The guys exchanged an uneasy glance. “No,” Matt squeaked.
“So you thought you’d come to the Adirondacks and try it?”
“Yes. I mean, no,” Matt’s answer changed at a sharp glance from his brother. “I don’t know,” he added lamely, shoving back a greasy lock of hair.
“Are these the weapons you used last night?” Liam pointed at the rifles.
The men nodded. “We’ve got our gun permits.”
Liam didn’t doubt it. Still, it paid to double-check. “Let’s see them.”
As Tim grabbed the paperwork, a loud barking erupted. Backup. Liam breathed a sigh of relief. These guys were cooperating, but an extra pair of hands would make this easier.
“Matt. Call off your dog and let in my colleague. He’ll be coming up to the front door now.”
“Got it.” The man smiled unevenly and stumbled away.
Were these guys still drunk? Hungover from celebrating last night’s kill? Worse, had they been intoxicated while shooting near Vivie’s house? The thought stabbed through him. She shouldn’t be living on her own so deep in the woods.
He studied the gun permits then looked up when another officer, James Ruffalo, strode into the room, his back as straight as his pants’ crease. Since they were the same age—twenty-seven—and had joined the department around the same time, they’d hung out and become friends.
“I’m Officer Ruffalo.” He nodded curtly to Tim then glanced at Liam, a grim smile ghosting across his face. “Officer Walsh.”
“James.” Liam jerked his chin. “They’re getting ticketed and then arraigned since they’re out of state. I’d appreciate you taking Tim to the courthouse while Matt and I follow.”
“Got it.”
“We’re going to court?” sputtered Tim, his body shaking in indignation, his thick face flushing red. James shot him a stern look that settled him down. Matt, on the other hand, grew paler, a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead and upper lip.
Liam pulled out another pad and began writing. In the tense silence, James headed to the back window and whistled long and sharp at what Liam guessed was his sighting of the dead bear. Matt repeatedly cleared his throat. After a couple of minutes, Liam clicked his pen, ripped off the last slip and handed a small pile of paper to Tim.
“You’re being ticketed with the following misdemeanors—taking wildlife out of season, illegally taking wildlife and taking a bear with the use of artificial light, as well as hunting without a license—a violation.”
“Both of us?” Matt picked up an open beer can and drained what was left of it.
Liam nodded. “Let’s go, boys.”
Just as he’d hoped, they followed him and James, a textbook arrest.
If only the woman waiting back at the vet clinic would be as easy to handle...
* * *
“MISS HARRIS, WE have the results for the cub.”
Vivie stood and straightened her cramped back. How long had she been sitting in that plastic chair? It felt like hours. She scanned her cell-phone screen, the time confirming her suspicions.
“How is she, Doctor Morrison?”
The pretty veterinarian smiled, the creases around her mouth and eyes deepening. “Her jaw was dislocated. Looks like she hit it hard—maybe in a fall. Hopefully it will heal properly now that I’ve reset it or she’ll have trouble feeding in the wild. Otherwise, she’s dehydrated and stressed, but healthy. No life-threatening issues.”
Vivie’s joints loosened and her breath rushed in, easier than it had this morning.
“So she’ll be all right.”
Doctor Morrison freed her gray-streaked braid from her name tag then nodded. “As long as her jaw heals well, there’s no impediment to her living a long life.”
None except Officer Walsh...
Vivie wondered what had kept him so long. She’d thought he’d be back in an hour or so, but was glad for the chance to delay whatever he had in mind for the bear’s future. Rather than dwell on the negative, she’d spent her time studying the DEC’s online material for the certification test. If Officer Walsh had been around, he might have said it was unnecessary, bursting the lovely plans inflating in her head.
“May I see her?”
The doctor nodded and gestured behind her. “Right this way. We had to sedate her earlier, so she might be a bit sleepy.”
Vivie entered a spacious room with several cages, all empty except one.
Her pulse leaped at the sight of the small black animal behind metal bars, her claws poking through them.
“Hi, sweetie.” She stuck a finger inside and stroked the cub’s nose, making her lids lift slowly, her deep brown eyes meeting Vivie’s.
Immediately, the bear jerked to her feet and pressed against the cage door, grunting.
“It’s okay.” Vivie imagined the poking and prodding she’d gotten today. No wonder she was disoriented and frightened. What a long ordeal for such a young animal. “Everything is going to be all right from now on. Promise.”
She turned to the doctor. “May I hold her?”
The veterinarian studied her then nodded slowly. “Just for a moment. We’re not supposed to let wild animals around people, but you were so good to those animals last winter.” They smiled at each other, remembering when Vivie had sought medical attention for the lame critter she’d found by her dumpster.
The doctor lifted the latch and swung open the door, gently pulling out the struggling bear.
“She’s heavier than she looks!” Vivie exclaimed, holding her tight when Doctor Morrison handed her over.
“Twenty-three pounds. A little underweight, actually, but within range. ”
Vivie inhaled the musky, clean scent of the cub, pulling her warm body closer still. She sniffed Vivie and seemed to relax. Vivie held in a laugh at the ticklish wet nose poking her ear.
The doctor stroked the cub’s back. “She likes you. She gave the vet tech a bit of a hard time earlier. Hardly got her to take half the bottle. But that’s understandable given her dislocation.”
Vivie snuggled the bear closer, kissing the top of her head when she burrowed under Vivie’s chin. “Can I try?”
Dr. Morrison appeared torn. “This is going against policy, but I’d sure like to see her eat.”
A minute later, Vivie was in a rocking chair, a blanket spread on her lap, the cub on its back, pulling hard at the rubber nipple from the uninjured side of her mouth.
“She likes it!” Joy filled Vivie as she watched the hungry youngster eat. The cub held the bottle between her paws, her eyes locked on Vivie’s. Too cute.
“I’m glad she’s eating so well,” observed Dr. Morrison. “Wasn’t sure if she’d be able to do it. But she seems like a pro now. Once the swelling goes down, she should be able to try regular food.”