“…thought I’d come out here for a cup of coffee, even though it’s a bit nippy. I wanted to talk to you about the wolverines.” Two chairs scraped noisily across the wooden planks. His parents wouldn’t be able to see the moose from the porch.
“This is the strangest case I’ve ever been called on. I’m hoping this cold air will clear my head so I can think it through. There’s something about these deaths that just doesn’t add up.”
“Like what?” Steven asked.
Jack could hear his mother sigh. “First of all, I’ve read through stacks of papers, and the truth is no one really knows much about this animal. They’re still very mysterious. And it doesn’t help that they are surrounded by myths and legends. There’s one story where a wolverine supposedly broke into a cabin and ate a trapper alive.”
“Ouch!”
“Steven, you know that’s utter nonsense.”
His parents’ voices distracted Jack. He didn’t want to hear about wolverines when he had a huge moose in his camera’s viewfinder. He wished they’d keep quiet so they wouldn’t scare away this animal before Jack got some pictures. Compared with all the pictures of moose he’d seen in books, this one looked twice as big, maybe because he was so close to it.
The moose took another mouthful of twigs and munched idly, although Jack thought it might be watching him.
He’d heard that more people got hurt by moose than by grizzlies, so he didn’t want to tick this big guy off. Just keep it nice and easy, he told himself. Zooming in so close he could count its eyelashes, he began to snap photos.
Ashley huddled beneath the tree branches like a turtle in a shell, watching the animal with rapt attention. “We should get Mom and Dad so they can see this,” she whispered.
“No, don’t move. I don’t want to scare him. If he decides to charge us, we’re toast.”
The moose backed up, his enormous head whipping past branches as he turned to go. Even though he knew it wouldn’t make a great picture, Jack snapped a few of the animal’s rump.
“Maybe we should go tell Mom and Dad now,” she suggested. “They can still get a look at it, even if it’s moving away.”
“Nah, don’t bother. They’re all hung up on the wolverine stuff.” Jack didn’t feel like sharing the moose experience with his parents—or more truthfully, with his father. He wanted to develop these pictures, and if they turned out as great as he thought they might, he’d present them to his dad as proof that he could take some spectacular shots too—even if he didn’t have his dad’s experience or his expensive camera equipment.
Once again his parents’ voices penetrated his consciousness. Olivia was saying, “A wolverine would rather run away than fight anything its size or larger. If they hunt anything, it’s usually ground squirrels. But lack of information is just one problem. The whole case has got me all turned around. For one thing, I don’t like the way those bodies were found.”
“You mean because the last two were next to snowmobile tracks?”
“Exactly. It doesn’t make sense, Steven. They’re such secretive animals, so why would they even come close to the trail? And two of them this last time…two males together? The fact is wolverine males are solitary. They keep to their own territories. I just don’t get it.”
“Were they hit by the snowmobiles?”
“The report says there are absolutely no signs of impact. The last two bodies are at Kantishna. I’ll know more when I examine them, but it appears they weren’t hit. It’s just baffling.”
Jack knew about the report. After they’d arrived in Anchorage, they’d driven directly to Denali, found the house they were to stay in, then quickly unpacked before heading to the ranger station, where his mother had been given a packet with pictures of the dead animals. Now he heard a rustling as his mother handed some papers to his father.
“…deaths are compounded by another sad statistic,” she was saying. “This report says wolverine young have a very high mortality rate—up to 30 percent.”
“From humans hunting them?” Steven asked.
“No. Unrelated adults appear to be killing the kits of other wolverines. But 30 percent! That’s a huge amount to lose. Which underscores how the wolverine population can’t afford the loss of apparently healthy adults. They’ll be in serious trouble if we don’t get a handle on this.”
“Nature can be cruel,” he told her. “Although I must admit I’ve thought about eating my own young once or twice.”
“Steven!”
He just laughed. A beat later he said, “I still think nature can’t hold a candle to the viciousness of the human race. Look at Nicky’s situation.”
Olivia dropped her voice low. “Seriously, what could be more savage than that? The whole thing makes me sick.”
Jack and Ashley exchanged glances. Both of them knew they weren’t supposed to be hearing this. Every time they asked about Nicky, they were told his life was “confidential.” Yet here was a chance for them to find out something—maybe just a little. After all, they were the ones who had to put up with Nicky Milano, man of mystery.
“It’s true—those people have ice in their veins,” Steven was saying. “They have no conscience. All things considered, I think taking Nicky was for the best.”
Ashley had begun to creep forward so she could hear better, but Jack grabbed her by the arm. Any motion might alert their parents, who would be really angry if they caught the two of them eavesdropping.
“I agree, but I have to admit I’m still worried,” Olivia continued. “What about Ashley and Jack? When it’s all said and done, they are our first priority. Are you sure they’ll be safe?”
“Olivia, we’re in Denali, thousands of miles from any kind of danger,” Steven insisted. “No one could possibly find us here. Who would even think to look at a wildlife veterinarian and her photographer husband up here in the frozen north? You’re worrying over nothing.”
“But what if?…” Olivia pressed.
“We can’t live our lives for the ‘what ifs.’”
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m also worried about Nicky. He’s pleasant enough, but how much of all this does he actually understand?”
Jack felt his nerves tingle. The cold bit through the flimsy pajama flannel, numbing his legs. He was holding his breath, straining to catch every word when he heard it—the barely-there sound of footsteps in the snow, as soft as the wind rustling through trees. He turned, nearly jumping out of his skin until he realized it was Nicky wearing a knit ski hat pulled down over his face, with holes for the eyes and mouth. It made him look creepy, like he was going to rob a 7-Eleven or something.
“Naughty, naughty,” Nicky whispered, pointing to the two of them and then to Steven and Olivia.
Jack’s body froze, but his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Caught in the act by Nicky!
Nicky put his finger to his lips and motioned for them to follow him. Ashley crept forward, pulling Jack’s gloved hand; he fell in behind the two retreating figures, moving through the snow this time, not caring how cold his feet got. Had Nicky heard what his parents had been saying? How long had he been standing there spying on them?
The sun was brighter now, making latticework shadows against the glittering whiteness. Nicky kept walking, past a stand of conifers and a boulder with a surface scored like elephant skin, along a tampeddown pathway that led to the corner of the yard, over to a small wooden picnic table where he swept the snow off the wooden bench and pointed for them to sit down.
He had on all his gear—parka, boots and gloves, and that weird knit ski mask, blood-red in color,