Resolution: Evan Warner Book 1 (20 page)

27

It took me a solid half an hour to complete my patrol and get back to cabin 2. The porch was empty as I passed. Kendra and Charles were inside. The daylight was fading fast and I could see lights in the cabin.

Back at my own cabin I resumed preparing for the night’s mission. Wearing gloves I wiped down the guns I would use and wiped down all the shell casings before loading each of the magazines. Odds were I wouldn’t fire a shot. I honestly hoped I wouldn’t. But it would be foolish to be unprepared. Possibly deadly. Tommy Brady hated me almost as much as I hated him.

My primary weapon would be my Colt M4. It was light and effective and accurate and easy to carry with a sling. On the top rear rail I had a night scope mounted. On the bottom forward rail there was a forward handle grip, a laser sight, and a flashlight. All useful tools for various scenarios.

For backup I settled on my Ruger .22. It was the only pistol I had a suppressor for. It was light and accurate enough, and with the suppressor it could come in very handy in a pinch.

And I had a knife. A Becker BK7. A seven-inch blade with a nasty clipped point. Big enough to handle any job and small enough to tote without hassle. The black blade would not shine or reflect in the dark. The knife was easy to carry in its leather sheath mounted horizontally on my belt at the small of my back. Out of sight and out of the way. Easy to reach in an emergency. Highly effective if needed. The edge was sharper than most razors. It could slice wispy phonebook paper without the slightest catch.

Frank came over and sniffed everything lined up on the kitchen counter. He had been watching me the whole time. He knew something was up.

“You’ll be staying home tonight,” I informed him.

He looked at me, tried raising his floppy ears.

“No doggies allowed.”

He let out a long whine.

“Want me to sing you a song?”

No response.

“Want me to sing
Let It Go
?”

He didn’t.

“Will a cookie make you feel better?”

He sat down and stared at me intently, essentially saying, “Sure can’t hurt.”

I gave him a treat and then we went out to the porch. I sat down and lit a smoke and we watched the night coming on. I went over everything in my mind. Visualizing everything. Trying to put myself right in the action. I sat there doing that until it was completely dark.

I was just thinking about calling Willie when I saw headlights approaching. His truck came into view and he parked parallel with the front lawn. He stepped out and came around the bed of the truck. He was wearing dark sweatpants and a dark long-sleeved tee. In his hand he had a huge cup of iced coffee.

“You bring one for me?” I asked.

“I forgot.”

“Didn’t forget about tonight, though.”

“No way. I have no life now. Remember?”

Willie sat down on the steps. Frank said hello and then returned to his bed.

“Do you mind driving?” I asked.

“No.”

“If I was flying solo, I’d take the four-wheeler right from here.”

“We’ll take my truck. I don’t care.”

“There’s one small complication.”

He looked at me in the dark.

I said, “The girl, Kendra, wants to go with us. She’s here with her father, over in cabin two.”

“Think that’s a good idea?” he asked.

“No. But she’s hell-bent on going.”

“You want me to babysit, is that it?”

“If we can’t convince her to stay here, yeah.”

“I’ve been thinking. It’s gonna be tricky sneaking up on Tommy’s place.”

“Exactly. It’ll be much easier on me if I go alone. I’ve got a vest and a night scope. I can sneak in and look around and text you if I need backup.”

“What can I carry?” he asked.

“My shotgun, if you want. The nine or the forty-five. Whatever. Anything but the Magnum.”

“Didn’t figure you’d let me touch that.”

“No one touches her. She’s mine.”

Willie laughed quietly.

“Hey,” he said after a pause. “You still got that black AK?”

“Yeah, but it’s not loaded. You’ll have to wipe down some shells and load a few mags.”

“I wouldn’t mind carrying that,” he said.

“It’s not as accurate as the M4 or as easy as the shotgun.”

“Yeah, but it’s scary and loud as hell.”

“That it is.”

Willie went in and got busy prepping his rifle of choice. The ugly but effective Kalashnikov. My particular example has a polymer muzzle guard and an aftermarket stock, but it’s still an ugly weapon.

I had one more cigarette and then went in and made a pot of coffee. Seeing Willie’s big cup had sparked the idea. Monkey see, monkey do. And I figured I had a long night ahead of me. Some extra caffeine couldn’t hurt.

I had just poured a big mug and fixed it up when I heard someone step onto the porch. Frank didn’t bark. Didn’t seem surprised by who it was. Kendra knocked on the screen door’s frame. Frank stood across from her, wagging his whole rear end.

“Come on in,” I said.

She opened the door and stepped in. She had on the same clothes and safari hat as before. Except now she had a dark hoodie and a wide line of eye black spread across each cheek. Like a quarterback before a big game under the sun or bright stadium lights.

“Ready?” she said.

“What are
you
ready for?” I returned.

“Anything,” she said. She wasn’t smiling and trying to taunt me or pay me back for what I’d done at her house. She was dead serious.

Willie stepped into the kitchen with the AK-47 pointed at the floor. Took a gander at Kendra. She took a gander at him. There was a moment of quiet assessment on each side.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey,” he replied. “Going to a game?”

“What do you mean?”

“The eye black,” I said.

“Aren’t we sneaking around in the dark?”

Willie started laughing.

“What?” Kendra said, looking back and forth.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Are you really going to play the
no girls allowed
game?”

“Guess not,” I said. “You’ve got every right to be in danger and be charged with a crime if you get caught.”

“I do,” she said. “Because Simon’s
my
dog.”

I nodded. I was done resisting her. She was too emotionally invested in the mission to be persuaded. The only way I could realistically stop her would be to duct tape her to a tree. And I didn’t quite have the heart to do it.

Willie transferred the rifle to his left hand and held out his right as he introduced himself. Kendra shook his hand and introduced herself. Her hand was lost inside his. Watching them, it occurred to me that if Willie tripped, Kendra would end up in a body cast.

After that she looked around for a moment and noticed the pot of coffee.

“Help yourself,” I said. “Mugs are in the cupboard over the pot.”

“Are these cabins all the same?” she asked while making the coffee.

“Carbon copies,” I answered.

“I like them. So does Dad. He says there’s something about being in a log cabin that just makes him feel good.”

“It’s cozy,” I said. “Homey.”

“Manly,” Kendra said. “From his point of view.”

I stuck my lower lip out and grunted.

She looked at the fridge. Most people hang pictures of family on their fridge with magnets. Mine had various pictures of Max and Frank, a random wolf, and a few pictures of some infamous people. Not family. Kendra pointed to one and asked who he was.

“That’s Prince Vlad,” I said. “The Impaler.”

“He looks hideous. Why do you have his picture next to Frank’s?”

“The guy was a boss,” I said. “Didn’t take any grief from anyone.”

“Inspiration,” Willie explained.

“Okay,” she said under her breath.

“And the angry guy with the two pistols is Josey Wales,” I said.

“He looks cheery,” she said. “Adds warmth to the kitchen.”

I said, “Hey, don’t make light of Clint Eastwood in my house.”

She turned away with her coffee.

“Don’t look in the small bedroom,” Willie told her.

She said, “Well that just makes me wonder.”

“Up to you,” I said. “Just don’t touch anything.”

She crossed the small living room. Opened the door and flicked on the light. Peeked into my armory. Promptly stepped back, flicked the light, spun, and came back to the kitchen. Her eyes were a little wider, but she said nothing.

“Satisfied?” I said.

“I don’t know what I am.”

“Okay,” I said and went out to the porch.

Nerves were starting to kick in. It was almost time. I lit a cigarette and sat in my rocker. Kendra and Willie and Frank followed me out. The little porch was full.

“You good?” Willie asked me.

“Yeah. Let me finish this and we’ll go.”

28

“What about this guy?” Kendra asked.

“Tommy Brady,” I said. “He’s an asshole, plain and simple.”

She looked to Willie for clarification.

He said, “Evan hates Tommy because he killed their class bunny rabbit in first grade.”

“Snowball,” I said.

“Why’d he kill an innocent bunny?”

“He just likes pissing people off,” Willie explained. “He’s a stuck up little snot. A thumb sucker. A bed wetter. Evan had to go all through school with him in the same grade.”

“Twelve years,” I said. “Plus kindergarten.”

“I only hear insults,” Kendra said. “What exactly do you mean?”

“He’s got that spoiled rich boy attitude,” Willie said. “He’s an only child and his dad runs a big business. Makes good money. Has all this expensive equipment. There’s no competition in this little town for road agent, so they can charge whatever they want for whatever they want. That’s on top of doing side jobs. So they’ve got money, and Tommy struts around like he’s better than everyone. In reality, everyone else can see that he ain’t done shit but ride his daddy’s coattails.”

Kendra was nodding and listening. Sipping her coffee.

“It’s not just any one thing with him,” I explained. “It’s a thousand little things. A thousand little incidents over the years. Nothing I say will mesh well with your idea of being nice and hoping others return the favor.”

“Okay,” she said. Almost like a question. Like she wanted to hear more.

I said, “At school he made fun of kids that didn’t have all the fancy stuff he did. He’d smile if something bad happened to someone. At little league practice he tried to act like he was something special, when he wasn’t. I’m a mediocre athlete, and I got more hits than he did. And around town, with people, he’s just a prick. Won’t push over when you meet him on a narrow road. Can’t treat the older folks with any friendliness or respect. Can’t bring himself to act like the rest of us. Like we’re a community. He thinks he’s royalty. Really he’s just a shithead and I wasn’t at all surprised to hear that he’s involved with dogfighting. If he’s into the drug stuff, that is a little surprising. But not hugely.”

“I wonder if there’s another side to it all,” Kendra said.

I looked at her.

“Maybe he’s just putting on a show to cover his insecurities.”

“Don’t care if he is,” I said. “I still can’t stand him. And I’m not the only one. Plenty of people whisper about him. His father is moderately liked. But not Tommy. He’s the type of guy that you can tell just by looking at him that he’s a little prick.”

“I wasn’t defending him,” Kendra clarified.

I nodded.

“What did you tell me about
E.T
.?” Willie said.

I looked right at Kendra. “Get this. We watched that movie in third grade one day. It was the last day before spring vacation and the teachers were being cool. Guess what? Tommy was rooting for the government guys, not E.T. and Elliott. Just because he knew it would bother everyone. Just so he could take the fun out of it for the rest of us. Even the teachers knew he was doing it on purpose. But they all had to powder his ass to keep his daddy from complaining.”

“Sounds nice, right?” Willie said.

“What about his mother?” she said. “If he’s an only child, maybe she’s the one who spoiled him rotten.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “She keeps a lower profile.”

“Yeah,” Willie agreed. “You don’t see her around much.”

“Maybe he’s just one of those people,” Kendra said. “He’s full of misery inside. Doesn’t know why, so he has to make others miserable along with him.”

I said, “Asshole. That’s the simplest way to say it.”

Kendra sighed and said, “I just hope the jerk hasn’t hurt my Simon.”

It got very quiet.

“Wrong thing to say,” Kendra whispered.

“Yeah, let’s get going,” I said. “I might have to watch the place for hours before I can sneak over. Might as well get out there and see what I’m up against.”

I got up and went inside. Slid my vest over a long-sleeved shirt and packed spare magazines into the front pouches. Laced my boots tight. Got a black hat and black gloves. Got a bottle of iced tea and stuffed it into a cargo pocket on my thigh. I gave Frank a treat and shut him in the cabin. He wasn’t thrilled, but he didn’t complain much. Then I went out and we packed three-wide into Willie’s truck. Kendra was squished in the middle.

Willie chugged the truck quietly along the access road. Turned right onto the main road. Got it up to speed for nearly a minute and then slowed and turned left onto a side road. We moved down a gradual and winding grade into the darkness of thick woods. The pavement gave way to dirt. The hum of rubber on pavement was replaced by the louder crunching of tires on gravel.

“This is it,” Kendra said, breaking the heavy silence. “I remember this road.”

“Feels like the point of no return,” Willie said. “We’re in the tunnel now.”

“I’m scared but hopeful,” Kendra said.

I said nothing. I wasn’t scared. Wasn’t feeling terribly hopeful, either. All my thoughts were focusing on the task, the walk, the recovery. The likely confrontation.

“Now it’s hitting home,” Kendra said. “This is really happening. My heart is pounding.”

“Stay cool,” Willie said.

“I’m trying.”

“You good?”

“I think so.”

“You sure?”

“I’m good,” she said.

A minute or so later Willie slowed and turned right into the trailhead where we’d stashed the Escalade. The headlights made all sorts of strange patterns on the low-hanging branches. Green leaves looked almost yellow up close to the lights. The trail had two established wheel ruts. Just enough room for a pickup truck to squeeze between the trees. As pines took over the hardwoods, the ground became soft with pine needles and the only sound was that of the truck’s motor idling and the occasional branch rubbing along the truck’s panels.

We went on in silence. Kendra had no idea what to expect. But Willie and I were both watching for the Escalade to come into view.

It never did.

We reached the spot where it should have been and there was nothing. Just an empty space. Up ahead in the trail I could see an obvious disturbance in the carpet of pine needles leading off into the darkness. Willie stopped the truck. We sat there in silence for a long moment with the truck idling.

“You kept the keys, didn’t you?” Willie finally asked.

“Yeah,” I said, patting them in my pants pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Kendra asked.

“Evan stole the Bensons’ Escalade this morning,” Willie answered. “We stashed it out here.”

“Right here?”

He nodded.

“Crap,” Kendra said.

“Super crap,” Willie said.

I said, “Brady or his dad must have found it. No one else has the equipment to drag an SUV. No way could someone fit a big tow truck on this trail.”

Willie cut the motor and the headlights and we all climbed out. It was pitch dark and our eyes took a minute to focus. The woods were silent and still but for spring peepers and crickets and small noises. Musical silence. We could hardly see a single star through the dense treetops. Evergreens and spring leaves.

I lit a cigarette and leaned against the truck to think.

“What does this mean?” Kendra finally asked.

I said, “Hard telling not knowing.”

“They don’t know anything,” Willie said optimistically. “They just found an abandoned vehicle. We’re okay.”

“Tommy bought Simon from Jared Benson,” I said. “He knows what he drives.”

“They’re not the only ones with an Escalade.”

“No. But clearly they didn’t think it was a random vehicle.”

“Maybe we should call Uncle Danny,” Willie suggested. “We’re amateurs, after all.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why would Brady go through all that effort to move a vehicle? Why would he even be out here, a mile from his place? He couldn’t see the Escalade from the road in passing.”

“Guilty conscience,” Kendra suggested. “He’s fighting dogs.”

“Tommy doesn’t have a conscience,” Willie said. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you.”

I nodded. Then got out my phone and called Uncle Danny.