Tin Foil (Imogene Museum Mystery #4) by Jones Jerusha

Author:Jones, Jerusha [Jones, Jerusha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jerusha Jones
Published: 2013-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

The entire campground froze in silent breathlessness for a fraction of a second, including the crickets. We lurched upright in our chairs and stared at each other.

Herb was the first to do anything meaningful. He sprinted for the picnic table and his rifle.

Pete jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over. He ran after Herb, then turned at the corner of the trailer. “Meredith, Harriet — stay together.” Then he was gone.

Harriet and I huddled by the fire.

“I never—” Harriet was trembling. “Such a sound—”

I rubbed her goose-bumped arm and shivered. All my hair was standing on end too.

Then panic somersaulted through my chest — Tuppence. Where was she? I darted frantic glances under the trailer, under the picnic table, scanned the riverbank. Not in sight.

I whistled for her.

Nothing.

I started hearing human shouts, warnings, children crying — big, terrified sobs. And then I heard my dog.

Tuppence has an eerie howl that’s interspersed with yippy barks when she’s excited. Sometimes I think she’s half wolf, although she’s all hound by the looks of her long, floppy ears, lanky frame and white-tipped tail. I’d know that urgent wail anywhere.

Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. “Harriet, I have to go.”

Harriet grabbed my hand with fierce strength. “I’m coming with you.”

We ran.

People had congregated at the playground — a tight group of adults who’d shoved the children inside their circle. Harriet and I staggered to a stop near them.

I spun around. Where was she?

A man pointed — toward the brush at the edge of the campground property.

In the fading light, I picked out Herb, rifle raised and sighted. Pete held a branch wide at his side, essentially doubling his size. When you’re facing down a cougar, you’re supposed to make yourself look bigger. The two men stood about twenty feet apart.

Then I saw bits of white in the brush and realized Tuppence was the point of their triangle. She danced sideways a few feet and released another crazed howl.

“Harriet, stay here, please.” I pried her fingers off my hand. “Please?”

The man who’d pointed stepped forward and put an arm around her shoulders. He nodded at me, his eyes hard with worry. Harriet bit her lip, but she eased back into the circle with him.

I approached slowly, not seeing the cougar until it snarled and took a lunging swipe at Tuppence. She jumped away, just inches to spare, as though she was teasing the big cat, maybe wearing it out.

I stopped at Herb’s left shoulder. His eyes never left the cougar, his fingers white on the rifle barrel, but he held the gun steady.

“Call Tuppence off,” he said, his words clipped. “She’s not responding to me.”

I knelt and whistled softly.

Tuppence’s ears flicked, but she remained focused on the cat.

“I have to shoot it, Meredith. If Tuppence is in the way—”

“I know,” I whispered.

I called her name, keeping my voice low. “Come here, girl. Come on.” I patted my leg.

Tuppence crouched, her hip bones sticking up above her lean body. She looked back over her shoulder — just a glance — then she was eyes-on the cougar again.

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