Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series (9 page)

“Got any newspapers?” Jake asked.

The guy looked up, scratched at his cheek, and pointed to a rack near the door. “Yesterday’s paper right there.”

“You don’t have today’s paper?”

The guy shrugged. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll get it. Maybe not. Might come Sunday.”

“What about at the grocery store?”

“Nope. Same delivery guy. Same great service.”

Jake went to the rack, picked up a paper, rolled it up, and tucked it under his arm. It would have to do.

He returned to the counter. “You have cell service in this town?”

“Most of the time. Not always.” The clerk cocked his head and studied Jake. “You staying at the park?”

Jake nodded.

“Catching any fish?”

“A few.”

“Don’t catch too many. The game warden’ll fine you.” The guy frowned. “You have a fishing license?”

“Why’re you so interested?” Jake asked. “What’s with all the questions?”

The storekeeper closed his magazine, tossed it on the counter, and stood. “The game warden is my uncle. I want to be a warden some day.” He grinned a crooked grin. “Just practicing on you.” He held out a skinny hand. “My name’s Bob. Bob Fletcher. My uncle’s name is Andy. Same last name.”

Jake set the newspaper on the counter and shook the offered hand. “Haven’t seen him come around yet.”

“He might not. You just never know when he’s gonna show. Depends on how long you stay.” He looked down at the paper. “That all you’re buying?”

Jake pointed a thumb toward Matty and Kyle. “They’ll want something. Give us a few minutes.” He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. “Not very good reception.”

“Might be better outside,” the guy said.

Matty and Kyle came over with a large bag of potato chips and four cans of Coke. Jake paid for the purchases and they stepped outside. A group of four teenagers—two boys and two girls—had arrived and lounged near a bench outside the front door. They carried backpacks and looked like they’d been hiking all day. One lay on the grass nearby; another one guzzled water from a glass bottle.

“Don’t you guys go far,” Jake warned Matty. “I’m just going to call your mother.” He stepped to a quieter spot and checked his phone again. Four bars. Not bad.

Annie answered on the first ring. Jake grinned when he heard her voice. “Having a good time. Wish you were here,” he said.

“You sound like a postcard.”

“It’s great up here. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“I’m doing all right,” Annie said. “Chrissy and I are catching up. It’s a little quiet without you guys around, though.”

Jake laughed. “Yeah, I miss you too. We’ll be back soon. Anything new there? Any business come in?”

“I’m not planning on checking my email or phone messages until Monday. I’m taking a holiday. Business can wait.”

“Heard from Hank?”

“He called once. Nothing doing for him either. He’s spending most of the weekend with Amelia. I bet he doesn’t even miss you guys.”

Jake chuckled. “It’s just as well.”

They talked for a few more minutes before Jake hung up and wandered over to where Matty chatted with the hikers. One of them, a girl of eighteen or so, was telling him how far they’d hiked. “We’re going to jump the fence and spend the weekend in the forest.”

“You have a tent?” Matty asked.

The girl nodded and smiled. “We have a couple of small tents. Just fits two people each.”

“You do that often?” Jake asked.

“First time. We met online on a backpacking web site that puts hikers together who are in the same area. We hooked up yesterday.” She giggled at Jake’s worried look. “We’ve chatted online awhile, so it’s not like I don’t know them.”

Jake furrowed a brow. He knew how impulsive teenagers could be sometimes. He was one once. He glanced sideways at the two guys. They looked pretty normal. He was probably worried for nothing. “Just be careful,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound like an over-the-hill party pooper.

She giggled again. “We will.”

Jake said goodbye, packed the boys in the SUV, and then made the long ride back to their campsite, deep in the wilderness.

Chapter 19

Friday, 10:35 AM

VARICK LUCAS flipped the top off his beer bottle and took a swig. It was warm but better than nothing. He flung the cap through the air. It spun away, soared awhile, smacked into a tree, and hit the ground.

There were only about a dozen beers left in the case. He should’ve sent Otis for more before he dispatched him to the great beyond. He was beginning to have second thoughts about that. Perhaps Otis could’ve been useful around here. He’d have been a bit of company at the least, and someone to do his bidding at best.

Ah well, what’s done is done, and he preferred whisky anyway. It went down smoother, hit him quicker, and was easier to lug. Perhaps he would pick up some later on, but for now, this would have to do. Or maybe he could find some campers who had some alcoholic refreshments that he could steal when they weren’t around.

He strolled outside and lay down in the hammock. Otis’s supply of cigarettes wasn’t going to last forever either, but he lit one, dropped the packet on the ground beside him, and nestled in deeper. The smoke wafted up and gradually dissipated among the pines.

Things were ok right now, but he began to wonder if he could make it through the winter. There would be some boring times, that’s for sure. No TV, no radio, and he wasn’t much of a reader. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all. He might give it a few weeks, and then head west, maybe Vancouver. From there he could dip down into the states. Nobody would find him there.

Half an hour later he wondered how he would make it through the day, never mind a few weeks or more. Perhaps he would take a little hike to drum up some excitement.

He finished his beer in one haul, tossed the bottle aside, and climbed from the hammock. Adjusting the pistol behind his belt, he started into the forest.

Halfway to the campsite where he’d seen the big guy that morning, he heard what must have been at least three or four people tramping through the woods, talking and laughing.

He cursed Otis. Otis had said people rarely came around this area, and yet, the big guy was camped about a mile away, and now these people tramped on his territory.

He ducked behind a towering maple and watched the group pass by twenty yards away. It was a bunch of kids, backpacking. He could probably pick off all four of them in no time if he had the rifle with him. But that wouldn’t be sporting. That would be too easy.

One of the girls looked pretty good though. She reminded him of the times he and Otis used to have back before all this started. They’d had lots of women then. It had been years since he had been with a woman and he knew he could have a great time with this girl. But then if she recognized him, however unlikely, he would have to kill her after, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Best leave them alone.

They were headed toward the lake anyway, away from his cabin. Maybe they’ll keep going. He hoped they would drown in the lake and become fish food.

When they were safely out of view, he continued on, and soon reached the campsite he’d visited that morning. The big guy sat in a lawn chair, the boys at his feet, talking about something. The guy had his shirt off and somehow it made him look even bigger. His muscles bulged even when relaxed. Lucas shuddered. He didn’t want to have to tangle with him without a good dependable weapon.

He didn’t dare get close enough to listen in. He hoped they would leave soon, get out of his backyard and not come back.

Perhaps he would have to kill them after all. It was something to consider. Something to help with the boredom. He’d gotten the taste of blood now, and craved more. He’d seen a lot of blood in prison—senseless blood, some shed in thirst for control, even more spilled for a pack of smokes or a minor grudge. It bothered him at first, but he soon became accustomed to the sight. The power over others, brought by the shedding of blood, somehow fascinated him.

Prison had definitely matured him.

Lucas backed up a few feet, skirted around the site, went down to the lake, and sat on the rock where he’d seen the guy fishing. The morning mist still overhung the lake but would soon disappear as the sun grew hotter. He tossed a small stone into the water, watched it skip a time or two, and then sink. Except for the newly formed ripple, the lake was calm, quiet, and peaceful. Somehow it reminded him again of his mother and he felt torn between anger and sadness. Things might have been different if she hadn’t left him when she did.

He brushed away his feelings, climbed off the rock, and wandered across the beach. Somebody had built a rather lame-looking sandcastle there. Must be those boys. He kicked at it viciously until it was nothing but scattered sand. Yeah, that was his life right now—scattered sand, going nowhere, useless, and kicked around by circumstances beyond his control. He cursed his father bitterly and muttered to himself as he made his way back into the forest.

As he came closer to his cabin, he heard an unearthly scream, steadily becoming louder. It sounded like an animal, but shrieking like nothing he’d ever heard. He approached cautiously and grinned when he saw the sight. A rabbit had sprung one of Otis’s homemade snares and hung three feet off the ground, fighting for his life and scratching uselessly at the noose around his neck.

Lucas watched it awhile, fascinated with the sight—fascinated with the dumb creature’s struggle for survival, too stupid to realize it was all over.

Finally, Lucas found a branch the size of a baseball bat. He pounded at the rabbit, again, and again, the helpless animal swinging freely in the air, the screams long ago subsiding. He continued to batter the animal’s flesh until forced to stop, exhausted, and panting. The animal hung limp, almost beyond recognition, a mass of fur, tissue, and blood.

Lucas tossed the branch aside, spit, and turned his back on the sight. He felt better now.

Chapter 20

Friday, 11:55 AM

MATTY KICKED THE soccer ball across the beach toward Kyle, and then wandered under the shade of an old oak and dropped down. Kyle grabbed the ball and sat nearby. They had tired in the hot sun, their game of one-on-one soccer now over.

Matty wiped his brow on his t-shirt. “You want to take a hike?”

“Sure.”

They climbed the hill to the campsite where Jake dozed in the lawn chair. He opened his eyes and suppressed a yawn as they approached.

“Dad, we’re just going to take a hike, ok?”

Jake sat forward. “Ok, but don’t go far and be back soon, and take your compass with you. Do you remember how to use it?”

“No problem, Dad. You’re a good teacher, and we won’t be gone long.” Matty opened the door to the SUV, dug out his backpack and returned. “Let’s go, Kyle.”

“You have bear spray in there, too?” Jake asked.

Matty nodded. “Yup.” He put the pack on, went to the tent and grabbed a couple cans of soda, dumped them into his pack, and headed into the forest, Kyle at his side. “See you soon,” he called back.

The natural path between the trees soon petered out and the immense array of green became thicker. The forest floor felt soft under their shoes, a thick carpeting of soil, fallen leaves, pine needles, and moss. Sun filtered through the trees, producing an ever-moving dappled pattern.

They romped through the trees for a few minutes before the denseness of the forest opened into a natural clearing a hundred feet wide. The ground was rocky with some patches of fertile soil producing a rich shade of grass. Small saplings grew at the edges of the clearing.

“Look there,” Matty whispered and pointed.

Kyle’s eyes grew wide as he gazed at the sight of a deer, quietly emerging from the edge of the forest to graze in the clearing. It raised its head in their direction; its nostrils flaring to catch their scent. In a flash it was gone, sensing danger.

Kyle’s attention was drawn by a squirrel that darted in and out of sight. It raced across the clearing, Kyle following behind, and then disappeared.

Matty wrinkled his nose. He’d caught the faint scent of a skunk from somewhere nearby. He knew enough to steer clear of them if they happened upon one.

“We should be getting back, Kyle,” Matty said. “I told my dad we wouldn’t be long.”

“Just a few more minutes?”

“Better not,” Matty said, as he removed his backpack. He was pretty sure he knew which way was the right way back, but he should check the compass to be sure.

Kyle was disappointed. “OK, let’s go.” He turned, and then stopped short and pointed. A small bear cub stood ten feet away at the edge of the clearing.

Matty stopped digging in his backpack; the compass could wait. “Get back, Kyle. This way,” he warned.

Kyle crouched and held out a hand toward the cub. “It’s only a tiny one. It can’t hurt us.”

As if in answer, a black bear ambled out of the forest and stopped. It was the mother. It glared at them, tossing its head, and then emitted a low growl, huffing and blowing through its nostrils. The boys stood frozen as the protective female swatted the ground with its forepaws. Matty held his breath, watching, unable to move as the animal lowered its head and drew back its ears.

Kyle inhaled a sharp breath and jumped to his feet, ready to charge the other way. Matty reached out, grabbed him by the arm, and whispered, “Don’t move.”

The boys stood frozen a moment. “Back up, slowly,” Matty warned, his heart galloping as he reached carefully in his backpack, searching desperately for the bear spray.

The animal took a step toward them and huffed again. That was enough for Matty. The backpack slipped through the fingers of the frightened boy as he tugged at Kyle. In three quick, backwards steps they were at the tree line. A moment later they ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

Matty chanced a look back. The bear wasn’t following, likely content it had scared off another predator. But he wasn’t taking any chances. They ran for several minutes and finally collapsed on the ground, panting, frightened, and worn out.