The Bovine Connection (6 page)

Her mind swam. She grabbed a hand towel and turned on the sink. Angelica held the towel under the water and dampened it, and then wiped the blood from her face. Questions assaulted her. Why was her nose bleeding? The odd sound had originated from outside of her window. Had anyone else heard it?

If she could track down anyone else who had noticed the noise, she’d know she wasn’t going crazy. She’d check with the front desk in the morning, she decided. “Someone had to have heard it,” she thought aloud.

Walking away from the sink, she grabbed a large white bath towel and wrapped it around her body, twisting it tightly above her breast and then she turned off the bathroom light.

Angelica went over to the desk, turned on the lamp and then opened her laptop. She entered, “Waking up to strange humming or whooshing sound in the middle of the night” into her browser search bar. The nightly occurrences had started abruptly and were happening too frequently. If it wasn’t a helicopter, there had to be a medical explanation, she thought.

Links with information on UFOs and abductions appeared on the screen. “Are you kidding?” Angelica blurted and laughed uneasily at the synchronicity as she got up to retrieve the glass of Scotch left over from dinner.

Waking up in the middle of the night to strange sounds was taking its toll. Angelica leaned back and opened the first link: “Reported Alien Stories … the following stories are reported by people who claim to have been abducted by ETs.”

“What the hell am I doing?” She laughed.

Angelica stood up from her chair and looked around her hotel room. She quickly closed the site, turned off the lights, and decided to go back to sleep.

Collapsing onto the bed, she turned to her side. After fluffing her pillow, she noticed the soft silver glow of moonlight shining through the French doors leading to the balcony.

The cool beauty of the night gripped her, the emptiness of her bed and her heart, the trauma of waking up… it all seemed to collapse upon her, a crushing weight of loneliness. Tears began to softly well up in her eyes, and she drifted back to sleep.

             
T
he alarm on the bedside table was going off at eight o’clock in the morning. Angelica turned over and pressed the button at the top of the alarm clock and then lifted the covers, slowly getting up from the bed. She realized she had left the curtains open from the night before. The room was bright and warm from the sunlight.

She found her bag and pulled out a pair of grey and white striped boxers and a white tank top. She slipped the tank top over her head as she went into the bathroom and noticed the spots of dried blood on the countertop. Angelica gasped. “It wasn’t a dream,” she said as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

Angelica stepped out of the bathroom and remembered she wanted to meet with the Elberton reporter, so she went over to the desk and entered into Google “Matthew Tillman with the Elberton Tribune.”

Once she found him, she took her cell phone out of her purse and called the number from Elberton Tribune’s website directory. A man answered, “Hello, Matthew Tillman, Elberton Tribune.”

“Hello Matthew, my name is Angelica Bradley with the
Liberator Magazine
. I’m in town from D.C. doing a story on the cattle mutilation at the Keller Ranch.”

“Yes, wow, okay, Angelica… how can I help you?” he replied, completely surprised.

“I’d like to meet with you. I have a lot of ground to cover in a short period of time, and I would like to start with someone who’s been covering the story. Are you available to meet today?”

“Yes, would you like to come by my office? Are you close to the town square? Where are you staying?”

“I’m at the Elk Lodge.”

“You’re close. I could be there in a couple hours, say ten o’clock.”

“Perfect, I need to spend some time on my computer this morning,” Angelica said relieved and surprised by his flexibility on short notice.

“I’ll meet you in the restaurant there at ten.”

“Thank you, Matthew. I’ll see you then.”

             
A
ngelica could hear the sounds of the restaurant to her left as she stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. She wondered if Matthew was already seated. She needed to stop by the front desk. She couldn’t stop thinking about last night. Angelica anxiously walked over to the counter. “Excuse me. Hi… I have a question for you.” Angelica forced a smile.

The middle-aged brunette woman at the front desk smiled politely. “Yes, how may I help you?”

“Well,” Angelica paused for a moment, “Well, I was just curious. Do helicopters fly over the lodge at night?”

“No ma’am, that wouldn’t be permitted,” the woman responded quickly. Her eyes turned mindful as she tilted her head and lowered her eyebrows.

“Did any of the other guests complain of hearing a loud noise last night around three thirty in the morning?” Angelica’s eyes probed the lady’s face.

“No, I don’t believe so. If you’ll wait here for a moment, I’ll go ask my manager.”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary, thank you.” Angelica stepped away but had a second thought, then quickly turned back around. “Wait, yes, I would like to speak to your manager.”

The woman tilted her head again. “Okay, just a moment,” she replied, before she turned and walked through the door behind the counter, and returned immediately with a heavyset middle-aged man.

“How can I help you?” he asked, his voice robust, as he smiled politely.

“I was wondering. Well, I heard a loud noise in the middle of the night last night and… well, did any of the other guests complain of a noise around three in the morning?” Angelica asked anxiously as she glanced over to see a couple checking in, staring at her oddly. She pursed her lips, suddenly uncomfortable asking about the noise.

“No, ma’am, no one has complained of a noise.” He appeared concerned.

“I see. Thank you,” Angelica turned and slowly walked away. Looking down at the rustic red and tan southwestern style Persian rug as she moved across it, she paused briefly and shook her head, “Just doesn’t make sense… It was so loud,” she mumbled.

             
T
he restaurant was noisy as Angelica walked in and glanced around for Matthew, becoming distracted for a moment by the view of the mountains through the large windows on the other side of the room.

Angelica saw a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, light brown hair, wearing a tan cowboy hat, sitting alone in the corner close to the fireplace; so she took a chance and walked over to him. “Are you Matthew Tillman?”

“Yes. You must be Angelica,” he smiled, his eyes widened. He looked both startled and pleased.

Angelica heard the subtle crack in his voice. Matthew fidgeted in his seat. His face still appeared surprised. Angelica could see Matthew had become slightly nervous. She knew too well the signs of a man taken aback by her.  

Angelica made an effort to relax him with a joke. “So, do all Montana journalists wear cowboy hats?” she asked politely and smiled.

Matthew chuckled, “I believe they probably do ma’am.” He lowered his eyes appearing bashful. “I helped a friend on his ranch this morning. I wear one on occasion.” He took off his hat and revealed a crease in his hair. Then he stood up from his chair so she could take a seat across from him.

Matthew put his hat back on and adjusted it self-consciously. Angelica turned to notice the server standing beside her.

“I’ll have coffee and a bowl of fruit, thank you.”

The server smiled, nodded, and then looked at Matthew… “Anything for you?”

“Steak and eggs over easy,” he announced and then peered at Angelica.

Angelica smiled in the same innocent way she always did, before leaning down to retrieve her digital recorder, note pad and pen from her satchel.

“Angelica, I have to admit, you’re not what I expected. I mean…” Matthew hesitated after hearing Angelica let out a breath of frustration while raising back up and turning on the recorder.

Immediately, he realized he had just created an awkward moment. “So, where would you like to start?” he asked, swiftly.

Angelica appeared irritated after closing her satchel and placing her pad and pen on the table. He had been doing so well, she thought. Angelica stared at him and sized him up for a moment, trying to ignore the lack of couth. “Let’s start with you and what you think is causing the mutilations,” she said in a business-like tone.

“Okay, well, I think there is something very extraordinary going on, and it’s far more bizarre than the general public realizes.” His tone was flat.

“What are you saying, Matthew?” Angelica lowered her chin and smirked, remembering what the man at the gas station had said on her way to Elberton.

“Is it the government or something even more nefarious?” she asked sarcastically, widening her light blue eyes curiously.

“That’s an interesting question, Angelica,” Matthew’s smile turned to a smirk. “That’s a subject most people won’t touch and you just opened that can of worms right up.” Matthew let out a nervous laugh.

“You’re one of those tough journalists,” he said. He leaned back and stretched one of his arms around the back of his chair. “I bet you’re a real go-getter over in D.C.”

Angelica looked unmoved by his comments as her eyes penetrated his.

Matthew smiled, amused. He realized he could enjoy getting a rise out of her. “Well, to answer your question… yes, but it’s complicated.”

“What do you mean by complicated?” Angelica asked. “Who’s doing the mutilations? Is the government somehow involved in this? It seems very coincidental that all of these mutilations happen close to military bases. Are they doing some sort of experiment?” 

Matthew put both of his elbows on the table. “I don’t believe so, no.” Lowering his voice, he added, “But I believe they could be in contact with who is.”

“Okay, Matthew, I don’t speak in code.” Angelica bristled. “Are you saying that you believe other entities beyond the government are responsible, and the government is aware of it? You’re kidding, right?”

Matthew dropped his arms and leaned forward just as the server was placing their food on the table. He had finally had enough of the browbeating. “Angelica, this is going to be a game changer for you. Just be sure you’re ready for the truth because once you go down this rabbit-hole, your life will never be the same. And there is no turning back.”

Matthew took a bite of his steak, holding eye contact. Angelica, intrigued, took a sip of her coffee and a bite of her bagel. “Okay, give me what you have.”

“Well, back in 2000 was the first time it happened here in Elberton that we know of. It was Hugh Anderson’s ranch. He called the local police department and reported finding his second year heifer dead, “all sliced up.” Those were his words exactly.

I did the story on the mutilation and although I didn’t know it at the time, it would later be considered a “Classic Signature.” That’s what they call the mutilations with all the classic tell-tale signs. You know… in a remote area, reproductive organs removed… the removal of the tongue, an eye, an ear, drained of all blood with no blood on or around the carcass, no visible tracks or prints on the ground, no evidence of a struggle… rectal area bored out, jawbone exposed. You get the picture,” Matthew took a deep breath.

Angelica shook her head and raised her hand. “Whoa, whoa… slow down!”

Angelica put her pen down. “Really? So, that’s what happens in a mutilation case? So you’re saying they’re pretty much all the same?”

“Every once in a while they may have a few differences, but most of the things I described are usually prevalent and consistent. That’s how you know the difference from a scavenger and a “Classic Signature.”

Angelica picked her pen back up. “Fascinating.”

Matthew smiled his boyish smile before turning serious. “Some will still try to say it was some sort of animal, like, coyote, even after they’ve seen evidence suggesting otherwise… and there is hard evidence suggesting otherwise.” Matthew shook his head as he looked down. He cut a piece of steak and ran it through the undercooked yolk of his eggs.

“What you find,” he told her, “is that most people don’t want to believe anything outside of their comfort zone.”