Free Dark Tiger by William G. Tapply Page A

unknown bird flu mutation or a virulent new strain of the West Nile virus going around in the wilds of northern Maine.”
    â€œIs that what you think?” said Calhoun. “The two of them got some rare disease?”
    â€œLike I said,” she said, “I’m trying not to speculate. I don’t have a hypothesis at this point. I’m just telling you what worries me. I’m hoping the CDC will identify it for us and tell us it’s not something we need to be worried about.”
    â€œWhen do you expect to hear from them?”
    â€œHard to say,” said Dr. Grimshaw. “I’ve asked them to consider it urgent. Could be this afternoon. Of course, knowing how the bureaucracy works, it might not be for another few weeks.”
    â€œWill you let me know?” said Calhoun.
    She cocked her head and peered at him. “I would like to understand your interest in the case.”
    He shrugged. “Some cases slop over county lines.”
    â€œAroostook is pretty far from Cumberland,” she said.
    â€œYou can drive from one to the other in half a day.”
    She smiled. “I’ll let you know what I hear from the CDC. I don’t have a problem with that, reciprocity or not. It is prettyintriguing. And if you can figure out why somebody shoots two dead people and wants it to look like a suicide and a murder rather than whatever it is, I’ll be all ears.”
    Calhoun recited his cell phone number to her, and she wrote it down on the inside of the manila folder. She glanced at her wristwatch, then looked up at him. “Was there anything else, Deputy Calhoun?”
    He shrugged. “I was wondering whether you heard anything from the folks up in Aroostook County about who they think did the shooting—and why.”
    â€œYou probably will want to talk with them,” said Dr. Grimshaw. “Last I heard, they hadn’t progressed very far with their investigation. The two bodies were found in a car parked beside an old logging road in the woods. The police up there interviewed some people—the girl’s father, a boyfriend, a few people who might’ve seen Mr. McNulty and the girl together. No suspects, no arrests.” She tapped the manila folder. “Their entire report takes up less than three pages.”
    â€œAs if they’re not pursuing it very hard,” said Calhoun.
    â€œThere are aspects of the case that might be embarrassing to people,” said Dr. Grimshaw. “There might be some, um, pressure not to pursue it too hard.” She shrugged. “I don’t know that for a fact. Reading between the lines. They don’t have a murder. The only apparent crime is shooting bullets into already-dead bodies. If they did find somebody to arrest, it’s unclear what they’d charge him with.”
    Calhoun nodded. “They’ve got a point.” He stood up. “I won’t take any more of your time. Thanks for seeing me.”
    Dr. Grimshaw stood up, also. She was nearly as tall as Calhoun. She went to her office door and opened it. “I’ll let you know when I hear something from the CDC.”
    Calhoun nodded. “Thank you.”
    She held out her hand, and he shook it.
    â€œGood luck, Deputy.”
    â€œThanks for your help.”
    â€œOne of these days,” she said, “maybe you’ll tell me what your real interest is in this case.”
    â€œOh,” he said, “I’m just doing my job.”
    â€œOf course.” She smiled, then handed him a business card. “Call me.”
    Â 
    After supper that night Calhoun opened a duffel bag on his bed and filled it with clothes for a month at the Loon Lake Lodge. Plenty of warm socks, flannel shirts, a few pairs of blue jeans, a couple of windbreakers. Boots and moccasins. Sweaters. Underwear. Toilet articles. Books. The charger for his cell phone, though he doubted that there would be service at Loon Lake.
    It didn’t