By Nevada Barr
THE FIRST ANNA PIGEON NOVEL
The interesting hero of Nevada Barr’s award-winning series—park ranger Anna Pigeon—has introduced an unyielding love of nature and experience of reasonable play to the secret style. Track of the Cat is the acclaimed novel that first brought readers to Anna, as a girl trying to find peace within the wilderness—and discovering homicide instead…
Patrolling the distant West Texas backcountry, Anna’s first task as a countrywide park ranger is marred by way of violence she proposal she had left at the back of: the brutal dying of a fellow ranger. while the reason for dying is chalked as much as a mountain lion assault, Anna’s rage is aware no bounds. It’s as much as her to save lots of the safe cats from the politics and prejudices of the locals—and turn out the kill used to be the paintings of a species a long way much less infrequent…
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Extra info for Track of the Cat
If there was an ambulance run or a problem in the campground they'd've radioed-for a ranger's 20,000 a year, she was on call twenty-four hours a day. Who would come to her door? It occurred to her that emergencies were more common than social calls anymore. The thought made her suddenly lonely. "Come in," she hollered. The door rattled and she realized she'd locked it. Embarrassed at her newly suspicious nature, Anna bounded across the room to open the door. Christina Walters was on the top step.
Festive pink blossoms the size of teacups and looking for all the world like they had been fashioned from crepe paper enlivened the uncompromising cacti. Mexicans called them Velas de Coyotes-candles of the coyotes. Prickly pear pads carried one, two, ten yellow blooms, and the grasses were rich with wildflowers. In the midst of all this spiritual plenty Anna was annoyed to find herself once again thinking of death. " Anna spoke to keep Gideon awake. On the familiar trail from the Frijole ranch house to the Pine Springs campground-three miles he'd done a hundred times-Gideon tended to doze off while he walked.
It smelled faintly of decay and there were specks of dark brown on it that Anna chose to think were mud. The police had wrapped a yellow "Police Line Do Not Cross" tape around it. Probably not the police, Anna thought. Probably the puffing deputy. Having lain the pack on the living room rug, she sliced through the tape with the blade of her Swiss army knife. "I need to go through Sheila's pack, if you don't mind, Mrs. Drury. Most of the gear is NPS stuff. " Mrs. Drury rose obediently from the table, her eyes on Andy Griffith's comforting face until her body had turned so far, her head finally had to follow.