“Were your parents with the church group?” Olivia asked gently.
“No, they stayed home. In Morganton. That’s where we’re from—Morganton, North Carolina. It’s about 150 miles from here. But my mom’s here now.” Heather’s lips trembled even more as two tears slid down her cheeks.
Heather’s mother, sitting somewhere Jack couldn’t see, said, “I came as soon as they called me this morning.”
The sad-looking girl in the hospital bed was about 16, Jack guessed, the same age as Yonah. Her bandaged leg lay on top of the bedding, but the rest of her thin body stayed beneath the white hospital sheets. Greta, the TV newswoman, had claimed that a pound of flesh had been torn from Heather’s thigh, yet there was no way to tell how deep the wound was because of those thick bandages covering Heather’s leg from her hip to below the knee.
Jack’s father must have been standing in a corner behind the door. Jack couldn’t see him but heard him ask Heather’s mother, “Do I have your permission to take a few photos for the park reports?”
Mrs. McDonald murmured, “Yes,” and there was a sudden flash from Steven’s camera. Heather blanched as the camera flashed two more times.
“So you found the tombstones, Heather,” Olivia went on, “and then what did you do?”
“I put down my backpack—”
“Did you have food in your backpack?” Olivia interrupted.
“Uh-huh. I had a chicken sandwich on a wheat bagel. And some potato chips.”
Jack could see his mother exchange a glance with Kip, but Olivia asked only, “What happened next, Heather?”
“Well, I started to take pictures of the tombstones. With my digital camera. It’s over there in the drawer, if you want to see it.”
“Maybe later,” Kip said. Then, raising his hands to his face as though holding a camera, he continued, “When you took the pictures, did you have the camera up like this? Near your face?”
“Well, yes, I was holding it up to see the little screen—you know, that shows what the picture will look like? I guess, I suppose…it was in front of my face.”
Kip took a deep breath. “Then this might be what caused the attack. The bear probably thought you were eating something, Heather. First, he smelled the food in your backpack. Bears have a powerful sense of smell,” Kip explained to Heather’s mother. “Even from way back in the woods, bears can smell food a mile away. When he came close and saw you holding your camera up near your face, he thought the camera was food, and he wanted it. So what did you do then?”
“Well…I…” Heather glanced down, glanced away, ran her fingers through her tangled brown hair. “I guess I did something really stupid. I took pictures of the bear.”
“Oh…my!” Blue breathed. He’d been writing in the small notebook, but now he paused, his pen raised, as he looked over at Heather.
“Like I said, it was stupid…a huge mistake. Huge!” Heather cried, her voice breaking as she began to sob. “I know that now! Because the bear came at me and he tried to grab the camera and I started hitting him with it and he bit me on the leg. I screamed, but he kept biting me, and I kept screaming, and then this man came and—”
“It’s all right, Heather, we know the rest of it from the report you gave to Ranger Delaney.” Olivia pressed her hand lightly against the girl’s cheek, trying to soothe her. “And we talked to the man who saved you.”
“Excuse me!” The words came from right behind Jack and made him jump. He whirled around to see a white-coated woman with a stethoscope sticking out from her pocket. “I need to get in this room,” she said.
“Oh, sorry!” Jack moved out of the way as the woman pushed through the door, leaving it even farther ajar.
“I’m Dr. Graham. You wanted to talk to me?” she asked Kip.
Kip nodded and moved back so the doctor could come closer to Heather’s bed. “We’ll need a description of Heather’s wound for our report, Doctor. Can you tell us about it—in layman’s language, please, so Ranger Firekiller here knows how to spell the words?” Kip threw a quick grin at Blue.
The doctor didn’t smile at all. In a clipped voice that sounded as though she had other emergencies waiting for her and she couldn’t spare too much time, she said, “I anesthetized the wound and examined it to see how deep it was. Then I debrided it.”
“De-breed?” Blue asked, raising his pen from the pad and scrunching up his brow. “What does that mean?”
“It means to cut away some of the damaged tissue.”
“You cut away more tissue?” Now Blue’s eyebrows lifted way up. “She already had this big hole in her leg. Why didn’t you just stitch it up?”
Impatiently the doctor said, “It’s difficult to stitch animal bites. By definition they are contaminated. Making sutures—you call them stitches—would be like leaving foreign bodies inside the wound—a perfect place for infection to localize. Bear saliva is very germy. But we were able to check for rabies, and the results came back negative. No rabies, so that’s good news.”
The doctor’s tone changed as she leaned over Heather to ask, “Feeling any better, honey? The pain pills and antibiotics ought to be helping.” Then, straightening, the doctor turned toward Olivia. “She’ll need plastic surgery to repair the wound, but her mother prefers to take her to the family’s own physicians in North Carolina, isn’t that right, Mrs. McDonald? Heather will be fit to travel by tomorrow.” Giving Heather’s hand a squeeze, the doctor told her, “I have to go now, sweetie, but I’ll back to check on you later, after all these people are gone.”
“Thanks for your time, Doctor,” Kip said.
“You’re welcome. By the way, who is that boy lurking around the door?”
Busted! Jack backed off fast, but not fast enough. It was Blue who came out to tell him, “Look, Jack, we’re still going to be here for a while, and you shouldn’t be out here—what did the doctor call it? ‘Lurking?’” Blue lowered his dark eyebrows in what could have been a frown, except that the corners of his mouth twitched in a little smile.
“Sorry,” Jack muttered.
“Anyway, I need you to do me a favor,” Blue said.
“Sure!” Jack exclaimed, glad that Blue didn’t seem angry. “What can I do for you?”
Motioning Jack to walk down the hall away from Heather’s room, Blue explained, “There’s a boy who’s been living at our house for a few days because he needs a place to stay. This boy’s mother is a real good friend of my wife, and the mother was in a bad car wreck last week. Really serious. She’s right here in this hospital, room 234. I need you to go to that room and tell Merle we’ll be ready to leave in a little while, and I want him to meet us in the parking lot so I can drive him back to our house.”
“Merle?” Jack asked. “Is that his first name?”
“Yeah, Merle. His last name’s Chapman. His mother is Arlene Chapman. She’s the patient in room 234, in the next wing over that way.” Blue pointed. “Tell Merle I’ll call his mother’s room when we’re ready to go. You stay there with him ’til the call comes.”
“OK.” That didn’t sound like anything Jack would really want to do, but at least he wasn’t getting slammed for eavesdropping. Blue turned to go back into Heather’s room, this time closing the door tightly behind him.
CHAPTER THREE
Arrows at