by BJ Bourg
When Abel learned the news, he went out and sold all of his dad’s farming equipment and that carried him through most of the year, but here he was, broke and behind. He didn’t know how he was going to keep the land he’d grown up on and he was beginning to realize he’d never have his own school. He had two siblings—a brother and a sister—but they weren’t interested in helping out. They had moved away when they were younger and had families of their own. They said they couldn’t afford to help save the land.
“But if you sell it,” his brother had said, “I want my half of the inheritance.”
“You don’t get half—only a third,” Abel had retorted, and that was the last time they spoke.
The door to Charmaine’s opened and Abel looked up, hoping for potential customers. His heart fluttered when he saw Dawn Luke and her dad walk through the door. They were both dressed for climbing and she was looking so beautiful. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail—it was longer than the last time he’d seen her—and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. He smiled his approval. He used to love how she never covered up her natural beauty with all of that garbage. She wore loose-fitting climbing pants and a tight long-sleeved shirt that accentuated all of her curves. Her dad was wearing loose pants and an old T-shirt, and he looked much older than Abel would’ve thought. My old man looks better than you…and he’s dead.
Abel’s instinct was to rush over and ask Dawn how she was doing, but the memory of the last time he tried to talk to her turned his mood sour. He had been drinking that night and didn’t remember much about the incident, except that he woke up in a jail cell with a splitting headache and when he returned to Charmaine’s the next day, Charmaine kicked him out. He was barred for six months for what she called “cowardly and despicable stalkish behavior from a sorry excuse for a man.” She said the only reason the ban wasn’t for life was because Dawn kicked his ass and dropped the charges.
Dawn glanced in his direction and—a surge of hope overcoming him—he straightened in his chair and smiled, but she turned casually away, as though he were completely invisible. He clenched his fist as he drank the last of his orange soda with the opposite hand. That bitch thinks she’s so much better than me because she left the mountains and got a “real” job, he thought. But I’ll show her when I make it big. She’ll be begging me to take her back and I’ll tell her where she can go.
CHAPTER 12
Abel jerked his head around when the door opened again, but he relaxed when a man in dark sunglasses, jeans, a tight button-up shirt, and cowboy boots walk through the door. Another damn tourist who can’t appreciate this place, he thought.
The man stood inside the doorway for a minute and looked around for a few seconds. He was tall and lanky, but he looked ox-strong. He finally removed his sunglasses and approached the counter, where Dawn was ordering lunch for herself and her dad. The man stared up at the menu while Dawn gave her order to Phoebe Sizemore, who was Charmaine’s head waitress. While she had never given Abel the time of day back in school, she was more than willing to let him feel her up after a few beers. Hell, she’d let anyone feel her up after a few beers, but he didn’t like to admit that out loud. He wanted to believe he could have Phoebe all to himself if he wanted. Sure, she wasn’t as hot as she was in high school, but she still looked better than most of the women who came through this place.
“Where are you climbing?” Phoebe asked Dawn as she rang up the order.
“We’re heading up to Dead Man’s Canyon for the night,” Dawn said. “I haven’t climbed that place since high school.”
“Well, it’s still there.”
“Is it still a closely guarded secret, or has it been overrun with tourists?”
“Watch it—you’re a tourist now, too, you know.” Phoebe laughed. “But yeah, we get would-be climbers in here all the time trying to find it, but they never do. Someone put up a sign to the access road once, but some locals tore it down quick.”
Abel resisted the urge to join in on the conversation and tell Dawn how someone had also placed the coordinates on a website a few years back. Luckily, it wasn’t a popular website and the few people who showed up here trying to find it got turned around by some local climbers. Eventually, someone updated the website to say the coordinates were unreliable, and their secret was once again safe. It was the kind of spot that the locals reserved for themselves—one of the very few—for fear that it would become overrun by thrill seekers and amateurs who would only get in the way of the serious climbers.
“Are you still belaying her, Mr. Evan?” Phoebe asked, putting a hand on her hip and giving him a little wink. “I remember you doing that for her through grade school and high school.”
The old man seemed to blush at the wink and he stuttered a bit when he answered, telling her that he would belay Dawn as long as he was strong enough to save her. “If ever I get too weak to put the brakes on for her, I’ll hang it up, but I’d never trust anyone else with her life.”
Phoebe reached across the counter and squeezed his right arm, letting out a playful giggle. “You feel plenty strong enough for me.”
Abel grunted to himself. She’d probably let that old bastard feel her up, too, he thought.
“Stop flirting with my dad and help your next customer,” Dawn said, moving away from the counter with her ticket and taking a seat at the table nearest the door.
Abel kept watching her, hoping she would meet his eyes, but she never looked back in his direction.
“What’s good here?” asked the mystery man.
“Everything, cowboy,” Phoebe said, “but I’d recommend the double-decker burger.”
“Well, then, that’s exactly what I’ll have.” He fished his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out some cash. “I’ll have three of them, with three orders of fries, and three drinks.”
“Wow, you sure are hungry,” Phoebe said, taking his money and making some change.
Abel craned his neck and was able to catch a glimpse of the man’s wallet. It was thick with cash. Without hesitating, he jumped to his feet and sidled up to the man. “Hey, mister, what brings you to the Bent Fork area?”
“Abel, if you don’t stop hustling my customers, I’m going to have Charmaine throw your ass out of here again,” Phoebe scolded. “This man’s not interested in your damn climbing excursion. Now, get back to your table or—”
“Hold on there, ma’am.” The mystery man turned his dull gray eyes toward Abel and looked him up and down. Abel gulped silently, wondering what the man was thinking. Finally, the man brushed back his sandy-colored hair and nodded. “I might just be interested in doing some climbing.”
Abel relaxed and stuck out his hand. “Then I’m your man. I own a climbing business, where I give guided tours and lessons for anyone—from beginners to advanced climbers. It’s complete with all the gear you’ll need”—Abel paused and glanced at the man’s jeans and dress shirt—“well, except for climbing clothes.”
“The name’s Bruce.” The man shook Abel’s hand. “So, is there a place my friends and I can purchase the appropriate climbing attire?”
Abel shot a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a climbing gear shop out back with all the climbing clothes you can imagine.”
Bruce thanked Phoebe and indicated with his head toward Abel’s table. “Let’s talk business.”
Abel’s pulse quickened as he hurried to the table, calculating the cost of a four-hour day for three people in his head. While it would normally be about a six hundred dollar day, he was sure he could get more from these city slickers.
“What kind of climbing do you and your friends want to do?” Abel asked. “Top rope, sport, or trad climbing? We can do it all on my property.”
“To be honest, we don’t really know a lot about rock climbing, so why don’t you recommend something to us?”
“Have you ever climbed before?”
Bruce shrugged. “I’ve played around on the rocks before, but nothing as serious as what you’re
doing.”
“Okay, well, we’ll do some top rope stuff and see how you handle that. We can then move on to some more challenging routes and we might do some sport climbing if you and your friends catch on quick.” Abel glanced around. “By the way, where are your friends?”
“They’re waiting in the car.”
Abel’s brows furrowed. “Why didn’t they come inside with you?”
“They didn’t want to.”
While he wanted to ask a follow-up question, there was such finality in Bruce’s answer that Abel just clamped his mouth shut until Bruce asked him about his prices. He licked his lips and thought about his money troubles. Bruce was from out of town and didn’t know anything about rock climbing and Abel never advertised his prices, so there would be nothing to compare—
“Are you trying to calculate how many ways you can screw me over?” Bruce asked, his eyes turning cold. “Considering I’m not from here?”
“Oh, no, sir,” Abel said, stuttering. “I…usually I only have to figure out for one person at a time and I’m trying to multiply it by three.”
Nodding his understanding, the man pulled out his wallet. His movements very deliberate, Bruce counted out ten one-hundred-dollar bills and placed them in a neat stack on the table. “How’s this for the afternoon?”
Abel’s eyes widened. “Um, that’s…that would be great.”
“Now, how would you like to make double that?” Bruce counted out ten more hundreds and made a separate stack next to the first one.
“Double?” That was almost two month’s worth of mortgage payments. “Hell, yeah!”
Bruce waved him close and glanced over his shoulder, as though making sure no one else could hear him. “But there’s a little catch.”
Abel leaned forward. “What’s the catch?”
Bruce shot his thumb over his shoulder. “You see that hot piece of ass over there?”
Abel glanced in the direction he was pointing. “Do you mean Dawn or Phoebe?”
“The one with the old man—the one you’ve been drooling over since I walked in this place.”
“What about her?”
“I want you to take us where she’s going—to that secret place.”
“To Dead Man’s Canyon?” Abel shook his head slowly. “I can’t take anyone up there unless they’re from Bent Fork. People around here would disown me. Look, I’ve got some routes on my property that are every bit as good as those found at Dead Man’s Canyon. I think you and your friends will find it challenging.”
Bruce flipped open his wallet and shoveled out ten more hundreds. “Will this make me a resident of Bent Fork?”
Abel started to jump at the money, but caught himself. Bruce really wanted to go to Dead Man’s Canyon and money didn’t seem to be an object, so Abel thought he might be able to squeeze the stranger for a bit more. Abel shook his head slowly. “I really need the money and I want to help you guys out, but I just can’t take the chance—”
“Forget it.” Bruce snatched up the three stacks of bills and stood. “I’ll find another local climber who needs the money more than you do.”
“No!” Abel’s objection came out louder than he meant it to. Everyone in the place turned to look at him, including Dawn. He mumbled an apology to the group and then lowered his voice, leaning closer to Bruce. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER 13
Seasville, LA
I drove back to Dawn’s neighborhood for the third time. I only had one more neighbor to contact, but no one seemed to be home. They had probably gone away for the week, which meant they would be of no help whatsoever, and I was beginning to think they weren’t coming back home until tomorrow. I was almost at the house when I saw the rear end of a car sticking out of the carport.
I parked on the street and walked toward the house, but stopped when someone hollered from across the street. I turned to see an elderly woman approaching at a brisk pace. When she drew near enough to speak, she introduced herself as Mabel Billiot.
I remembered seeing someone working in the flowerbeds several times when I’d go over and help Dawn cut her grass, but she looked very different without a large straw hat and oversized safety glasses. I shook her small hand and introduced myself.
“My neighbors told me someone broke into Dawn’s house. That’s horrible—and pretty brazen, considering she’s law enforcement.” Mabel pushed her stringy salt-and-pepper hair out of her eyes and smiled. “I might be able to help you.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. “How so?”
“I think I saw the man who broke into Dawn’s house.”
“When?”
“It was Thursday evening when I was watering my flowers, right before the sun went down”—she nodded for emphasis—“and this car leaves my other neighbor’s house and stops right in front of my driveway, blocking it. I thought it was kind of rude, to be honest. What if I had to leave in a hurry? It was almost like he forced me to stay in my yard. Anyway, a man with dark sunglasses rolls down the window and asks if I knew Dawn Luke. When I said I did, he asked if I knew where she lived. He looked like he might be a cop, so I pointed to her house. He thanked me and drove right to her driveway and got out. He disappeared around the corner and was gone for about twenty minutes. When he came around again, he got back in his car and drove away. I never saw him again. I haven’t seen Dawn in a while either.”
I shook my head as I pondered what she said and responded idly, “We mostly come here on weekends just to check the mail and cut the grass.”
“I thought it was you I saw her with last weekend.” Mabel grinned knowingly. “I guess you’ve been keeping her quite busy. A young man like yourself, full of energy and—”
“So, this guy called her by name?” I asked, ignoring whatever she was trying to say. “First and last name?”
“Yes, sir, he did.”
I scowled, wondering what Dawn’s ex-boyfriend looked like. She never said and I never asked. Was it possible he had taken the time to track her down? Was he so obsessed with her that he would try to kidnap her or hurt her in some other way? While Dawn was an amazing woman in every way and I certainly appreciated the attraction, I couldn’t understand the inability of men like him to move past an ex-girlfriend.
“Other than what you’ve already provided, do you remember what this guy looked like?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I just noticed his dark sunglasses, because I thought it was odd that he would still be wearing them, considering it was getting dark.”
“What color was his hair?”
“Dark, I think, but I could be wrong. Like I said, I was focused on those sunglasses and wondering why on earth someone would wear them when the sun wasn’t out.”
Great. I was looking for a man with sunglasses. That narrowed it down a bit. “What about the car? Did you notice what kind it was?”
“No, I didn’t get a good look at it.”
I stepped into her driveway and waved for her to follow me. She remembered more than she thought—she just needed someone to stimulate her senses. “Can you point to where the vehicle stopped in your driveway?”
She nodded and pointed to the exact spot my truck was parked.
“He was blocking your driveway like I am now?”
“Yeah, but I don’t mind you blocking it.”
“Well, thank you. So, did his vehicle look like my truck?”
“Oh, no…it didn’t.” She slowly shook her head. “Your truck’s white and his was red.”
“Was it shaped like my truck?”
She shook her head. “I remember now. It was one of those SUVs. I don’t know much about them to know what kind, but I know it was one of them. Not the big ones or the little ones, but a medium-sized one.”
I pulled out my cell phone and searched the internet for a red Tahoe. When I found one, I turned my screen so she could see. “Did it look like this?”
“It looked that size, but it was shaped a little different.”
I found an image of a red Expedition and showed it to her.
“No, it was a little fancier.”
When I found a red Escalade and turned it in her direction, she nodded excitedly. “That’s it!”
“Good job,” I said, nodding my head in encouragement. “Now, I want you to think back to when he asked you about Dawn. You said he rolled his window down. Think back to his hair and try to remember what color it was.”
She squinted and stared off into the clouds, her face twisted in concentration. Finally, she shook her head. “I don’t remember a thing about him except those dark sunglasses.”
“Okay, what about when he parked in Dawn’s driveway? Do you remember seeing him get out and walk toward her house?”
“He did, but I can’t remember anything about him. It was like he was a shadow wearing sunglasses.”
I prodded a bit more, trying to attack the identification from different angles, but it was no use. No matter how I asked the questions or how hard I tried to trigger a memory, she kept going back to the “shadow wearing sunglasses” reference.
I finally ended the interview and returned to my truck. When I radioed Headquarters to let them know I was done, the dispatcher said, “Good, we’ve got another call.”
I sighed, grabbed my ink pen, and thought. It’s going to be one of those weekends, I guess.
When I told her I was ready, she asked me to respond to a report of a vehicle fire in Scales, a small and quiet community we served that had a population of about 12,000 people. Scales was located on the western side of Magnolia Parish along Route Twenty-Three, which was a sixty-four mile, four-lane highway that ran east to west and cut through the center of our parish. Located about thirty miles from Jasper, Scales was as far west as one could travel before leaving Magnolia. It was very rare that anything happened in Scales.