Lethally Logged

by Amber Boffin

  “What are you doing back there? Push! Do I have to do all myself!”

  “But sir, maybe if you got off—”

  The sergeant swung his short leg back and nearly tripped over the log as he stepped down. He threw his cap off, revealing a tanned, shiny scalp. He put his hands on his hips. “What did you think I was doing?”

  Raj bit his lip to suppress the urge to laugh. If it had happened with anyone else, they would both be laughing their heads off. It hadn’t.

  “Get up, will you?” The sergeant pointed to the right. “You should have seen there was another route. Why would I’ve asked you to look out for the way otherwise?”

  The desire to laugh vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He knew better than to attempt to argue with the sergeant. It was best to move on fast. He didn’t bother brushing any leaves away from his uniform. He headed straight to the quad and tried to lift its back end over the log.

  “You need to do some more training. I’ll put you forward for the next one planned,” Sergeant Humphries said from the other side of the vehicle.

  Who’s talking? Raj thought angrily. He kept pushing, but the bark of the tree trunk had somehow gotten wedged into the chassis.

  “Sir, we have to lift it up together. It’s stuck.”

  The sergeant put his cap back on, having inspected the undercarriage himself. They lifted, pushed, and pulled till the quad was finally freed and back on the track, ready to take them to the camp. Noises of chainsaws and big machinery alerted them to their proximity to their destination.

  They popped out into a graveyard of trees and came face-to-face with a huge harvester vehicle busy grappling a large tree that was tilting dangerously toward them.

  “Sir, watch o—”

  Chapter Six

  Raj jumped off the quad, grabbing the sergeant by his sweater. They both looked up at the tree trunk swinging above them for a few seconds before it was positioned far away from them. Neither Raj nor Sergeant Humphries moved until the sound of the engine of the harvester ceased.

  “Are yous all right?” A bearded man stretched out his hand to the sergeant, bending over the pair. “You scared the hell out of me. What were yous thinking of? You didn’t hear my machine? You could have been killed!”

  Sergeant Humphries rolled onto his knees, hoisting himself up with a hand on the untouched quad. From Raj’s vantage point, still lying low, Humphries’s trimmed moustache looked pricklier than ever. Had he changed his trimming? Raj was quickly shaken back to reality by the sergeant tugging on his sleeve.

  “Constable, get up. You’re lucky we didn’t get hurt.”

  The man’s eyes moved from the sergeant’s to Raj’s in bewilderment.

  “We’re looking for two men on a quad who rode this path.” The sergeant pointed to the path they had just followed.

  The man shook his head.

  A little voice in Raj’s head made him open his note pad to check the description of the men Maggie had seen on the quad. The bearded one was wearing the same checkered flannel shirt as this man.

  “You must have seen them, like you just saw us.” Sergeant Humphries’s voice rose.

  “As you saw for yourself, I’m focused on the trees. They could have gone behind me without me noticing.” The man looked away.

  Raj tried to show the description on his notebook to the sergeant. “Sir.”

  “What is it?” asked Sergeant Humphries.

  Both men were now looking at Raj, waiting for him to speak.

  “Strange, the description of the shirt worn by the driver of the quad exactly matches yours.”

  The man looked at his shirt. “Everyone and his dog wears these.”

  Sergeant Humphries took the notebook from Raj’s hands and read aloud. “Top right shoulder, seam torn.”

  They all stared at the gaping hole in the garment in front of their eyes.

  “So? I’ve had to keep an eye out for those hikers. They keep getting lost, they say.”

  Sergeant Humphries snapped the notepad closed. “Lost?” He pulled his pants up and rested his arms across his belly in silence. He had an irritating habit of using silence as a weapon to get information out of someone. This time he had picked the wrong person.

  The man’s knuckles were white from the force of his clenched fist. He nodded without a word. The silence was too heavy for Raj to bear any longer. “We know that you alerted the air ambulance crew, Andy Smith.”

  Sergeant Humphries stared at Raj. He hadn’t told the sergeant he received the information when they were back at the cabin.

  “Oh, no, that’s not me. Nothing to do with me. I didn’t alert no one.” He stepped back with his palms facing them, shaking his head. “Not my business.”

  Sergeant Humphries had found the use of his tongue again. “What is your name? Why were you at the trapper’s cabin if it wasn’t your business?”

  The man rolled up one of his sleeves, revealing a muscular forearm covered in branch scratches. A voice from the other side of the tree harvester reached them. “James, anything wrong?”

  “Yes!” bellowed back Sergeant Humphries, “James here is obstructing a police investigation.”

  James shouted back. “Nah, I’m just doin’ my job. You deal with them, you’re the boss.” He turned his back and walked to his machine.

  Why was he being so obstructive? Had he given a fake name when he called? Sergeant Humphries took off after him, climbing over the felled trees, swearing each time his pants got hooked on their branches. Raj followed, quickly overtaking him, hoping to reach the men first. He succeeded.

  “Look, guys, we don’t want to make your life difficult, we just need some information to understand what happened back there.” Raj waved in the direction he had come from. “A man died, and someone here gave the alert. An Andy Smith.”

  “Who’s died? Where?” asked a short man, a drip at the end of his turned-up nose.

  “A tourist at the trapper’s cabin, you know?” Raj said. “We’re searching for another person who might have fled in search of help. We have to talk to this Andy Smith.”

  The man seemed to be in charge, given his straight stance, matter-of-fact tone, and critical look directed at James when he spoke. “We do have an Andy Smith. He’s on your crew, James.”

  James rolled his eyes.

  Raj could see the sparks flying between the two men. They clearly weren’t buddies. Sergeant Humphries reached the group. His face lit up. “Good to see you, sir. What are you doing up here, not your district, I thought?”

  The short man’s face melted into a broad smile as he wiped the tip of his nose with the back of his sleeve and put his hand out. “Hi, Sergeant. I’m heading this operation for now. No longer a cop, unlike you, from the looks of it—still a sergeant and in Foxton.”

  He touched Sergeant Humphries’s stripes with a finger, a familiarity Raj had never seen toward the sergeant. He expected him to react defensively, but instead Sergeant Humphries said, “Yes, I like it here. I refused a promotion to stay here.”

  Raj observed the man. Had he been a cop? He looked more like the informant type. He appeared to be in his late thirties, the type who would cuddle up to the boss without any scruples toward his colleagues, if it meant he would benefit from it. Raj had encountered a number of men like that in the police force. He mistrusted him. If asked why, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint anything; it was just a gut feeling.

  Without introducing himself to Raj, the man waved with authority to Sergeant Humphries to come with him. “I’ll get this Andy for you. Terrible business.”

  Sergeant Humphries turned to Raj. “Constable, ask around if they’ve seen the dead man and any other information you can get.”

  The two figures disappeared behind a tree, leaving Raj behind with a silent James. They looked at each other.

  “Look, you’d better tell me your version of what happened. The sergeant will have his very soon. What’s your full name?”

  “James Kravets, with a K.�
�

  Raj pulled out his phone to show him a picture of the dead man. “You’ve seen this man before?”

  James’s face flinched. “Might’ve.” He looked down at his boots. “But it’s hard to tell.”

  “Here is another picture, of his jacket. Maybe that helps?”

  “Looks like them tourists that were lost. They were here a few days ago.”

  “More than one?”

  James looked around him as if he were checking whether anyone was listening. “A woman was with him. But I was in my machine, just heard after that they were looking for a haunted cabin.”

  “A woman, you say? Can you describe her?”

  James narrowed his fiery fox’s eyes. “Nice gal…” His smile dropped. “But I didn’t see much from up here.” He pointed to the cabin of the harvester, sitting high above its tracks.

  “Who spoke to them?”

  “You saw him jus’ now.” It was only now that Raj noticed his underbite, hidden in his beard, as he moved his chin back and forth as if he were grinding his teeth. “I’ve got work to do.”

  Raj couldn’t fathom tourists getting so lost that they ended up all the way here. Unless they were guided by the machine noises. He took note of James’s details and warned him he would be back with more questions. Only when he reached the loggers’ tents did he realize that he had failed to press him on why he drove to the cabin. In the distance, a man with a blond mullet was speaking to Sergeant Humphries.

  *

  Back at the cabin, the ongoing search with a reinforced team of police officers had so far been fruitless. The detective sergeant leading the group complained to Sergeant Humphries and Raj over the radio that they had left a mess of footprints and scents in the cabin, making it very hard to find any lead scent to search for. The dogs were left with following any human scent they came across in the hope it would lead to the right person.

  One of the dogs had guided his officer straight to Ted’s place, just as Adam and Maggie were about to leave to hike to their next camping spot before dark. Maggie watched in dismay the white jaws racing toward them. She was only a little reassured by the sight of what the dog was flying as a kite: a police woman, leaping behind her dog. They both landed at their feet.

  The detective had tripped over a branch and would have been dragged on her belly by the Malinois shepherd to Ted had she not let go of the lead. She got to her feet and whistled. The dog didn’t listen, which was unusual for a police dog, and instead leaped at Ted’s arm, his glistering fangs out. Adam grabbed the dog by the skin of the back of his neck and with a twist of his hand immobilized him. “Sit.”

  The dog sat obediently next to Adam, now and then uncovering his perfect set of chops any time Ted moved. Maggie had taken cover behind Adam as soon as she caught sight of the dog. She was still shaking and kept her hands tucked deep in her pockets, away from its mouth.

  Ted was next to her, livid. “Now you know why I don’t like them cops.”

  Ignoring his comment, Adam yanked Ted’s bear coat off his shoulders with one hand while Ted dug his dirty nails into the black fur in a tug-of-war.

  “Let go, Ted.” Without explaining, Adam threw the skin a few meters away.

  The dog twisted his neck in its direction and remained transfixed by it until his mistress took hold of the lead. The dog resembled the discarded bear fur as he lay as flat as a pancake, ears back and with only his eyes moving from the skin to his mistress.

  “So sorry, is it a bearskin?”

  Adam nodded.

  Between breaths she said, “He picked up the scent back at the cabin. After that I could barely keep up with him.”

  “Really? How fresh does a scent need to be for him to pick it up?” Adam asked with a side glance at Ted.

  “Well, it depends. Usually not more than twenty-four hours after—”

  One of Adam’s eyebrows arched up as he stared at Ted. Maggie had been the recipient of such a look when he knew the answer but wanted her to give it.

  Ted asked, “Even for a very smelly bear fur? I’m aware I don’t smell of roses…”

  His mispronunciation of the letter V due to missing two upper incisors caused the police officer to hesitate before replying, “Funny you say that, because he’s really exceptional in that he’s been able to follow a scent that was over six months old, and in the woods, like here. For the other dogs after twenty-four hours it can be difficult.”

  Ted straightened up, a corner of his mouth lifting. “This time of year, lots of black bears roam around the cabin because of the food left behind by the tourists. I saw one just before you arrived, smelling just like my skin.”

  “Yes, that explains it. He picked the scent of the real bear, and then he saw you with the bearskin.” The officer shook her head with a smile. She coughed one more time and took a deep breath. “I’ll get back on track, slowly this time. I hope. I apologize for the attack. He didn’t nip you at all?”

  “I’m fine, don’t worry. If we see anything suspect, I know who to ask.” Ted grinned at her and glanced defiantly at Adam with his good eye.

  Once she had left, Adam stood face-to-face with Ted, his lips tightly pressed together. “You saw a bear. Really? Show me the tracks then.”

  “Pff. I could have, I saw one at the trapper’s cabin this mo…” Ted didn’t finish his sentence. He tapped his arms with his hands as if he were attempting to warm himself up. Adam put his hands on his hips, his native necklace popping out from his shirt. His face contradicted his posture. His wrinkles were etched deeper but lined up with the upward curl of his thin mouth.

  Maggie had remained silent, observing their interaction. There was so much nonverbal communication going on that it was as if she were watching a live pantomime. She had so many questions bubbling up that she said, “I saw bear paws there too.”

  “You’d better keep your food safe up a tree tonight, if you’re still going up there?” Ted pointed north.

  “Ted, one way or another, I’ll find out. Tell me now what you saw. It’s the only way I might be able to help you. ’Cause if you wait, it’s not one dog you’ll see, but the entire pack of search dogs.”

  Ted shrugged his right shoulder in Maggie’s direction.

  “You can trust her.” Adam sat down on a large rock at the entrance of Ted’s home. “So, what happened? Don’t spare the details.”

  Ted let himself slide into an old rocking chair. “I did go, like I said, a few days ago to check on the place.” He shook his head. “He accused me of a bad job maintaining the chimney. He couldn’t get his fire going. I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. But really, he’d stuffed the stove with wet wood. I could have walked away, but no, I got the fire going.”

  “Did he tell you anything?”

  “Nah. You know me. Don’t talk.”

  “He didn’t ask you anything at all?” Maggie asked, finding it very odd at first that someone wouldn’t be a bit curious about Ted. Perhaps he had been just too intimidated by Ted to dare to ask anything. She felt shy herself; his body language gave off the signal to keep away.

  She was already regretting her question when Ted looked at her. “Nothing important.” He rolled his good eye up to the sky. “He asked about ghosts banging on the roof at night.”

  “Ghosts?” Maggie asked.

  “They’re around, I told him…”

  “Don’t tell me you believe that this place is haunted by the Métis trapper?”

  Ted tilted his head sideways. “Spirits. You know. As long as he stays away from my home, I say.” He smacked his lips.

  “I did read an article in the Daily Stumble about that,” Maggie said. “But surely there must be a good explanation with all the animals roaming around?”

  Ted grinned at her. “Tell me, what animal would bang on a roof?”

  Maggie thought for a moment, but nothing came to mind. People heard all kinds of things at night when they weren’t used to nature sounds.

  Adam fidgeted with his bag as if he w
anted to move on and preferred to avoid ghost discussions. She had noticed before that when she tried to talk about the subject, he had always diverted the conversation to another topic. Was it because he believed in them? Why else couldn’t she have a rational discussion about it?

  Adam narrowed his eyes till they were just two slits disappearing in his weathered face. “Did you see anyone else with him?” Ted shook his head. “What about this morning? Why did you go there?” Adam tapped his arched fingers together.

  “I wanted to check he hadn’t burned the place down.” Ted sighed. “I thought he’d gone. The big stone to hold the door shut was in front of the door, and the latch.”

  “Ted, Ted, Ted…you tell me that now.” Adam clenched his fist.

  “What difference does it make? He’s dead. And who do you think the police will pin this on!” Ted turned red in the face as he poked repeatedly at his own chest with his finger. “You see, that’s what I get when I talk.” He zipped his lips closed with his right fingers.

  Maggie intervened, hoping to calm the two men and get as much information out of Ted as possible. “I guess what’s relevant isn’t who found him but rather what you saw when you found him, same as for us. Did you go in the cabin?”

  “How else would I see a dead man,” Ted replied with clenched jaws. “I touched nothing and ran away. I don’t want to anger them ghosts, oh no.” He stood up, as if he wanted to shake the thought away with a shrug. “You won’t see me there again. I’m done with it.”

  Adam rose to his feet and kicked his bag with his boot. “Enough with your bloody ghosts.” He rubbed the back of his neck, taking his leather hat off. When he put it back on, he said, “You have to tell the police…” He stared at Ted, who was avoiding his eyes. “Or else I will.” His voice softened. “It’s best if you do, if you see what I mean. You’re clean, so what’s there to fear?”

  Ted put his arms up to the sky without a word, ostensibly asking for help.