Tall Pines Mysteries: A Mystery/Suspense Boxed Set

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  Bronson nodded. “Be careful who you call. They’ve got taps everywhere.” He pulled out a small notebook and scribbled a number on a small piece of paper. “This is foolproof. Don’t call anybody else.”

  The gravity of the situation struck me and sapped all energy I’d fooled myself into thinking I had. I felt my knees wobble, and I swayed.

  Callie picked up on it first and grabbed my arm. “Marcie? You okay?” She hobbled beside me to a big boulder and sat me down. “Put your head down. Breathe deeply.”

  I followed her instructions, feeling like the world had just tipped upside down. When had my agoraphobic friend switched roles with me? “Just a tad dizzy. I’ll be fine.”

  Bronson offered the backpack to Sky, who slung it onto his shoulder. Green and Gere gave us solemn nods, and the three men turned back toward the smoke still rising from our downed helicopter.

  Sky pulled out an ace bandage from the first aid kit and tenderly wrapped Callie’s ankle while we sat side by side on the boulder. She wiggled it, winced a little, and said it felt better. In hindsight, I wished I’d thought to mention the oils that I carried on my back, but my brain wasn’t cooperating. With the wrap supporting her ankle and a stout branch that functioned as a walking stick, she was able to manage to walk. We followed Sky’s broad back into the dense woods.

  Chapter 41

  Rather than wringing every last speck of energy from my poor battered body, the hike up the mountain proved invigorating. With heart pumping, I kept telling myself this was just another lovely summer day in the Adirondack Mountains. Yeah. I could almost believe it. Here I was, just hiking with my pals and a big, wonderful dog. And somewhere near the top, a pristine lake glistened like a prize at the end of the trail. Callie managed to struggle along, and occasionally Sky carried her on his back. I stayed at her side most of the time, supporting her free arm.

  I tried not to think of Quinn, who must be worrying his heart to shreds, or my poor mother, who I hadn’t called in days. I also tried not to think about poor Green, Bronson, and “Gere” (whose real name I never asked for), and hoped they weren’t sprawled at the bottom of the hill next to the burned out helicopter.

  In the first fifteen minutes of our climb, there had been gunfire. Lots of gunfire. It had sliced the air when it started, loud and steady, until toward the end, the spurts of shooting had lessened, slowly. Finally, it had stopped.

  Sky had turned to look, his face grim. And it was at that point that he’d hurried us up the mountain. “Faster,” he said. He took Callie onto his back again, and looked back frequently, probably to check on my progress and make sure I wasn’t straggling behind. I was afraid he was also expecting company. And not the nice type of please-have-a-seat-and-try-my-teacakes company.

  We’d been climbing for an hour when three helicopters began to circle above us.

  Sky motioned toward a thick copse of trees. “Down, now.” We scuttled after him, bunching up together under the trees. He pulled out some kind of electronic device, switched it on so a little green light blinked rhythmically, and placed it carefully on a log beside us.

  “On the ground. Hurry.”

  We threw ourselves to the ground face down, with Beau wiggling beside us as if it were a fun romp in the woods. Sky scooped dead leaves over our bodies and heads, until I felt like I was eight years old again playing hide ‘n seek in my father’s freshly raked pile of leaves. He pressed beside me and pulled leaves over himself, as well. The three of us lay still while the copters circled. I breathed in shallow, fetid smells of woodland decay, trying to propel myself out of the insane nightmare and back into my own bed at home. I pictured my husband snoring beside me, morning sun streaming in our bedroom window. It almost worked.

  Callie gripped my hand, her eyes closed. Sky pressed on my other side, tense and alert, his weapon at his side. I felt his sides moving as he breathed.

  His whisper barely moved the air around us. “Don’t move a muscle.”

  Beau flopped on Callie’s other side, lapping her face. I chanced a glance at her, and marveled at the strength she’d shown today. Not once had she cowered in fear at the wide-open spaces, dropped to the ground with hands over her face, or run for the nearest cave.

  Had she actually beaten the agoraphobia? Had her love for Sky and excitement at having him back in her life dwarfed the feelings of fear? Or had she simply bottled up her deep dark fears, knowing our survival was on the line? I wanted to talk to her about it, but it would have to wait.

  We lay still for a good ten minutes. The damn choppers didn’t give up. I watched Sky’s funny little gizmo and wondered if somehow it counteracted those heat-seeking devices they used from above. At one point a chipmunk ran across the woods in front of us, probably only three feet away from my nose. He stopped, rose on his hind feet, rubbed his tiny hands together, stared at me as if I were some bizarre woodland fairy, then scampered off.

  When I thought I’d die from constricted muscles and the need to stretch, move, or at least roll onto my back, the sound of the copters’ whirring blades faded.

  Sky touched my hand. “It’s okay, now. We can get up.”

  After spitting leaves and brushing them out of my hair like they were entangled bats’ wings, I held out my hand to Callie, who hadn’t yet moved. She rose slowly, as if shaking off a dream. With dazed eyes, she looked from Sky to me and back again, and started to tremble. “Sky. Marcie. I…” The color had drained from her face, and for the first time since I’d found her, in the white light of late morning, I studied the bruises on her temple and neck. A ring of dark blue smudges circled the pale skin on her throat. A thought slammed into my head. Someone tried to strangle her.

  I gently touched the bruise, with feather soft fingertips. “What happened, Callie?”

  She looked at me with wide, haunted eyes. “I don’t know. I…I got away.”

  It wasn’t the answer I’d expected, but the story was clear. One of the brutes had tried to hurt her. I imagined she’d fought back, maybe even hurt them. And they’d tried to kill her. But somehow, some way, my dear little friend had found a weak spot on her assailant. Maybe she’d bitten him. Maybe she’d kicked him where it counts. Whatever she’d done, they’d stopped throttling her and let her live.

  I put my arms around her, hugging her gently. Surprising me, Sky did the same, except I was in the equation, too. Smack dab in the middle of it. He stood beside me, his muscular arms circling us both. His strong male scent reminded me, again, of our past. For one brief moment, I flashed back to Honeoye Lake, to the summers where we’d lay on the dock together at midnight, all three of us holding hands and watching the stars.

  Callie’s shivering subsided, but something inside me knew she hadn’t yet had time to react to the trauma of the past week, and that somewhere, somehow, a big blow was coming.

  Instead, she turned her face up to us, touching both our faces with her trembling hands. “I love you guys.”

  Sky leaned down to kiss her forehead, and I brushed my lips against her cheek. “We love you, too, honey.”

  Sky embraced her again and looked toward the darkening sky. “We’ve got to get to the top, a storm’s coming.”

  I followed his line of sight. In the distance, black clouds rumbled and rolled down from the north hills. A chill crept into the air. I pulled my jacket closer around my chest and repositioned the backpack. “Crap. I didn’t bring any rain gear. Everything else. Food. Water purification tablets. Extra clothes. All the oils I could fit—”

  Sky took my arm, his eyes feverishly bright. “You brought my oils?”

  He looked so ecstatic; I couldn’t tell him that I’d been thinking of them as mine for the past few days. “Yep. Got most of them in the backpack.”

  “Thank God.” His words came out almost as a moan, as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune. “Can I see them for a minute?”

  I watched as he sorted through the bottles as if saying hello to old friends. He set them upon a nearby rock and asked
Callie to sit beside him. I watched while he layered lavender and Melrose oils over Callie’s cuts and bruises. He unwrapped her leg, slathered it with the blue-labeled Panaway, and wrapped it up again. “This’ll take down the swelling and treat the pain. Dr. Young came up with this oil blend after he suffered a tremendous leg injury. They thought he’d never walk again, but he showed them they were wrong. This stuff took away the pain and helped him heal.”

  I watched, fascinated. “It has some kind of mint in it, doesn’t it?”

  Sky nodded. “Wintergreen and peppermint. It also has cloves, which will help numb the pain, and helichrysum, which works like a topical analgesic.”

  After he’d tended to Callie, he rubbed drops of frankincense on the back of his neck, temples, palms, and chest. He dropped peppermint on the back of his hand, and licked it like a puppy. The fresh smell of mint surrounded us.

  I really needed to brush my teeth, so I copied him, and was subsequently shocked at the intensity of the peppermint on my tongue. “Better than those dissolving plastic minty strips.” I loosed a hollow laugh, then fished out the Valor and offered it to him, palm up. “I forgot. I had this in my pocket the whole time.”

  His eyes lit up. “We’ll need this today.” He unscrewed the cap and inhaled deeply. “God, that’s good. I’ve missed it so much.” He dropped it onto his palms, rubbed them slowly together, and applied it to the back of his neck.

  Without hesitating, Callie and I shrugged, smiled, and copied him. I wondered if the strength of the Valor had helped Callie face her fears. She’d behaved far stronger than I had imagined was possible. The tangy, woodsy scent of the oil blend filled me with hope.

  When Sky had repacked the oils, the first drops of rain started.

  He picked up the pilot’s bag and started up the trail toward the lake with long, steady strides. Callie and Beau followed Sky, and I hefted the backpack to my shoulders and took up the rear, glancing back every so often to be sure we weren’t followed.

  After fifteen minutes of light rain, the terrain leveled out. My stomach growled ferociously and for the first time all morning, I couldn’t stop thinking of the granola bars, apples, and juice packs I’d stowed in my pack. At the time, I’d realized I was overdoing it. I always over-packed and the dang thing had been heavy, biting into my shoulders for the past hour. But now, a sense of vindication floated over me like sweet victory. For once, my packrat nature might have actually done some good, maybe tremendous good. It might even keep us alive.

  When the lake finally came into view, we approached its shore. Gray waves chopped along the stony beach. The rain came steadily now, and it was then I realized my boots were soaked. I looked at my drowned rat friends and down at my own prune-wrinkled fingers. How had it happened so quickly? I felt like I’d been swimming in the lake with my clothes on—for hours—and wondered if I could take one more squishy step forward.

  Sky pulled his hood lower over his forehead, shifted his pack, and pointed into the distance. “We have to follow the lake shore trail just a bit farther. There’s a place we can take cover up there.”

  I shivered. “You sure, Sky? It looks pretty desolate up here.”

  His eyes suddenly filled with empathy, probably because I looked so pathetic. “I’m sure. I stayed there this week. It’s dry and safe. Come on.”

  I’m still not sure how I made my heavy feet move the last half-mile. We stayed under cover, following a trail that hugged close to the shore. At last, Sky put a hand to my chest to stop me. I’d been slogging forward with my head down and hadn’t realized he’d stopped.

  “We’re here.”

  I looked around and saw nothing but the gray slate bank of a hillside and the never ending scene of trees and more trees. Like soldiers in a row, they grew straight and tall, covering the landscape with welcome shelter. But nowhere did I see a little shack or even a tent.

  “Come on.” Sky hurried, his back illuminated by flashes of lightning.

  We ducked behind a thicket of bushes and it was at that point that I stopped dead. “No way. No damned way.”

  Sky disappeared into the black entrance of a cave.

  Chapter 42

  I stood rooted to the spot. Not a cave. Please. Not a damp, dark, horrible hole in the wall.

  Callie took my arm and tried to drag me forward. “You’re soaked, Marcie. Come on. It can’t be that bad.”

  Beau whined beside us, as if trying to tell me it was okay. His huge, wet tail wagged, spraying more rain onto my legs.

  I resisted, my lips compressed into a stubborn line. “I can’t. It’ll be small. And dark. And there might be bears or mountain lions in there. Or worse. Bats.”

  Callie gently tugged me forward, pointing to the opening. “Look. Sky’s got a light on in there. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  It wasn’t until the sound of copters approaching once again that I willed my leaden legs to stiffly move forward. One step at a time. One. Two. Three. Duck. Straighten. Open clenched eyes.

  The fire Sky had already started glowed warm and welcoming. To my relief, the cavern stretched high above our heads. A tin coffee pot hung over a cross stick suspended on two branches cut to Y shapes. Blankets lay on the ground near the stone fire. Surprisingly, smoke from the fire spiraled up and away. I expected it to sit low in the air, choking us, but it didn’t. A pile of dry logs and twigs lay to the side of the circular stone pit. A few latched metal boxes of supplies sat against the wall. My stomach growled again, and I hoped they contained food. “Where did all this stuff come from?”

  Sky loosed a smile. “I camp here a lot.”

  My legs loosened up, and I scooted forward next to Callie. Beau sniffed the blankets and boxes of food. I began to shiver, hard. Callie put her arm around me. “We’ve got to get out of these wet clothes.” She ripped off her jacket and looked at my pack. “What did you bring?”

  I leaned down to unzip the pack. “I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking of anything waterproof. But I brought a few pairs of sweats, some shorts, and some tees. Plus a couple of hoodies.”

  Callie nodded. “Perfect.”

  Sky pointed to the boxes. “I’ve got extra clothes in there. Plus rations. We’ll be fine.”

  Callie held up a blanket for me to change behind, and I did the same for her. Sky changed a few feet away with his back to us and his bronze body glistening in the firelight. I turned away. I didn’t want to remember any more. It was pointless, anyway. I loved Quinn and the memories only served to frustrate me. Ridiculous.

  When we’d all changed, I went through my backpack to lay out the contents. Beau’s ears perked up, and I realized we’d have to find something to feed him, too. I sorted through the apples, granola bars, hard cheese, dried cranberries, and six juice boxes. Sky pulled out cans of spam, ravioli, spaghetti, and soup. He’d also stocked coffee, sardines, crackers, tuna, cookies, and three gallons of spring water.

  I looked through the supplies and smiled. “Wow. You didn’t get all this up here when you had to escape MedicuRX, did you? This is too much stuff for a fast getaway. You’d need a mule to carry it all.”

  He smiled and shrugged. “I come here all the time and use a Gator to bring up the supplies. There’s another path that’s more visible from the air,” he pointed to the right, “over there. The one I brought you up on today is the alternate. Not so well known.” He turned to look out the gray opening. “It’s a gorgeous view when it’s clear. And the swimming is perfect. I just brought up a few extra things last week when I went on the run. But most of it was already here. The matches. Dry wood. Blankets. Most of the food.”

  I pictured him all alone, sleeping on the hard floor on blankets. And he did it for fun?

  Had he been up here the last time we shopped at Charlie Johns? He’d probably been collecting weeds from the lakes, or working in that lab. It was strange to picture him so close, and so cloaked in secrecy when Callie and I agonized over whether he was dead or alive.

  Callie picked up a frying pan
and the can of spam. “This is gonna taste so good. I’m all for fried spam. And are those baked beans, Sky?”

  He laughed. “You sure you want to have them? We’ll be sleeping in pretty close quarters if the agents don’t get up here by nightfall.”

  I chuckled. “Can’t be much worse than our bedroom after Quinn has my mother’s home baked beans.” I found a sharp knife in one of the boxes and began to slice up apples and cheese. I placed them on squares of paper towels, and gave a few slices of cheddar to Beau.

  Callie opened the tuna and mixed it with crackers. She set it on the floor on a paper plate for her pal. He wolfed it in minutes, and looked up for more. She found an empty plastic jug, cut along the top with the sharp knife I’d been using, and fashioned a water dish out of it. She added some water from another jug and set it on the floor beside Beau. He lapped at it for a long time, and then settled at her feet.

  She found a comfortable spot beside her dog, set her feet up on the stones around the fire, and watched the spam sizzle in the fry pan. “Sky?”

  Earlier, he’d rubbed lemon oil over his face and hands to remove the black stuff. He finally looked human again. He stirred the fire and turned his gaze to her, smiling. “Yeah?”

  “Do you think those agents from the helicopter made it?”

  His smile disappeared. After a few moments of tense silence, he took her hand and answered softly. “I honestly don’t know. It’s possible, though.”

  His words sounded hollow. He didn’t believe it, and neither did I.

  She pushed him. “Wouldn’t they have come up here by now to help us, if they were okay?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe not. They might have thought they’d be followed. That they’d lead the killers to us.”

  I stood up suddenly. “Wait a minute, we didn’t make that phone call yet.” I walked to Sky’s wet jacket and rummaged in the pockets. “Where’s the phone number?”

  He frowned. “I think it’s in my jeans pocket. Let me get it.”