“Did you hit it?” McCain asked.
“Dunno,” Johnson said. “I was just goin’ to look when you stopped me.”
“Okay, here’s what we are going to do. Let’s walk back to my truck, and I’ll call in some help to see if we can find the bear, if it was hit. Where is your truck parked?”
“Back at our place.”
“So, how’d you get out here?”
“Teddy brung me.”
“And where is Teddy now?” McCain asked. All he needed was another armed Johnson running around out here in the woods.
“He’s gunna pick me up on the road at dark. Unless he’s got a bear down. Then I have to wait for him awhile.”
“Where’s Teddy hunting?”
“He’s up in Cowiche. We got some baits up there.”
“I see,” McCain said. “And you know bear hunting is closed right now.”
“Yeah, but Aaron, he’s been paying us $400 for each bear bladder we git for him. And he gives us another $200 for each hide.”
“This is Aaron Armitage, Teddy’s friend?”
“Yeah, Teddy likes him, but he’s mean to me. He even kicks the chickens when he comes to our house.”
“Sounds like a nice guy.”
McCain picked up Johnson’s rifle, pulled out his GPS and marked a waypoint to help him look for the bear. He then tapped his hip for Jack to come, and the two men and the yellow dog headed back to the truck.
At the truck, McCain radioed for Hargraves.
“Go ahead,” Hargraves answered.
“I found LeRoy Junior hunting bears,” McCain reported. “I have him in custody, but we have a couple other issues. You should probably head my way as soon as you can.”
“10-4,” Hargraves said. “You still up the north fork?”
“I’m up Nasty Creek off the North Fork Road. You’ll see my rig. I think we need a sheriff’s deputy here too. Someone needs to get LeRoy transported downtown, and we have a potential wounded bear to deal with. I have Jack with me, so we can track it down if the bear is wounded. But someone also needs to be here when Teddy shows up to pick up his brother. And we need to send a deputy to try to run down this guy who is buying the bear parts. LeRoy says it’s Aaron Armitage. YSO might want to connect with Kittitas County because I think he lives up there. I know he’s done time at Coyote Ridge, so they may be keeping tabs on him.”
“Copy that,” Hargraves said. “I’ll get a deputy rolling and get them to make contact with Kittitas County, and I’ll be there as quickly as I can. It’ll be probably thirty minutes.”
While they waited, McCain asked LeRoy about their bear poaching business. The younger Johnson told McCain they started back up hunting bears three weeks ago, and so far they’d killed four. They’d killed one the day before yesterday, Johnson said, which McCain figured might account for the blood in the back of Teddy’s truck.
Hargraves showed up twenty-five minutes later, followed by Deputy Garcia a few minutes after that.
“Finding more bodies?” Garcia asked McCain as he climbed out of his SUV.
McCain ignored him and said, “Can you transport Mr. Johnson here down to the county lock-up for me? Hargraves has to be here to arrest Johnson’s brother when he shows up, and I need to go deal with a possible wounded bear.”
Garcia agreed to take Johnson to Yakima, so McCain took his handcuffs off the man, and Garcia cuffed him with his own and put Johnson in the backseat of his rig.
“Thanks, Paul,” McCain said. “I owe you lunch.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Garcia said. “Don’t get eaten by that bear.”
Garcia drove off in a cloud of dust, and Hargraves turned to McCain and said, “Since Teddy isn’t due here until dark, you want me to go help you look for that bear?”
“Naw, I think Jack and I can handle it,” McCain said. “Besides, I don’t want to miss Teddy. I’d hate to have him come looking for his brother and you’re not here to greet him.”
McCain reminded Hargraves that Teddy Johnson drove a maroon Dodge Ram 4X4, but he could possibly be in LeRoy Junior’s white Chevy four-wheel drive pickup too.
“And don’t be surprised if the guy makes a run for it,” McCain said. “He strikes me as just the type. Hopefully, Jack and I will find the bear quickly, and we can get back to assist you.”
“Go do your thing,” Hargraves said. “I’ll be fine.”
McCain checked the GPS unit and headed back toward the waypoint. It showed it was a little over a mile away. He probably could have walked right to it without the assist from a bunch of satellites overhead, but he looked at the device anyway. Before he left his truck, he grabbed the .223 rifle out of the rack and made sure it was loaded, with a round in the chamber and a full clip underneath.
As they walked, Jack cast about, looking for whatever. There were probably a million smells in the woods this time of year, and the yellow dog seemed to be taking them all in.
When they reached the place where they had cut off the younger Johnson, McCain called Jack in and kept him close as he looked for either blood or bear tracks. It took them a while, but McCain finally spotted blood on some grass. He had Jack come in to get a good whiff of the blood and the tracks in the dirt and grass.
“Go find him boy,” McCain said to the dog.
Jack started immediately working the scent. When he began tracking faster, McCain would say his name and tell him to “slow down.” The last thing he wanted was to have the dog rush headlong into a wounded bear. McCain continued to see dribbles of blood here and there as Jack worked the trail, but there were never any big splotches showing
