We work really well together.”
“We’ll print out this map,” Tean said, “and we’ll mark possible travel corridors. Then we’ll look for tracks. Then we’ll do some hiking.”
“Hiking?”
“Only a few dozen miles.”
“You know, we’ve been leaving Scipio alone a lot lately. Maybe I should stay and keep him company.”
“No.”
“He looks so sad.”
Scipio was lying on his back, all four paws in the air, sound asleep.
“He’s fine. Fill up some canteens. I’ll get bear spray and bells. No point in getting too close to the coyotes if we can help it.”
“Bear spray? Will that work on coyotes?”
Tean walked away, shoulders slumped.
“What?” Jem called after him.
The drive out to the Heber Valley went quickly, and they parked on the gravel drive in front of Zalie’s small home. Tean went up to the porch, knocked, and spoke briefly with Zalie when she answered the door. As he came back down from the porch, Zalie shut the door.
“She says we can look around,” Tean said, checking the can of bear spray that was hanging from his belt. He handed Jem an identical can and showed him how to hang it from a belt loop. Then he produced a small bell that he attached to a separate loop on Jem’s pants, and then he hung one on himself. Last, he grabbed a daypack and slung it over his shoulders. “She also told me that the gravel got delivered early Tuesday morning, and she knows the guy, and he was probably still drunk when he got here. That narrows our timeline down even further, and it also explains why the guy wasn’t bothered about dumping the gravel on top of a dead woman. Zalie doubts he even got out of his truck—he just backed it up and dumped his load. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Say that again.”
“What?”
“Dumped his load. And with your thumbs in your belt, the way you were just standing.”
“I hate you.”
“It was so butch.”
Tean stalked away.
“It’s the bear spray,” Jem called after him. “And the bell. And the boots. It’s really doing something for me.”
Tean kept going, and Jem sprinted after him, laughing.
The first travel corridor they checked was the gravel driveway, and they took opposite sides of the drive to cover more ground. They were halfway to the road when Jem shouted, “I got one!”
Tean crossed the gravel, studied the impression in the dried mud, and shook his head. “Dog.”
“Yeah, of course it’s a dog. That’s what I’m saying.”
“No, a dog isn’t a coyote. Or a wolf. Their tracks look different. That’s a dog. See how round it is? A coyote’s print is elongated.”
“Well, I still found the first track.”
“You did,” Tean said with a small smile. “Very good job. Wolf tracks are much larger, just so you know.”
“Great. That’s great. Much larger. That’s perfect.”