“Yes, yes…that is exactly what I thought. Now, look to the very far top right-hand corner of the picture, where the trees begin.”
After a moment Alan said, “A man on a horse? I can see his shadow better than I can see him.”
“Exactly, exactly,” Craig said, sounding excited. “Now, go to the second photo and look at those same areas.
Alan could see a saddled horse in front of the cabin and then noticed that the leg was gone. It was no longer sticking from the porch. Craig slipped a third photo in front of Alan before he could say anything. This one was the worst angle of the three but he could clearly see that now the dead horse was also gone and so was the saddled horse that had been tied up to the porch.
“That photo is from the second flyover. Here….” Craig said, sliding two more photos toward him. “See the smoke on this one?”
He did see it. Something just in the edge of the woods to the north was on fire. He wondered why he didn’t notice the fire during the flyover, but shrugged it off. The wind had been blowing hard and would probably have dispersed the smoke into the atmosphere.
“Now, look at this one. This is the one I am most concerned with.”
While they flew over the area, Alan had explained that the cabin belonged to the Svensons, who had just built it and took a long lease on the land. Alan said that he considered Steven and Jenny to be good friends, people he had known since he was in High School when he was interested in flying and was trying to get odd jobs at the airfield.
Alan held the magnifying glass over the photo. It took him only moments to see what Craig had obviously wanted him to see; a man on a horse behind the stables, dragging a bundle toward the trees. Alan’s blood went cold and goose bumps broke out on his neck. It looked like the thing being dragged was a body…a human body. He set the magnifying glass down.
“You saw it? You think it was a body, don’t you?”
Alan said nothing, but picked up the magnifying glass to look again.
The photo clearly showed a rope tied around what had to be a human leg. The leg was hiked awkwardly skyward as the horse and rider pulled the body. The worst part was that the body looked like it was mutilated, like the chest and abdomen were somehow opened up. The dark splotches had to be blood.
“Yes, I do.” He said, breathlessly. “I think it really is a body and it looks all torn up, too.”
“What do we do now?” asked Craig.
“We tell someone...the authorities. They’ve got to get up there and check this out.”
“Good,” Craig said. “That is why I wanted you to come. I wanted someone who knows this land and knows the people to be there with me when I show these. You would be a great help, Alan. Will you come?”
“Of course,” Alan said, feeling a little nauseated. “They would ask me to come in and answer questions, anyway, I suppose. More than that, though...I want to know if the Svensons are okay. I sure hope that wasn’t one of them in that photo...the body or the one doing the dragging.”
“So, you can’t tell exactly who that was…I mean…if it was a body,” Craig asked.
Alan thought for a moment. “Oh it is a body, Mr. Craig and unfortunately I might end up knowing knowing exactly who it is…but I don’t care to take a guess. The folks who run this place are my friends.” Before he realized it, however, Alan heard himself saying, “It might be Kyle…a guy who works for Steven …or it could be one of the Svensons’ clients. It might even be Steven. I don’t know…” his voice trailed off. He could not believe what he was saying. He hoped that the man on the horse had a good explanation for what he was doing. Maybe he was moving the body to protect it…but that didn’t make any sense. Anyone with half a brain would know not to move a body, regardless of the situation. I wonder if he was going to burn that body?
“Well, I guess we’d better get going, then,” Craig said. “I’ll grab the photos.”
“Sure,” Alan said in a daze, getting up and heading for the door. “I’ll just meet you outside.”
Inside the Bronco Alan sat, different scenarios flashing through his mind. No matter how many ways he created the scene, the movement of the body really bothered him. No...it was the unceremonious way the rider was moving it...dragging it through the snow and dirt behind a horse. That was wrong. Maybe the rider murdered him. “Stop it,” He said aloud. There hadn’t been a murder up here in his lifetime—probably his dad’s lifetime, too. Wait…dad was on duty last night at the airfield and on the radio. His father would have known if someone radioed anything unusual from that cabin. The Svensons had a base station at the cabin. It might be that someone had radioed all this in and Alan had not heard the scuttlebutt just yet. He sighed. It was unlikely. He had seen several friends at Enoch’s and none of them mentioned anything…and the crowd there would have any news before most people in town.
Alan jumped, startled at the sound of the passenger door opening.
“Sorry,” Craig said.
“No problem,” Alan answered He turned on the windshield wipers to shove half an inch of snow off of the windshield. “Here we go…”
The three officers on shift at the headquarters of Hope’s Royal Mounted Canadian Police stared down at the photos on the counter. The town had just over five thousand people listed as citizens, and they had nine RCMP officers in all and were due to receive four more. There was one Constable, Constable O’Brien, who sat in a nearby office looking out at the group as the three corporals stared at the photographs. The corporals looked puzzled, as if deciding whether or not the photos were even worth the effort but the constable strode over and picked up the magnifying glass, gently shoving corporal Jeanice aside. After a minute he looked hard at Alan and Craig and said the photos should be moved to his office and should not be displayed here at the front entrance. Constable O’Brien looked at least sixty years old and was pudgy but not fat, and had a look about him that suggested he had been rode hard and put up wet.
“Look here, constable,” Craig said after they settled into the constable’s office. Craig was pointing to the ‘before and after’ photos of the leg. He then pointed to the photo of what looked like a body being pulled by a man on a horse.
“Well, now…” the constable began, “It surely could be a leg...or it might just be a boot and a trick of the light, but I think that photo isn’t one I’d be concerned with.” He tapped one of the photos with the edge of Craig’s magnifying glass. “Now this one...this one might just be a body…”
“Might be?” Alan sputtered, “Pardon me, constable, but I think that…”
“Yes, yes. You have already told me what you think.”
“But, these are friends of mine…friends of just about everyone,” Alan began, and then closed his mouth when he met the constable’s steely gaze.
“Okay then, gentlemen. Thank you for bringing me the photos. I will keep them and we will handle this from here. I ask that you please not mention this to anyone else. This is a small town and it would not take much to raise a panic or get a whole lot of people headed out to that cabin to see what’s what.”
“You are going to go out there, aren’t you?” Craig asked.
“Look outside, Mr…”
“Craig….”
“Right…look outside. Do you see that snowstorm? You two will be lucky to get back to the hotel in your vehicle. I certainly cannot fly out to that cabin in any sort of weather like this…or take a boat…there is ice on the lake, you know…”
“But…constable…there is something else,” Alan said. “There is no sign of the Svenson’s helicopter, either, and I’ve heard that he has a hunt scheduled. The helicopter would be right there.” He put his finger on a photo that displayed the empty landing pad. Alan wasn’t absolutely positive that the helicopter should have been there this morning but it made sense, so he went with it.
“I will check with the airfield and see if I can narrow down the whereabouts of the Svensons and their helicopter, of course...but this is a police matter, now,
gentlemen. Please see corporal Jeanice on the way out. He will need your information. I am sure I will need to contact you fairly soon.”
Alan felt that he could not leave with things as they were. “What if there are wounded people up there?” he asked, trying not to convey his building anger. “What if others who might be heading to the cabin right now, say, oh, I don’t know—the Svenson family...what if they are in danger?”
At that, the constable stood up, meeting Alan’s gaze. “Son, I have been in law enforcement for going on forty years. I have investigated every type of crime and misinterpreted circumstance that there is. Now...I understand that whoever might be, and I say again, might be in that photo being dragged has friends and loved ones. I get it, Mr. Tucker. But I will not explain the actions that this office may or may not take...to you.” The man’s face was red. “Now, leave us to do our jobs, please, so that we can protect and serve the people of Hope in the way that is best, rather than in the way that you want.”
He sat back down. “Oh...and I will require the rest of these photos along with any negatives that are in your possession, Mr. Craig. I’ll send corporal Ducheyne to retrieve them from your hotel.”
Craig nodded, “Of...of course, constable.”
Alan thought of protesting again, just to be argumentative, but decided against it.
Back in the Bronco Craig said, “He doesn’t seem too concerned...not to mention that he is a real asshole.”
“No, he doesn’t seem concerned,” Alan replied. “But I am. Others will be, too. My plane can land on the lake with no problem and I am tempted to fly up there myself as soon as there is a break in the weather. Old constable numb nuts will probably analyze the photos for days before going up there to check it out.”
“You really thinking of going? Don’t you think it might be dangerous?”
“Steven would do it for any of us. Something is obviously very wrong out there and I know for a fact that Steven has a group of hunters up north on the new lease. If he knew anything was wrong back at the camp, he’d be there in a heartbeat.”
“How do you know he wasn’t…well…maybe the man on the horse?”
“Two reasons. One, Steven would never do anything like that. Two, his helicopter is not at the camp. If he were there, so the helicopter would, too.”
“I don’t know, Alan. Police where I come from have some stiff penalties for interference. Besides, maybe he really will get out there quickly.”
“Let me tell you what I know about our good constable,” Alan said. “Who, by the way, has only been with us for about six months. Word is that he was kicked off of an important team in Victoria and as punishment he was exiled here. So, how much do you think he cares about us? He’s probably about to retire and he probably wants to do as little work as possible until he gets his pension.” Alan leaned forward instinctively, trying to see through the falling snow as he drove slowly back to Craig’s hotel.
“I want to go.”
“What?” Alan asked. “Are you serious? Mr. Craig, look…I haven’t said for sure I am going and if I did, well, like you said…interference and all.”
“I can help with evidence. I can take photos that we can bring back to the constable.” He paused and waited but Alan ignored the idea. “Okay...then how about you take me up for another flyover, and maybe we just happen to have to land at the cabin to check on the engine or something?”
Alan pulled in front of the hotel and parked. He rubbed his chin. “That isn’t such a bad idea. I mean...if I had some engine trouble and was forced to land there...” He paused, “Before I do anything, I need to check with my dad and find out if he heard anything over the radio at the airfield.”
Craig nodded.
“Tell you what—I’ll drive out to his place…and then I’ll call you, after. Even if I decide to go, we have to wait for this to die down well enough to fly...and that might be a while.”
“I’ll go in and give the corporal the rest of the photos and get something to eat and wait for you to call.” Craig smiled and stuck out his hand.
Alan shook the hand and saw the absolute glee in Craig’s eyes…as if he were one of the Hardy boys about to crack a new case. Alan was having second thoughts about his going along…but Craig was right. A professional photographer would come in handy.
“Don’t be disappointed if I decide not to go at all…and please don’t tell anyone,” Alan said.
Craig nodded his head enthusiastically and hopped out of the Bronco. Alan drove toward his parent’s home…not wasting time to try to call. He knew they wouldn’t answer.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“That hermit guy’s cabin is a lot closer than the lake.” Delmar said.
Thomas thought about that for a minute. “But don’t you think that if he had a radio he would have heard our calls? I mean…that’s too close not to have heard. Besides, if our radio isn’t picking up a signal from here…well his cabin isn’t much closer.”
“We don’t have a base station. According to Steven’s notes on the map, this man does. And, you are assuming that the guy sits around with the radio on. He probably only turns the thing on when he has too. From what we’ve heard he only comes into town a couple times a year. Fuel for a generator is probably hard to get up here, so he conserves it—and if he’s using batteries then you know he wouldn’t keep it on.”
Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know. We know that we’ll be able to get a message out from Steven’s cabin.”
“Kyle can’t answer us and that is as likely because of a busted radio as it is anything else.” He opened his hands in a pleading gesture. “We’d spend two days getting to the lake but we can reach this guy’s cabin in maybe ten hours or so. We’d be at his cabin by daylight.”
“What if he is not there? What then?”
“We go inside and use his radio, anyway…and then hot-foot it back to the helicopter. If rescue comes for them while we are gone, we still call in for a pickup from his cabin.”
Thomas sighed. “Or we stay here and help keep Steven comfortable and keep us all in one place...all together.” Thomas said.
“We have no reason to wait. Jenny said herself that if Kyle had contacted the airfield we’d be boarding air rescue right now. Something is just wrong at Steven’s cabin. If we wait, we take a bigger risk….and that is bad for Steven.”
“Don’t go there,” Thomas said. “I think this has as much to do with your restlessness and your constant need to be right in the middle of the fray as it does anything else. Don’t kid yourself that this is all about Steven.”
Delmar threw his hands up. “Then forget it. You stay here and I will go.”
“What is going on with you, Delmar? You’re the one who always preached that playing by the rules and doing the smart thing was the way to accomplish the mission. This leaves a whole lot to chance...so, what’s going on?” Thomas stared at his friend.
“I just don’t want to wait for days and days. Come on...you and I have crossed country worse than this…hell…in our sleep this would be easy. You know we can do it, and we can do it quick.”
Thomas didn’t answer. He was unsure if he understood all of his friend’s motives. The smart thing might very well be to head for Jeremiah’s cabin but Delmar seemed to have discarded all other possibilities.
Thomas stood his ground. “I’m missing something here. You need to tell me what it is.”
Delmar shook his head. “It’s just what I think is right. We need to get out sooner than later.”
“Nah...I don’t believe you. Not this time. I think there’s something else going on. I don’t know what it is but I know something is going on inside that massive head of yours.” He shook his head. “Nope.”
Delmar sighed.
“That’s it,” Thomas said, “I’m out. And if you are crazy enough to go on your own, then you go ahead…but don’t act like you’ve been straight with me.” He turned back to the helicopter.
“Wait,” Delmar said.
/> Thomas stopped and turned and raised his hands in a questioning gesture.
“I’ll tell you about it on the way. It is something I didn’t want you guys to know. Not yet, anyway.”
Thomas did not like his friend’s tone. Something about it worried him.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe it will when you hear it…just not before we are on the way.”
Thomas walked over and looked down at the map. “You plot the route to Jeremiah’s cabin and then from there to the lake in case we need to go there, too. Then you lay it all out for Daniel. If someone comes, he will need to be able to tell them exactly where we went, so estimate the distance and time and write down where you think we will be at two hour intervals.”
“Got it,” Delmar said.
“If we get to this guy’s cabin and no one is there and there’s not a working radio, we have wasted a lot of time.”
“Daniel can ask air rescue to do a flyover from here to the cabin if they come while we’re gone.”
“Daniel is going to be pissed,” Thomas said.
“He’ll see the light.”
“As soon as we hit the wood line, you are going to start telling me just what the hell is up with you. Got it? That’s the deal.”
“Absolutely, hero, and you know what? This will be just like that time at Dahlonega, when we had to move twelve clicks through the night in that snowstorm…only this time it will be fun.”
Thomas looked up at the approaching clouds. “I am sure it will be a blast.”
Thomas checked Steven again and was worried to see that his breathing seemed even shallower. His pupils still failed to react. Thomas felt that Steven might be in a coma, but he was not sure enough to say that to Jenny.
Daniel was indeed, pissed, but he knew there was no need for further discussion. All he could do now was hope that Thomas and Delmar came through.
Two hours later, Thomas and Delmar stood outside the helicopter, snowflakes gently falling around them. Both men had backpacks on their shoulders, filled with just enough gear and food to get by for two days. Delmar left his rifle with Daniel—“just in case,” he had said to his friend as he handed it over. Thomas shouldered his bolt action 30.06. He had attached the scope to the rifle’s over-and-under scope mounts, which would allow him to use the ordinary iron sites for anything up close. He also carried a starlight, night vision rifle scope and a set of old, military-grade night vision goggles. Delmar and Daniel both had pairs of the same model, ‘confiscated’ from their units during out-processing.
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