by Rachel Lee
“Naw, it’s more fun out here.” He winked at Sky.
She quickly reached for Craig’s shovel. “I’ll put these back.” The wink had probably been innocent, but after what she and Craig had just experienced, she didn’t want to flirt, even casually.
“No, I’ll do it,” Craig said. “I need to lock up. You go on in with Don.”
Exactly what she didn’t want to do, but given no option, she crossed the corral and led the way inside. Much to her relief, Don didn’t seem to want to go any further than that wink. He doffed his poncho, sat at the table with a mug of coffee and took a sip with a satisfied “Aah.”
“We’ve got some sweet rolls, too. Want one?”
“I’d love one. Somehow this turned into a long day.”
She tore the wrapper off the foil tray and put it on the table with a couple of paper plates. “You traded in Tragedy for the day?”
“I stabled him, more for my comfort than his.”
Sky laughed. “It’s a good day for that.”
“I thought so.” Don flashed a grin. Just then Craig came inside, stomping the mud off his boots before he crossed the threshold. Sky immediately poured him coffee and as soon as he dumped his rain gear, she handed it to him.
He sat with Don at the table, pushing wet hair back from his face. “What’s going on?”
“I was out at the overlook this morning.”
“Overlook Rock?”
“Well, of course.”
Craig snorted. “Like we don’t have a heap of scenic overlooks.”
“But only one we call the overlook,” Don retorted.
Sky sat, too, watching the men needle each other. Some parts of male interaction she would never understand, but whether she understood or not, she was familiar with it.
“So,” Don asked, “you estimate that Cap guy has two or three others with him?”
“That’s all I could see a few days ago.”
“Multiply it. While I was checking around this morning I got some good views of the Jackson property and the surrounding area. He may have only three or four of these guys working on that new structure of his, but there are more of them out in the woods.”
Sky felt her heart accelerate.
“How many?” Craig asked.
“I wish I could tell you. They’re ringing the place like a defensive perimeter and keeping an eye on the woods around.”
“What makes you sure they aren’t just hikers?”
Don nearly rolled his eyes. “Oh, I dunno. They all wear the same camouflage and they’re all carrying AR-15s? They look like a damn army. They fanned out for a while, then pulled back. Like they were checking to make sure nobody—namely us—was poking around anywhere near Buddy’s place. I wanted to think they were just playing games, but I kept remembering that hiker who turned up dead a month ago.”
“He was four miles from Buddy’s place. Anything could have happened, and we still don’t have a definitive cause of death.”
“I know.” Don sipped more coffee. “These guys were out a few miles from Buddy’s place. Just saying.”
Craig didn’t say anything immediately. Sky waited with an almost sickening sense of dread about where this might lead. The idea that Buddy might be building an army, even a small one, boded no good.
“They’ve got to do something wrong,” Craig said finally.
“I know. I get it.”
Sky spoke. “This hiker. How is it nobody is sure how he died?”
“The reality of a corpse left unburied in the woods. Between animals and decomposition, there wasn’t a whole lot left. We identified him because nothing dined on his driver’s license or credit cards.”
“It doesn’t take long,” Don agreed. “You know that’s one of the very real arguments about why we’ll never find Bigfoot remains.”
Sky did a double take. “Bigfoot? For real?”
Don laughed and Craig cracked a grin. “Rumors abound,” Craig said. “Always.”
Don kind of laughed. “Never seen one. But you know that’s what they say. If the remains are buried, they’d be nearly impossible to find. If they’re not buried, they’d be gone lickety-split.”
“All bases covered,” Sky said drily.
“You got it. Even bones don’t last long in the woods.”
“Scat,” Craig said. “We’d see scat.”
“Only if we know what we’re looking at and it hasn’t been buried.”
Craig arched his brow. “Are you buying this, Don?”
“Who, me? I’m just trying to lighten an otherwise depressing conversation. A hiker died, there’s good reason why it’s so hard to determine cause of death. However, I’m not ready to say four miles from Buddy’s place is too far. Not after what I saw today.”
“How many did you spot?”
“I counted five. I watched for about three hours.”
“Five.” Craig repeated the number, frowning thoughtfully. “And that was only what you could see from the overlook.”
“Exactamundo. Five. That side of Buddy’s place. If I hadn’t been so far above them, I wouldn’t have known it. As it was, they emerged into clearings just often enough for me to get what was going on. There might have been more.”
“Militia,” Craig said.
“That’s my guess. This isn’t the kind of thing Buddy used to do. He was just a squirrel gathering acorns against a winter that would probably never come. He always struck me as harmless.”
“Me, too.” Craig sipped coffee, then rubbed his chin. A moment later he tore off a piece of sweet roll and ate it. “I guess Lucy isn’t exactly amused by this.”
“Hell, no. The boss was in fine form. She was not happy about a bunch of guys patrolling our forest with AR-15s, legal or not. Her first thought was that some visitor could get hurt. Thank God we don’t have too many of them right now, but she’s going to steer them as far from Buddy as she can.”
“The ones who stop by the office, anyway.”
Silence fell as Don ate and got himself some more coffee. Sky sat wondering what anyone could do about any of this. If it wasn’t illegal for those guys to be out there, then...what?
“Anyway,” Don said, “Lucy wanted to be sure everyone was alerted. You know we’ve been moving as many guys as we can to this part of the park for a few days. Now she’s worried we might run into trouble.”
“Not if we’re careful. Imagine the flares they’d send up if something happened to one of us. Although, the more of us that are skulking in the trees around here, the more likely that gets.”
Don nodded and reached for more roll.
“About the valley river,” Craig said. “That’s been my excuse for wandering around the area.”
“Yeah, that’s what we’re all supposed to be checking out.”
“I can’t find anything on forestry land. That leaves Jackson’s place. He’s got one of the biggest of the feeder streams running through his acreage. If he were to divert a significant amount, we’d notice below.”
“It’s probably him,” Don agreed. “So tell me how we prove it.”
“I’m just thinking out loud,” Craig said. “Ordinarily I’d say there’s no reason for him to divert anything. He’s always had a few small ponds to carry him through a dry spell.”
“Unless he adds a bunch of people,” Sky added.
The two men exchanged looks.
“Quite a few people,” Don amended.
“So how many of these guys is he planning to bring out here?” Craig wondered out loud. “And more importantly, why? I guess I need to go have another talk with him.”
Sky’s heart slammed. “Not alone! Those creeps were following me in the woods. Don’t you dare go over there alone.”
“Following you?” Don looked worried. “Why in the hell? You’re just a painter. Are they that paranoid? Damn it, Craig, we’ve got to get to the bottom of this before something blows up that can’t be contained.”
“Parameters would be useful. Some idea of
what they’re up to would help. Playing soldiers in the woods isn’t illegal.”
“Damaging a national forest by diverting water is,” Don said.
“Prove it. That’s why I’m going to have to talk to him again.”
“Not alone,” Sky repeated.
He looked at her at last. “Not alone,” he agreed. “This time I think we might need to join up with our friend the sheriff.”
Relief washed through her. “Good,” she said firmly.
Don left a short while later, promising to get back to them after working things out with Lucy. Apparently they were now observing radio silence except for the most innocuous of things.
“It never,” Craig remarked, “used to drive me nuts to be out here without phone or internet. The radio was more than enough. Now I’d give my eyeteeth for an internet connection.”
“I can imagine.”
“I should probably take you to town, make sure you’re out of the line of fire.”
“We don’t even know that there’s a line of fire,” she argued. “What’s more, those creeps know all they want to know about me now. They went through my things. Nothing but painting supplies. No guns, no ammo, no fancy spy cameras. Just my digital SLR camera with a bunch of lenses and a handful of memory sticks. I’m no one and they know it.”
“So?”
“So I’m not going to be run off. I came here to paint, and as soon as the weather clears, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. We sure don’t want to do something that might alert them to the fact we know something is going on.”
“I doubt—”
“Hush,” she said firmly. “I’m not running, and I’m not leaving you out here alone. Period. I don’t care how much backup you have. I’d never forgive myself for hightailing it.”
He stared into those determined eyes of hers and realized he had a new team member whether he liked it or not. She had something riding on this, too, although he would have liked to know exactly what it was.
“What’s more,” she said, “I can keep an eye on things without being obvious as long as I have a canvas in front of me and a paintbrush in hand. I also want to take another walk to that gorge. It’s beautiful.”
Well, that was a confusing mix. He couldn’t decide if she was throwing all this out in the hopes that if she tossed enough, something would stick. In spite of himself, he laughed.
“How will going to some gorge keep an eye on Buddy?” he asked. “Do you have a line of sight?”
“Well, I’ll find out if they’re patrolling this side of the valley regularly. And if they are, I’ll keep at least one of them preoccupied.”
Still he hesitated. While he had no proof that this could turn dangerous, he had an ugly suspicion it might do exactly that. Men patrolling the woods with AR-15s were dangerous if only because they might use those weapons carelessly. One itchy finger was all it would take.
Every protective instinct he owned wanted her out of here. But when he took a mental step back, he realized that even if he dragged her to town, she was determined enough to just get in her car and come right back out here.
“Look,” she said, “your people are going to be concerned with what’s going on over at Jackson’s. I can keep an eye out over here. If they’re spreading out this far routinely, that’s more information to evaluate.”
At last something that made actual sense to him other than apparent stubbornness. Okay, then. At least she’d be on this side of the valley, probably safe from most of it.
Except that his skin crawled a little when he remembered she had been followed in the woods yesterday. He couldn’t imagine why they would take that much interest in her.
“Sky?”
She raised questioning eyes.
“I can’t help it. I’m worried that you were followed yesterday. It doesn’t make sense.”
“They just wanted to know what I was really doing. They found out. The guy must have been bored to tears. Anyway, now they know. I admit I was angry and a little disturbed at the time, but I’m not anymore. I pose absolutely no threat to them.”
“At this point I’m beginning to wonder exactly what they think is a threat.”
“Bigfoot?” she suggested.
She made him laugh again. One thing that was missing from his usually solitary existence, he realized, was laughter, and it felt so good to laugh now.
The radio crackled again, breaking the mood, and he went to answer it. It was Lucy.
“You know those guys we talked about hiring on for that special job? They’re being hired. Expect the first of them to be there to help you in a day or two. In the meantime, enjoy your day off. In fact, take another. You’ll have plenty to do once the new crew arrives. Out.”
He stood staring at the radio. Sky went to join him, all of three steps. “Was that as cryptic as it sounded?”
He put the radio down. “Well, we weren’t planning to hire anyone.”
“So what does she mean?”
“I think she or the sheriff is bringing in some outside help on the Buddy thing. My guess is ATF.”
“Well, it’s about time.”
“Maybe so. I wonder what lit the fuse.”
“Don seeing those guys patrolling, probably.” She perched on the bench and put her chin in her hand. “That and the Cap guy’s background. His being here means something, and from looking at that information this morning, my guess is it doesn’t mean anything good.”
He crossed to her, squeezed her shoulder, then sat facing her. “It bothers me, too. For what it’s worth, I’m not sure Buddy is in charge anymore. I know that guy. This is not the kind of thing he’d come up with on his own. He was always harmless before.”
“So you said, but he’s not looking exactly harmless right now. So maybe it is Cap’s influence. Or maybe Buddy took a liking to the guy and now he has a tiger by the tail. Maybe it’s even changed his thinking about all of this doomsday stuff. We’d have to be mind readers to know.”
“I’d love to get a look at that new building of his.”
“Don’t even think about it. You’ve got help coming with all the surveillance aids you lack.”
“I know, I know. I’m law enforcement, but not at their level.”
“By design.” She reached across the table, and after a moment he took her hand. She could easily imagine the struggle he was having. He was a former marine. Action was his forte. Finding himself limited by the parameters of his current job, by the equipment he lacked, had to be galling. He wanted to deal with this, not turn it over to someone else. She could understand that. If she didn’t, she’d be packing and heading for town.
You didn’t walk away from a fight or a problem, at least not of this type, not when innocent peoples’ lives potentially could be at risk.
“That was interesting about the hiker,” she said suddenly.
“The rapid decomp?”
“Yeah. And the resultant difficulty in figuring out cause of death. I’m not used to thinking in those terms.”
“Few people are,” he answered.
“I know, but that’s not the point. The point is, if someone does know that, they could use it to their advantage.”
It seemed to her he sat a little straighter. Then he swore. Evidently he’d just made the same connection.
“How long,” she asked, “has that Cap guy been there?”
“I don’t know. I usually leave Buddy to his own devices. I may stop by a handful of times during the year just to be neighborly.”
He rubbed his free hand across his chin and mouth, making a small, frustrated sound. Then he swore again. “Maybe we need the big guns after all.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? ATF comes, does their surveillance, maybe even finds an excuse to question, then leaves. That’s the worst. If there’s nothing wrong over there, it’s over.”
“Unless they miss something. Then every ranger in this forest could become a target.”
“That’s not likely,” she argued. �
��You said it yourself. If something happens to one of you, this place would be crawling with federal law enforcement. No, they’re not going to touch you, much as they might want to.”
But hanging on the air was the unspoken unless they could make it look like the hiker...cause unknown.
The shiver that ran down her spine felt glacial in its iciness.
She rose from the bench and went to look out the window at the weeping day. There was no sign the weather might change anytime soon. The sense of being watched hit her again, causing the hair on the back of neck to rise.
“Craig?”
“Yeah?”
She pointed to the window. “Those shutters outside. Do they close?”
“That’s how we shut the place up for the winter.”
“Let’s close them now. I’m getting that feeling again.”
He didn’t answer immediately.
“Well?” she said finally.
“The question is whether it’s more important to see out than to not be seen.”
She didn’t answer because it was a good question. “I need the facilities.”
“I’ll go with you.”
He stood and went to don his gun belt. Then he picked up his Mossberg. She understood perfectly.
* * *
After Craig escorted her back to the cabin, he insisted she remain inside. “I want to do a little casual scouting, and it won’t look at all casual if we both do it.”
That was enough to salve her pride, apparently. He wandered the small clearing, shotgun slung casually over his forearm as if he weren’t expecting to use it, but the strap was firmly settled on his shoulder to give him support if he had to use it fast.
Here and there he stepped a ways into the woods, checking the ground. The nice thing about all this rain was that it would be virtually impossible for anyone to move around in here without leaving tracks. Despite excellent mountain drainage, the earth had become mud. Not even the carpeting pine needles could conceal a footprint now.
If Sky had felt watched while standing at the window, he had no doubt someone or something was watching. The most inerrant of human senses, he had learned to trust it a very long time ago. Somehow, some way, people knew when they were being watched, whether by an animal or another person. The sense usually got tamped down because most people lived in situations where others would look at them often, but it got finely honed in places the military took a person. Finely honed. And when you came back from combat, it wasn’t easy to tamp it down again.