The Serpent and the Crow

Book 2: Chapter Five

Wade felt uneasy coming to this part of town. It only made the desolate streets more heinous by the Arizona dust that littered the pavements. Swirls of red dirt circled the air. It occurred to Wade that this would be the first time he ever came through Westwood with a Native in tow. He saw the odd looks the locals gave while sitting at traffic lights. Douglas unaware that he was unwelcome. Wade thought it mattered little because he didn't give a shit. His daughter was missing, and the day was coming to a close.

Wade pulled up to the front gate. He read the sign.

Desert Creek Hunters Club-Private Property-Trespassers will be shot.

It was precisely the welcome to any outsiders. Although Wade was from Texas, the sign was meant more for Douglas' kind.

"Maybe you should stay in the car, Doug."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm just saying, Dale, will most likely be more receptive to questioning from someone like me."

"Rather than an Injun like me? Well, I don't give a shit. My kids out there."

"It'll be quicker if I go in there. He might have nothing to do with all this."

"Unlikely. You notice that his name, and this place, keep popping up all over this investigation?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean he's going to play soprano for your choir soon."

"What does that mean?"

"It means if you're going to get someone to sing, you get the right conductor."

"I suppose you're the right guy to do it?"

"No, I'm just not the wrong guy like you are. If he even sees you come in, he'll clam up. Just let me do this, will you?"

Douglas gave a disapproving look.

Dale lined the walls with various taxidermy. Beasts crowned with antlers. The heads of exotic animals, most likely smuggled in from different safaris abroad.

It seemed strange to Wade that for a club of hunters that were bigots; they were well travelled and often frequented countries full of the very race they hated. It was the first time that he could see the hypocrisy. Hate blinded people to how the world worked. He thought to himself that he was one of them not so long ago.

He saw Dale strip and clean a rifle. The closer Wade got, the more he realised it looked more like an air rifle or BB gun.

"I guess you got the skinny on where to spot a sixteen pointer?"

"There ain't many monarchs around here," Dale said, "And I reckon you ain't even seen a fourteen-point Imperial, let alone a Royal Stag. "

"Well, that's why I'm here. I'm looking for a place that knows about hunting, or is this one of them bullshit places?"

"Well, look around you, Detective. Tell me if you're in the right place."

"Well, I guess I'll have to see."

"You still hanging out with that Red Skin nigger?"

"It's a job, Dale. I don't have to like it."

"You talking about the job or your partner?" I appreciate you like a good game, like any other hunter around here. But I ain't interested in playing games. So, state your business."

Wade saw Dale in a photo with a few locals, lying next to a lion with William Harding and one other person with a long beard, a familiar-looking guy. The guy with the long-beard had a tattoo of a crow and crescent moon. The man's safari hat obscured the view of his face.

Wade asked, "What were you doing up in them hills, Dale?"

"What do you want to understand?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just want to learn who's leaving crimson roses around my crime scene?"

"Yeah, it was me. What about it?"

"William Harding wants to thank you for it."

"Never met him. But tell him we're all grieving for that little girl. It ain't right. Adults may be but a little girl. That ain't right."

"Yeah, you know what else ain't right?"

"What?"

"That rifle ain't going to take down much. I mean, not in these woods. You bird hunting?"

Dale looked confused until he realised Wade was referring to the weapon in front of him.

"It ain't meant to kill, It's meant to capture."

"Capture what?"

"A professor or some sort needed help in Trepidation."

"What are you trying to catch?"

Dale shrugged. Wade grabbed a few things from the tables and noticed red and green feathers scattered over the working desk. He examined one.

"They stabilise in flight."

"Stabilise what?"

"The old coot ordered tons of them," Dale said as he held a dart with red and green feathers.

Wade could tell that he was a good liar. Dale was hunting something, but not for Trepidation Zoo.

"He said he needed some help with capturing snakes out in those hills on the border of Coyote Hills and the old Redfern House."

"Redfern?"

"What, you don't know any ghost stories?" Redfern House was a haunted mansion out in Cold Cut, Colorado. I guess those folks in Cold Cut got sick of people getting themselves killed up in those mountains, so the townsfolk voted for it to be torn down. Until some beer baron, out from the Appalachians, moved shop here in Solemn. Anyway, the Moonshine King moved Redfern brick by brick... "

Dale's patience wore thin, and he didn't like no detective snooping around the place.

"... Is there a point to all this?"

"I just want to see why he needs tranquillisers and why he captures them?"

"I don't know why the old coot wants them. For the zoo, that's how he put it. His zoo."

"Wayne Ray Lee? Was that his name?"

"Could be? I don't know. Anyway, he ordered a lot of tranquillisers. If you ask me, you don't need that many tranquillisers for a snake. No matter how big the forked tongued son of a bitch is."

"What were you doing up in Coyote Hills when you found Katie's underwear?"

"I don't think I like your tone or insinuations, Detective."

"Then you won't like how I say it then," Douglas said.

Doug pistol whipped Dale.