The Mountain King by Rick Hautala Page B

to be closed casket? What happened to him? You went out there that night. You saw what happened to him!” 
“Yeah, I did,” LaBrea said mildly, trying his best to maintain control over this increasingly volatile situation. The memory of how horribly mutilated Dennis Cross’s body had been sent a wave of nausea racing through him. 
“So why are you covering up for Newman?” 
A chorus of loud approval wafted through the crowd like a breeze fanning sparks into a blaze. 
“Yeah, what the hell happened out there?” 
“We’ve got a right to know!” 
“If Newman didn’t do it, then who did?” 
Glancing at Barker for support, LaBrea hushed the crowd with an angry wave of his hand. “I’m not covering up for anybody! Look, we’re not judge and jury here, all right? Most of you know something pretty similar happened to some of Josh O’Connell’s cows.” 
“Maybe he done that to set up, like, an alibi or something,” someone offered. 
“All I can say is, the staties are working on it. What we have to do is a single, simple job—to assist in a search party for two men—one who’s missing, and one who’s wanted for questioning. And that’s all! As of right now, there are no suspects in the case. I don’t want anyone thinking this is some kind of manhunt, that we’re out to bring anyone to justice.” 
“Just tell us—” Dan started to say. 
“I’ve heard all I want to hear from you, Jenkins! We’ve got a big piece of forest to cover, and I’m gonna need a lot of help out there today, but I can make damned sure you don’t go.” 
He scanned the crowd while he pointed angrily at Dan. 
    “You’ll all find out what we know when there are some solid answers. We’re not holding anything back from you for any reason.” He glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost six-thirty. Gibbons should be here in a few minutes. He’ll do a breakdown of the search areas we have to cover before we head out. We’ve even got a state helicopter for a couple of days. Oh—just one more thing. I don’t want any of you fellas bringing any rifles out into the woods.” 
A loud chorus of disapproval filled the room. The scattered catcalls and jeers didn’t abate for a while, and LaBrea had to shout to be heard. 
“You heard me! No guns. With tempers heated up the way they are, I don’t want anyone taking any potshots at anyone.” 
“Now wait just a damned minute—” 
    It was Barney Reynolds speaking. LaBrea let the old man have the floor if only to keep Dan Jenkins shut up. 
    “I can appreciate you not wanting to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, about your investigation,” Barney said. “I mean—hell, whether it was Mark or someone else, somebody did a number on Dennis Cross. But you can’t tell me you want us up there on Agiochook without protection.” 
“Protection from what?” LaBrea asked, instantly regretting that he left Barney an opening to continue. 
“Why, from whatever the hell’s up there on the mountain,” Barney said. “Lots of you younguns might not recall some of the things that’ve happened around here over the years. But you all have heard about what happened out to Josh O’Connell’s a few nights ago....” 
“Let’s not trot that out again, Barney,” LaBrea said. “As far as I could tell, it looked like a bear or a wolf got into his barn and killed a calf.” 
Barney smirked and shook his head. “To my way of thinking, there’s a damn sight bit of difference between a bear’s tracks and a wolf’s tracks. ‘N anyway, I just don’t see how you ‘spect us to go off into the woods and not be able to defend ourselves if we have to. What if there’s a bear or something out there that’s plumb loco?” 
“Yeah,” Dan added, “or a killer who’s already killed one person.” 
“One?” Barney said, cackling. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout dozens of people ... maybe hundreds over the years. We ain’t gotta worry none