Ravenous by Ray Garton Page A

down at his desk was to call the Department of Fish and Game over in the courthouse. He identified himself to the secretary and said he needed to talk to Lenny—that was Leonard Hill.
    â€œSheriff?” Lenny said. “How are ya?”
    â€œWell, not too good, Lenny, not too good. I lost a deputy last night.”
    â€œDamn, Sheriff, I’m real sorry about that. I heard it on the news this morning. What happened?”
    Hurley gave him a quick account, slowing down and getting more detailed when he discussed his deputy’s remains.
    â€œMy God, are you serious?” Lenny said. “An animal ?”
    â€œThat’s what the deputy coroner says. He says we’ve got a big, powerful animal in the area, something like a bear.”
    â€œA bear ?”
    â€œThat’s what he said. Is that possible?”
    Lenny was silent a moment, then, “Well, it’s not im possible, I suppose. But there hasn’t been a bear seen around here since the early ‘seventies. And never have any actually come into town. Not ever .”
    â€œCan you get your people on this right away?”
    â€œSure. I’ll go over there myself right now and see if I can find any sign of a bear, or maybe a mountain lion.”
    â€œI’d sure appreciate it. The idea of finding anyone else like that ... well, it just makes me sick. Are you planning to do this right away?”
    â€œI’ll drive up there as soon as I hang up the phone.”
    â€œAh, that would be great, Lenny. I can’t get away to meet you, but I’ll send a deputy over there to show you the exact spot. And as soon as you’re done up there—don’t even wait to get back to your office—just call me on your cell right away and let me know what you find, could you do that?”
    â€œSure, Sheriff. No problem.”
    After hanging up, Hurley looked at the messages on his desk, things he had to do. But the office felt very small that morning, and Hurley felt cramped, closed in. All he wanted to do was go out in the steel-grey day, get in the SUV, and drive.
    So that was what he did.
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    8
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    Doris’s Window
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    Doris Whitacker had been at her front window crocheting a little blanket for her seventeen-month-old great-grandson Noah, since a little while before the sun—what there was to see of it beyond the fog and clouds—had come up. On a TV tray in front of her plush, rotating rocking-chair, its red-wine color blending with nothing else in the room, stood a steaming cup of coffee, a paper plate with two raspberry Pop Tarts on it, and a pair of Swarovski binoculars. On the wall across the room was a large flat-screen television. She’d paid a fortune for it—the chair hadn’t been cheap, either—because her most recent late husband, a successful retired attorney, had left her a healthy chunk of money when he’d died. It upset her children to see her buy such expensive items. That was why she enjoyed buying them so much. When she’d bought the binoculars, Victoria, her oldest daughter by her first husband, had become apoplectic. Doris had honestly thought she was going to have to perform some kind of CPR on Vicki, because she sat on the couch and stared at the wall with her mouth hanging open, the receipt for the binoculars clutched in her right hand, as Doris called her name again and again. Then, so suddenly that it made Doris flinch, Victoria had blurted angrily, “And you’re using those to spy on your neighbors? That’s what you do when you sit around here all day? Spy on your neighbors ? With your ridiculously overpriced binoculars? That’s what you spend your money on?”
    â€œThey’re glad I’m here, my neighbors,” Doris had said, “ask any one of ‘em. I watch this neighborhood like a hawk while they’re away at work, or school, or daycare. They know that I’ll call the police if anything