Wolves of Manchester (final part)

Merry Christmas

The Final Hunt
Bud parked his Buick under the oaks; his two sons jumped out and began looking for places to put up their targets, while he took the time to enjoy the freezing Canadian air that had engulfed the New England states. Feeling better than he had in over a year, he walked down to the snow covered ice on the lake shore; he loved being in the woods with his boys again. He raised his arms high and inhaled the scent of the forest deep into his lungs and exhaled his frosted breath into the afternoon air.
As he stood there, his sons came to stand beside him. He put his arms around their shoulders and told them he loved them, and was pleased to have bought them each a new revolver as a present for their help at Rosebuds, and loving care during his convalescence.
It was at that moment he saw a magnificent buck walk out of the willows on Loon Island.
He whispered to his sons. “Look at the rack of horns on that buck .I have never seen one with so many points, I will bet you it might be a New Hampshire Boone and Crockett record. It is trapped on that small island and with this new snow it will be easy to track and find.
What a trophy those horns would make mounted on the wall in your room boys.”
Karl looked at his brother and said, “Let’s kill him.”
Kevin embraced his brother, laughed and said.”Let´s kill it and cut of its head.” They raised their heads towards the sky and Bud saw for the first time his sons howl like wolves.
When they started across the ice, the buck disappeared into the willows along the shore. They howled again, the eerie sound echoed across the frozen water sent a shiver of foreboding down their father’s spine. Then he saw how thin the ice was when he stepped onto it. In panic he yelled.”Come back, come back, the ice is too thin.”
But the Brothers of the Wolf did not listen. For that was the moment the buck stepped out of the willow branches to stare at them again. As they stood there transfixed at the sight of the buck they heard the crystal eggshell of ice around them begin to crack and when it began to shatter the buck simply vanished.
The Gustavo twins fell together into the water. They clawed at the edge of the ice in hopeless desperation as the weight of their new revolvers pulled them under the ice. As they were sinking into the lake, they howled and screamed for God to save them.
But, God did not hear them, for he was listening to the prayers of a thirteen year old girl asking that her Name Sister be found.
When both Callahan’s arrived at the lake the first thing they saw was Bud Gustavo slumped on the ground next to his Buick.
Tears were streaming down his pale grey face and his features were contorted in agonizing pain. Clarence knelt down next to him and felt his pulse.
His heart was beating wildly, and it looked like he was going into shock.
He said Chris. “Call for paramedics and get a blanket out of my car.” And then he asked Bud. “Where are you sons, I need to speak to them.”
His answer was. “You can’t, they are at the bottom of the lake. They are dead now. If I had not seen that damned deer, they would have never gotten out on the lake. It is my fault, they were everything to me, and now they are gone, all gone.”
“What deer are you talking about Bud?” Chris wanted to know. “The huge buck we saw on Loon Island he gasped in torment and pain.” Then his body went into convulsions and his heart stopped beating.
When the medics were loading Bud’s body into the ambulance; Chris noticed how the stones in part of the wall had been moved and poorly replaced.
He said; “Clarence these stones have been recently been moved, some don’t have moss on them and the ones that do are upside down. This has to be where they buried Sylvia Pinkerton; she must be here under the stones.”
It was when the grave site was being examined by a team of forensic experts that the vodka bottle was found with bloody finger prints etched on it in the blood of Eliza Sanchez.
While the search and rescue team were recovering the twins bodies, Chris and Clarence searched Loon Island. They never found hair or a hoof print.
The snow has gone; spring finally arrived and the tulips in front of the home on Little Sunapee Lake are blooming, it is the perfect setting for Pamela and Scott's wedding.
Rosalie has sold Rosebuds and retired to West Palm Beach. . Sylvia and her mother Beverly are in the kitchen getting ready to deliver the wedding cake and Smile cookies. I am finishing the final editing of my new book, “The Mysteries under New Hampshire’s Stone Walls”.
THE END