Search for the Gatherers (Joe Higgins

Book 2) Irene Hill

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Search for the Gatherers

Irene Hill
 Copyright © 2020 Irene Hill

Copyright This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events
or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced
into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of
the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark
owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products
referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The
publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the
trademark owners.
 I dedicate this book to my family who supports my crazy writing career. And
especially my husband who sacrifices so much to give me time to work on my stories.

I would also like to give special thanks to Ralphaelita Pocatello Stump aka Redbird
"Inga-hootchoo" -Eastern Shoshone, Raphaella Stump aka Chief Eagle Woman -
Easter Shoshone and Chippewa-Cree, and Brenda Wesaw for helping me to better
understand the Eastern Shoshone history and way of life both past and present.
 Contents

Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Sneak peek Into Book Three search for Revenge
About The Author
Praise For Author
Books By This Author
 Prologue
“Why the hell do we need to exhume him? You haven’t
caused me enough pain for one week?”
“Joe, you need to see this email.” Brett was sick to his
stomach. This conversation wasn’t something he wanted to
experience.
Joe walked around the desk, and Brett pulled the email up on the
computer screen. Brett stepped away from the desk and motioned
for Joe to take a seat in his chair. The email held two pictures that
Brett wanted Joe to see. Then he slid a few sheets of paper next to
the keyboard. The report included two things that had brought him
to the conclusion that they needed to exhume Brody’s body.
Joe stared at the computer screen and absently reached into
his back pocket for his can of chew. It wasn’t there. He had quit
chewing almost three years ago, but he desperately wanted a dip to
calm his nerves. He could easily identify the people in the picture he
was looking at as religious extremists. Several women in full length
dresses, their hair in long conservative braids or buns, stood in the
middle of the picture with a group of children between them. The
younger girls resembled the women, and the boys were all dressed
in button-down shirts and blue jeans. Joe didn’t understand why this
picture was important. He definitely didn't understand why it
justified ripping open his deepest wounds. He scrolled down the
page to a second picture and his heart stopped. The second image
was a cropped and zoomed version of the first image. It featured
three young boys, elementary aged if Joe had to venture a guess.
The evidence Brett wanted him to see starred unmistakably up at
him. The quality of the picture didn’t affect the implication Brett was
making. It wasn’t incontrovertible, but it was enough.
Brett waited expectantly for Joe to reach for the papers next
to the keyboard. After a few minutes, Brett realized Joe hadn't
noticed the papers. Brett picked them up and held them to Joe. Joe
still didn’t move. Brett cleared his throat and finally, Joe looked up
and noticed what Brett was holding.
Joe took the papers from Brett but struggled to focus his brain
enough to process the words. He read the first page with his eyes,
although he couldn’t have repeated any of the information. He only
retained something about a woman in danger and a dead child. He
continued on to the second page, still struggling to focus. All at
once, the words demanded his attention.

We suspect that bodies of former members may be disposed

of in a way that makes identification difficult. Evidence is often left
by the group to suggest that the body belongs to someone else. This
practice makes it difficult to track and identify victims of God’s
Gatherers.
 Chapter 1
It was cool, but Joe still rolled the window down. It was a
good day, and he wanted to feel the wind on his face. Normally, the
drive from Casper to Lander was dull and monotonous, but today,
everything seemed a little better than usual. The fall colors were
more pronounced, and the sun was hitting everything in the right
way. Just before he left Casper, the psychologist officially cleared him
to return to duty.
The visit with the psychologist had been underwhelming. Joe
hadn’t known what to expect. He had prepared for a TV drama style
shrink session, where his relationship with his mother was heavily
examined and the psychologist didn’t stop until Joe was crying. In
reality, it had been far more mundane. The psychologist had initially
asked him about the fire, his life since, and his reasons for returning
to duty. Then he had gone through what seemed like a ream of
paperwork, asking Joe questions that Joe didn’t see the reason for.
Because of the length of the interrogation, the evaluation had taken
two appointments. Joe hadn’t been able to eat breakfast that
morning. Worry that the appointment would end badly had made
him nauseous. He didn’t want to hear that he wasn’t fit to return to
duty. Joe was thankful that had not been the outcome. He was
excited to stop in at the department and give Brett the news.
Brett re-hired Joe as a deputy shortly after the Nathan Miller
case had closed, contingent on him passing the psych evaluation.
Brett had tried to give him work helping scan old archives into
computer files, but no matter how Brett justified it, the HR
department insisted that Joe had to have a clean bill of mental
health first. Until that happened, he was still a civilian.
Joe hadn’t been completely removed from law enforcement
for the past few months, though. Ever since the Nathan Miller case,
Joe had been compiling information about God’s Gatherers in his
spare time. He had reached out to Brett’s contact in Reno a few
times. He had also made a trip to Evanston to meet with Hyrum
Atwood, and interview him about his time in the group’s compound.
He had met with Brett several times to share his information. It had
been a lot to fit in with fall ranch work and trying to relearn normal
human behavior, but the past two months had been better than any
other time over the last four years. Joe couldn’t deny that there had
been a lot of tough nights, even a few tough days. Nights were the
worst, filled with nightmares and insomnia. Several times, after
particularly rough nights, retreating back into his protective hermit
lifestyle had seemed like the best option. So far, though, he hadn’t
given in to that urge.
After some coaxing from Alesha and Ada, who tried
unconvincingly to deny being in cahoots, he started attending AA
meetings down at the Methodist Church. He’d had one slip since
he’d started attending, but at his next meeting he would receive a
one month chip. He was finally facing his grief and managing it,
rather than allowing it to manage him. Ada had even talked him into
going to a healer out on the reservation. After years of not believing
in spiritual nonsense, it had been hard to take seriously at first. He
had mostly done it to appease Ada, but since seeing the healer, he
had asked more about the traditions and started trying to make
sense of his own culture.
Joe was enjoying the wind and paying less attention than he
should have been to the road. The moment he realized he had
entered Shoshoni city limits, he saw the lights flash on in his rear-
view mirror. He cursed under his breath and brought the truck to the
side of the road. Four years ago there wasn’t an officer in Fremont
County that he didn’t know, but today, that wasn’t the case. He still
knew a lot of the officers, but there were newer, younger officers
that he wasn’t familiar with. He resisted the urge to dig his wallet
and registration out and instead put his hands on the top of the
wheel. He had a concealed carry permit, but his weapon was less
than concealed. It was sitting on the seat next to him, fully exposed,
and he didn’t need the officer seeing it and reacting before asking
questions. His skin had gotten him in trouble more than once, and
he didn't need that kind of trouble today.
 He watched the driver’s door open in his rear-view mirror and
breathed a sigh of relief. The officer emerging from the patrol
vehicle behind him was a familiar face. Officer Marshall had been
with the Shoshoni Police Department longer than Joe had been with
Fremont County. He'd had several interactions with her over the
years.
“License and registration,” the officer asked before fully
looking into the truck window.
“I have a concealed permit and my weapon is right here next
to me.”
“Thank you. Where is your license and registration? Wait,
Higgins isn’t it?”
“Yes ma’am. And my license is in my back pocket. Registration
is up in my visor.”
“Go ahead and scoot your gun across the seat and get your
documents.” The officer visibly relaxed her stance. “I hear you’re
coming back into our world.”
“That’s the plan”, Joe said, struggling to hide a small grin on
his face. Joe wasn’t one to display his emotions so easily, but getting
the all clear earlier had put an extra bit of bubble in his usual stony
personality. He moved his gun over, shifted his weight and removed
his wallet from his pants pocket.
“I should give you a seat belt ticket. Shouldn’t be out on this
highway without your seatbelt on.” The officer gave him the side
eye, and Joe was sure she wouldn’t ticket him, at least not for the
seatbelt. “You should also slow down when the limit changes,” her
tone flattened and cooled.
Joe wasn’t sure he would get out of the speeding ticket. He
knew she had a point. He had been doing almost twenty miles over
the limit when her lights had come on. “Sorry, having a good day,
wasn’t paying as much attention as I should be.”
“I’d love to give you a warning, but twenty-two miles over is
more than I can look past.” She took his license and registration and
returned to her patrol vehicle.
Joe could feel his blood pressure rising. He didn’t want to deal
with a speeding ticket, or the teasing that it would entail if other
guys at the department got wind of it. And yet, it still didn't shadow
his sunny day.
Officer Marshall returned to his window, handed his
documents back to him, and handed him his ticket. She hadn’t
included the seat belt violation, but the speeding alone was a
significant fine. He thanked her, although he wasn’t sure why, and
got back on the road to Lander.
By the time he pulled into the parking lot at the sheriff’s
office, his mood had deflated some. The more he thought about the
ticket, the more it affected him. It shouldn't have been a big deal,
but it frustrated him. He wasn’t normally so careless. He had rightly
been accused of reckless behavior several times in his life, but he
was never careless. He was glad to share his news with Brett
because the thought of telling Brett he was clear for duty cheered
him up.
He had been following the rules more than ever before since the
Nathan Miller case. He didn’t need one of the disgruntled deputies,
and there were few, turning him in for doing something stupid, he
didn’t need to mess up his return to the department. He entered the
building through the civilian entrance and Collins escorted him into
the department after he ran into her in the hallway. It had been that
way for several weeks and he looked forward to using the back
entrance again.
As he approached Brett’s office, he could see that Brett was
on the phone and the door was closed. Joe was still feeling awkward
around most of the deputies. He wasn’t sure where to stand or how
to spend his time while waiting for Brett to get off the phone. It was
more evident each time he was there that he had very few friends
left in the department. Joe noticed Ronnie approaching from the
other side of the room. The two of them weren’t on any better
ground than they had been two months ago, but improving their
relationship wasn’t high on Joe’s priority list. In Joe’s eyes Ronnie
would always be a cocky, obnoxious rookie who’s opinion didn’t
matter. Ronnie had been very vocal with his opinions when it had
become department wide knowledge that Joe was applying to return
as a deputy.
 “Joe, you here to talk to Brett?”
“Yep.” Joe wasn’t interested in engaging with Ronnie at the
moment.
“Well, I need to talk to him first. Been waiting half an hour.
Can’t figure out who he’s talking to in there.”
“Fine. You going to be long?”
“I doubt it. Guess it will depend on Brett.” Ronnie had been
hiding something for two days now and was finally ready to talk to
Brett about it. He had been out on patrol most of the day, and since
he'd been in the office, Brett had been on the phone. Ronnie didn’t
trust Joe to give him the first shot, so he stood there, awkwardly
holding his place in line.
Joe stared at Ronnie, unimpressed by his presence. It was
awkward enough waiting outside Brett's office like a small child in
line to see the principal. It was worse, standing there in silence with
the rookie he couldn’t stand.
The two of them stood there for fifteen minutes, with no eye
contact and no communication, but enough tension to fill the entire
office. Finally, Brett put down the phone, and after a few more
minutes, he stood from his desk and opened the door. Ronnie
stepped toward the office door so quickly that he almost body
slammed Brett, who was stepping through the doorway.
“What the hell are you doing Brager?”
“I need to talk to you, sir.”
“It’s going to have to wait. I have things to take care of.” Brett
stepped around Ronnie, although Ronnie didn’t make it easy for him.
He headed toward the door to the hallway and was several steps
past Joe before it registered in his mind that Joe was standing there.
Brett doubled back.
“Joe. You need something?”
“If you’re busy, it can wait.” Joe knew Brett well, and the look
on his face told Joe that this wasn’t the right moment to share his
news.
“Give me twenty minutes. You too Brager.” Brett walked off
with purpose in his step, which heightened Joe’s curiosity about the
phone call Brett had been on.
 Brett had not overestimated the time he needed. Joe and
Ronnie stood waiting for twenty minutes before Brett walked back
toward them. Ronnie stepped toward Brett’s office door and widened
his stance to assert himself as first in line.
Joe couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Obviously, what Ronnie
needed to talk to Brett about was important, or at least Ronnie
thought it was. Joe wasn’t about to get in a pissing match over who
got to be first in line. Joe’s news wouldn’t change, no matter how
long he had to wait, and it was good enough news it was worth
waiting for.
Brett’s day had been busy, and he hadn’t had time for lunch,
which was causing him to have a shorter than usual fuse. Ronnie
nearly shoved him into the office, and it annoyed Brett. He didn't
know what Ronnie wanted to talk about, and he wasn't sure he
cared. “What do you need, Brager?”
Ronnie closed the office door and then faced Brett, feeling
more anxiety than he had expected. “I just wanted to give this to
you Sheriff.” Ronnie handed Brett a legal-size envelope. “It’s my
letter of resignation, sir.”
Brett opened the envelope, removed the letter and read it
through. Then he made eye contact with Ronnie. “Where’d you
accept a new position?”
“Cheyenne. I got on with the PD. It’s a better fit for me.”
Ronnie had been looking for a new position for a while, but nothing
had panned out with any of the deputy positions he had applied for.
Making the switch to Cheyenne PD was a big change for him, but he
was looking forward to it. Being closer to Fort Collins and Denver
was a bonus. Lander, well most of Wyoming, had never been a
comfortable place for him. When he’d taken the position, he’d been
in a relationship with a Landerite, it was the only reason he’d ever
come to the God forsaken middle of nowhere. That relationship
ended less than six months after he started at the sheriff’s
department.
“Well, Ronnie, I’m sorry to see you go. You’ve been a good
deputy and a strong leader in this department.” Brett was being
honest about everything he said. He chose to leave out the fact that
it relieved him to see Ronnie’s hot attitude and political tendencies
leave the department though. Since he hired Joe back on as a
deputy, the tension between Joe and Ronnie had been on Brett's
mind several times. Joe wasn’t clear to return yet, but Brett knew
that the two of them would struggle to play nice with each other
once he was. It eased Brett’s mind to know that by the time Joe
returned to duty he and Ronnie would have limited overlap time.
“Halloween will be my last day. It’s been good working with
you Sheriff.” Ronnie hadn’t known how this interaction would play
out, but he knew that this wasn’t what he had expected. He knew
he had been a strong asset to the department, and he had hoped
for more disappointment from Brett. He should have known better,
though. Now that the golden child was returning Ronnie knew he
was no longer a valued member of the department. He didn't
understand why so many people liked Joe. It was Ronnie's opinion
that Joe was a reckless desperado who's time of usefulness in law
enforcement had expired.
Ronnie and Brett stared at each other for several seconds,
neither one knowing how to end the interaction. Finally, Ronnie
turned and walked out. As he passed Joe, he wanted to make a rude
comment but couldn't come up with anything on the fly. Instead, he
gave Joe a glowering look and shouldered him as he passed.
Joe walked into Brett’s office but didn't bother closing the
door. He didn't care who heard what he had to say. He plopped into
the chair in the corner and stretched his legs out toward the desk.
“Well, do you want the good news or the bad news,” he playfully
asked.
“This better be a joke. I can’t do bad news today.”
Joe sat up. “Bad day?”
“Bureaucracy,” Brett said bitterly.
“Well, I guess I’ll give you the good news then. Psychologist
up at DCI (Division of Criminal Investigation) says I’m sane.”
“That is good news. Sounds like I’m about to be down a
deputy, so I’m ready to put you to work. You ready to be the new
kid?”
 “What do you mean you’re about to be down a deputy? You
firing someone?”
“Nope. Ronnie just gave me his resignation. Moving to
Cheyenne, I guess.” Brett appreciated all the work that Ronnie had
done in the department. He was thorough in his work and
meticulous with his paperwork. But he was moody and had been
making comments for at least two years about how much he hated
Lander and how much he wanted to leave. Brett was more shocked
about the news than he logically should have been.
“Really? Wondered what he was so worked up about.”
“Well, you better hit me with your bad news.”
“Got a ticket in Shoshoni. Wasn’t paying attention when I
entered the speed zone. Marshall tagged me going twenty over.” Joe
shrugged.
“I can’t believe she ticketed you. She should know you.”
“She does. Said twenty over was too much to look past,
though. Not a big deal, but thought you ought to know.”
“I can deal with that bad news. Wish I would have known you
were going to Casper today. I’m gonna need you to go back
tomorrow.”
“What for?”
“Some dumb ass lost your swab and now DCI says we can’t
swab you here and send it up. They want to swab you themselves.”
“Where the hell did my swab go? I thought we’d have that
DNA match back this week?”
“I thought so too. Now, they are saying they haven’t even
started making a match because they can’t find your swab. It’s a
bunch of bullshit.”
The whole situation upset Brett. It wasn't only the lost DNA
swab. It was also because DCI was questioning him about the
necessity of the testing. Based on the report that he had received
from his friend in Reno, and the lack of information when Brody
died, Brett knew that it was more than necessary. But some
bureaucrat kept prattling on about lab backlogs and scarcity of
resources. Now, Brett was having to ask for favors from the county
prosecutor and a few of the county commissioners to help him fight
to get the test pushed through. He felt terrible when he'd asked Joe
to exhume Brody. He felt worse knowing that they weren’t getting
the information they needed from it.
Joe could sense that there was more going on then just a lost
swab. Joe wanted to dig deeper, but decided not to. If Brett wasn’t
telling him the whole story, there had to be a reason. Joe also knew
that his first day back to work wasn’t the time to pick a fight with his
boss.
“You want me to drive up there tomorrow? You don’t want me
here?”
“No, we need to get that swab done as soon as possible. I’m
not going to let them play bullshit games with this.”
“Am I going as a civilian?”
"Yeah, I suppose you are."
“I might have Ada ride up with me. We can stop in Shoshoni
and get milkshakes on the way back.”
“Sounds good.” Brett had directed his attention to the
computer, to let the clerk at DCI know that Joe would be there the
next day. Joe stood and started leaving the small office. Brett looked
up from his computer. “Joe.”
“Yeah,” Joe turned back to face Brett.
“A milkshake better be the only thing you get in Shoshoni.
Watch that lead foot.”
“Got it. No more Andretti moves through Shoshoni.” Joe and
Brett both chuckled as Joe walked out. He got in the truck and
headed to Westward Heights to invite Ada on a date to Casper.
 Chapter 2
When he arrived at the care center, Ada wasn’t in her normal
spot in the front lobby. He rarely visited her in the afternoon though,
so he didn't think much of it. He walked down the hallway toward
her room and found her sitting in her wheelchair. Alesha was sitting
on the edge of the bed and the two of them appeared to be deep in
conversation. He watched them from the hallway for several
minutes. They both had serious looks on their faces and Joe couldn’t
help but wonder what they were talking about. He knocked softly
on the door frame of her bedroom and entered. Both women looked
at him and smiled.
“Joe, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you go to your
appointment in Casper?”
Joe hadn’t planned to tell Ada how his appointment had gone.
He had hoped to wait until his first day back at work and then come
to visit her at the end of his shift in uniform. But since she asked, he
couldn’t keep the good news from her. “I just got back. I am
officially the newest deputy with the Fremont County Sheriff’s
Department.”
Ada smiled. Alesha stood up and hugged him. “I’m so proud
of you! I knew they wouldn’t be able to prove you're crazy.” She
laughed and patted his shoulder. “Since you’re here, I’d better go.”
“I’m not here to chase you off.”
“I know, but I should go. I’m going down to Cheyenne to see
Tucker this weekend, and I need to get some laundry done first.”
She hugged him again, hugged Ada, and left the room.
Joe hadn’t told Ada about Brody’s exhumation or the DNA
testing. He understood Brett’s hunch, and agreed with it, but that
didn’t mean digging up the body of his boy wasn’t painful. The
reason for the exhumation brought him twice the pain. He could not
allow Ada to feel the same pain. He had concocted a story to tell her
about running an errand to Casper for the department, which wasn’t
a complete untruth. She would have to wait in the truck while he
went in for his swab anyway, so she didn’t need to know what he
was doing in the DCI office.
“Brett needs me to go to Casper again tomorrow. Department
stuff. Thought you might want to go with me. We can grab
milkshakes in Shoshoni on the way back.”
“I don’t know Joe. That doctor’s fixing my medicine, I don’t
stand too good now. I don’t think I can get in and out of a car.”
“I can help you.”
“I’m not a sack of grain. You can’t throw me in your pickup.”
Ada spoke sharply, with a matter-of-fact tone. It was a tone that Joe
had learned to take seriously as a teenager, but hadn't heard in
several years.
Joe knew he wouldn’t win this argument. Ada had been
different for the past several weeks. She had consistently blamed it
on the medication changes she was going through, but Joe
suspected there was more going on. She hadn’t wanted him to
accompany her to her last two doctor’s appointments, which wasn't
normal. He had gone to all her appointments since the doctor
diagnosed her with Parkinson’s Disease. Joe worried about the
change in her demeanor and in their relationship. The most
concerning part was that it coincided with him deciding to hire some
help for the ranch and return to the sheriff’s department. Joe would
be lying if he said his feelings weren’t at least a little hurt by her
refusal. “Ok, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. I just
thought you’d want to get out of here for a day.”
“Good. I don’t want to go.” Ada didn’t meet Joe’s eyes. She
had too much to hide, and letting him see her eyes wouldn’t allow
her to continue keeping her secrets.
“Do you need me to get anything while I am in Casper?”
“No. I don’t need anything.”
Even though it had been a good day for Joe, emotions were
running high and he couldn’t handle the cold shoulder she was
giving him. He wondered if she was being this secretive with Alesha.
It had seemed that they were sharing something serious when he
had arrived. It hurt him to think Ada might be sharing more with
Alesha than she was with him. He wasn’t sure if Alesha had always
visited her so often because he hadn’t paid attention in the past.
Since the Nathan Miller case, though, he noticed that Alesha visited
Ada at least twice a week. Sometimes even he couldn't fit that many
visits into his schedule and he was her blood.
“Ok. I better get going. I’ve got things I need to do at home.”
He leaned over her wheelchair and hugged her, tighter and longer
than he usually did. “I love you Aunt Ada.”
Ada hugged him back but didn’t say anything to him. She
didn’t remember the last time Joe had told her he loved her. It made
her feel even worse about the secret she was keeping from him.
 Chapter 3
When Joe arrived back at the ranch, he had several things to
get done before dark. He had hired a kid from town, Carl Clark, to
help him out on the ranch, now that he was returning to the sheriff’s
department. He knew it wasn’t right to call Carl a kid. He was
twenty-three years old, but Joe still perceived him as a kid. Joe knew
Carl's parents and had watched him grow up. But that wasn't the
only problem. Carl didn’t have the level of maturity required for Joe
to see him as an adult. He was good at getting things done if Joe
told him what to do, but he wasn’t a good self starter, and he was
always hungover on Saturday mornings. Joe appreciated the work
Carl was getting done, but he did not enjoy the micromanagement it
required. Joe had too much going on to fire Carl and try to find a
new hand, but it was somewhere on his list of to-do. Somewhere
near the bottom.
Joe didn’t see any sign of Carl when he got out of the truck,
which he hoped meant that Carl was still out working on a stretch of
fence that Joe had asked him to fix. Several posts on that stretch
had started to rot out. Joe took his go bag and the mail into the
house and changed into his work clothes. He tackled his own to-do
list and didn’t worry about finding Carl, at least for a while.
Joe went to the shop to finish welding a broken hitch on the
feed wagon. He would need it soon and needed to quit putting it off.
As he was setting up his wire feed and getting everything ready to
weld, he couldn't quit thinking about his interaction with Ada. She
had been acting oddly since the Nathan Miller search, but today had
been the most extreme change he had noticed. He didn’t know why
it hurt him so much that she didn’t want to go to Casper with him,
but he couldn’t get over it.
Ada and Lew were the most constant thing in his life. When
she lost Lew, Joe had tried to be a rock for her. Then, seven months
later, the tables had turned and suddenly Joe was a widow and
grieving parent. As it had been much of his life, Ada was again his
rock. He’d tried not to lean on her, but he had no one else, and she
wouldn’t allow him to isolate from her. Now, for the first time in his
life, she was isolating herself from him.
He made three welds that had to be ground off because he
couldn’t focus on anything but Ada. He decided the best way to deal
with the situation would be to call Alesha and grill her for
information. Once he made that decision, he focused enough to
make a few passable welds. They weren't beautiful, but he thought
they should at least get the feed wagon through the winter. He shut
down the welder and walked to the house.
When he walked out of the shop, Carl’s pickup was in the
yard. At first, Joe didn’t see any sign of Carl. Then, he realized that
Carl was still in the pickup with the driver’s seat laid back, hat over
his eyes, sleeping. Joe leaned down and picked up a small rock,
intending to throw it through the open window at Carl, but he
changed his mind. He shook his head in disgust, dropped the rock
and walked into the house.
He picked up the cordless and started to dial Brett and
Alesha’s number. Before he finished dialing, he changed his mind,
hung up the phone and grabbed his truck keys. He could be more
persuasive in person, and it would be easier to read Alesha’s tone
and body language.
As he passed Carl’s pickup, he slapped the hood with his open
hand. Carl sat straight up and flipped his hat onto the dashboard.
“Go home, Carl. You’re done for today. I need you to check
water in the morning.”
“All right. See you later.” Carl fired the engine and pulled out
of the yard.
Joe remembered again that he needed to fire that kid. He got
in his truck, shoved an AC/DC cassette into the radio and headed
toward Brett and Alesha’s house.
When he got there, Alesha’s car was in the driveway, and the
front door was open. Mid October wasn’t always this warm, and
everyone seemed to be enjoying every bit that they could. Wyoming
weather could turn without notice and bury them in several inches of
snow at any time. Joe knocked on the open door frame and heard
Alesha yell come in from somewhere at the back of the house. It
made him uncomfortable walking in, unable to see anyone, even
though he had walked in unannounced hundreds of times before. He
walked in and headed toward her voice. He found her in the laundry
room, folding towels.
“Hey. How’d I get lucky enough to see you twice in one day?”
Alesha was thankful to have at least part of the old Joe back. She
tried to be as supportive of him as she could be, without treating
him the way Anne had when she had driven him away.
“I just need to ask you a question.”
“What’s that?”
“Is Ada ok?” Joe fixed his eyes on Alesha, ready to observe all
her communication, especially that beyond her words.
Alesha didn’t look up from the towel she was folding. She
focused deeply on making each fold crisp and exact. Her heart rate
increased, and she tried in vain to hide any reaction she was having
to his question. Ada had confided in her a month and a half ago and
instructed her not to share anything with Joe. Alesha had told Ada
she wasn’t comfortable keeping secrets, but it didn’t seem to matter
to Ada. She tried to compose herself before meeting Joe’s eyes.
“Why do you ask?”
“She just doesn’t seem right, and she’s being snippy with me.
Not like her.”
“Well, they are changing her medications.”
“Yeah, about that. Why are you taking her to her
appointments? I’m her son, it should be me with her.” The words
came out fast and meaner than Joe had intended. He rarely called
himself her son, although legally he was. The statement shocked
him and it was obvious by the look on Alesha’s face, it had shocked
her too.
“I didn’t ask to take her to those appointments. She asked
me. She’s trying to protect you!” Alesha gulped. She hadn’t meant to
say that last part out loud, but she couldn’t take it back now.
“Protect me from what?” Joe wanted to be angry, but what he
felt was fear. What would Ada possibly have to protect him from? He
was a forty-year-old man, not a child anymore.
 “Nope. Nope. Shouldn’t have said anything. You need to take
this up with her. I told her I didn’t want to be in the middle of all this
shit.” Alesha’s cheeks were instantly red. She worried this would
drive Joe away, and that was the last thing she wanted. She was
glad he had tackled his grief and returned to the department. But,
she knew he was still struggling, and she didn’t want to be the one
that pushed him back into his hermit lifestyle.
“She won’t talk to me!”
“I won’t get in the middle of this.”
“Then you come down to the nursing home with me and
convince her to tell me whatever the hell it is that she won’t tell me.”
“If she tells you what’s going on, are you going to be honest
with her?”
“About what?”
“Brody.” Alesha couldn’t keep her voice from cracking, even to
utter that single word.
“I might.” Joe wasn’t about to commit to anything until he
knew what Ada was keeping from him.
Alesha hesitated. She had things to do before she left for
Cheyenne the next day. However, if she went with Joe, and could
convince Ada to be honest with him, it might minimize the damage
to Alesha's relationship with Joe. It would also end this ridiculous
secret keeping that she had been drug into. “Fine, but I don’t know
if it will change anything. I’ve already told her she should talk to
you.”
 Chapter 4
Ada was back at her usual spot in the front lobby, enjoying
some post supper coffee. She saw Joe’s truck pull up and then
watched as he and Alesha came up the sidewalk toward the
building. Joe’s walk had purpose in it, and Alesha’s shoulders were
slumped. Ada knew her secret was out. She wasn’t ready for this
conversation, but braced herself as best she could. When Joe walked
in, he used his deputy tone on her.
“We need to talk, let’s go to your room.”
“We can talk here.”
“No, we can’t. I’ll push you to your room.”
“You won’t. I drive just fine without your help.” Ada put her
coffee cup down on an end table and propelled herself slowly down
the hall. She was thankful, for once, that she had to traverse the
entirety of the hall before she reached her room.
Once the three of them reached Ada’s room, Joe pulled the
door closed and sat on the bed, positioning himself next to Ada and
her wheelchair. Alesha stood near the door, looking like a scolded
child.
Joe still wanted to be mad, but couldn’t manage it. “What is
going on with your medications?”
“That doctor is changing them,” Ada said flatly.
“What doctor? Dr. Wilson?”
“No. I’m not seeing Dr. Wilson for this.”
It surprised Joe. Dr. Wilson had been following Ada since her
Parkinson’s diagnosis four years before. The only other doctor she
had seen, to Joe’s knowledge, was her primary care doctor with
Indian Health Services (IHS). “Who are you seeing? Ada, what is
going on?”
“She didn’t tell you?” Ada realized that she had braced herself
for the wrong conversation.
Alesha remained in the corner, but spoke up. “I told you I
wouldn’t tell him. I also told you I didn’t want to be in the middle of
everything.” She kept her head down and studied her stained canvas
tennis shoes.
“Joe,” Ada put her hand on his, “I’m sick.”
Joe didn’t respond.
“My shakes started getting worse and Dr. Wilson couldn’t fix
them. He sent me to his friend who scanned my head.” Ada paused.
She wasn’t ready to tell him the rest. She hadn’t wanted it to play
out this way.
Joe anticipated what was coming. He didn’t want her to
finish, but he needed to know for sure.
“They found cancer.”
“Are you taking chemo or radiation?”
“I’m not taking that poison to treat it.”
“So you’re not doing anything about it?”
“I’m taking some natural things.”
Joe stared at her. “So you’re doing nothing?”
“I’m not doing the chemo. I don’t want to live a half-life. It
doesn’t hurt, I just spill more coffee than I used to.”
Joe didn’t know what to say. Over the last two months, he
had almost felt like a functional human, and suddenly he had the
desire to hit up the liquor store and never leave the ranch again.
Even though Joe knew it would hurt Ada, he couldn’t think of
anything to do but get away from the situation. He stood from the
bedside and left Ada’s room. He couldn’t catch his breath. His heart
was pounding and his vision narrowed. His movements were
automatic, and he had no conscious control of the path he was
taking. When he consciously recognized where he was, and what
was going on, he was standing next to his truck, leaning on the
hood.
Thoughts he could not control bombarded his conscience. He
didn’t know how he could start working at the sheriff’s department
again. Working full time would limit his ability to be with Ada when
she needed him, and he didn't want that. He may have been forty
years old, but he was not prepared to lose another mother. Losing
his biological mother had been more than enough pain. He didn’t
know what he would do without Ada. What would he do with his
extra time? Who would he talk to that would understand him? When
Ada passed, Joe would have no one. He did not know how to
process any of those thoughts.
He did know that he could not tell Ada his secret. Unless he
had no other option, she would never know about the exhumation.
She did not need to carry that pain. It was one thing he knew he
could do for her, he could carry that burden alone.
Alesha couldn't decide what to do. Ada’s face had anguish
painted on it, but so did Joe’s. She didn’t know who to comfort. She
stood frozen, trying in vain to choose between two people that she
loved, when the nurse walked in with medications for Ada. It was
obvious immediately that the nurse noticed the tears on Ada’s
cheeks.
“Did you finally tell him?” The nurse asked as she knelt down
next to Ada’s chair.
Alesha knew this was her chance to go after Joe. The nurse
could comfort Ada. As Alesha walked down the hall, she realized Joe
could be gone by now. Not only was she worried about what he
might do, it left her without a ride. When she got to the front door,
she breathed a deep sigh. Joe and his truck were still in the parking
lot.
She approached him and reached for his shoulder, hoping to
convey a sense of comfort to him. She hadn’t been intentionally
quiet, but as soon as she touched him it became very clear Joe had
not heard her coming. Alesha had to dodge left to avoid a broken
nose.
“Shit Alesha, what the hell are you doing sneaking up on
me?”
“I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I was comforting you.” Alesha’s
emotions were running high and the last sentence came out as more
of a scolding than a comfort.
“How the hell’d she keep this from me? Why’d you let her?”
“I asked her not to. I asked her at least a hundred times to
take you to appointments rather than me. I wanted to tell you, but I
didn’t want to hurt either of you. And she made me promise not to
tell you, and being honest, she kind of scares me.”
 Joe’s expression didn’t change. “I should’ve been part of this.
I should’ve been there to comfort her. I’m her blood! You’re just her
dead daughter-in-law’s cousin!”
As soon as it left his mouth, Joe regretted his last sentence.
He knew how stubborn and set in her ways Ada could be. Joe had
no reason to believe that Alesha had put herself into the situation.
He knew this was all Ada, but in this moment, it was relieving his
stress to blame Alesha. The look on Alesha’s face, though, negated
any relief he had briefly felt.
Alesha couldn’t speak, words wouldn’t come to her. She
stood, staring at Joe, trying in vain to say something that would hurt
him as much as he had hurt her. After what felt like an hour, but was
less than five minutes, she gathered herself and turned to walk back
into Westward Heights.
“Lesh, I’m sorry...I’m sorry. Let me give you a ride home.”
“No. I’m calling Brett. You go home and tie one on! Your nicer
when you're an angry drunk.” She did not hold back. Finally, she had
words to put with her feelings. Joe had crossed a line and she
couldn’t be nice to him right now, maybe not for a long time.
 Chapter 5
When Joe got back to the ranch, he worked through his anger
by welding everything that had been on his to-do list for the past six
months. Not a single weld would have passed the appearance check
in his high school shop class, but they would all hold. By the time he
finished, it was dark and chilly out. He should have gone to the
house, but he got in his truck and drove to the Maverik. He wasn’t a
stranger to the night cashier, and when he approached the check
stand with a twelve pack, she gave him a sympathetic look.
“Tough night?”
“Tough day,” Joe responded.
“Thought you were goin’ to the meetings now?”
“Not tonight.” He paid for his beer and left the convenience
store. He drove back to the ranch without turning the radio on.
When he walked in the house, the answering machine was
blinking. He hit the button as he walked past it on his way to the
recliner. The first message was some hybrid apology/ass-chewing
from Ada. The second message seemed to be a wrong number.
When the third message started, all Joe could hear, was someone
breathing on the other end. Finally, a voice broke the silence. “Mr.,
ah, Deputy Higgins, I need help.” Long pause with only the sound of
breathing. “I know you are trying to find God’s Gatherers. Everything
you think you know about them is right. I can help you if you can
help me.” The line went dead. Joe was sitting on the edge of his
recliner, holding his opened, but unconsumed beer halfway to his
mouth. The woman left no name, no number, and no clues about
how she had found him, or who she was. The woman’s voice
sounded dimly familiar, but Joe didn’t have the first idea who this
woman might be.
Joe remained frozen for an hour holding his beer, without
taking a drink of it, while worrying about who the mystery woman
could be. When he regained control of himself, Joe dumped the beer
down the bathroom sink and went to bed.
 Soon, he was driving toward Lander in his patrol vehicle,
Brody was asleep in the passenger seat. As Joe neared the
Husky, he could see two teenagers standing next to a pickup
truck. It looked like a fight. Joe pulled into the parking lot and
got out of his vehicle. He only recognized one boy. Billy
Blackman was a local kid, but the other boy who looked more
like he was in his early twenties, than his teens, wasn’t
someone Joe recognized. As soon as Billy saw him, the boys
backed away from each other.

“Everything ok here?” Joe asked as he walked toward them.

“Just letting this guy know how things work around here.”

“And how’s that Billy?”

“Just letting him know we protect our friends. Not a good

idea for a damn hippie to be messing with a local. She’s got
friends here, he doesn’t.”

The hippie was slowly backing toward an old beat up Geo

with no front license plate. As long as there wasn’t a fight, Joe
didn’t care if the kid left, so he paid him no attention.

“Billy, is there something going on I should know about?”

“No, sir.” Billy’s face clearly projected that he realized he

needed to respect the authority of law enforcement. “Just
worried about a friend, don’t think she oughta get wrapped up
with this shithead.”

“Go home Billy. Take it up with your friend. Don’t start

fights.”

As Joe climbed back into his SUV, the other boy jumped onto
the hood, brandishing a gun in Joe’s face.
 Joe bolted upright in bed. This nightmare made little sense to
him. None of the events of the dream had ever happened to him in
real life. Normally Joe’s dreams were mashups of things he had
really done, twisted into horrific events. Joe had broken up his share
of fights as a deputy, but never between Billy Blackman and an
unknown suspect. Joe had a fleeting thought the other boy in the
dream was someone he had seen before, but the thought didn't
linger long enough for him to analyze it.
When Joe’s breathing slowed, he looked at the bedside clock
radio. It was 0400 and Joe decided it wasn’t worth trying to catch
thirty more minutes of sleep.
Joe dressed quickly, and although he knew that he should eat
breakfast, he didn't. With the news about Ada, and having to go for
another DNA swab today he couldn't control the butterflies in his
stomach. Joe and Brett had hoped to have the DNA match back by
now, and knowing that it hadn't even been started, dealt Joe a
heavy blow. He had almost forgotten about the message from the
mysterious woman the night before until he walked past the
answering machine. It spurred his memory, adding one more thing
for him to stew about.
He didn’t need to leave the house for another hour, so he sat
down in his recliner and hit the message button again. Now,
knowing what to expect from the message, he tried to listen to it like
an investigator and not a confused jack rabbit. It didn’t help him
gain much though. He noticed that the woman was likely using a
payphone or community phone. The background noise made Joe
suspect she was in a diner or cafe. Other than that clue, he gleaned
nothing new from the message. Her voice was raspy, but young, and
her words rushed. She sounded distressed, and like she was trying
to keep her voice quiet. A tickle in the far reaches of Joe’s brain told
him he may know this voice, but no memories came to him. He had
been talking to people about God’s Gatherers recently but he did not
understand how that information would have gotten to anyone
inside the organization. So far in his fact finding journey, he had only
talked to people he knew. The woman not leaving any identifying
information, or a way for him to contact her, was worrisome.
 After wasting more time that he intended on the message,
Joe left the house and headed toward Casper. Ada choosing not to
go with him weighed more heavily on his mood than he had
expected it to. The day before, he had been floating on a cloud
knowing that he could return to his job as a deputy. As he drove that
morning, he didn’t think his day could be any more miserable. Ada
was dying. He felt betrayed by Alesha, and he had said things to her
he couldn’t take back. He missed Bennie fiercely, and he didn’t want
to face the reason he was driving to Casper.
 Chapter 6
When Joe got to Casper, there was a wreck at the intersection
of Hwy 26 and 257. He cursed his luck. He still had forty-five
minutes before he needed to be at the DCI office, but he liked to be
early. Joe was only four vehicles back from the wreck and he could
see that the lone officer on the scene was struggling. Joe shut the
truck’s engine off and got out to see if he could provide any
assistance.
When Joe neared the accident, the officer saw Joe out of the
corner of his eye and turned to face him. “Sir, get back in your car!”
“Hey, hey, calm down. I’m a deputy with Fremont County. Do
you need any help?”
The officer’s stance and tone relaxed. He pointed toward an
older model Ford truck. “You could try to calm that driver down. I
think she’s ok, but she’s in shock for sure. This guy isn’t doing too
well. I’ve got medics coming but they’re still a few minutes out.”
“You got it,” Joe said and turned toward the truck. As he
approached, he could see a young girl, eighteen at most, curled up
on the bench seat sobbing. As he approached her, Joe could see that
she was shaking. Shock was setting in. He scolded himself for not
grabbing his go bag when he left the truck. He removed his jacket
although it was light and not worth much for warming someone up.
“Ma’am, what’s your name?”
The girl sat up with a bewildered look on her face. “What?”
“I’m Joe, I’m a deputy. What’s your name?”
“Sarah, I’m a waitress. Did I kill that guy?”
“He’s alive. How old are you?”
“I’m seventeen. But I’m homeschooled.”
“I’m going to put my jacket around you. We need to keep you
warm.” Joe wasn’t sure what her schooling had to do with the
current situation, but he nodded in acknowledgement. He put his
jacket around the girl who then tried to get out of the truck. "Where
are you going Sarah?”
 “I don’t know. I don’t feel good.”
“Ok, why don’t we sit down over at the side of the road.” Joe
guided her to the edge of the road and assisted her to the ground.
He squatted down next to her. “Where were you going?”
“I was on my way to the nursing home to see my grandma.
You know, the Jesus nursing home.”
Joe did not know. He wasn’t familiar with the nursing homes
in Casper and had never heard of one he would associate with
Jesus. Joe heard the ambulance approaching but based on what the
officer had said, he suspected it was headed for the other vehicle.
He and Sarah would have to wait for a second ambulance. Luckily,
Joe underestimated the EMS response in a larger town like Casper
and a second ambulance pulled up within a few minutes of the first.
Joe gave report to the medics and left Sarah in their capable
hands. He looked around for the officer he had originally interacted
with and after a few minutes, located him near the other ambulance.
Joe surveyed the scene as he walked toward the officer. The
response going on around him had been a lot bigger than he had
realized. At least three more officers were now on the scene as well
as a fire truck. Joe motioned to the officer he had originally talked
to, to get his attention. “I’m gonna go back to my truck. Let me
know when you're ready for me to fill out a report.”
A second officer stepped toward Joe. “You're a deputy?”
“Out of Fremont County.”
“Thanks for your help. That girl ok?”
“Shook up good, but that’s it.”
“Well she’s doing better than the other guy then.”
“Beat up pretty bad?”
“Yeah, looks like several broken bones. And higher than a
kite.”
“One of those, huh?” Joe hated accidents that involved DUI.
It complicated everything.
“Yeah, kid I’ve dealt with before. He’s pretty messed up.” The
officer looked over his shoulder at the ambulance and then back at
Joe. “I bet you know him. I think he’s from your neck of the woods.
Tim Duncan?”
 Joe’s stomach flipped. He recognized the name immediately.
“Yeah, he’s been messed up for a long time. Ever since his girlfriend
ran off.”
“Did she take off with another guy?”
“Nah, well not that we know of. She was a troubled kid, just
took off one day four years ago.”
“I hope this accident will give Tim the wake up call he needs.
I’ll grab you a witness report.” The officer walked away and returned
within a few minutes with a clipboard.
Joe walked back to his truck and filled out the report. He
wasn’t on duty, so he did his best to fill it out like a civilian, although
he wasn’t altogether sure how a true civilian filled out a report. As
he was finishing up, the ambulance carrying Tim pulled away. The
medics who had been with Sarah had already left, and she was in
one of the patrol vehicles, wrapped in a blanket. Joe approached the
officer who had given him the clipboard and returned it to him. He
motioned toward Sarah. “She ok?”
“Yeah. Got her mom coming to pick her up. Like you said, just
shook up. Thanks for your help. Farnes is still a rookie, glad you
were here to help him.”
“No problem.” Joe walked back to his truck and turned the
motor on. He cranked the heater, even though it was blowing frosty
air. He glanced at the clock and realized he would not make it to DCI
as early as he had hoped. He wanted to be mad about it, but
working the accident had helped take his mind off of all his
problems, so he shrugged it off.
When he arrived at DCI, all his frustrations returned. The lab
technician made him wait for twenty-five minutes before taking him
back to the little exam room. Then she left him in the exam room
waiting for another fifteen. While she prepared his test, she kept
muttering about her opinion that this case should have gone to the
main lab in Cheyenne. When she finally swabbed him, he was
thinking the drive to Cheyenne might have been easier.
The drive back to Lander was uneventful and Joe spent the
entire time feeling sorry for himself.
 Chapter 7
Joe killed the weekend working on the ranch and wallowing in
his sorrows. He opened a beer every night when he sat down for
dinner, but every night, he poured a full can down the drain. Finally,
on Sunday afternoon, he decided he needed to quit avoiding Ada, so
he drove into town after lunch. Ada had called him every day since
he had last seen her, and he hadn’t returned any of her calls. He
knew chances were good he would get yelled at when he got to
Westward Heights.
Ada wasn’t sitting up front, and when Joe went to her room,
there was no sign of her there either. A small surge of panic shot
through him but he walked calmly back to the nurses’ desk. One of
the younger nurses, a girl he didn’t recognize, was charting when he
approached.
“Can I help you?” Her tone was more cheery than most of the
nurses he was used to talking to. She reminded him of the first time
he had talked to Bennie, at this same desk.
“I’m looking for Ada Higgins. She’s not in her room.”
“Oh, she’s probably on the patio. They have some guy out
there playing guitar for the residents. I think I saw her headed that
way.”
“Thank you.” Joe walked to the door leading to the patio. He
could see Ada sitting in the back of the crowd. Joe wasn’t sure what
to do. On one hand, she wasn’t likely to make a scene in front of a
large group, so approaching her now may be safer. On the other
hand, she looked like she was enjoying herself and interrupting that
might make things a lot worse for him.
Ada noticed Joe standing just inside the door. She wasn’t in
any mood to deal with him but her motherly instincts told her he
was hurting as much as she was. She had kept her secret to protect
him. He was finally sober, going to AA meetings and seeing her
cousin’s boy for healing out in Ethete. She didn’t want to mess that
up by causing him to worry about her. Worry was unnecessary, it
wouldn’t solve anything. She had made her peace with what the
cancer meant. She was only a few months from eighty, and she
missed Lew, but it hurt her to think about leaving Joe. It hurt her to
think of him losing another mother. Of him being all alone. When he
had sobered up and decided to go back to police work, she had
prayed it would also mean he would find another woman to share
his life with. However, now she didn't think that would happen in
time for her to see it. She took a deep breath, unlocked the brakes
on her wheelchair, and slowly wheeled herself toward the door.
Joe saw Ada rolling herself toward him. He knew then, that
she had seen him. When she reached the door, he didn't say
anything to her. He got behind her chair and slowly pushed her back
to her room. Her not protesting told Joe that this talk may go better
than he had expected. When they reached her room, Joe parked
her in her usual spot and sat down on the bed next to her. They sat
quietly until Ada reached out her hand to hold Joe’s.
“I didn't want you hurting.”
"Didn't you think I would hurt when you died and I knew I
hadn't been there for you?" Joe struggled to keep his voice even and
not allow it to crack.
"I didn't think about that. You've been going to sweats.
You've been going to meetings. I didn't want to mess that up."
"You are more important than sweats and meetings Ada." Joe
could feel the heat in his eyes and the tears threatening to spill out.
The pain he felt from losing his mother differed tremendously from
the pain he had felt when he lost Bennie and Brody. The pain in his
heart now was again the pain of losing a mother, even though she
wasn't gone yet and he rarely called her by that title.
Ada met his eyes for the first time since he had arrived. He
looked rough. Rougher than he had looked since he returned from
Evanston two months ago. "Have you been drinking? Why haven't
you answered my calls?"
Although he was full of grief, Ada’s assumption still frustrated
Joe. His gut reaction was to snap at her, but he restrained himself
and waited several moments before responding, although the time
didn’t soften his blow. "No, I have not been drinking. But you pissed
me off, I needed a break."
Ada dropped her head. She had raised Joe to be more
respectful of his elders, but she had it coming. She knew she had
hurt him, and she’d done it on purpose. The purpose may not have
been to hurt him but the intent was to keep a secret, and that was
never healthy.
Joe and Ada sat in silence for over an hour. Joe cradled her
hand and watched tears roll down her cheeks. He didn't know how
to comfort her, he so rarely had needed to during his life. He had
hoped to ask her more questions about her cancer to find out why
she wasn't willing to treat it. However, just being with her was what
his heart needed. He needed to know that they were ok, and he
knew that they were both finding peace in the silence.
When one of the nurse aides came to the room to let Ada
know it was dinner time, Joe stood up from the bed and put his
hand on Ada’s shoulder. "Would you like me to give you a ride to the
dining room?" Joe expected her to say no. She rarely let him push
her anywhere, and she had allowed it once already.
"That would be nice."
As Joe pushed her down the hall, he told her he was
returning to work the next day. "I work my first shift at the sheriff's
department tomorrow. Even though I have worked there before I
have to do some training shifts. So I'm on days for right now."
"I'm glad you're going back."
"I'll try to come see you at the end of my shift. It's been a
long time since I’ve balanced the ranch and the department, I might
be pretty busy for a while."
Joe pushed Ada’s wheelchair up to the dining room table
where she usually sat with two other women. Both of the women
were already at the table. She motioned for Joe to lean down and
she embraced him in a warm but shaky hug.
As Joe pulled his truck out of the parking lot, he knew what
he needed to do, and he headed toward Cliff Street.
When he pulled up in front of the house, he didn’t see
Alesha’s Toyota. Brett’s truck sat in the driveway but the garage door
was closed. Joe hoped that the Toyota was hiding inside.
He walked up to the front door and knocked once. He could
hear footsteps inside, but they were too heavy to belong to Alesha.
Brett opened the door and gave Joe a look that he couldn’t read.
“Is it your goal in life to hurt my wife?” Brett’s tone wasn’t as
much accusatory as wounded.
“No, that’s why I’m here. I need to apologize.” Joe met Brett’s
eyes because he had learned in the military to never look away
during a confrontation. And, he had learned from years of working
with Brett that standing his ground was his best defense.
“She’s not home yet. She spent the weekend with Tuck in
Cheyenne, some parents' weekend thing that I don’t understand.”
Brett stepped back from the door and motioned to the couch. He
took a seat in his chair and figured if Joe wanted to talk he would
come in. If not, he could leave.
Joe followed Brett’s lead and found himself a spot on the couch.
He wasn’t sure what to prepare himself for, but kept his guard up in
case Brett defended Alesha.
“Why did you attack Lesh?”
“I didn’t exactly attack her. I just said some terrible, hateful
things.”
“Well, she sure as hell felt attacked. I thought someone had
died when she called me, she was hysterical.”
“I told you I came to apologize. But that secret keeping her
and Ada did was bull.” Joe was there to make peace. He didn’t want
to pick a fight with Brett, especially not the evening before he
returned to the department. However, he wasn’t about to pretend
that his actions hadn’t had a cause.
“You know your aunt. She told Alesha what her plan was and
expected her to follow directions. You know Lesh would never hurt
you on purpose. You’re the brother she always wanted and taking
care of you is how she remembers Bennie. She got stuck in a hard
spot.” Brett didn’t exactly blame Joe for anything that he’d said that
day at Westward Heights. He knew Alesha cared for Ada, as did he,
but he had discouraged her from becoming involved in Ada’s medical
care from the start. He knew that Ada wouldn’t be able to keep Joe
in the dark forever. It actually surprised him that the interaction
hadn’t been significantly worse. Brett knew Joe was right and
agreed with him. Alesha might love them like family, but he was
Ada’s only blood.
Joe saw Brett relax. Joe knew that Brett understood, or at
least acknowledged, what he was going through. “So, when’s she
supposed to be home?”
“I think she should be here about 2000. But I don’t think
she’s ready for you to apologize. Tucker called me yesterday wanting
to know what you did. Guess she was complaining about you to him.
You know that’s bad.”
“Yeah, that’s not good. You let me know when I’m safe to
apologize?”
“Will do.”
Joe stood from the couch and made his way toward the door.
He wasn’t being purposefully rude, but he had no reason to stay and
make uncomfortable small talk with Brett if he wasn’t waiting for
Alesha. “See ya tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah. You better be on time,” Brett snickered.
Joe was less than a mile from the turnoff for Willow Creek Road,
when he realized he should have told Brett about the call from the
mystery woman.
 Chapter 8
The events of the week had gotten the better of Joe, and the
emotion toll was catching up with him. He usually attended Sunday
night AA at the Methodist church, but he wasn't up for all the
sharing and introspection. He would try to catch the Tuesday night
meeting, if his schedule allowed it. He made himself a Hungry Man
dinner and stared at the TV, without turning it on, while he ate.
Shortly after finishing his meal, the phone rang. He hoped it might
be Alesha.
"Hello?"
"Uh, Mr. Higgins?"
Joe immediately recognized the voice as the woman from his
answering machine. "Yes."
"Are you really trying to find God's Gatherers?" Her voice was
shaky.
"Yes. Are you part of that group?"
The line was silent. There were no clanking dishes or diner
noises on the other end tonight. After an entire minute had passed,
and Joe decided the woman was no longer on the line, her voice
broke the silence. "Um. Yes."
"Are you willingly a part?"
"Not anymore. You know we can't leave, right?"
"I suspected that." The conversation was slow, and Joe
wasn't sure how to encourage the woman to share more with him. It
would help if he could establish a connection with her but he didn't
know anything about her. Without some kind of information, he
didn't have a good place to build a connection. He didn't even know
how she had found him. "What's your name?"
Again, prolonged silence. Finally, Joe spoke again. "You don't
have to tell me."
"My name in the community is Ruth."
“What do you mean in the community?”
 “Brother Josiah gives most of us a name when they come to
the Gatherers.”
Joe hadn’t considered the possibility of adult members
receiving alternative names. He knew that Nathan’s name in the cult
had been Adam after they kidnapped him, but Joe hadn’t run across
anything about adult name changes. Hyrum hadn’t said anything
about his parents, or himself being given an alternative name. “Can
you tell me the name you had before?”
“No.” The response was curt, and the line again fell so silent
that Joe wasn’t sure the caller was still there.
“How long have you lived with God’s Gatherers?”
“Why are you asking me so many questions?”
Joe realized quickly that his efforts to build a connection were
actually driving a wedge. He needed this woman to give him
something, anything to go on. “You left me a message and said you
could help me if I helped you, but I can’t help someone I don’t know
anything about.” Joe tried to sound as genuine as possible.
The line was quiet again. After another minute passed Joe
spoke. “Are you still there?”
No response.
“Hello?”
Still no response. The woman had ended the call.
Joe didn’t know what to make of the woman, or the call. Her
voice was shaky, filled with fear. But, she had given him nothing to
verify her actual involvement with God’s Gatherers. She had barely
given him anything at all. Joe couldn't think of any reason for
someone to seek him out and lie to him about God’s Gatherers, but
the situation was so strange, Joe didn't know what to think.
Joe knew he should try to get a decent night sleep for his
shift the next day, but he couldn’t calm his mind. Just before 2200
Joe decided he needed an outside opinion to help him process the
calls he had gotten from the woman. He considered calling ahead,
but didn’t. When he pulled up in front of the house, Alesha’s Toyota
rested next to Brett’s truck and luckily, several lights were on. Joe
knocked on the front door, without considering what Alesha’s
reaction might be to him showing up.
 Brett answered the door and immediately stepped out onto
the stoop and closed the door behind him. “Thought we discussed
you keeping some distance until Lesh had time to cool off?”
“This isn’t about her. I’ve got to tell you about weird calls I’ve
been getting.”
Joe summed up the message left on his machine, and then
the call from earlier in the night the best he could.
Brett sighed and dropped his shoulders. “You better come in, too
cold to figure this out out here.” Joe followed Brett into the house
and took the same place on the couch that he had taken just a few
hours earlier. “So you said the voice sounds vaguely familiar, any
idea where from?”
“No. For all I know she’s just got one of those familiar voices,
but I can’t place her.”
“I want to know how she found you,” Brett couldn’t think of
any way that news of Joe’s curiosity about the group could have
made it to them. “You don’t think…”
“Brett, who was at the door?” Alesha rounded the corner of
the living room. She immediately stopped, her face telling Joe
everything he needed to know.
“Oh, you.” Alesha stared at Brett for several seconds before
leaving the room without saying anything. Her look hurt Joe. Not
because of what the look meant, but because she looked so much
like Bennie when she was upset. He had come a long way in the last
two months, much of which he felt he had lost in the past week, and
being around Alesha was a double-edged sword. Brett and Alesha
were the only family he had other than Ada. Alesha was one of the
few people who hadn't written him off or treated him like a child.
But, so many things about Alesha reminded him painfully of Bennie.
Brett just stared at Joe for a few moments. Brett didn't know
what to make of the conversation they were having. An inside
source would certainly help Joe gather more information about the
cult. It seemed unlikely though, that the caller, even if genuine, had
pure motives. It didn't help Brett think any clearer knowing he would
have to defend allowing Joe in the house once he and Alesha were
alone. "Anyway, but do ya think the woman somehow knows
Hyram?"
"I guess she could, but he says he doesn't have any contacts
in the group anymore. According to Hyram and Hutchinson he hasn't
spoken to his parents, or any other group members, since he ran
away." Joe's gut told him that Hyram had nothing to do with his
mysterious phone calls. The problem was, Joe's gut didn't tell him
where the calls were coming from.
“Do you think she’ll call you back?”
“I don't know. I was surprised she called me the second time.
She sure didn't give me much to go on.”
"That's true. I think our only option is to table it until she calls
you back. If she calls you back." The calls Joe had gotten were odd.
Something about the caller didn't sit right with Brett. The best thing
he could think of to do, was wait and see if she became a better
informant, or if she disappeared entirely.
Joe and Brett talked for a few more minutes but neither of them
came up with anything useful. Joe stood from the couch and
stretched his legs.
"I better get home. I don't want to show up for my first day
on the new job exhausted, the boss might not like that."
"I don't think the boss will mind you being tired." Brett
chuckled. It was a strange feeling knowing that Joe was returning as
a new officer. It helped Brett process that by joking about it. "The
boss'll probably be exhausted tomorrow, too. It's going to take him
all night to smooth things over with his wife."
The drive back to the ranch was quick but Joe noticed that
the sky was looking slightly reflective. The first snowstorm of the
year was not the way he wanted to start his career back at the
sheriff's department.
When Joe got in the house he checked the machine, hoping
there would be something from the mystery woman. There were no
messages. Joe made his way to bed and stared at the ceiling for
almost an hour before he drifted off to sleep.
When he woke the next morning, there was a skiff of snow
out in the yard. Joe added a layer of long underwear to his uniform,
tied a silk around his neck and grabbed a balaclava just in case. He
guessed that most of his day would be in the office but he wanted to
be prepared in case he had an opportunity to go out on patrol. He
had asked Carl to show up earlier than usual so Joe could line him
out with several jobs before he left for the day. Joe waited as long as
he could before leaving, but Carl still hadn’t shown up. Another
reminder that he needed to find a new hand.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Phylloxera.—The Phylloxera, that has caused such an enormous
amount of damage in the Old World during the last thirty years, is a
small Aphid that was introduced from North America into Europe. In
North America it is not so injurious as it is in Europe, owing, no
doubt, to slight distinctions in the conditions of life in the two
hemispheres, as one of which may be mentioned that in Europe a
larger proportion of the individuals produced appear to confine
themselves to feeding on the roots, P. vastatrix being one of the
species that lives both in galls on leaves, and underground on the
roots. The species is one that exhibits in their most complex form the
peculiar phenomena of Aphid life we have already mentioned. It has
probably only one congener, Phylloxera quercus, and of this
Lichtenstein says that in its cycle, from the starting-point of the
winter-egg to the assumption of the sexual condition, it exhibits a
series of no less than twenty-one forms.[526] The life of Phylloxera
vastatrix apparently differs essentially from what we have described
in Chermes, inasmuch as the migrations are only between leaf and
root of the same plant—the vine—and not from one species of plant
to another. Some authorities treat Phylloxera and Chermes as a
separate family under the name of Phylloxeridae.

Fig. 286—Gall, or false cone of Chermes abietis. Cambridge. The small

figure, to the left, is a section made at the level indicated by the
pointing line a, and shows the chambers containing young.

Galls.—Like Phylloxera, many species of Aphidae live partially,

others wholly, in galls that are produced by plants as the result of
one or more Aphids interfering with a delicate part of the plant when
it is in a young and growing state. The usual position of Aphid galls is
on a leaf or leaf-stalk. But in the case of the genus Chermes, a bud
or some growing part of the spruce-fir is affected in such a way that it
gives rise to an object having externally the appearance of a little fir-
cone, while inside it consists of chambers in which the Aphids reside.
The forms of Aphid-galls are very diverse, but this is probably due to
the plant rather than to the Insect, for the same species of Aphis may
give rise to different forms of galls. Réaumur thought that each
Aphid-gall was due to a single individual that irritated the tissue of
the plant, so that the latter grew up at the point of irritation and
enclosed the Insect.

A few points as to the anatomy of Aphids should be noticed. It is

doubtful whether the antennae have ever really more than six joints,
the apparent seventh joint being actually a sort of appendage of the
sixth. The rostrum is externally three-jointed, and is remarkable for
the great diversity in its length, sometimes it is quite short, at others
several times longer than the body (Fig. 285); the setae are often
very much longer than the sheath; in cases where this great length
of rostrum exists, the individual may often be found with the tip firmly
fixed in the bark, and, as it were, tethered by means of the rostrum,
the length of which allows, nevertheless, considerable locomotion.
Suction is performed by contractions of the pharynx. There has been
much difference of opinion as to whether there is a salivary syringe,
and Witlaczil failed to find it. Krassilstschik is, however, positive that
it exists,[527] and that it is analogous to that described by Mayer in
Pyrrhocoris, but there are great differences of structure between the
two. It is very difficult to determine the number of segments at the
extremity of the body; this is terminated dorsally by a median organ
placed above the anus, and known as the cauda. Balbiani apparently
considers that there are ten abdominal segments and the cauda.
The alimentary canal has a small stomach, and an elongate
intestine, the terminal division of which is capacious and remarkably
long. There are no Malpighian tubes; according to Kowalevsky, their
function is discharged by the posterior part of the alimentary canal.
There exists, however, a peculiar structure, the pseudovitellus, a sort
of cellular, double string; and Witlaczil, in his valuable paper[528] on
the anatomy of Aphidae, suggests that this organ may in some way
replace the missing Malpighian tubes. Another highly peculiar
structure is the siphons, frequently called nectaries, honey-tubes, or
siphuncles. They are situated on the dorsal aspect of the fifth
abdominal segment, but exist only in certain of the sub-families; they
are of very different lengths according to the species, and are
capable of movement; they open directly into the body cavity, though
exceptional openings into the body cavity are extremely rare in
Insects. They excrete a waxy matter, which first appears as oil-like
globules. It was formerly supposed that they were the means of
secreting the sugary matter, called honey-dew, so much prized by
ants and some other Insects; but this is now ascertained to be
erroneous. This matter comes from the alimentary canal, and is
secreted in large quantities by some species, Büsgen having
observed that forty-eight drops, each about 1 mm. in diameter, were
emitted by a single individual in twenty-four hours.[529] Certain gall-
dwelling Aphidae—Pemphigus, Chermes (Fig. 285), Schizoneura—
possess numerous wax glands; these seem to replace the siphons,
and excrete the peculiar, whitish flocculent matter that is so
conspicuous in some of these Aphids.

Earlier anatomists failed to find any dorsal vessel, and it is

consequently reported in books to be absent. It has been, however,
recently detected by Witlaczil, and Mordwilko states that it does not
differ from that of other Insects.

We have already alluded to the fact that the mode of reproduction of

Aphids leads to an unrivalled increase. This, however, is not due to
the prolificness of the individual, which, in point of fact, appears to be
considerably below the average in Insects, but rather to the rapidity
with which the young begin to reproduce. This has been discussed
by Huxley, Buckton, and others. The first-named naturalist calculated
that the produce of a single Aphis would, in the course of ten
generations, supposing all the individuals to survive, "contain more
ponderable substance than five hundred millions of stout men; that
is, more than the whole population of China."[530] It has since been
contended that Professor Huxley's calculation was much below the
mark. Although it is somewhat difficult to make a calculation dealing
adequately with the actual facts, yet it is clear that the increase of
Aphids is such that, drawing as they do their nutriment directly from
the plant in its growing state, in the course of two or three years
there would be no nutriment available for other animals, except such
as might be derived from plants not attacked by Aphids. The
numbers of Aphidae would be so great that they could not be
expressed by ordinary numerical methods, and their increase would
be actually limited only by the relations existing between different
kinds of plants, and between plants and Aphids. This result is
avoided by the fact that Aphids are themselves the victims of a
whole army of Insect enemies. They have the numerous members of
a special group (Braconidae, Aphidiides) of minute Hymenoptera to
live inside their bodies, and many Aculeate Hymenoptera depend
entirely on the Aphidae as the source of food for their own progeny.
The Lady-birds—Coccinellidae—live on Aphids and Coccids, and
themselves increase to such an extent as to be in many years a
conspicuous part of the Insect world. Crowds of the larvae of
Hemerobiids and Syrphids are constantly engaged in spearing and
sucking the Aphides. Hence the old naturalist Bonnet said that, just
as we sow grain for our benefit, Nature has sown Aphids for the
benefit of multitudes of different Insects. He might have added that
these different Insects are for the benefit of man, it being clear that
without them the population of the world must rapidly decrease.

Ants treat Aphidae more intelligently than most other Insects do, for
they do not destroy the helpless creatures, but utilise their products
in the way man does those of the cows he keeps. The relations
between ants and Aphids is itself an extensive chapter in Natural
History; many facts have been brought to light showing that the ants
manage the Aphids in a prudent or intelligent manner, distributing
them when too numerous in one place, keeping guard over them,
even building shelters for them, and in some cases keeping them in
direct association, by retaining the Aphids in their own dwellings. The
further investigation of these points goes, the more it tends to raise
the actions of the ants to the level we call in ourselves intelligent. It
would even appear that the ants are acquainted with the migrations
of the Aphids from one species of plant to another, Webster
informing us that as the Aphis-population on an apple tree multiplied
the ants in attendance anticipated their migration to wheat and grass
by carrying them to those plants.[531] We have nearly 200 species of
Aphidae in Britain,[532] and there may perhaps be 800 known
altogether. To what extent they may occur in the tropics is
undetermined. There are said to be no native species in New
Zealand.

Fig. 287—Instars of Aleurodes immaculate. Europe. (After Heeger.) A,

Nymph, from above; B, nymph, under surface; C, imago.

Fam. 8. Aleurodidae.—Minute Insects, with four mealy wings,

seven-jointed antennae, two-jointed feet, terminated by two claws
and a third process. These minute Insects are at present a source of
considerable perplexity, owing to the curious nature of their
metamorphosis, and the contradictory accounts given of them. In the
earlier stages they are scale-like and quiescent, being fixed to the
under side of a leaf. The French authors Signoret and Girard state
that the young are hatched having visible appendages and
segmentation, but that after they are attached to the leaf the organs
gradually suffer atrophy. Maskell states the opposite, saying that the
organs in the earliest stages are not usually recognisable, but
become faintly visible with the growth of the Insect. Heeger states
that the larva undergoes three ecdyses, and he gives the figures we
reproduce; if he be correct it would appear that the nymph
undergoes a great development. Réaumur, on account apparently of
their great metamorphosis, treated the species known to him as
being Lepidopterous, though he correctly pointed out their
distinctions. At present we can only conclude that the Aleurodidae
undergo a metamorphosis of a kind peculiar to themselves, and
requiring renewed investigation. The family has been monographed
by Signoret, and more recently by Maskell, who has increased the
number of species to about sixty.[533] We have three or four in
Britain, one of which, A. brassicae, is extremely abundant on various
kinds of cabbage in certain years.

Fig. 288—Scale-Insect. A, Aspidiotus camelliae, on the stem of a plant;

B, a female scale magnified. (After Green.)

Fam. 9. Coccidae (Scale-Insects, Mealy-bugs).—Insects, usually

minute, with only a single claw to the foot; the male with one pair of
wings, but without mouth-parts; the female wingless and usually so
degraded in form that most of the external organs and appendages
cannot be distinguished. The form in which these Insects are most
generally known is that of a small scale or shell-like body closely
adhering to leaves, fruits, or bark. The scales are of the most varied
form, so that no general description can be given of them. The scale
may be defined as an accumulation of excreted matter, combined
with the cast skin or skins of the Insect, covering the body either
totally or partially, and thus acting as a shield under which the
subsequent development takes place. All Coccidae do not form
scales; but the habit of excreting a large quantity of peculiar matters
to the outside of the body is universal; this excreted substance is
frequently white, and of a powdery nature, and Coccids of this kind
are known as mealy-bugs. In other cases the exudation is like shell
or glass, and the creature may become quite encysted therein. In
this way the forms of Cocidae known as "ground-pearls" are formed.
When first hatched from the egg Coccidae are mite-like creatures,
and it is only subsequently that the females lose the power of
locomotion. The females of numerous forms of Coccidae—more
particularly the mealy-bugs—do not lose the antennae and legs.
There is also a group (Brachyscelides) of Coccids that live in galls.
This highly aberrant group is, however, peculiar to Australia;
elsewhere very few gall-making Coccids have been discovered.

Fig. 289—Dactylopius longispinus. Female on portion of a fig-leaf.

(After Berlese.)

There are upwards of 800 species of Coccidae at present known.

[534] The family was monographed by Signoret about twenty-five
years ago, and since then there has been very much matter
concerning them published in a scattered manner.[535] No general
work has been published on the British species, but Mr. Newstead is
preparing one. The classification of Insects so minute as Coccidae,
and with such extreme difference in the sexes, is, of course, a matter
of great difficulty; the best divisions are those given by Green in his
Coccidae of Ceylon.[536]

The fact that there is only one pair of wings in the perfect male
Coccid would appear to ally these Insects with the Diptera; these
Coccidae have, too, like the Diptera, a small appendage on each
side of the metathorax. Witlaczil shows that these little processes
may really represent a pair of wings, inasmuch as they are
developed from imperfect folds of hypodermis, i.e. imaginal discs.
Beyond these facts and the occurrence in certain females
(Margarodes) of a great histolysis during the post-embryonic
development, there is nothing to indicate any relationship between
Coccidae and Diptera. It has been shown by Riley that these little
processes, in some forms, serve as hooks to attach or control the
true wings, and this function is never assumed by the halteres of
Diptera. Although Coccidae are placed next Aphidae, yet the two
families appear to be really very different. The modes of reproduction
so peculiar in Aphidae reappear to a certain extent in Coccidae, but
are associated with profound distinctions. Though the viviparous
method of reproduction and parthenogenesis occur in Coccidae, yet
they are only exceptional, and they are not put to the same uses by
the species that exhibit the phenomena. Thus we have seen that in
Aphidae generations of imperfect individuals are produced with
rapidity, while the individual is not directly very prolific. In Coccidae
the reverse is the case—the generations are usually similar to one
another; they do not, as a rule, follow with rapidity, and the female is
usually very prolific, thousands of young being sometimes produced
by a single individual. The extraordinary polymorphism of the
species of Aphidae is not exhibited by Coccidae, though, contrary to
what we find in Aphidae, the males and females are usually
excessively different. The two families apparently also differ in that
Coccidae are specially characteristic of warm climates, Aphidae of
the temperate regions.

Parthenogenesis.—Owing to the fact that the males are very

minute creatures, totally different from the females, and living but a
very short time, they were but little known to the earlier observers. It
was therefore only natural to suppose that parthenogenesis was very
common. Of late years the males of a great many species have
become known, so that ordinary sexual reproduction must be
considered as the normal method in Coccidae, although, in the great
majority of cases, the male is still unknown. It has, however, been
shown in numerous cases that parthenogenesis may occur even
when males exist; and there are some abundant species of which it
has not been possible to find a male. In 1887 Moniez[537] announced
that he had discovered the male of Lecanium hesperidum (one of the
notoriously parthenogenetic species) in an ovarian cul-de-sac in the
body of the female, and he therefore considers that sexual
reproduction occurs. He does not say how pairing takes place, and
we are not aware that his observation has been confirmed. If correct
it will be necessary to reconsider the whole question as to
parthenogenesis in Coccidae. Apterous males are known in two or
three species.

The post-embryonic development of Coccidae is of the most unusual

character. It is quite different in the two sexes, and in each of them it
presents features not found elsewhere. It has, however, as yet been
studied in only a few forms, and even in them is incompletely known.

Fig. 290—Instars of Dactylopius citri. (After Berlese.) A, Egg; B, young

larva; C, first male nymph; D, second male nymph; E, adult male;
F, adult female. All equally magnified. x 20.

When hatched from the egg the young Coccids are all similar, male
and female being indistinguishable. A difference soon appears, with
the result that the male, after passing through more than one pupal
condition, appears as a winged Insect. The female never becomes
winged, but, if we may judge from the incomplete accounts we at
present possess, her development varies much according to
species. In some she retains the legs, antennae, and mouth-organs;
in others she loses these parts, though retaining the original form in
a general manner; while in a third (Margarodes) she becomes
encysted, and apparently suffers an almost complete histolysis,
reappearing after a very long period (it is said it may be as much as
seven years) in a considerably altered form. The post-embryonic
development of Aspidiotus nerii has been studied by Schmidt[538]
and Witlaczil,[539] whose accounts agree except as to some points,
such as the number of ecdyses. The young, or larva, is hatched with
fairly well-developed legs, antennae, and rostrum; there is no
external difference between the sexes. The larva selects some spot
on the plant and drives its rostrum therein, thus becoming fixed;
moults occur, and the body excretes waxy matter from its sides in
processes that fell together and form the shield; the female becomes
much larger than the male. The legs and antennae of both sexes
disappear, so that the power of movement is completely lost. The
mouth-parts also atrophy. The female after this undergoes no further
change, except that of growth in connection with ovarian
development.

Fig. 291—Development of male of Aspidiotus nerii. A, Newly hatched

larva; B, prae-pupal instar; C, pupa before ecdysis; D, pupa
shortly before the emergence of the imago: a, antenna; e, eye; f,
wing-rudiment; l, leg; o, basal part of mouth-organs. (After
Schmidt.) Magnification not definitely stated.

The male, however, continues development; notwithstanding the

impossibility of taking food, owing to the absence of a mouth, it
increases much in size, and the organs of the future perfect Insect
commence to develop from imaginal discs in a manner similar to that
which occurs in the Dipterous genus Corethra; no mouth-parts are
however developed, these being merely represented by spots of
pigment, or rudimentary additional eyes. The wings are developed
outside the body. Difference of opinion prevails as to the nature of
the instars between the young larva and the imago. It is clear,
however, that Fig. 291, D, corresponds fairly with the pupa of Insects
with complete metamorphosis, and the instars shown in Fig. 291, B,
C, may therefore be looked on as equivalents of the resting-larva
stage of ordinary Insects with complete metamorphosis. Witlaczil
considers this development to be a condition of incomplete,
approaching very nearly to complete, metamorphosis. The condition
is perhaps more precisely estimated if we recollect that winged
Insects are divided into two series, in one of which the wings are
developed outside the body; in the other, inside the body. The
Insects with very complete metamorphosis all belong to the second
of these two series, while in the male Coccid we have the highest
form of metamorphosis attained by any of the first series. As regards
the development of the female encysted nymph or pupa, previously
alluded to as being found in the "ground-pearls" of the genus
Margarodes, we can at present offer the reader no satisfactory
account.[540]

Products of Coccidae.—Honey-dew is secreted by Coccidae, but

as a rule not so extensively as by Aphidae and some other
Homoptera; nevertheless, it is often sufficient to make the plants
frequented by Coccids very sticky and unclean. Some species make
a really extensive exudation of such matter. Réaumur records that a
Coccid, which is doubtless Lecanium persicae, excretes a supply of
honey-dew that drips to the ground; he says it tastes sweet and nice.
The manna mentioned in the book of Exodus is pretty certainly the
honey-dew secreted by Coccus (now Gossyparia) mannifera, which
lives on Tamarix in many places in the Mediterranean basin. This
substance is still called by the Arabs "Man," and is used as food; in
its natural state it is a substance very like honey; it is doubtless
excreted by the Coccus, and is not produced directly by the Tamarix
as some have supposed. Waxy matters are produced by several
Coccidae. Ceroplastes ceriferus, a Lecaniid, produces white wax in
India. Ceroplastes is a widely distributed genus, and various species
of it have been used for the purpose of producing wax in other parts
of the world. The white wax of China is understood to be produced
by another Lecaniid, Ericerus pela; but little is known as to this
Insect; it is said that the wax is produced by the winged males. The
substance was formerly greatly prized in China, but is falling into
disuse on account of the introduction of Kerosene. Lac is produced
by Carteria lacca, a Lecaniid living in India on Anona squamosa, as
well as on species of Ficus, Rhamnus and other trees; the lac is the
shelly scale produced by the Insect as a covering; it is composed in
larger part of resinous matter, with which there is mixed a
comparatively small quantity of wax and other substances. The body
of this Insect also affords the red substance called lake. Various
species of Kermes formerly afforded a red dye well known to the
Greeks and Romans. These Insects live on Quercus coccifera in the
Mediterranean region. A medicinal syrup is also obtained from them.
Porphyrophora polonica was used in North and Central Europe for
the same purposes as Kermes; it is a Coccid living on the roots of
Polygonum cocciferum. These European Insects were replaced
commercially after the discovery of America by the cochineal Insect,
Coccus cacti, a Mexican Coccid feeding on a Cactus called Nopal
(Opuntia coccinellifera). This Insect was subsequently introduced to
the Eastern hemisphere, and was established with more or less
success in a few spots on the borders of the Mediterranean. In the
Canary Islands it flourished on other species of Cactus, became
acclimatised, and was the object of an extensive commerce. The
colour in the case of all these Coccid dyes was obtained from the
bodies of the Insects, in the tissues of which it is contained. The
dyes have now been largely displaced in commerce by the
derivatives of Aniline. Axin is produced by the Mexican Coccid
Llaveia axinus; this substance appears to be of a very peculiar
nature; it is apparently chiefly fatty, and contains a peculiar acid,
axinic acid. Axin is used as an external medicinal application in
various affections; and it is also employed as a varnish; it dries and
hardens on exposure to the air, and is said to be of considerable
value.[541] In our British genus Orthezia the body of the female is
completely covered with a symmetrical snow-white armour, from
which project the pink legs and antennae. This is one of the forms in
which the female preserves the legs to the end of her life. The
objects called ground-pearls, already alluded to, have long been
known in various parts of the world, and in the island of St. Vincent
they are sufficiently large to be collected and strung for necklaces.
These bodies are the encysted pupae of Coccids of the genus
Margarodes; the cyst is said to be of chitin. M. vitis commits serious
ravages on the vines in Chili by sucking their roots, and it is probable
that all the species are of subterranean habits; this would partially
explain the fact that very little is known about the history of these
pearls, though naturalists have been acquainted with them for many
years.

The gall-making Coccids of the group Brachyscelides have only

recently been at all investigated; the galls they give rise to are
sometimes about a foot in length, and there appear to be numerous
species and several genera in Australia; they are especially
abundant on Eucalyptus and Acacias. The females are highly
remarkable from the variable conditions the legs assume, so that in
some cases they may be described as biped Insects, the hind legs
remaining, though the others have atrophied.[542] Very little indeed is
known as to these Insects. One of the most peculiar points of their
economy appears to be that the galls giving rise to males are
different from those producing females.

Anoplura or Lice.

Fig. 292.—Pediculus capitis, ♀. Human head. (After Piaget.)

Small Insects with thin integument; entirely wingless, the three

thoracic segments indistinctly separated; the head bearing in front a
short tube furnished with hooks; from which tube there can be
protruded another very delicate sucking-tube. Feet terminated by a
single long claw. The Anoplura, Pediculidae, or lice are disgusting
Insects about which but little is known. The most contrary opinions
have been expressed as to their mode of taking their nourishment,
which is, without exception, the blood of Mammals; on the bodies of
which they pass the whole of their life. It is a most difficult matter to
examine their mouth; the best information on this point is given by
Schiödte and Graber, but though these two authorities agree, their
results are very incomplete, and do not warrant us in expressing a
confident opinion as to the nature of the relationship between
Hemiptera and Anoplura—a question that has been for long a moot
one. The short tube furnished with hooks in front (Fig. 293, d) is
considered to be the lower lip, and the tube inside is, it is suggested,
a combination of the homologues of maxillae and mandibles; there is
also what may be a labrum (g); and inside the head a framework, at
any rate analogous to if not homologous with, the parts of this kind
we have described as existing in Hemiptera. All the parts, with the
exception of the basal tube or head of the beak, are of the most
minute and delicate nature, so that it is difficult to see their form or
comprehend their relations. It is evident that they are very different
anatomically from the mouth-parts of Hemiptera; still there is
sufficient general resemblance to warrant the belief that the parts in
the two may ultimately be shown to be also morphologically similar. If
Meinert be correct, this view will, however, not prove to have any
foundation. He considers that morphologically the mouth of the louse
has no similarity to that of the bug; the protrusible parts in the former
he considers to be modifications of epipharynx and hypopharynx;
and the rod-like structures to be hypopharyngeal lamellae; and that
they are thus totally different from the setae of bugs.[543] He
considers Lice to be a distinct Order of Insects for which he
proposes the name Siphunculata.

The alimentary canal and nervous system resemble those of

Mallophaga more than they do those of Hemiptera. The oesophagus
leads into a large stomach bilobed in front; at the posterior extremity
of this there open the four Malpighian tubes, and behind these there
is a well-marked small intestine. The nervous system consists of a
cephalic ganglion and of three other closely approximated ganglia,
the posterior one the larger. It remains doubtful whether or not the
first of these three ganglia is the infra-oesophageal one.[544]
 Fig. 293.—Mouth-organs of louse. (After Graber.) b, c, Chitinous
envelope into which the beak can be withdrawn; d, head of the
beak, with crown of spines; g, labrum; h, delicate tube protruded
(very rarely seen in this state); m′, unpaired muscle.

The species of lice, so far as known, are not numerous, some six
genera and about forty species being all that are recorded; they
occur on various kinds of mammals, including some that live in
water. Seals have a genus, Echinophthirius, peculiar to them.
Monkeys are specially liable to be affected by lice; the genus that
chiefly occurs on them is Pedicinus, a very distinct one, in which
there are only three instead of five joints to the antennae. Perhaps
the most remarkable louse is Haematomyzus elephantis, that of the
elephant; it has a long proboscis in front of the head. As a rule each
species of louse is confined to one species of Mammalia, or to very
closely allied forms. Man is said to be infested by three species,
Pediculus capitis, P. vestimenti and Phthirius inguinalis; Meinert is of
opinion that P. capitis and P. vestimenti are only one species, and
Schiödte appears also to have thought this probable. Andrew Murray
was of opinion that the heads of different varieties of men are
infested by distinct varieties of P. capitis. His conclusion was chiefly
based on examination of specimens preserved by Charles Darwin; it
requires confirmation. Very little is known as to the life-history of the
louse. Leeuwenhoek made himself the corpus vile for an experiment,
from which he concluded that the Pediculus vestimenti is very
prolific. That scientific men did not know whether the louse bites or
sucks was formerly made the ground for a taunt. Schiödte has given
an almost pleasing account of the way in which he settled this,[545]
showing that the sucking action is beyond all doubt. Accounts of
disease called Phthiriasis, attributed to lice, are to be found in many
old books, but the evidence does not warrant us in believing
anything more than that persons suffering from some disease, and in
a neglected and filthy condition, were horribly infested with these
disgusting Insects.

It is usual to say that Pediculidae are Hemiptera degraded by a long

exclusive persistence in parasitic habits. At present, however, this
must be looked on as a pious opinion, rather than as an induction
from our knowledge of their morphology and embryology; for this is
at present too imperfect to warrant any final conclusion.

NOTES AND CORRIGENDA

VOL. VI.

Note to P. 4: Classification of Hymenoptera. Mr. W. Ashmead has

published[546] a sketch of a new classification of Hymenoptera, in
which the points we have suggested are given effect to; the first
division of the Petiolata being carried out with reference to the
position of the ovipositor, while part of the Proctotrypidae is brought
into the Aculeate division. We cannot, however, commend this
arrangement as final, for several points have not received sufficient
consideration.

Note to P. 172, line 22. For the words "We shall subsequently see,"
substitute "We have previously said" (p. 161).

Note to P. 350, line 10 from bottom: instead of "only one genus,"

read "only one Old World genus."

Note to P. 541, line 16: instead of "two" read "ten."

VOL. V.
P. 217, line 4. For sterna read nota.

P. 271. The lettering of Fig. 158 is erroneous; under the lower

pointing line the letter d should be inserted, and the left hand upper
pointing line should bear the letter c instead of d.

P. 277, line 7. Instead of Fig. 162, read Fig. 163; and line 9, instead
of Fig. 163 read Fig. 164.

P. 378. The species figured has since been described by Mr.

Haviland as Termes malayanus.

P. 380. The species figured has since been described by Mr.

Haviland as Termes mirabilis.

P. 383. Hodotermes japonicus. It has been recorded (P. Boston Soc.

xii. 1869, p. 139) that this is not a Termite, but an immature form of
the earwig Brachylabis maritima.

Pp. 480 and 481. It is not made clear that the distinction in the
number of joints of the palpi of Phryganeides and Limnophilides
applies to the males only; in both groups the number of joints in the
females is five. The remark as to Phryganeides occurring in the
Southern Hemisphere is erroneous. It is Limnophilides that reappear
in Chili, not Phryganeides.

P. 490. Fig. 333 A, f and its line point to a division of the mesonotum,
not of the metanotum.

P. 564. Habits of Pelecinus. Mr. S. A Forbes has recorded an

observation suggesting that P. polyturator may be a parasite of
Lamellicorn beetles of the genus Lachnosterna. See Rep. Ins.
Illinois, xix. 1896, p. 79.
 INDEX

Every reference is to the page: words in italics are names of

genera or species; figures in italics indicate that the reference
relates to systematic position; figures in thick type refer to an
illustration; f. = and in following page or pages; n. = note.
Abdomen, of Chrysis, 2;
of Coleoptera, 185;
of Diptera, 446;
of Hemiptera, 538;
of Lepidoptera, 313;
of Thysanoptera, 528
Abdominal legs, 9
Abeille-perce-bois, 33
Abeille tapissière, 51
Abispa, 77
Acacia fistulosa, beetles in, 213
Acalyptrate Muscidae, 494
Acanthia, 560
Acanthomeridae, 483
Acanthosoma griseum, 546
Acari, relations to Insects, 220, 223, 238, 530
Acentropus, 425
Acephalous larvae, 449
Achreioptera, 219
Acraeides, 350
Acridium maroccanum, 254
Acrocera globulus, 490
Acroceridae, 489
Acronycta, 418
Actias luna, 374
Actiidae, 510
Acutilingues, 20
Adapted excrement, 284, 284, 380
Adelops, 221
Adensamer, on Ascodipteron, 520
Adephaga, 190, 200 f., 216, 234
Adimeridae, 240
Adimerus setosus, 241
Adlerz, on Formicoxenus, 160;
on Tomognathus, 161
Adminicula, 327
Aëdes, 455 n.
Aegeria, 387
Aegeriidae, 386
Aegialitidae, 265
Aegocera tripartita, 411
Aenictus, 159, 179, 180
Aenigmatias blattoides, 495
Aeolothrips fasciata, 528
Aëpophilidae, 559
Aëpus, 206
Aërostatic setae, 408
Aërostats, 449
Aganaidae, 408
Agaristidae, 370, 371, 410
Agdistes, 426
Agdistinae, 426
Agenia carbonaria, A. hyalipennis, 105
Ageronia, 354
Aglycyderes setifer, 298
Aglycyderidae, 297
Agromyzidae, 504
Agrotis, 415;
A. spina, 417
Ahuatle, 504
Alaena, 350
Alaopone, 179, 180
Alar organs—see Wings, Elytra, Tegmina
Aletia xylinae, 416
Aleurodes brassicae, 592;
A. immaculata, 591
Aleurodidae, 591
Alucita, 426;
A. polydactyla, 426
Alucitidae, 371, 426.
Alula, 447
Amara, 205
Amber, Insects in, 144, 269, 458
Amblyopone, 180