“How did you…?”
“There were two things that made me suspicious. The first was that, when Warden Landry and I were visiting Mrs. Stoll, Indigo left ahead of us, and I had the strong impression her purpose was to block us from driving onto your land. It could have been for any number of reasons, of course.
“It was the next day when I began to piece things together. There was straw all over your road that hadn’t been there when Landry and I had driven partway in. But I knew you didn’t keep livestock. And when you showed me around the place later, I didn’t see a single hay bale or even a scarecrow stuffed with cornstalks. Now any archer will tell you that the best targets to use—if you’re cheap and don’t want to spring for synthetic ones—are hay bales, because you’re unlikely to damage your broadheads on the fibers.”
Zane stood there like a zombie.
“This was all conjecture on my part. Then yesterday, Warden Landry found a broadhead in the back of Peaslee’s truck. Gorman claimed it was planted—which gave me the idea for this little trick with Indigo’s car, I have to confess. I asked him where he’d driven that day, and he rattled off a bunch of locations. But one interested me in particular. Peaslee said he visited the Farmington hospital to fight with their accounting department over a billing dispute. And you had told me that Indigo was at a doctor’s appointment.”
From behind me came a shrill voice: “Shut up, Zane!”
The young man raised his hands in the universal gesture for helplessness. “He already knows!”
Indigo came striding toward us with her hands clenched in tight little balls. Someone inside the house must have spotted us. “What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t have to tell him. He’s figured it all out.” He pointed at the bed of her little Subaru.
She flicked her eyes from the arrow to me. “You planted that there, you fucking asshole. That’s entrapment.”
“Actually, that arrow belongs to me.”
“So what the fucking fuck is this about?”
“I was telling Zane about my theory of how you shot Shadow because you were angry over him killing Little Amos.”
Her hand went to her lips, hovered there a moment, then dropped to reveal a curled smile. “What’s your evidence?”
“Fingerprints recovered off the bolt the wolf carried inside him for a week. I had them tested by the Maine State Crime Lab.”
“I’ve never been arrested or fingerprinted—unless you stole something of mine to take prints.”
“That’s not how I conduct investigations, Ms. Mazur.”
“You just plant arrows in other people’s vehicles.”
Zane interrupted before I could respond. “He knows about the hams, Indy.”
She came out with the explanation so quickly there was no doubt she had been rehearsing it in her head. “It’s true Zane bought those hams. Maybe you’re too much of hard-ass to notice, but my man has a big, soft heart. He saw that wolf with an arrow sticking out of him, and he couldn’t deal with it being in pain, and he bought those hams to lure the animal in close so he could help it. That’s what you told him, Zane, isn’t it? Because it’s the truth, so help me God.”
“I know it’s the truth. From the start, I wondered why Shadow ended up where he did, and it was because even though he was dying, he wanted to eat. So I believe you about the hams.”
I held up a hand before she could lay into me again. “There’s something I need to add here, because it’s important. I use the term wolf to describe Shadow, but strictly speaking he’s what’s known as a high-content wolf hybrid. He has gray-wolf and domestic-dog genes in him. He’s been in the wild for a few years, but he started life as a pet. He was a puppy who lived in a box in a living room. His original owner fed him dog chow in a plastic bowl. A lot has happened to him since then—and it’s clear he has become an accomplished hunter—but some part of him will always be a dog. Which is why, I believe, he sought shelter at a human’s house.”
Indigo’s dreadlocks swung when she cocked her head. “That’s touching. But if you know Zane bought the hams to feed an injured animal, why are you still harassing us? Didn’t one of you wardens find a broadhead in Peaslee’s truck yesterday? He’s the logical suspect.”
“There’s one more thing I need to show you.”
From my pocket I removed the copy of a sales receipt from Edmunds’ Market. It was dated two days after Shadow killed the donkey. The slip tallied the total for a rack of lamb and a leg of lamb. The purchase had been made on a personal account. The receipt was signed with the name of the holder of that account.
Indigo Mazur.
38
“She was only trying to help the Stolls,” said Zane, his voice rising. He had never seemed so young as at that moment. “She didn’t want him to take any more of their animals.”
“Did she tell you what she was planning?”
The question rendered him mute.
“I didn’t tell him until afterward,” Indigo said. “I knew he’d try to stop me. He thought that wolf—or whatever he is—was innocent. As if that matters.”
“He was acting out of instinct!” Zane spoke these words as if he had uttered them to her before, perhaps several times before. How often, I wondered, had they argued about her near-lethal decision?
She turned to me as if we were two adults discussing a naïve child unable to understand us. “What did I tell you about him?”
Her condescension wasn’t lost on her boyfriend. “Do you know how hard it was for me to lie for you? I felt like I was betraying everything I believe in.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because I love you.”
“Oh, Zane. I know you believe that. You’re such a sweet, beautiful man.” She held out her tattooed wrists to me. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’m not going
