Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (6 page)

He touched the gun at his waist, a backup weapon if necessary. He’d already left a lot of bodies in his wake and he only had firm plans for one more before he settled into his life of ease and freedom.

His plan had necessitated going east, and that meant he was many miles out of his way. Fortunately, traffic was sparse on this stretch of highway.

He glanced in his rear-view mirror. Satisfied no one was behind, he hit the brakes hard, spun onto the shoulder, jumped from the vehicle, and popped the trunk. Dead eyes stared up at him as he dug in the pockets of the victim and found a wallet. Lucas flipped it open. It contained the usual stuff. Credit cards, driver’s license, and a couple hundred in cash. Lucas could use the cash. He removed the bills, stuffed them into his pants pocket and tossed the wallet back into the trunk.

He hoisted the body out, dropped it onto the shoulder of the road and rolled it into the ditch. It would be found there before long. Someone in a passing car would be sure to see it. Just what he wanted.

He glanced down the road. No traffic in sight. He jumped in, spun back onto the highway, and sped away.

Time now to head north, then back west to get to his destination. He took the next off-ramp, circled around the cloverleaf interchange, and entered a northbound two-lane highway.

Ottawa stood pretty much north of him, an hour or so away, but he wanted to avoid it. He would take the side roads before he reached the city, and then head west.

He thought back to more innocent times. He couldn’t put a finger on exactly when his life had changed. Despite his out of control father, Varich had been known as a peacemaker in school. Always the last to fight, and the first to make up. He was the teacher’s pet, and the pride of his mother. Then everything changed. He changed.

But for better or for worse, he was what he was, and he was going to make the best of it. No use dwelling on what could have been—what came next was all that mattered.

Two hours later he was just about where he wanted to be as he approached the small town of Sanridge. A red light on the dash told him the vehicle was dangerously low on gas. He didn’t have far to go now, but he would never make it. Wheels ground and snapped on gravel as he pulled in front of a gas pump at a small general store. In a moment, a wizened old man came out.

Lucas wound down his window, keeping his face covered by the sun visor. “Five dollars worth.”

“Just five?”

“Yup.”

As the man pumped the gas, Lucas glanced around. The only other vehicle in sight was a Toyota RAV4 parked in front of the building. A couple of boys ran around in front of the store. He could vaguely make out someone moving around inside the shop.

“That’s five dollars, sir.”

Lucas handed a bill through the window without turning his head, pulled away, and turned back on the highway. Soon, he left the little town behind. Forests lined both sides of the road and everything looked pretty much all the same to him. But he’d been here before and knew the place he was looking for was just ahead.

He kept an eye on the left side of the road and in a few minutes, breathed a sigh of relief. There it was. A narrow lane, and no traffic around. He pulled into the laneway and up to a chain-link gate. Paying no heed to a large “Danger/No Trespassing” sign, he swung open the unlocked gate, drove inside, and then closed the gate.

He jumped back in the vehicle and took a rarely used lane in about a quarter mile. There it is. He smiled grimly and pulled the vehicle to within a few feet of a large quarry. He climbed from the car and eased up to the edge. It was filled with murky water, still and quiet. A perfect place to hide a vehicle. He couldn’t afford it to be found and possibly connected to him. That would ruin all his plans.

He glanced around, found a sturdy stick, broke off a piece about eighteen inches long, and returned to the vehicle. The engine roared as he wedged the stick between the seat and the gas pedal. That should do it. He opened the driver window, jumped out, closed the door, and then reached in and pulled the gearshift into drive. The tires whined on the grass and spat up gravel as the vehicle sped ahead, spun sideways, and then toppled into the quarry.

Lucas watched with grim relief as the car filled with water and slowly sank. Bubbles rose for a few minutes, and then all was still again.

He turned his back on the scene and walked toward the highway. He didn’t have far to go now and he could easily make it the rest of the way on foot. He walked down the shoulder of the road, keeping an eye out for traffic in either direction. He ducked into the ditch and lay low as the SUV he saw at the general store came into view and breezed by.

He estimated he’d walked about a mile when he noticed a familiar landmark—a large outcropping of rock. This was the place. He hopped the fence, made his way into the forest of Algonquin Park, and wound his way among the trees. He wished he had a compass, but it was too late for that now. He felt pretty sure he knew where he was going. At any rate, he was in no hurry now, being well out of danger.

An hour later he topped a knoll and smiled at the sight of a log cabin.

“Ah. Home at last.”

Chapter 12

Thursday, 7:02 PM

JAKE PULLED THE vehicle into the parking lot and stepped out. Of the several vehicle entry points to Algonquin Park, the North Gate was nearest to where they were headed.

Matty and Kyle tagged along behind as Jake entered the rustic building that offered visitors a small snack bar, public telephones, rest rooms, and other amenities.

He approached the counter where a smiling young woman rose from her seat behind a desk and approached him. She dropped her arms on the counter, leaned forward, and asked in a cheerful voice, “You been here before?”

Jake nodded. “A couple of times.”

“Where you headed?”

Although there were numerous drive-in campgrounds in Algonquin, the park is better known for its interior camping accessible only by canoe or hiking in the summer, or plodding through snow in the winter. Jake preferred something in between—something remote and quiet, but accessible without a lot of hiking.

“Wendigo Lake,” he answered.

The woman waved a pencil at him. “That’s a long way in. Things might look civilized right here,” she said. “But the further you proceed from this point, the wilder the park becomes. It’s possible to spend several days in there without seeing any other people.”

“That’s ok,” Jake said, and offered a smile. “That’s why we’re here.”

The woman looked down at the boys. “You guys watch out for bears, now. They’re probably more afraid of you than you are of them, but don’t get too close if you see one.”

Matty grinned up at the woman. “Don’t worry. We’ve got some bear spray.”

“I’m not afraid,” Kyle put in.

Jake paid for a three-day permit and grabbed a brochure from a display rack. He flipped through it. It contained basic information on the park as well as tips and protocol. The last section warned against approaching bears and other wildlife. Jake folded it and tucked it into his back pocket.

“Here’s a map of the area.” The woman handed him a sheet of paper. She tapped at one spot with her pencil. “Here’s Wendigo Lake.” She moved the pencil down to the bottom of the page. “And here’s a list of all the trails. Please keep your vehicle on the main road until you reach the lake.” She smiled and added, “There might be some rough terrain, so drive carefully.”

Jake assured her they would and stuffed the map and permit into his shirt pocket. “Let’s go, boys.”

They got in the car and drove to the main gate where he showed his pass. The attendant gave it a cursory look and handed it back. “Have a good time now.”

The road was smooth going for the first couple of miles, and then slowly deteriorated into a narrower, bumpy ride. According to the vehicle’s compass, the trail wound south for several miles, and then west. As the vehicle topped the final rise, the sparkling lake waters came into view.

“There it is,” Matty shouted.

Jake drove a few hundred more feet, and then pulled the SUV onto a lush, grassy area between two towering maples. He looked around at their private getaway, nestled in a forest of mature pine, maple, and hemlock trees. To the right, masses of blueberries grew near smooth rock outcrops. Everywhere, the goldenrods were in full bloom, a reminder autumn was not far away.

“Don’t wander off,” Jake said, as they climbed out. “I want to get the tent up before dark and I’ll need your help.”

It took them half an hour to erect the shelter, the boys possibly being more hindrance than help. Matty and Kyle unloaded the rest of the gear, lugging it to the tent.

“Not the food,” Jake said. “Bears are constantly looking for food and they’ll smell it a mile away. Our tent will be a shambles if they dig for it and they’ll keep coming back. We’ll never get rid of them. Leave all the food inside the vehicle, as well as soap, toothpaste, and anything they can smell.”

In a few minutes, they had everything organized and Jake dropped into a lawn chair and stretched his legs in front of him, enjoying the quiet, unspoiled calm. A small woodpecker worked in the tree above his head. A flock of geese honked as they flew over, heading south.

“Hey, Dad. We’re hungry.”

They spent a few minutes scrounging for firewood. The wild forest around them was littered with dead branches and trees and soon they had a fire going, wieners sizzling over the flame, and buns toasting nearby.

When they finished eating, Matty asked, “Can we go look at the lake now?”

“And go swimming?” Kyle added.

“Sure.”

The boys changed into their swim trunks and soon the three of them snaked their way through the heavy grass and down to the water’s edge. A moose fed in the shallows a hundred feet away. It reared its head when they approached and lumbered into the thick foliage.

Off to their right, a mother loon taught her lone chick the finer arts of fishing. It paid them no attention, safely out of reach of the intruders. To the east, where the large bay on the edge of the lake met the western sky, a natural rock dam forced a river into a torrent where it dumped into the lake. This was nature at its best.

Matty and Kyle had wandered into the water, the shallow beaches of the lake allowing them to wade out fifty feet where the still water was only waist deep.

Jake sank down onto a rock, enjoying the serenity of the spot, entranced by the majestic beauty. The evening sun painted the sky as it dropped over the western horizon. It would be dark soon.

Chapter 13

Thursday, 7:12 PM

VARICK LUCAS leaned against a towering pine and observed the cabin. It perched in the middle of a small clearing, surrounded by weeds, and everything appeared to be undisturbed, just as it was when he was last here, several years ago. Back then, he and the guys were more interested in whatever bass and lake trout they could pull out, maybe a little canoeing up and down the rivers, and of course, to see how much beer they could drink in a weekend.

Today was a different matter, however. He was looking for a place to lie low awhile—maybe for years—and this would be the perfect spot. He could always trap some game and steal other necessary supplies from the nearby town. And there were always unsuspecting campers a couple of miles east he could rob. He’d done that before as well, and never got caught.

He stood upright, eased down the knoll, waded through the weeds, and approached the cabin from the rear. He peered in through a small window, dead center of the back of the building. The interior was dim, the surrounding trees keeping out most of the light. A few rays shone through a side window and lit up one end of the room, revealing a small cot.

It appeared someone had been here recently, and perhaps was close by. That was pretty much what he expected.

He crept around toward the front of the building, stopped at the corner, poked his head around, and grinned. His old friend, Otis, lounged in a tattered hammock, a beer in one hand, a smoke in the other. He’d changed a lot, but there was no mistake about it; it was Otis. He was gonna be in for a surprise.

“Otis,” Lucas shouted, stepping into clear view.

Otis shot upright. The hammock teetered and spilled him onto the ground, his beer draining away onto the trodden-down weeds and soil surrounding him. He sat in the dirt and peered at his old friend, a dumbfounded look on his face. Finally, he sputtered, “What the … Varick Lucas … how the—”

Varick interrupted and took a couple of steps forward. “Happy to see me Otis?”

Otis made it to his feet, stuck the smoke in his mouth, and stood glaring at Lucas. “Varick, you’re out already? I thought—”

“Thought what, Otis?”

“I thought … they put you away for good.”

“They tried to. Couldn’t hold me. I found my own way out.” Varick settled into a lawn chair, leaned back, and crossed his arms. He looked disapprovingly at his friend, at his ragged beard, his tattered clothes, his uncombed hair straggling down over his ears. He looked like a tramp, and smelled like he could use a dip in the lake. “So, you didn’t answer my question, buddy. Are you happy to see me?”

“I, uh … yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lucas squinted at Otis. “Maybe because if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have spent the last five years rotting behind bars.”

Otis looked uneasy and spoke in an almost pleading voice. “Come on, Varick. You know that wasn’t my fault. I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Otis. You could’ve kept your mouth shut about that night.”

“But you left me there to hang. And the woman saw you plug the guard.”

“I had a ski mask on, Otis. They never saw my face.”

Otis ground his cigarette into the dirt, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and kept his eyes on the ground a moment. Finally, he raised his head and spoke firmly. “They had me cold; it was either me or you. I was going to go down for murder and they offered me immunity if I testified against you.”