Chương 6
“Did Koda do anything after I left?”
Ethan hesitated.
Maya groaned.
“Come on.”
“He stayed by the glass.”
“How long?”
“About forty minutes.”
“Then?”
“He went back into the trees.”
“Normal?”
“No.”
Maya rubbed the scar again.
“You said there was an intake note about a young female.”
“Yes.”
“Can I see it?”
Ethan looked toward the building.
“Yeah.”
The scanned document was worse than Maya expected.
Not because it proved anything.
Because it was ordinary.
One page.
Handwritten notes.
Transport details.
Sedation dose.
Injuries.
Behavior.
At the bottom, in cramped writing:
Animal highly reactive to adult males. Tolerated approach from unidentified young female present during property evacuation. Female had bandaged left wrist. Possible prior familiarity. Removed by local deputy before transfer.
Maya read it three times.
“Present during property evacuation.”
Ethan nodded.
“So this happened seven years ago.”
“Yes.”
“I was twenty-two.”
“Yes.”
“I was living in Boston.”
“You’re sure?”
Maya looked at him.
“Yes, Ethan. I had a job. Rent. A boyfriend who thought owning three cast-iron pans made him a chef. I know where I was.”
“Okay.”
“Who was she?”
“We don’t know.”
“Did anyone try to find out?”
“Probably not.”
“Why?”
“Because there were thirty-eight animals, four agencies, two arrests, and a property full of unregistered weapons.”
Maya looked at the note again.
“Bandaged left wrist.”
“I know.”
“Same place.”
“I know.”
“Could be coincidence.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think it is?”
Ethan took too long.
“No.”
Maya closed the file.
The next morning, she called her mother again.
Claire answered immediately.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Still in Montana.”
“Maya.”
“I found Leonard.”
Silence.
“He was arrested seven years ago.”
“I know.”
Maya’s anger returned so fast it made her dizzy.
“You knew?”
“I saw it online.”
“And you never told me.”
“What would telling you have done?”
“I don’t know. Given me information about my own family?”
“I was afraid he’d look for you.”
“He was in his sixties.”
“He was still Leonard.”
“What does that mean?”
Claire went quiet.
Maya stood at the window of her motel room.
A snowplow scraped the parking lot below.
“What does that mean?”
“He blamed me for the first raid.”
“Why?”
“Because I called them.”
Maya closed her eyes.
“You called authorities.”
“Yes.”
“You told me there was a raid like it just happened.”
“I made it happen.”
Maya sat on the edge of the bed.
“Why?”
“Because your father hit you.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Claire continued.
“And because I had spent years telling myself the animals were his problem. That I was only there. That I didn’t feed them, didn’t buy them, didn’t hurt them.”
“You were scared.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“But being scared doesn’t make everything disappear.”
Maya said nothing.
“I waited too long.”
“What happened after you called?”
“They came two days later.”
“And Leonard?”
“Gone.”
“With animals.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was one of them the female with the pups?”
Claire inhaled.
“I think so.”
“And the weak pup?”
“I don’t know.”
Maya pressed her fingers into her temple.
“What was the mother’s name?”
“She didn’t have a real name.”
“What did Dad call her?”
“Seven.”
Maya opened her eyes.
“Seven?”
“Number seven.”
Something about that hurt more than it should have.
“And the pup?”
“Button, according to you.”
Maya laughed softly.
“Right.”
Claire said, “You used to leave pieces of hot dog under the fence.”
A memory came so quickly Maya lost her breath.
Yellow mustard on her fingers.
Dirt packed under her nails.
A tiny gray muzzle pushing through wire.
She stood.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“I remember.”
Claire started crying.
Maya walked to the bathroom and gripped the sink.
“I remember feeding him.”
“Okay.”
“I remember the smell.”
Claire whispered, “Maya.”
“Why is this happening now?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked at herself in the mirror.
“Who was at Leonard’s property seven years ago?”
“I don’t know.”
“A young woman with the same wrist injury.”
“I don’t know.”
“Could Leonard have had a daughter?”
Claire went quiet.
Maya felt the silence before she understood it.
“Mom.”
“Yes.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not the same silence as not knowing.”
“I heard things.”
“What things?”
“Your father said Leonard got a woman pregnant.”
“When?”
“Years before.”
“Before me?”
“Yes.”
“So I might have a cousin.”
“Maybe.”
“How old?”
“A little older than you.”
Maya sat on the closed toilet lid.
“And no one thought to mention this?”
“I was trying to cut every one of those people out of our lives.”
“You cut facts out too.”
“Yes.”
Claire did not defend herself.
That made Maya’s anger harder to sustain.
Not gone.
Harder.
“Do you know her name?”
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“Her mother’s name might have been Denise.”
“Might?”
“I met her once.”
“Where?”
“At a Christmas party.”
Maya covered her face.
There were suddenly too many names.
Too many rooms she had lived around without knowing.
“I have to go.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Find out who she is.”
Claire sighed.
“Of course you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were always like this.”
“Like what?”
“You couldn’t leave hurt things alone.”
Maya looked at the scar.
She ended the call without saying goodbye.
By noon, Ethan had an answer from the university.
Not the answer.
A path.
Some samples from the 2002 seizure had been retained as part of a wildlife genetics study, though access would require permission and a legitimate research purpose.
Lena handled that.
Maya handled the human side.
The deputy named on Koda’s old intake note had retired.
He lived in Lewiston.
His name was Samuel Ortiz.
Maya found a public number.
She called.
A woman answered.
“Sam’s outside fighting with a sprinkler.”
“In December?”
There was a pause.
Then the woman laughed.
“You’re right. You should probably talk to him.”
Five minutes later, an older man came on the line.
“This is Sam.”
Maya introduced herself.
The name Carter changed his tone.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“Which Carter?”
May you like
“Maya.”
Silence.
