Murder in the Forest, Chapter 24
As they entered the forest, Seaver was impressed by the tall trees, mainly evergreens, and the rich smell of the earth after a shower the previous night. She looked uneasily at the trunks and the other vegetation, wondering who or what might be watching her at this very moment. She was glad to be protected by the men with rifles and their knowledge.
Several hundred yards down the trail, Blacklaws and van Reenan paused and discussed something they'd seen in the moist dirt. Dr. von Rauenthal and his wife wandered over and looked at the tracks the men were observing. "Ach, a lynx, ja?"
Frau van Rauenthal agreed with her husband's assessment, and then they looked expectantly at the other men.
"Yes," agreed the big blond ex-Afrikaaner biologist. "A good guess. Specifically, Lynx rufus, what we call a bobcat. It's usually less heavily furred than the Canadian lynx and there are other minor differences, with the bobcat usually being lighter weight and living in more southern latitudes. But the bobcat is indeed a form of lynx. Here, it replaces the Caracal lynx or rooikat of my former country. You have a good eye, Doctor. I'll ask your assessment of those other tracks when we get to the death scene."
The German nodded. "By the by, gentlemen, you may as well address me or Ilse by our first names. 'Doctor von Rauenthal' can apply to either of us. She is, after all, a psychiatrist, with a doctorate of her own. And she holds a German hunting license and can interpret animal tracks very nearly as well as I can. You are fortunate to have both of us to corroborate your own opinion. I wouldn't like to think what conventional scientists will say if you declare those tracks to be a Bigfoot or Sasquatch. But I am happy to back up your opinion. That is exactly what we saw: tracks of just such a beast."
They agreed that the bobcat tracks had been left since their earlier visit to the scene and were watchful for any other animals that might be in the area.
"Are bobcats dangerous?" asked Seaver.
Blacklaws shook his head. "Not usually. If you corner one in a garage or in a barn, it might well attack, and they're tough customers. One will see off a larger coyote more often than not, and that's saying something. I say, it's a damned shame that JJ is missing this adventure. It may be her best chance to see a bear on this trip."
Several of their number laughed and had to explain to the others about Jareau's horror of bears.
"If you ask me, she's right to worry about bears," said Deputy Jeff Franklin. "After all, what are we going to see but what a bear did when it decided to?"
And on that somber note, they pressed on.
About halfway to the kill, they paused to look at another set of tracks. Seaver was relieved to learn that these were fox tracks. Then she was less relieved when she learned that the spacing of the tracks showed that the animal had been running.
"I think something scared it," opined Waters. "Of course, it could have been running to see a Taylor Swift concert in town. You guys know if there's a show like that there tonight?"
This was met by a chorus of groans, but some found the idea so off the wall that they laughed, anyway. And then had to explain the joke to the von Rauenthals, who were wondering if he had spoken literally and why everyone was reacting as if to a joke? Assured that it was a joke, if a poor one, they laughed harder than their American hosts.
And so, their courage bolstered by laughter, they pressed on, dreading what they expected to find. Blacklaws quietly expressed to van Reenan his hope that nothing had happened to the two deputies left to protect the crime scene.
"They got their patrol rifles from their cars," the scientist explained. "But you know that those 5.56mm arms shoot a load suitable for coyotes or bobcats, not for bear or for deer, although some states allow them for deer. Still, that's a marginal cartridge in warfare if the range is much extended, and our troops in Iraq and in Afghanistan have complained. I'd not like to have to shoot an angry bear, let alone a Sasquatch with one." And he looked genuinely worried.
"We'd probably have heard shots if they had to defend themselves," Blacklaws reflected.
And then they were there. Even before they saw the scene around a bend in the trail, they smelled the dead man. And then they saw the yellow Crime Scene tape cordoning off the area around the body and more tape where the vital tracks were located, in three places.
Both deputies were standing upwind of the gentle breeze, far enough back from the body to inhale a minimum of the putrid odor. One look at the remains and everyone saw what a bear was capable of doing. And this man was not only dead, he was partially consumed.
The cause of death, despite claw and teeth marks, was probably a blow to the head that had ripped it half off, breaking the man's neck in the process. A bite had severed the spine and finished removing the head. It sat to one side of the corpse, eyes staring blankly ahead, the gaze frozen in death and in time. The facial features were still discernible and Blacklaws rolled the head to face him with a stick that he found on the ground.
"Hell, that's Bob Jackson!" he exclaimed. "His dad runs a feed store in town."
A look around and some helpful comment from the two deputies who had been awaiting them showed why Jackson had been there. His tackle box and a fishing rod case were nearby, the aluminum rod case dented by a violent blow. He was shod for terrain like this in low Vasque trail boots and his garb was that of a local angler.
His Hamilton watch was still on one bloody wrist, and his wallet was in his left rear pocket. It contained several credit cards, a driver's license that confirmed his identify and almost $200 in cash. Robbery did not seem a motive for his death. There was no handgun or other weapon beyond a Buck Model 105 sheath knife, still on his belt. A small pack contained a blanket and a few camp items and medicines in case he had to spend the night. The pack had been ripped open and cans of food were torn open and consumed. There were big teeth marks in the cans. One sardine can was crushed.
The Medical Examiner arrived with the CSI team and they discussed the situation. It was apparent that the damage was done by a bear, and that no human involvement seemed likely.
Blacklaws and the CSI team photographed the body and the tracks. The tracks by the body and the claw marks on it were obviously those of a black bear weighing some 400 pounds or a little less, as van Reenan had suggested. Indeed, he was probably the man most qualified to assess such matters, being a professional wildlife biologist who often studied bears.
"Okay," said the ME at last as they looked at other tracks a few feet from the deceased, "Now we come to the elephant in the room: what we all see and don't want to have to discuss. We have to say what left these tracks. Dr. van Reenan, will you say officially what you think left these prints?"
And they stared down at huge footprints that were basically human but were clearly different in shape and in load bearing capacity. And they all sensed that these were not fakes. The angles of some on a slope and the lines, whorls and ridges in the soles in the more moist ground proclaimed that these were not the work of a prankster or of a criminal trying to disguise a crime scene. These were something real and of a quality seldom seen, unquestionably the sign of a tall, powerful primate not known to official Science. They were conclusive evidence for proof of Bigfoot!
Chris van Reenan said so for the record, and Seaver shuddered. What the hell had she gotten herself into?! Would Hotch think she was joking or drunk when she called him with this information?