“No, Tank. I’ll be fine,” Becca said. “But I think I need to go. I’m going to go for a hike. Clear my head.”
Chapter 10
Someone was following her.
As she jogged up the winding hill, enjoying the crisp, clean air and the sound of trees swaying in the wind, Becca felt it. A shiver ran up her spine like a squirrel darting up a tree. She fought to ignore the fear. Surrendering to the panic wouldn’t do her any good. Plus, it might offer a sign to her stalker that they’d been detected.
When she slowed down at a switchback marked with an old, faded wooden sign, Becca took the risk of looking back. She’d selected a trail known for its isolation and rough terrain. Part of that had been because she needed the surge of endorphins, the giddiness that could only come from sustained physical exertion. Becca had always enjoyed the outdoors, ever since she’d been a little girl growing up in the northernmost reaches of Maine. But, in the back of her mind, Becca had fostered an acute awareness of the rising threat to her safety.
Sometimes killers didn’t want their deeds uncovered.
Not seeing anyone immediately behind her on the root-infested dirt trail, Becca continued on. She slowed down her pace, however, unable to shake the unnerving feeling that someone was watching her. Having been tracked by various predators before, she had some inkling of what if felt like when a bobcat or lynx trailed you. And the sensation she had, of being watched, possessed an intrinsically different quality.
However, as she progressed, not encountering another human soul, Becca began to wonder if her overactive imagination had begun playing tricks on her. She slowed down even further, breathing heavily as her eyes darted furtively left and then right, seeking any hint of her stalker’s presence. On one side, the forest rose in a precipitous incline, thick Douglas fir trees interspersed with thinner lodgepole pine resting a few feet apart on the edge of the hill. Numerous logs of varying size had fallen, threatening to slide down the declivity at any moment. Inspecting their ominous spikes and tenuous grip on the earth, she questioned her sanity. I drove over an hour to get here, she thought.
A sudden burst of sound scared her. Shrieking, Becca instinctively raised one hand to her mouth as she swirled around, searching for the source of the intrusive noise. She smiled and patted her chest, however, when it hit her that it had just been a woodpecker. “Gah,” she exclaimed.
But Becca still couldn’t shake the idea of being followed. Doubting that anyone would be dumb- or brave- enough to use the high ground, she peeked over the edge of the other side. Noting the precipitous drop, she took a moment to appreciate the crystal-clear waters of the river below. From her vantage point, she could still see the white, foaming anger of the swift-moving body of water. Disturbed by the nagging sense of unease, Becca nonetheless told herself to get a grip and move on. The entire point of retreating into the forest had been to find a sense of peace that would enable her to continue on in her unlikely mission. Allowing a silly bout of paranoia to intrude on that would only jeopardize her efforts. She was pursuing a cold, calculating murderer. Becca needed to remember that.
It was only as she glanced up at the cerulean sky above that she discovered it.
The source of that foreboding feeling.
Shielding her face from the harsh and intrusive rays of the sun with one hand, Becca stood, rigid, staring up at the odd black speck hovering in the sky. The device teetered in the air as it remained just above the canopy. It obviously was a drone. At first, she was more overcome with curiosity, wondering just how it had come to pass that someone had actually gotten the thing up there. Becca wasn’t an expert on technology by any stretch of the imagination, but she didn’t think it was customary for flying cameras to be that high up. She estimated that some of the firs had to be at least forty-fifty feet tall.
As she wondered about the logistics of stalking someone by technological proxy, the drone’s operator apparently became aware that they’d been spotted. The device slowly began moving away. It made a distinct buzzing sound that could be heard, even a hundred-plus feet below.
Watching the drone that had been monitoring her activities, Becca felt an obscene sense of violation that struck at her core. Experiencing a wave of nausea, she went over to the edge of the trail and wretched. Warm, acrid bile rose in her throat. Tears stung her eyes. As she slumped to the uneven dirt below, Becca closed her eyes. Clenching her fists so hard that she dug her jagged, chewed-up fingernails into the tender flesh of her palm, she raised her hands and shook them in the air. She unleashed a furious scream. It contained a primal fear and anger.
Stranded way out in the middle of the Deschutes National Forest, stuck on a remote trail with a stalker somewhere close by, she felt an urgent sense of her vulnerability. Her chest tightening, her blood pressure rising, she fought to breathe. Becca knew she needed to calm down. Panic threatened to exacerbate the situation. But, for the life of her, she didn’t know how.
Slowly, she stood. Fighting to clear out the cacophonous clamoring in her mind, Becca focused on retracing her steps back down the trail. She kept her eyes on the ground, trying to make sure she didn’t stumble on one of the thick tree roots in the brown dirt. As she walked, she felt herself relaxing. It became easier to follow her thoughts.
As she walked down the path, Becca began to wonder about the safety of her car. Parked on a gravelly logging access road at the trailhead, it was open to anyone who happened to pass by. Far out in the wilderness, the vehicle provided an easy target for criminals. Such as her inadvertent traveling companion. Shivering at the thought of being stranded out there, she nonetheless resisted the idea of remaining isolated, despite the threat. It wasn’t the best thing, retreating back to her station wagon. But it was her only viable option.
Pulling her cellphone out more for confirmation that she did, indeed, have only one option for evacuating the area, Becca sighed when she saw that she didn’t have a signal. She’d figured as much, however.
Continuing to walk, Becca surveyed the area around her. She searched for any potential hiding spots. Acutely aware of the potentially prying presence that continued to linger out there, she saw danger behind every log and shadow. The secrets of the forest suddenly took on a sinister overtone as the breeze whispered and the trees quietly conspired. A squirrel heckled her in the distance. An osprey circled high overhead, waiting to feast on her corpse. Her heart raced as she continued on, fear dominating her every move.
Finally, overcome by fatigue, she relented and decided to sit down again. Becca needed a break. She needed to regain her senses and composure. If her stalker wanted her dead, he’d just have to take his chances as she rested. Licking her lips, she raised her chin and allowed the slight breeze to cool her sweat-soaked skin. She focused on her breathing, filtering out the negative energy as she did so. Slowly, she allowed herself to return to the matter at hand. Someone was following her. She felt reasonably confident about that. It seemed too conveniently coincidental for a random travel blogger to have placed a drone right above her right then. And it seemed equally dubious that such a person would have called their device in at the exact moment she noticed it.
“Could be against the park rules, though,” Becca said out loud. She didn’t feel foolish talking to herself there in the dense forest. However, she did think she might be trying to rationalize her fears away. “Would they really just flee like that, though? Just because I noticed them? It’s not like I can call anyone. I guess, unless maybe they thought I was a park ranger or whatever,” she said.
Thirst reared its ugly head, reminding her once again of just how far out from civilization she was. “Gah!” she said. Getting up, she brushed the dirt and debris off of her backside. She stretched, loosening up and preparing herself for the trek back to her car. Becca didn’t want to think of what might happen if her humble station wagon weren’t there. Instead, she focused on her immediate needs. Her parched throat would serve as inspiration to propel her forward.
This time,
Becca maintained a brisk, steady pace. She resisted the urge to look around. If someone was out there, imbued with menacing intent, they’d just have to either jump out and attack her or wait for another opportunity. Trotting along, a smile formed on her face. The euphoric surge that could only come from exercise filled her with a measure of relief. Freed from the terror that had gripped her guts, she moved at an even faster clip toward the trailhead.
However, as she slowed down to take a steep switchback, Becca stumbled on a rock jutting up out of the trail. At the same time, she heard a noise. Panic once again rising in her veins, Becca jumped up, ignoring the pain that drove a tour bus right into the brick wall of her mind. Eyes darting back and forth, she searched for the source of the noise. It took her a second to realize that she’d heard a dog barking.
Surrendering once again to the abject terror, Becca clambered up the hill, not bothering to care about how steep or dangerous it was. Crouching down, she hid as best she could behind a large tree trunk, peering out from behind its cover, trying to see what perils would befall her next.
She exhaled heavily, however, when she was confronted not with a vision of a cloaked assassin but a thin, nerdy young man wearing glasses with what appeared to be his Hispanic girlfriend and their absolutely adorable fluffy white dog. A massive creature with a long, dark-colored tongue, it possessed an oddly smushed face and rounded ears. Its bushy tail wagged aggressively as it moved ahead of its two companions, sniffing at everything. The canine twirled around in a comic display, hopping and barking at nothing. Then it promptly took a leak on a nearby tree.
Covering her mouth tightly with one hand, Becca resisted the urge to laugh. The scene was so anticlimactic and non-threatening that she felt foolish for having hastily retreated up a hill.
Waiting several minutes after they had left, Becca finally decided it was safe and vacated her hiding spot. Brushing herself off as she slowly stumbled down the hill, she reflected on the day’s events. Life is strange, she thought. Shaking her head, she reoriented herself and began down the trail. As she walked, she glanced up. Noticing that the sun had adjusted its position in the sky, she realized that the day was waning. “Not much time left,” she said to herself as she moved along the path.
As the isolation and gentle sound of birds bickering and flirting helped calm her, Becca found herself able to focus again. Keeping one eye on the ground in front of her to catch any errant roots or other impediments, she tried to think of who it could have been that was following her. Was it the killer? The idea sent shivers down her spine. However, since she still wasn’t convinced that the murderer and her employer weren’t one and the same, Becca found herself in a quandary. “Bit of a pickle,” she said. She was beginning to breathe harder as the hill took on an incline, and the words came out in an almost-gasp.
Stopping abruptly, Becca found a small rock resting near the edge of the trail. It had been conveniently placed there for the view. A gap in the trees afforded an unobstructed view of miles of rolling forest. The crisp, cool air danced around her head as she stared. Brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, she lost herself in the beautiful, idyllic scenery. The elegant emerald spires reaching out in supplication to the majestic sun. The retinue of wise white clouds lingering in the royal court of the orange orb. It all offered a welcome refuge from her worries. Which was why she’d sought the trail out in the first place.
However, knowing that she needed to bail out and start tending to her busy life, Becca soon pulled herself away. In the process of doing so, an idea struck her. She’d always tended to think better while being active and away from people. Which was another reason for coming out to the woods. Becca had wanted to escape the noise. Realizing that Mario could have been the one stalking her, Becca knew she had to confront him. That provided evidence of guilt. It revealed quite a bit about the man, if, indeed, he were the one behind the drone. Just HOW she went about accosting the man would be the important factor. And her subconscious had done its magic and given her just the trick.
Snapping her fingers and adopting a sinister smile, Becca turned her face toward the warmth of the sun. She felt proud of herself. She wasn’t necessarily the devious sort. But she’d managed to find a way to embrace her cunning side as the need arose. “Thanks,” she muttered. Then she resumed her march back to her station wagon in earnest.
Becca wasn’t going to go at Mario directly. That would be too damaging. But she had a way to divine his knowledge without him even suspecting he was under suspicion.
Chapter 11
As soon as she’d reached the edge of civilization and gotten a cell signal, Becca decided to get gas. Her tank was below half, anyway. And her habit had always been to never allow her tank to reach empty. A dilapidated sign attached to a rusty metal pole leaned out from the side of the one-lane road, notifying travelers that a filling station was just one mile up.
Pulling into the disheveled little station, she had to angle her car in just the right way in order to reach the single pump. A thin man with cold brown eyes wearing a dirty green hat and chewing on a golden piece of straw stood in the narrow doorway of the wooden shack that served as his office. A sign above him announced that forest passes and bait were sold inside. Sauntering over to Becca’s vehicle, he readied himself to pump her gas.
“Fill it up, please,” Becca said, rolling down her window. She tried to smile, despite the uneasy feeling she got in the presence of such a man. She hated reacted like that. It was an instinctive thing. Nonetheless, something about the guy just gave her the creeps. The thought that he could have been the culprit behind her recent scare flitted across her mind.
“Don’t take card, ma’am. Cash?” he asked, revealing broken teeth in the process.
Heart skipping a beat, Becca wrestled with the litter in her car in search of her wallet. Making a small hmmph of victory when she finally extracted it from a pile, she unzipped it and found, to her relief, that she did, indeed, have money. “I don’t usually carry cash. Thankfully I have some,” she said, smiling.
The man nodded and began pumping.
As he stood there, Becca gathered the gumption to ask him a few questions. “Are drones common around here? They allowed in the park?” she asked, deciding to go straight for it. She resisted the urge to blush. If he were, indeed, the stalker, it probably would have been better to not have directly let on that she knew. But, with the discovery of the corpse in her bathroom, Becca had discovered she’d become less tolerant of B.S. She didn’t have time to waste. After all, her daughter helped remind her every day that she wasn’t getting any younger. With that, the business, and her newfound sense of mortality, Becca was all out of hoots to give.
The guy blinked. Pausing, he shifted his lips and glanced up at the sky, as if wondering what secrets could be held in its celestial depths. After a moment’s hesitation, however, he returned his attention back to Becca. “Some of them farmers use ‘em. Reckon it helps ‘em keep up with their herd, whatnot,” he said. A greasy white tag loosely affixed to his stained blue shirt indicated the man was named Jeff. Somehow, that seemed appropriate. “Can’t say I’m fully up-to-date on them regs over there at the forest, whatnot. But I can tell you I ain’t never heard no one say nothin’ ‘bout drones up there. Be a first, lemme tell ya,” he said.
Checking the display after he’d finished filling her tank, Jeff informed her of her bill. He counted the change out loud as he fumbled with a wad of greasy bills from the back pocket of his stained jeans.
Forcing herself not to make a moue of disgust when she gingerly took the proffered bills, Becca tried to appraise the man. Jeff seemed harmless enough. Certainly hard-working. Deciding that he shouldn’t be included on the shortlist of possible stalking suspects, Becca elected to pull over. That is, if the shack had any type of food. “You have anything to eat in there? Besides worms? That and water?” she asked, licking her lips and suddenly remembering how thirsty she’d been.
“Sure do, ma’am. We gots chips
and candy bars. ‘Fraid ain’t much else. Not really the type of place fer all the fixins, if ya know what I mean. But if you take a cotton to honey, I do have some local stuff. Even got a little bit of the huckleberry left. My sister, she lives out on the coast, Curry County. I think I might have a few o’ her pies and some berries in the freezer, too. We ain’t much fer berries out here, so thems usually gets snapped up quick. But my kids really like ‘em, you know. So, I usually try to save a few bags around here, just in case,” Jeff said.
“Thanks. I’ll just pull over and then come on in. Would you mind bringing me a water? If it’s not too much trouble. Uh, here’s five bucks from what you just gave me. You can just keep the change for the hassle,” Becca said.
“Sure thing, ma’am. I’ll have that right out fer ya in a jiffy, I will,” Jeff said.
Retreating to a partly shaded corner of the dirt parking lot, if one could call it that, Becca pulled out her phone. She sighed when she unlocked the screen. Of course, she had a dozen texts. Bracing herself for some mild panic from Denise, she was surprised when she saw that most of the messages had come from Tank. Calling him, she began to worry. Her thoughts trampled each other as they rushed toward the exit. He wasn’t the sort to be given to excess, so if he’d tried to get a hold of her more than once, it must be serious.
The fact that he didn’t answer immediately only exacerbated her tension. Thinking the worst, Becca began wondering if the drone had been a decoy. Some way to try to divert her attention from the real plot. As she imagined the dead body in her bathroom for the thousandth time, Becca felt her chest tighten.
She jumped when someone knocked on her window.
Realizing that it was just Jeff with the requested water, Becca rolled down her window, blushing. She held one hand to her chest, feeling her pulse racing. “I’m sorry,” she said.
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