Chapter 3

Raymond Moss settled himself more comfortably beside the small fire. He and three other men were sharing the small cave for the night. One of the men, Bobby Howard, had worked for Ray and his father James for years. The other two were city slickers from upstate New York who had paid a hefty fee to be taken out on a hunt.

While hunting cougar was not technically illegal in the state of Colorado, there were restrictions, and Ray knew he’d breeched all of them. Cougar hunting had been prohibited in the area since 2004.

Which Ray thought was stupid. There were plenty of the animals, far more than was necessary to his way of thinking. If it were left to him, every mountain lion in existence would be killed. They were evil predators with a taste for human blood.

And they had taken Ray’s father from him. James Moss had been a near legend in his day. He’d worked with Jed Windrider for years when Ray was a boy. Ray could still hear the stories his father would tell when he’d return home from a hunt. Ray would fantasize about it for weeks, dreaming of the day he would be on a hunt with his dad and Jed.

When Ray was twelve, his father and Jed had a major falling out. Jed was against killing the animals. He only hunted when an animal was wounded or had proven to be a threat to livestock or humans. Hunting for the sport was against his belief. But sport hunting was big business and Ray’s father was smart enough to see that a man could make a nice living leading hunts.

He tried to convince Jed to throw in with him, but Jed not only refused, but he also cursed James for it. Ray could still remember the look on his father’s face when Jed turned his back on him. It had hurt James more than anything Ray could remember. And it was a hurt he never really recovered from.

Ray and his younger brother Jimmy had followed in his father’s footsteps and for years they successfully skirted the laws and made enough from their hunts to set them up in relative style. It was a good life, aside from James being haunted by the condemnation of his old friend Jed.

A couple of years ago, Ray, Jimmy and their father set up a large hunt. They had two packs of dogs, well over the legal limit allowed, and ten desk-soft executives eager to prove their manhood and go back to their penthouse offices with stories to tell of braving the wild. To ensure that none of the men went home empty-handed, Jimmy came up with the idea of employing the latest technology.

It was developed by an entrepreneur in Texas, who designed a rig that housed a web cam and a hunting rifle. He set up a website that allowed people to focus in, aim and fire on an unsuspecting animal using only a computer mouse.

Jimmy was excited by the idea and had modified it to suit his needs. It was costly but worked like a charm. Ray would scout an area before taking the clients in. If he found quarry, he would feed Jimmy the coordinates and Jimmy would take his own custom-designed rig and set it up, using military camouflage tarps and natural cover like fallen branches to hide it. Using a costly satellite uplink, he could sit at base camp with a laptop.

If a client took a shot at an animal, Jimmy acted as backup. One click of his mouse and the rifle on the rig, custom fitted with a silencer, would fire. The client then would forever be able to boast of his “one-shot kill.”

At first Ray and his father had been against it, but Jimmy had hounded them until they gave in. It had proven to be effective and had netted them quite a few returning clients.

Later, when their father died and Ray was so grief-stricken that he could barely get out of bed and was drinking himself to death, Jimmy had come up with another use for the rig that had not only brought Ray out of his funk but had succeeded in making them not just hunters of animals, but hunters of men.

They would never have had to resort to that if it hadn’t been for Jedediah Windrider. They’d been on the hunt for two days when Jed and his granddaughter came upon them. Jed openly accused James of breaking the law and conducting an illegal hunt, right in front of the clients. And his granddaughter Scout had lambasted the lot of them for their actions, citing all kinds of government policy and threatening to have them arrested if they didn’t call off the hunt immediately.

James had capitulated to their threats, at least while in their presence. It galled Ray to see his father cave in, to humble himself in front of their clients. But as soon as Jed and Scout left, James laughed it off and said the hunt would continue. He was just putting on an act to get Jed off their asses and for them not to worry.

From that moment on, everything turned south. Four days into the hunt, the dogs cornered a female lion in a tree. The clients went nuts, firing like mad. One shot caught the lion in the right shoulder. She came out of the tree. The clients scattered like mice when the cat pounced on James. Ray pumped one shot after another into her, but before she died, she’d torn his father to shreds.

Ray knew as he held his father’s mutilated body in his arms that the reason, he’d died was the curse Jed put on them. Everything would have been fine if the Windriders had not interfered. Now his father was dead, and Ray was alone.

In that moment all reason fled his mind and, in its place, appeared a fire of hatred. Hatred for the cats and for the Windriders. And a vow to his dead father that Ray would avenge his death. No matter how long it took, he would make sure the Windriders paid for what they’d done. It was his duty to see justice done. Thanks to Jimmy, he’d accomplished half his mission.

One of the clients interrupted his reverie with a question. “So, are we going to be killing some cats or not?”

Ray looked across the small fire at the pudgy man. “You’ll get your kill. Don’t you worry. Just finish your breakfast and get packed. We head out in an hour.”

He tossed the remains of his coffee into the fire and rose. Outside the cave it was an overcast, cold morning. A perfect day for a kill.

* * * * *

“We need to move faster,” Scout announced as soon as Cole ended his conversation with Tim on the radio.

“We’re making good time,” Cole replied. “What’s the rush?”

“There’s a wounded cat. She needs attention. We have to find her before anyone else does or they’ll put her down.”

Cole stared at her, his brows drawing together in a frown. “And you know this how?”

“I just know it.”

“More of that intuition?”

“Just trust me, Cole. There’s a female cat out there in pain and we have to find her. If one of the other teams stumbles on her they may try and terminate her rather than subduing her.”

“Might be the only way.”

Scout’s eyes took on a glittering hardness that had Cole wanting to take a step back, despite his superior size and weight. “It is not! You listen up, Russell. We’re going to find her and help her. You try and kill her, and I’ll take you down.”

“I didn’t say I was going to try and kill her. I only said it might be the only way.”

“I don’t accept that,” Scout said and took a step closer to him. “Look, we don’t know one another, and I don’t expect you to share my views, but I do expect you to consider my position and expertise in this area.”

Cole considered her words, trying to push aside the crackling energy that was arcing between them. He didn’t quite understand it. Scout was a looker, but he’d had his share of pretty women, and none of them had ever had the effect Scout had on him. Just being in close proximity to her had him thinking of how it would feel to be buried inside her with her strong legs wrapped around his waist.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts. “I do respect and consider your expertise, Scout. But you have to at least consider the possibility that the cat will be too far gone to save. Should that—” He held up his hand as she started to interrupt. “Should that prove to be the case, then you have to be prepared to put her down.”

Scout hated to consider the possibility but knew that it was only realistic to do so. Moreover, she and Cole needed to be able to arrive at a common ground if they were going to successfully work together.

“You’re right,” she said after a long pause. “And should that prove to be the case, I promise you I’ll do what needs to be done. But only if I’m convinced there’s no other alternative. Agreed?”

Cole nodded and stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

Scout looked from his face to his hand then back at his face. She understood that shaking his hand was a symbol, a ritual of sorts cementing their agreement, but she was hesitant to take his hand.

She couldn’t say why exactly. Not much frightened her and she wasn’t a nervous sort. But taking his hand seemed to imply something on a primitively emotional level that unsettled her. If she had the time, she would explore the feeling to try to understand what caused it and what it meant. But time was something they were short of.

So, with reservation she clasped his hand. His big warm hand closed around hers and then it happened. She was catapulted into another realm. Feelings and emotions bombarded her from every side, sending her spinning into a vortex of swirling images and whispered sounds.

It hadn’t happened often, but she did recognize the experience. She was feeling Cole and his life experiences. It took but a moment yet felt like a lifetime that she was enveloped in his essence.

The emotions were staggeringly strong. So strong that she actually did stagger.

Cole saw her eyes cloud over like a curtain of shade had been drawn across them, darkening them to the color of an old penny. Her face paled and she inhaled sharply. Then something hit him. Not physically. It was a mental blow. His vision went completely white, like the world had suddenly exploded around him. For a moment he was completely blind.

Before alarm could register in his mind, his vision returned. At almost the exact same moment, Scout staggered. Cole held onto her hand, grabbing her with his free hand to steady her.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded and pulled away from him.

“What the hell happened?” he asked.

Scout turned away. “What do you mean?”

Cole took her arm to turn her back around to face him. “Something happened. Like for a second, I was blind. Everything went white. And you staggered, so you felt something too.”

Scout’s first inclination was to deny it. But dishonesty wasn’t her way, even when it was uncomfortable to be truthful. That she’d learned from Jed. And that teaching was deeply ingrained.

“It was…” she paused. “I don’t know how to explain what it was, Cole.”

“But you felt it.”

“Yeah,” she replied. She wasn’t sure what he had felt but was all too aware of what she’d experienced. It still sizzled through her mind. Had it happened at another time she would have stopped and done nothing but try to translate the information that had been so abruptly thrust into her mind. But there was no time to pause and dissect the flood of information.

“You ever had anything like that happen before?” he asked.

She nodded. “A couple of times.”

“So, what the hell is it?”

“It’s like a momentary connection. Jed called it connecting with the soul of another.”

Cole’s eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“It means I get a rush of…of feeling from someone. Their emotions.”

Her answer made Cole distinctly uncomfortable. Uncomfortable enough that he did not want to think about it. He kept his emotions in tight check and to himself. The idea of someone sensing or feeling what he kept so carefully locked inside went way beyond disconcerting. It made him feel vulnerable.

“So, what did you feel?”

“Just a jolt,” she said and turned her back on him. “It takes a while for it to make any sense and right now we’ve got other things to think about.”

Cole wasn’t sure he was convinced she was telling the truth, but he was glad she didn’t want to dwell on it. He was more than willing to try to forget it had ever happened. If that was possible.

“So, you have any ideas about our cat?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said over her shoulder. “Let me see your map.”

Cole unfolded the map and handed it to her. She studied it for a moment then pointed to a location. “We need to reach this area before nightfall.”

Cole looked at the location she pointed to. “The only way we’ll make it is to follow Timber Creek to the lake, skirt it and scale here on the west face of Ida and stay to the high ground.”

“Yeah, I know. You up for a climb, Cole?”

“Born ready,” he said with a grin.

“Then let’s get to it,” Scout said with an answering smile.

“Lead the way.” Cole gestured in front of him.

Scout shook her head. “You know the park better. Take us the quickest route to the west face of Ida. We’re not going to find the cat between here and there.”

“You sure about that, Scout?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then, let’s go.”

With no further discussion they headed out.

* * * * *

“Shut the fuck up!” Raymond Moss snarled at his clients who were yakking it up like they were huffing down the sidewalks of New York.

They abruptly went silent, looking at him in anger tinted with anxiety. “What?” one of them asked softly.

Ray ignored the question, focusing his attention on their surroundings. He could have sworn he heard something.

“Hey!” A voice from behind them had Ray whirling around.

Two men approached, one behind the other.

The man in the lead stopped fifty yards out. “Drew Jones, Park Ranger Service. Would you mind telling me how you got into the park, sir?”

Before Ray could respond, Bobby’s mouth flew into action. “We heard there was a wounded lion and figured we’d help ya’ll track him down.”

Behind Drew, the hunter Ted whispered, “What wounded cat? If there was one, we’d have been told. They’re poachers.”

Drew did not acknowledge Ted’s comments but addressed the group of hunters. “Sir, there are regulations against firearms, and a strict ‘no-hunting’ restriction in place. Again, how did you get those weapons into the park and what is your intent?”

“I done told you,” Bobby said with a whine, before Ray cut him off. “None’a your fucking business. Now unless you want trouble, you’ll go back the way you came and leave us alone.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t do that,” Drew replied as Ted whispered behind him. “Call it in.”

“Hold it!” Ray jerked his rifle up to his shoulder.

“Hold on now!” Drew said at the same moment Ray fired.

Drew felt the heat from the bullet pass his left shoulder and almost immediately heard Ted’s breath whoosh out. He whirled around, too late to catch Ted as he fell, the radio slipping from his fingers.

Drew crouched, trying to bring his gun around to aim at the attackers but before he could, something slammed into him, propelling him backward into darkness.

“Jesus Christ!” one of Ray’s clients barked weakly. “You stupid—”

His words were cut short when the third shot from Ray’s rifle hit him in the center of the forehead.

The second client immediately broke and ran. Ray took a bead on him, but Bobby pushed the barrel aside, spoiling the shot. “Christ, Ray, what the fuck you doing?”

Ray turned on Bobby with murder in his eyes. “You dumb sumbitch! Those fuckers saw me shoot those guys. We can’t let ‘im live. He’s a witness. Get rid of him and there’s no evidence against us.”

Bobby seemed unconvinced. “I don’t know, Ray. We ain’t never done nothing like this and I ain’t—”

“You want to go to prison, Bobby?” Ray interrupted. “Cause sure as shit, if we don’t stop that city boy now, our asses are cooked.”

“Hell no, I don’t wanna go to prison!” Bobby replied. “But we can’t just run him down and shoot him. Maybe he’s scared enough he won’t talk. Besides, how the hell’s he going to find his way out? Maybe we can just track him and make sure he stays good and lost. Come nightfall he’ll freeze anyway.”

Ray considered it but was more inclined to go find the man and make sure he didn’t make it out. “Look, Ray,” Bobby said. “We can wipe down your rifle, put it in the dead guy’s hand and fire a round or two. Then you take his gun, and we’ll get rid of it. We’ll say you loaned him a gun because he didn’t have one. We’ll track the other guy and make sure when night comes that he’s got no chance to make it out. That way when they find the rangers it’ll look like the city boy done it and no one will ever suspect us. They’ll think his partner got scared and bolted and froze to death.”

Ray had to admit that Bobby’s idea had merit. He smiled. Every now and then Bobby came through for him. “All right, that’s what we’ll do. But if it looks like that city boy’s going to make it out, we might just have to arrange a little accident.”

“Whatever you say, Ray,” Bobby replied immediately. “You’re the boss.”

“Got that right,” Ray boasted. “You damn sure got that right.”

Bobby turned and swiped his hand over his sweaty face as Ray took care of cleaning his weapon to place in the dead man’s hands. Inside of five minutes they had the scene prepared and headed out to track their quarry.

* * * * *

Scout went still and silent as a rock, making Cole do the same. For nearly two minutes she was frozen before she turned to look at him. “Gunfire. Four, maybe five miles.”

“You heard gunfire from four miles away?”

“Didn’t you?”

“No. You sure you’re not mistaken?”

She shook her head. “Close your eyes for a minute.”

“Why?”

“Indulge me.”

Cole closed his eyes. “Okay,” Scout said. “Think back a few moments. We were standing here, silent. What did you hear?”

Cole concentrated, his brows drawing together in an intense frown. He shook his head and opened his eyes. “Nothing. The wind, maybe.”

“No, you heard more,” she argued softly. “Try again. There was an alarm. You heard it. Wings and—”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “Birds. All of a sudden, wings and cries in the air.”

Scout nodded again. “Yes, it was part of a concentric circle that began about five miles from here. A gunshot. The wildlife in the immediate area reacted, setting up kind of a chain reaction that radiated out from the point of origin.”

Cole regarded her with new respect. “I get it. But I still didn’t hear the actual shot.”

“Neither did I. I heard its echo and the reaction it evoked.”

“Do you think that means someone else found the cat?”

She shook her head. “No, she’s still out there. Still hurt.”

“So, we continue the way we’re going?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, maybe I should radio in just to be sure,” he suggested.

“You still don’t trust me,” Scout replied.

“It’s not that!”

“Then what?”

He didn’t have an answer except to leave the radio in its harness and gesture ahead of them. “If we cut across the creek about a quarter mile up, we’ll have smoother going and shave some time off reaching Ida.”

Scout smiled at him. “Lead the way, Ranger.”

Cole grinned and took the lead. Scout watched him walk ahead of her, wondering if she should have told him that the origin of the disturbance lay in the direction they were headed.

* * * * *

Tim Matthews swore when he couldn’t raise Cole on the radio. One of the teams had run into trouble and now the competition had taken an unexpected and dangerous turn.

“Frank!” he yelled to the ranger on duty in the main office.

Frank appeared at the door. “Any word from Cole?”

“Not yet. Listen, I need a list of everyone registered in the park. And I need someone to check every vehicle and make a list of the tags. Run them against the register. I want this place locked down. No one in or out.”

“Something happen?”

Tim blew out his breath and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his desk.

“Drew Jones radioed in. They came upon a hunting party. He and the tracker hailed the party and he advised them there was a no-hunting restriction in place.

“But according to Drew, one of the men tried to make excuses for their armed presence and had claimed they were out trying to help track a wounded cat.”

“We haven’t had any reports on wounded cats,” Frank said.

“Exactly,” Tim agreed. “And Drew knew that. He advised the men to surrender their weapons and leave the park. The leader of the group refused.

“The way Drew tells it, Ted was standing behind him and he whispered to Drew that he should call in. Drew reached for his radio and when he did, the leader fired. At least that’s who Drew thought fired. All he knew for sure was that he felt the heat of the bullet beside him and then Ted fell, dead before he hit the ground.”

“Jesus!”

“Tell me about it,” Tim said and pushed himself up from his seat. “Drew tried to draw his gun but was shot before he could. When he came to, he was alone. He managed to get the radio and call in for help.”

“Is he gonna make it, Tim?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. A team is en route. I just hope they reach him in time.”

“Amen,” Frank agreed. “Anything I can do?”

“Just get the park closed down. Tight, Frank. Real tight.”

“I’m on it.”

Tim picked up his empty coffee cup and headed for the pot. His stomach was already a boiling vat of acid, but right now he needed to be sharp. There was a new hunt going on, and not one to tag cats, but for four men who had shot and murdered at least one man. Nothing like this had ever happened in the Park and Tim felt responsible.

Tim’s secretary Melody entered the office. “State police are on their way. They said to recall all the teams and wait for them.”

“Already done,” Tim replied and turned to reach for the radio.

“And they said to call Windrider,” she added. “They need a tracker.”

Tim paused and turned to her. “She’s already out there. With Cole.”

Melody’s eyes widened. “You want me to call the State boys back and tell them?”

“No,” Tim replied. “We’ll let them know when they arrive. Right now, just get up with all the teams and have them advise us of their position so we can arrange for pickup points. And check on the status of the team headed out for Drew.”

“Will do,” she said and hurried away.

Tim tried again to reach Cole. There was no reply. It was not like Cole to go completely dark. But then Cole had never been out with Scout, and it was like her to cut off communication.

Sometimes Tim thought she was more like her grandfather than anyone realized—more part of the animal kingdom than that of man. He had no doubt of her skills in tracking, and knew she was proficient enough to handle herself. But she and Cole were out there unaware, which meant they could stumble into trouble.

“Come on, Cole, answer,” he whispered as he tried again.

* * * * *

Raymond and Bobby sat on a ridge watching their former client stumble through the small clearing in the valley beneath them. Night was falling and the man was weak, his steps uncertain. Ray had no doubt that the only thing that drove him now was fear. Fear of possible pursuit and fear of night falling and him being alone and lost, with no shelter and no food.

“What’cha think?” Bobby asked. “Make camp here tonight and pick up his trail in the morning?”

Ray nodded. “Yeah, might as well. He’ll stick to the valley more than likely. No fire though. We don’t want to give away our position.”

“Got it,” Bobby agreed. “You think he’ll last the night?”

Ray shrugged. “Who knows? Don’t much care.”

Bobby nodded and said no more as he started unpacking his bedroll. Ray remained motionless, his eyes scanning the landscape as his mind traveled back in time…

He was almost eighteen, nearly a man, and had been working with his father for several years. His father claimed that Ray was going to be a tracker on the level with Jed Windrider. Ray found it odd that even after Jed had rebuffed and turned his back on James, James still spoke so highly of him. It annoyed Ray, but he knew the compliment was the highest his father could give.

He was feeling pretty full of himself. He’d made enough to buy himself a shiny new Camaro, had money in his pocket and had developed enough self-confidence that he wasn’t shy around the ladies.

In fact, he was earning himself a reputation with them as well. A real player. That’s how he saw himself. Woo them with money and a fast ride, get what he wanted and leave them.

Not that he was heartless. He simply had no interest in the girls he dated. They were only interested in the latest fashion, their looks and who was the most popular that particular week. None of them were the least bit interested in his prowess in tracking. In fact, if he made the mistake of bringing it up, a girl would normally either turn up her nose at the idea or make fun of it.

All of them except Scout Windrider. She was only thirteen but possessed far more maturity than any of the girls Ray’s own age. And she was a tracker. From what he’d heard, she was darn near a master tracker already. Ray was a bit envious of the high praise she earned, but also intrigued.

He’d watched her leave the junior high school. She never dawdled, talking with friends. She made a beeline for the bus, her stride strong and sure and her head up, as if getting a lay of the land. Those strange cat’s eyes of hers seemed to take in everything. Twice she had stopped and turned, pegging him with a penetrating stare as he sat in his car watching her.

Ray had already made up his mind that the day she turned sixteen, he was going to make his move on her. By then he’d have his own place and money in the bank. Not to mention a reputation as a tracker. She’d be impressed. And she’d want him…

“You want some’a this jerky?” Bobby’s voice cut into his thoughts.

Ray shook his head and rose to spread out his bedroll. No use in dwelling on the past, his father always said. Just let it go and move on. But Ray was cut from a different cloth. There would be no peace for him until he’d made all the Windriders pay for his father’s death and had rid the world of as many cougars as possible. Once that was done, Ray would be done with it and ready to move on. But not a second sooner.

With his hatred refueled, he lay back and stared at the stars, his mind at work on how best to continue his quest once he had taken care of the irritating city boy. One step at a time, he told himself. Just one step at a time. First thing he needed to do was get back to base camp and talk to Jimmy. And if he stumbled on the city boy maybe he’d just take care of that problem and get it out of the way. He waited for Bobby to fall asleep then headed out.