Off the Beaten Path (16 page)

Jack walked into the plush waiting room of Clarence A. Palmer, Attorney at Law offices. He noticed immediately that there were no other attorney’s listed on the masthead of the office. Jack thought to himself clearly Clarence doesn’t play well with others. The secretary looked up at Jack from painting her finger nails like he was a lost delivery man. And her first words confirmed her opinion of him, the

“May I help you.” sounded more like, “What the hell are you doing here.”

Jack took his hat off and asked, “Is Mr. Palmer in?” The secretary did not confirm or deny if Clarence was in the office she simply asked with the tone of a watchdog, “Who may I say is asking?”

“Would you kindly tell Mr. Palmer that Jack Evans would like to speak with him for a moment?”

The secretary almost knocked over her finger nail polish coming to her feet,

“You’re Jack Evans?” She rushed around the desk to offer Jack a seat and a cup of coffee. When Jack was settled into the thick leather couch with a cup of gourmet coffee in his hand the secretary asked,

“Is there anything else I can get you Mr. Evans before I see if Mr. Palmer is available?”

Jack thanked her for her hospitality and told her he was fine, he just needed a moment of Mr. Palmer’s time. The secretary hurried off down the hall and was gone a good five minutes before she came back and told Jack that Mr. Palmer was in a meeting but he would be out in a few minutes. Jack looked around the waiting room and spotted a closed circuit camera mounted in the upper corner of the waiting room. He suspected that Clarence was watching him right now and deciding whether or not to come out and talk to him. Jack was fairly certain that he would not be invited into his private office, for a couple of reasons.

Clarence appeared in the hallway that led into the waiting room as if he had snuck down the hall without wanting to be seen or heard. As Jack stood up Clarence took a step backward and held up his hand for
Jack not to come any closer. Jack could still see the swelling on his face and Clarence was wearing a neck brace that Jack was sure was just for show.

“I’m surprised that you would be so bold Mr. Evans.” Clarence said in a wavering tone.

“I came to apologize for my actions the other night.” Jack offered humbly.

The offer of an apology seemed to embolden Clarence as he took a single step in Jack’s direction and asked, “Does Kristin know that you’re here?”

“No, and I would prefer that she didn’t.” Jack answered deliberately.

“I didn’t think she would.” Clarence said with just a little more audacity in his voice. His lawyer instincts were boiling to the surface and he launched into one of his cross-examinations like he was in front a packed courtroom with all eyes on him,

“Mr. Evans, my guess is that Kristin and her attorney tried to dissuade you from coming to see me?”

“They did.” Jack responded.

“And I’m sure that you realize that there is nothing you could possibly say that would make me drop the law suit I have filed.”

“I realize that fully.” Jack said in the tone of a man patiently waiting for an opponent to run out of steam.

“Then what possible reason could you have for coming here today?” Clarence asked.

“I told you earlier, I just came to apologize. I’m sorry for what happened.” Jack extended his hand even though he was sure Clarence would not accept his apology. He let his hand hang in midair for a few seconds then he dropped it to his side. He looked over at Clarence’s secretary thanked her for the coffee and her hospitality and turned to go. He was halfway to the door when he heard Clarence in a desperate voice call after him, “This doesn’t change a thing.”

Jack stopped and turned slowly back toward Clarence. He smiled politely at the secretary then he looked thoughtfully at Clarence and said,

“Clarence, there is an old saying in the Military, Sicus Pacus Parabellum, If you want peace, Prepare for war.”

As Jack turned to go he heard the secretary’s nervous laughter and Clarence snarl at her something about getting back to work. Jack walked out the front door climbed into the pickup with Sam and headed for home.

Fear and Courage

The River was higher and more violent than anyone could remember seeing it in years. The boulders that usually protruded above the water line like smooth granite islands were now just indentations in the river that the strong current flowed over. The grass reeds that lined the river had disappeared under the surface and dead fall trees that had lined the shores for years were struggling to remain upright. Although it appeared to be a gently flowing mountain stream the current could be deceptively powerful. To the thousands of tourists that drove by the river each year it looked like a peaceful stream that someone could just take off their shoes and socks and simply wade across. The deception lay under the surface of the water. The calm backwater that swirled around behind a boulder in the middle of the river could be hiding a drop off that could swallow a full grown man before he knew what happened. The rocks that protruded out of the water and appeared to be stepping stones across the surface could be as slick as if they were coated with motor oil. Even the shallowest sections of the river sustained a current that could knock a man off his feet if his footing was not sure and solid.

The first lesson every fly fisherman learned was not how to place a fly exactly where you thought the fish were or how to coax a five pound trout into your net without breaking your line. The first lesson was balance, if you do not maintain your balance you could wind up floating face down in the river until Search and Rescue pulled your bloated body out from under a tree stump. Balance wasn’t just
about avoiding slippery rocks and finding a secure place in the current to stand, it was watching everything around you. That is why Jack came to the river with his fly rod and Samantha in tow, for balance.

Jack stood at the edge of the river throwing the his line back and forth with the tempo of a man discontented with what he was doing. The first fly that he had tied on had snapped off the end of the leader as if the sheer force of his motion could not hold the fly in place. The fly he was using now had spent more time in the air than on the surface of the water. Everything about his visit to the river tonight was restless and uneasy. He had lost his balance descending the river bank and almost tumbled down the embankment and come to rest at to the edge of the river. The wind had kicked up and Jack was having trouble guiding the line and the fly exactly where he wanted it to go. He had not had so much as a nibble and to make matters worse it looked like a storm was coming over the top of the mountain Sam barked at him like it was time to go.

Jack gathered up his gear and they climbed the bank to the road where his truck was parked just as it started to rain. They were almost to their turn off the dirt road when Jack switched off his blinker and drove past the dirt road in the direction of Ruby’s cafe. When they walked into the cafe there were only a handful of locals sitting around a couple of tables that had been pulled together it looked like an unofficial committee meeting of the local ranchers association. One of the older gentlemen pulled out a chair and invited Jack to sit down. As he took off his hat and coat one of the other members of the group asked Jack,

“Get rained off the River Jack?”

“Ya, fish weren’t biting anyway.”

The old man raised his eyebrows smiled a doubtful and offered up some advice,

“It helps if you actually allow the fly to land on the water son.”

Jack looked at the old man with a questioning glance. The older gentleman saved him the effort of figuring out how he knew about his latest trip to the river,

“I saw your truck parked alongside the road earlier I slowed down to see how you were doing.”

“Jack, if you don’t mind me saying, you looked like you were chopping wood not fly fishing.”

Jack didn’t respond he knew the old man was right. Whatever he had been doing out on the river this afternoon it didn’t have anything to do with the valley, it was as unbalanced as his ascent down the river bank and it damn sure wasn’t the gentle art of fly fishing.

Kristin sat at her desk trying her best to concentrate on her work. It had been almost a week since Jack and Sam had climbed into that old truck and headed back to Montana. She had thrown herself into her work. Kristin had got more work done in the last week than she had done in the last six months. Becca had managed to pull her away from her work one day for lunch but she could tell that her best friend was more anxious and driven as she had ever seen her. It was as if she was trying to solve a problem that had been eating away at her for a long time. A problem that she was very close to solving. A problem that once solved would give her back something she surrendered a long time ago.

“You know that you have swung from one extreme to the other” Becca suggested thoughtfully.

“I suppose so.” Kristin said in the tone of a person who was fighting to remain convinced of her own position.

“I was praying that something like this would happen to you.”

Kristin looked at her best friend with mild shock.
      

“You like seeing me on an emotional roller-coaster?”

“No, but out of all of this you will find a middle ground at some point.” Becca suggested.

Kristin didn't tell Becca the thing making her the most anxious at the moment was the troubling thought that she was being watched, maybe even followed. There was nothing concrete just a nagging feeling that someone was keeping an eye on her, and not in a good way. She had
noticed a silver BMW on more than one occasion parked just outside her apartment first thing in the morning when she left for work.

One morning last week she thought that she had seen the BMW tucked into the stream of traffic a couple car lengths behind her. She made an eradicate exit off the highway onto an exit ramp that was not her usual exit just to see if the car would follow her. She had made the turn to fast for the car to follow her, but when she slowed down coming off the highway she looked over at the sliver BMW. The man in the dark sunglasses behind the wheel of the BMW was looking straight at her. When he saw that she was looking at him he turned his head just a little too quickly back to the road and accelerated into the next lane and behind a tractor trailer rig.

Kristin knew that if she told Becca about her concern that she would take certain precautions. Before Kristin could set her coffee cup down Becca would have Dean and Jake attached to her like a couple of guard dogs. That was not their job; their job was to protect the models from would be stalkers, and crazy ex-boyfriends. Kristin did not want her unfounded fears putting any of the girls that trusted her in jeopardy.

Becca took another sip of her coffee and shifted the conversation to a lighter note.

“So, how is Mr. Tall dark and rugged?” She asked with a devious smile.

This comment brought a smile back to Kristin's face and she blushed just enough to let Becca know that she hadn't been totally thinking about work. She shifted her gaze down to her half eaten lunch and took a healthy bite of her snow crab salad hoping that Becca would change the subject, she knew better.

“When are we going to see him again?” Becca asked bluntly.

“I'm not sure.” she said, the heavy look returning to her face.

Becca leaned back in her chair and said wistfully as if she was changing the subject, “Well, I think that I will take a little vacation. Maybe take a little trip out to Montana and see if I can find me a tall, good lookin' Cowboy that can help relieve a little of my stress.”

Kristin shifted her eyes up from her plate at Becca and said in a biting tone,

“He might even turn you into a lady.”

“Not possible,” Becca shot back, and made another proclamation just loud enough for most of the other lunch patron's to hear,

“You know what my Grandfather used to say.

“Treat all Ladies like whores, and all whores like ladies.”

This brought sounds of indignation and a few looks of disgust form the upstanding patrons seated around them in the trendy little bistro. The comment also inspired a snort of laughter from her best friend. Kristin thought to herself, that was Becca, rude, crude and unsophisticated. But she wouldn't trade her friendship for anything in the world.

“Which one are you?” Kristin asked with a naughty smile.

“The jury is still out on that one.” Becca replied innocently.

They finished their lunch and headed back to the agency, Becca satisfied that her best friend was not going off the deep end again.

Two days later Jake was dropping his girlfriend off at her sister's house on Queen Ann Hill. They had done their usual Wednesday night dinner and a movie and Jake was doing his level best to convince Monica that he should come in and give her a proper kiss good night. Monica used to work for Kristin, Jake and she had begun dating after she left modeling to get her degree in fashion design.

After the tenth or twelve kiss Jake could tell he was wearing her down, she was starting to melt. He reached his hand up under the almost see thru blouse she was wearing and slipped his hand under the lace black bra. Her skin was warm and soft and her breasts were absolutely perfect. She gave a breathless moan and realized that she was almost completely gone. What brought her back was Jake's laugh; he gave a sinister little laugh like he had won the tug of war. Monica pulled away from Jake and said with her own sinister little laugh,

“Okay, tough guy I'm not going down without a fight.” She balled up one hand into a fist and playfully punched him in the ribs. It didn't hurt much but Jake doubled over like she had punched him harder that she really had. At that exact moment Jake felt another stabbing pain in his right shoulder. It felt like a really bad bee sting, but Jake knew better.