Grand's hand moved along the lithe, muscular body. "It still didn't have to end this way. It wasn't necessary to kill them or lose any men."
Gearhart squatted and looked into Grand's eyes. "Is that your professional police opinion?"
Grand looked at the blood on his hand. "It's a fact."
"Is it? Sorry, but you were only batting.333 in your own field. There were more than two cats, you got that right. But you had the direction they were moving wrong and they came out in daylight." Gearhart reached across his body and slipped the hunting knife from his belt. "Deputy Bright was part of the unit up here. He had a wife and a young son who adored him." Gearhart wrapped his fingers around the cat's foot-long tail. Then he slid the knife underneath it and sawed across the base of the tail.
"Oh Christ don't-!" Hannah said.
The tail came free. Gearhart held it replaced the knife, and stood.
Grand just stared at him.
"I know Mrs. Bright very well," Gearhart said, "and I don't give a good goddamn whether the animal rights people picket my office round the clock, throw red paint at my house, or build a shrine up here and burn me in effigy. I don't care whether I get voted out of office and run out of town. Knowing that I did my duty here is the only thing that matters."
"Is it?" Grand asked.
"It is."
Grand's eyes swept across the ridge and then he looked back at Gearhart The scientist stood and walked over to the cat that was being loaded onto the sling. He examined it and then he looked at the other cats. Finally, he walked back to Gearhart.
"You know what really matters, Sheriff?" Grand asked. "Patience. It gets you everything. Respect, cooperation, and most important-knowledge."
"What are you talking about?" Gearhart asked.
"Killing these cats may have created a bigger problem. They're just part of a larger group."
"You mean, the Chumash painting of the eyes?" Hannah asked.
"Not just that," Grand said. "The other group is almost certainly moving southeast, as I said. These cats were here for another reason."
"How do you know that?" Gearhart asked.
"A little zoological police work."
"Grand, don't fuck with me-"
"I'm not," Grand said. "I'm telling you that the worst is still to come. These dead cats are all female."
"So?"
Grand said, "The cats Hannah and I faced in the pipe were males."
Chapter Sixty-Five
Grand's remark took Gearhart by surprise.
The sheriff slid the severed tail through a belt loop. He looked around at all the cats. While he did, Grand turned toward the north, toward Route 166. He picked up sand from the ridge, sifted some of it through his fingers, and watched as it fell to earth.
As the Wall took pictures, Hannah walked over to Grand.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Checking something else," Grand said. "Something that might explain why some of the cats were here."
He released more of the granules. Like the first batch they drifted to the southeast, as he expected. Grand sniffed the air. He found something else that he expected. Something he should have thought of before.
"Well?" Hannah said.
Before Grand could answer, Gearhart walked over. The sheriff was once again a focused professional with a mission.
"Professor, I need to know how many more cats we're talking about," Gearhart said.
"Seven or so, assuming a full pride has survived," Grand replied.
"Would the remaining animals split up, go off in groups of two or three?" Gearhart asked.
"They might," Grand said. "They're looking for something."
"What?"
"I think I know but I won't tell you unless I have your assurance that the cats will be tranquilized and not executed."
"Executed?" Gearhart screamed.
"That's right."
"You twisted shit! You think your goddamn cats are more important than human beings?"
"Not more important or less," Grand replied. "I told you before we can save them all."
"Mister, you tell me where those cats are headed or you won't be able to save your own ass!"
"I already told you they're moving to the southeast," Grand replied. "And Sheriff? Don't threaten me."
"No?What'l you do?"
Grand didn't answer.
Gearhart raised both hands and gave Grand a big push to the chest. Hannah hopped back to avoid being bumped aside.
"Hey!" she cried.
"Don't do this," Grand said to Gearhart.
"Why not? You think you can take me, Professor?" Gearhart shoved him again.
Grand suddenly threw what was left of the dirt to the right. Gearhart glanced at it. When he did. Grand's right hand shot down. The scientist drew the hunting knife from the sheriff's belt. It was still wet with the saber-tooth's blood. Grand pointed it down and pressed it against the top of the man's groin. At the same time, Grand used his left hand to grab Gearhart's belt and yank him closer.
"I know I can take you," Grand said.
Gearhart tried to shove away from Grand but the scientist twisted the belt, pulled tighter, and pushed the knife down. The blade tip penetrated the fabric just above the zipper.
"Push me again," Grand said through his teeth. "Please."
Hannah hurried toward them. "Stop this!" She eased her hands, then her arms, between the men.
The men continued to glare at each other.
"Jim, please," Hannah said. "We don't have time for this."
Grand released Gearhart. Gearhart stepped back.
"When this is over, we settle up," Gearhart said, thickly.
Grand flipped the knife over and handed it to Gearhart hilt-first. "You know where to find me."
"And I will," Gearhart promised. "Now I don't have time to argue. What buys your cooperation?"
"I want to talk to the National Guard field officer at your base camp," Grand told him. "We can work out details of tranquilizing the cats while we move to intercept them."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Gearhart yelled. "Sedation may not work!"
"I'm an optimist," Grand said. "Let's try it anyway."
Gearhart hesitated, but only for a moment. He pulled the radio from his belt and told the chopper pilot to lower the harness. Then he turned away and radioed Lieutenant Mindar.
As Gearhart talked, Hannah stepped in front of Grand.
"A pair of cowboys, that's what you two are. And I stress the 'boys.'"
"He'll cool down," Grand said. He looked at her. "Listen, Hannah. While we work this out with the National Guard I need you to do some things for me."
"Name them."
"Would you call Joseph? If things don't work out between the National Guard officer and myself, I'll need him to crawl up the command ladder until he finds someone who will listen about saving the cats."
"Okay," she said. "Maybe there are Chumash in the guard ranks. He can go to them."
"Good idea," Grand said. "Then I'd like you to call Dr. Thorpe. Tell her I need to know if there are any geological vents that open up between Hollywood and Beverly Hills. We also have to find out if there are any new sinkholes, maybe in the Hollywood Hills. And is there anyone you can call to find out where the drain pipes and viaducts open up in that same Hollywood-to-Beverly Hills corridor?"
"I'll have my City Hall stringer call the Department of Water and Power in Los Angeles," she said. "But why there?"