The family moved on down the path and he watched as they disappeared into the little gift shop that ran up against the side of the parking lot where Ashley worked the cash register, selling T-shirts and patches and a few field guides and coloring books.
Well, old man, he said to the bear. Got some bad news today, but we’re gonna fight it like crazy.
The bear did not make a sound, only continuing to sit on the big rock above the pool, his sightless eyes pouring out through the wire and into the forest all around.
A moment later came the sound of Grace’s truck pulling across the gravel below. He slid off the stump. Don’t you go hiding on me, he said as he walked away, and then, an afterthought, More marshmallows are coming.
He met Grace coming through the visitor gate. Chuck was nearby, telling a family with three young children about how they had found Cinder and had brought her, one-eyed, to the rescue to live out her days. The lion watched the group with yawning boredom.
Why so quiet? Grace asked him as they walked up the path past the Twins. In the next enclosure Katy stood at the edge of the wire, watching them, her orange fur aglow.
Got a call from Colman, he said. Now they were passing Napoleon and Foster and the raptor enclosures.
Oh yeah?
Yep.
What’d he say?
I’ll play you the message.
The late morning was colder than it had been all week, certainly a few degrees below freezing now. Winter on the way and with the turning of the season came the need to tie things down and gather provisions: food for the animals, supplies for his own trailer up the birch path, a tune-up for the tractor so that he would be able to keep the road and paths clear during the heavy snows to come. But perhaps it was all pointless now.
In the office, the coffeepot was full and hot and the heater ticked away in the corner. He pressed the button on the answering machine and she listened to the message.
We’ll just have to fight it, she said in the silence that followed.
He shook his head. I’ve got a bad feeling about all this.
I’ll make some calls today. Maybe someone at the zoo in Boise can give us some advice or something.
You know anyone there?
I don’t think so, but that doesn’t mean they won’t talk to me. She looked at him. You OK?
No, I’m not OK. I’m not OK at all. This is fucked up. They’re acting like I’m a damn criminal.
Maybe we should call the newspaper or something. Get them involved as a public interest story.
I don’t know, he said. He exhaled long and hard. Then he said, I guess let’s get you started.
You sure? We can do this some other day.
Let’s just do it, he said. Otherwise, I’ll just sit in here and stew.
All right, so I’m planning on taking a look at Majer and Zeke today. If we have time left we can try Cinder.
I have you all day?
Only until noon, she said. I have patients at the office starting at one. Unless you really need me. I could cancel those appointments.
Don’t do that, he said.
I would.
I know you would.
She sipped at her coffee and then turned to open a file cabinet, flipping through until she found what she sought. You need to get that kerosene heater fixed, she said.
I already have a heater. He gestured to the gently glowing silver dish in the corner of the room.
That’s not a heater, she said. That’s a toaster.
That’s why I come over to your house so often.
Oh, is that why?
Yep.
A car horn honked from below and he opened the door and stepped out into the path so he could see the parking lot. He expected, or half expected, to see the forest-green Fish and Game vehicle, Steven Colman coming in person to bring more bad news, but instead it was the sheriff’s SUV parked below, the man himself stepping out onto the frozen gravel. When he looked up and saw Bill there he waved and Bill returned the gesture. His thoughts went immediately to Rick and a feeling of sharp and immediate unease twisted inside him like a curl of wire. Shit, he said under his breath.
He looked to the closed door of the office for a moment and then turned back toward the parking lot once more. Shit, he said again. Then he cracked open the office door. Be right back, he said.
What’s up?
He hesitated. Earl’s here.
How come?
No idea. It’s shaping up to be quite a morning.
She was seated at the desk, the contents of the file spread out before her—the charts of Majer’s health during her tenure as the facility’s veterinarian—but she rose now.
You get to work, he said. I’ll see what he wants.
OK, she said, but don’t call me if you get arrested.
That would actually solve a lot of my problems, he answered, half smiling. He closed the door and descended the path to the parking lot where the sheriff stood, watching him approach with hands on his belt like a character from a movie. Bill could think only of that black iron safe with its silver dial. The forest trees lay down in rows and sank one after another into the sand of a burning desert covered over with sage and thistle and stone.
He unlocked the gate and came through it, trying to unclench his hands.
Morning, the sheriff said.
Morning, Earl, Bill said.
How goes the wildlife?
He shifted his weight against the gravel. Good, he said. The sheriff did not speak further and so he added, Grace’s up here getting ready for some vet stuff.
Doctor time, the sheriff said.
Every six months or so.
It was quiet between them once more. His gut knotted into a fist. You wanna come up for some coffee?
Yeah, I might do that, the sheriff said, but I think I need to show you something first.
Behind the sheriff, Bess’s station wagon came up the road and turned into the parking lot. No dust rising in the cold. The air’s sharpness all around them.
The sheriff waved him toward the back of the SUV. Uh, I don’t know how you’re gonna feel about this or if you want it or whatever, but look, that moose a couple weeks back …
The sheriff had his hand on the swinging rear door of the SUV but had not yet opened it. Bill stood in silence, waiting for the sheriff to reveal what he already knew would be inside. Black iron and the silver dial. He thought of serial numbers. Of what he had done.