There was also the smell; a light but potent stew of sweet-smelling sage, spilled blood, exposed entrails, and the half-digested breakfast of the squat EMT. Joe gagged and tried to swallow.
He turned away, closing his eyes tightly and trying to breathe steadily. He heard Barnum snort behind him.
“Something the matter, Joe?” Barnum asked.
Then, damn it, Joe could no longer fight the wave of nausea and he threw up his morning coffee onto the soft ground.
J oe was there for most of the morning, keeping his distance as the hillside was photographed, measured, and tied off with yellow crime-scene tape wrapped around hastily driven T-posts. Additional deputies had arrived from Saddlestring, as well as a Wyoming highway patrolman who had heard the chatter on his radio.
Sheriff Barnum seemed more distressed than Joe had ever seen him, barking orders at his underlings and marching up and down the hillside with no apparent intent. Several times, he climbed into his Blazer and slammed the door to work the radio channels.
Bud Longbrake stood near Joe, leaning against the grille of his pickup. Longbrake was a large man, with wide shoulders, silver hair, and thick ears that stuck out almost at right angles from his temples. His face was weathered, his eyes sharp blue, his expression inscrutable. He wore a starched, white cowboy shirt and a silver belt buckle the size of a softball that celebrated an ancient rodeo win. Longbrake watched the procedures carefully but dispassionately, as if trying to guess the conclusions of the investigators before they announced them.
“I ain’t never seen a body in that shape before,” Longbrake told Joe after nearly an hour of silence.
“Nope.”
“I’ve seen calves hamstrung and gutted by coyotes while they were still alive, and I’ve seen a damn wolf eat the private parts out of a calf elk while the elk bawled for his mama, but I never seen a man like that.”
Joe nodded, agreeing. The EMTs were trying to slide Tuff’s body into a body bag without any of his parts detaching. Joe looked away.
“I never knew a bear could do that to a man,” Longbrake said.
It took Joe a moment, then he turned toward the rancher.
“ What did you just say?”
Longbrake shrugged. “I said I never heard of no grizzly making cuts like that.”
“Grizzly?”
“Didn’t Barnum tell you?”
Joe kept his voice low so he wouldn’t be overheard. “The sheriff has told me exactly nothing.”
“Oh. Well, when I drove up here this morning in the dark I saw a big-ass grizzly bear feeding on something. Caught him in the headlights from a long way away. He looked up with a big piece of meat in his mouth. When I drove up here I found Tuff.”
Joe was perplexed. This explained the horrible chunks of flesh missing from Tuff’s legs, and maybe even his disembowelment. But . . .
“But how could a grizzly bear do that to his face?” Joe asked.
Longbrake shrugged again. “That’s what I was talking about. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Maybe that bear just peeled it off. You know, like when you’re skinning an animal.”
Joe shivered thinking about it. For a second he imagined the two-and-a-half-inch teeth of a grizzly bear tearing back human skin, like peeling a banana. He quickly shook off the vision.
Longbrake shook his head, then squinted. “And Jesus, to get your balls bit right off by a bear like that. Poor dumb Tuff. He was probably glad that bear finished him off after he did that. ”
Joe didn’t respond. What he had seen of the body, as quick as it had been before he got sick, didn’t seem to fit the scenario Longbrake was suggesting. Tuff’s face hadn’t been chewed off by a bear. It had been removed. Joe thought of how clean and straight the cut was. Same with his genitals, Joe thought. They weren’t ripped out. They were cut out. He felt a second wave of nausea and breathed deeply again, looking away. At least there was no more in his stomach to throw up.
There was a
He turned away, closing his eyes tightly and trying to breathe steadily. He heard Barnum snort behind him.
“Something the matter, Joe?” Barnum asked.
Then, damn it, Joe could no longer fight the wave of nausea and he threw up his morning coffee onto the soft ground.
J oe was there for most of the morning, keeping his distance as the hillside was photographed, measured, and tied off with yellow crime-scene tape wrapped around hastily driven T-posts. Additional deputies had arrived from Saddlestring, as well as a Wyoming highway patrolman who had heard the chatter on his radio.
Sheriff Barnum seemed more distressed than Joe had ever seen him, barking orders at his underlings and marching up and down the hillside with no apparent intent. Several times, he climbed into his Blazer and slammed the door to work the radio channels.
Bud Longbrake stood near Joe, leaning against the grille of his pickup. Longbrake was a large man, with wide shoulders, silver hair, and thick ears that stuck out almost at right angles from his temples. His face was weathered, his eyes sharp blue, his expression inscrutable. He wore a starched, white cowboy shirt and a silver belt buckle the size of a softball that celebrated an ancient rodeo win. Longbrake watched the procedures carefully but dispassionately, as if trying to guess the conclusions of the investigators before they announced them.
“I ain’t never seen a body in that shape before,” Longbrake told Joe after nearly an hour of silence.
“Nope.”
“I’ve seen calves hamstrung and gutted by coyotes while they were still alive, and I’ve seen a damn wolf eat the private parts out of a calf elk while the elk bawled for his mama, but I never seen a man like that.”
Joe nodded, agreeing. The EMTs were trying to slide Tuff’s body into a body bag without any of his parts detaching. Joe looked away.
“I never knew a bear could do that to a man,” Longbrake said.
It took Joe a moment, then he turned toward the rancher.
“ What did you just say?”
Longbrake shrugged. “I said I never heard of no grizzly making cuts like that.”
“Grizzly?”
“Didn’t Barnum tell you?”
Joe kept his voice low so he wouldn’t be overheard. “The sheriff has told me exactly nothing.”
“Oh. Well, when I drove up here this morning in the dark I saw a big-ass grizzly bear feeding on something. Caught him in the headlights from a long way away. He looked up with a big piece of meat in his mouth. When I drove up here I found Tuff.”
Joe was perplexed. This explained the horrible chunks of flesh missing from Tuff’s legs, and maybe even his disembowelment. But . . .
“But how could a grizzly bear do that to his face?” Joe asked.
Longbrake shrugged again. “That’s what I was talking about. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Maybe that bear just peeled it off. You know, like when you’re skinning an animal.”
Joe shivered thinking about it. For a second he imagined the two-and-a-half-inch teeth of a grizzly bear tearing back human skin, like peeling a banana. He quickly shook off the vision.
Longbrake shook his head, then squinted. “And Jesus, to get your balls bit right off by a bear like that. Poor dumb Tuff. He was probably glad that bear finished him off after he did that. ”
Joe didn’t respond. What he had seen of the body, as quick as it had been before he got sick, didn’t seem to fit the scenario Longbrake was suggesting. Tuff’s face hadn’t been chewed off by a bear. It had been removed. Joe thought of how clean and straight the cut was. Same with his genitals, Joe thought. They weren’t ripped out. They were cut out. He felt a second wave of nausea and breathed deeply again, looking away. At least there was no more in his stomach to throw up.
There was a
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