Cat's Cradle

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first to be killed. He probably surprised them in the cave and was attacked. We’re assuming it was two . . . people.” He stumbled over that.
    “Why are you assuming it was two people, Sheriff?” a reporter asked.
    “Because the marks on the bodies seem to indicate more than one person was involved.”
    “We know the kids were brutally murdered, Sheriff. But we don’t know how. What kind of marks?”
    Here it is. Dan kept his expression as bland as possible. “The bodies we found had been beaten and punctured with some sort of ... multi-tined instrument.” Not exactly a lie; just stretching the truth a bit. “And we found another body this morning bearing the same sort of marks.”
    “Another body, Sheriff?”
    “Another body, a white male, not from this area, was found this morning. Murdered. Same M.O. We’ll release his name when we locate and inform the next of kin. And,” he sighed, “another resident of Ruger County is missing. All signs seem to indicate that this person also met with some sort of foul play. I will not release the name until we know for sure.”
    Mille stood up. A young veteran of countless press conferences and briefings, she could feel the hostility emanating from Sheriff Dan Garrett and the other cops in the room. All directed toward her, and her alone. It pissed her off even more. “How about the other man, Sheriff?”
    “What other man, Ms. Smith?”
    “The other miner.”
    “He had an accident in the parking lot just below the mountain. He lost the lower part of his arm. His left arm. He’s in the hospital in very serious condition. Infection, shock, and loss of blood.”
    “He was not attacked by these so-called ’unknown parties?’ ” Mille asked, the sarcasm heavy in her tone.
    “I can give you an unequivocal no to that question, Ms. Smith. He was not attacked by the party or parties we seek in connection with the other murders.”
    “I’d like for him to tell me that, Sheriff. When can we see this man?”
    “You will have to speak with Doctor Quinn Ramsey about that.”
    Mille stood her ground, refusing to yield the floor.
    “Sheriff,” Mille said, “I overheard you and some other officers and men talking in the hospital. You were all talking about being bitten. Being bitten by what, Sheriff? And what did Doctor Ramsey mean by, and I’m quoting the doctor directly here: ’His action seems to have stopped the aging process.’ End quote. Whose action, Sheriff? Were you talking about the miner who had the so-called accident? What’s really going on here, Sheriff?”
    Dan didn’t falter; his facial expression was neutral. Closed. “Exactly what I am trying to relate to you all, Ms. Smith. What you overheard while you were eavesdropping was police business, and if, or when, I feel it necessary to divulge that information, you will be among the first to know. Next question.”
    “I resent the implication that I was eavesdropping, Sheriff!”
    “I don’t particularly care what you resent, Ms. Smith. Right now, I’ve got more important matters on my mind than your ruffled feathers. When the citizens of this county, those men and women who live and work and pay the taxes here, tell me that I have to answer to you, that’s when I’ll resign. Now please sit down and have the good manners to allow your colleagues to ask some questions. Unlike you, Ms. Smith, they represent the people of this area, and are not seeking sensationalism.”
    Mille sat. But she was so angry she could scarcely contain her inner ragings. She knew she was flushed; she could feel the heat in her face.
    Goddamn smart-assed, country-redneck-pig! she thought. You’ll pay for this!
    Her spleen silently vented, Mille forced a very sweet smile on her pretty face and demurely folded her hands in her lap.
    The other reporters looked first at Mille, then at Sheriff Garrett. Unlike Mille, they knew Dan Garrett’s background: Graduated with honors from the university; Army intelligence for three

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