Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series

by Rayven T. Hill

  He had to find the boys. He went to the SUV, found a piece of paper and a pencil, and wrote a note, fastening it securely to the flap of the tent. If they returned while he was gone, they would be sure to see it.

  Everything should be safe enough here. He made sure the vehicle was locked up and took a look around the site. There’s an unwritten code among campers—you don’t tamper with another camper’s belongings. Bears and other animals aren’t bound to that code, but satisfied everything would be safe from wild creatures, he headed into the forest the way the boys had gone.

  He looked for any signs that indicated exactly which way they went. The forest floor of rotting leaves and pine needles yielded no help, no visible footprints, and the trees and bushes that surrounded him grew wild, seemingly untouched by any passersby.

  He stopped often to call Matty’s name, listened intently a moment, then continued on, uncertain he was going in the right direction. They could have wandered anywhere in their excitement to discover what the forest had to offer.

  This wasn’t like Matty at all. He had his compass, knew how to use it, and could surely find his way back. Any danger out here was unlikely to come from wild animals, and he had the bear spray in case they ran across one.

  Something dreadful might have happened to them. He never should have let them go off alone. He thought about the prowler at the campsite the night before. Had there been one, or was it just his imagination? He wasn’t so sure now.

  He continued to call but the only answer was the chattering of squirrels and the squawking of birds.

  He dashed ahead, searching frantically in all directions, and finally stumbled into a clearing. Something familiar lay on the grassy surface. It was Matty’s backpack; perhaps they weren’t far away. He crouched down and examined it. The straps were undone and hanging loose, the compass and bear spray still inside.

  He studied the ground around the area but saw no signs of a struggle or any other indication of why the backpack was left in the clearing. He picked up the pack, tossed it over his shoulder, and chose the most likely direction the boys might have taken.

  He tried to think straight, logically. They couldn’t be far away. Matty knew enough to not wander aimlessly, and he knew his directions, and how to follow the stars at night, and the sun by day. Surely they would return soon, safe and unharmed.

  He circled through the woods, around the clearing, making wider and wider circles each time. He combed the uneven ground thoroughly, looking for signs, tracks, or footprints in the undergrowth.

  After several more minutes of frantic searching, he stopped, hoping desperately they’d returned to the camp. Hesitant to leave in case the boys were just out of reach, just out of the sound of his voice, he called their name awhile, waiting and praying for an answer. None came and he reluctantly returned to camp, hoping to see the boys laughing, giggling, and just being boys.

  His heart dropped when he saw the note, still fastened to the tent, the site undisturbed. He dashed down the grade to the lake in case they’d returned and wandered there. He stopped where the sandcastle used to be, perplexed it was gone. It didn’t make a lot of sense for them to destroy it. Perhaps it was an animal? That made no sense either.

  He crouched down and examined the spot. Faint, yet distinct footprints were embedded in the sand. A man’s footprints. He felt certain now someone else was in the area, maybe close by.

  Finally, he sagged into the lawn chair and leaned forward, his head in his hands, his mind imagining the worst. He blamed himself. He never should have let them wander off like that. He was so certain they would be safe, and now … he wasn’t so sure. He felt irresponsible and fully to blame.

  He stood and paced the camp, turning at the slightest sound or movement from the otherwise still forest surrounding him, begging the wilderness to give back what it had taken away.

  He couldn’t give up the search. They could be in danger and he felt helpless as he stood in quiet desperation, hoping to come up with a plan, anything.

  CHAPTER 22

  Friday, 12:56 PM

  MATTY CAME TO a quick stop and pointed through the trees. “Look, Kyle. There’s a house over there.”

  Kyle stopped and squinted. “I don’t see it.”

  “Right there. Look beside that tree. You can see the roof.”

  Kyle grinned. “I see it now.” He looked at Matty, his grin growing wider. “That means we’re not lost anymore.”

  “Let’s go.” Matty tore through the trees, dodging stumps, clumps of bushes, and fallen logs. Kyle followed close behind, and in a minute, they charged into a clearing.

  “It’s a cabin,” Matty said. “It looks like it’s about a thousand years old. Let’s see if anybody’s home.”

  He hurried forward, banged on the wooden door, waited, and banged again. There was no answer. “Hello. Is anyone there?” he called, but still no answer came.

  Kyle pointed. “There’s a padlock on the door. I don’t think anyone’s there.”

  Matty stopped pounding, stepped back, and eyed the lock. “It looks like a fairly new lock. I’m pretty sure somebody lives here.” He glanced around and noticed a hammock hanging between two trees. A beer bottle lay beside the hammock. Cigarette butts were ground into the dirt. “It sure looks like it anyway,” he said.

  Kyle went to the side of the building, stood on his tiptoes and peered through a small window. “I think you’re right, but there’s nobody there right now.”

  Matty followed Kyle, stood beside him, and looked through the window. The small cabin was dim, lit only by the sunlight that made it through the small windows. There was no one inside but one thing seemed certain, somebody lived there.

  “Maybe they went hunting or something,” Matty said.

  “I think we should wait until they get home. They must know their way around here and can help us find our camp.”

  Matty frowned. “Dad’s going to be mighty worried if we don’t get back soon.”

  “But we don’t know the way.”

  “Stay here. I’ll look behind,” Matty ordered, and then circled around to the rear. He waded through the overgrown weeds and wild shrubs behind the cabin, made it to the far side, and back to the front where Kyle now waited for him. “There’s nobody there.”

  “Do you think there’s a road around here?” Kyle asked.

  “Nope. We’re way too far in. And even if there was one, I don’t know which way it would be. The closest road is probably miles from here.”

  “Then the people who live here, how do they get here?”

  Matty shrugged. “Maybe they never leave. I’ve heard about that before. Old hermits just living off nature, catching rabbits and eating berries. Maybe that’s who lives here. An old hermit.”

  “Then maybe he’s not very friendly,” Kyle said. “Maybe he’s an ogre or something who likes to eat little kids.”

  Matty ignored his friend and squinted thoughtfully at the sky.

  “What’re you looking at?” Kyle asked, following his gaze.

  “The sun.”

  “The sun?”

  “Yeah, look.” Matty pointed. “It’s moved over that way a bit. In the morning, it comes up right behind the SUV, and at night, it sets over the tent.” Matty whirled around and pointed. “That means the camp is straight over there. All we have to do is keep our eye on the sun and make sure it’s always straight behind us.”

  “And that’ll get us back?”

  Matty slugged Kyle on the shoulder. “Guaranteed.”

  ~~*~~

  VARICK LUCAS approached the cabin cautiously. He’d heard the sound of voices—kids. He dove behind a wide cedar tree just off the trail and listened intently.

  He couldn’t make out what they said, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was, they’d found his cabin. This was beginning to be a nightmare. He was so deep in the forest, and yet this area was becoming a major thoroughfare.

  He pressed his face against the bark and peered around the trunk.
He recognized those brats. They were the ones he’d seen hanging around with that big guy. Could things get any worse? He had to do something about this.

  But what? He should skin them alive and feed them to the squirrels, that’s what. No, he could never do that. They were just dumb little kids and didn’t deserve it.

  He would have to play this one smart and somehow scare off the three of them. Or he could kill the big guy and maybe the kids would leave him alone. He would have to think about that awhile.

  He pulled back from the trunk, turned and retreated, dodging from tree to tree until he felt certain he was safely out of sight, then sped up to jogging speed, slowing only when he had to dodge a fallen tree or a patch of wild brambles.

  He came close to the big guy’s campsite in a few minutes and approached slowly. The camp seemed vacant. He listened awhile in case the guy was nearby, or maybe in the tent. All remained still, so he crept in, his attention drawn to a piece of paper fastened to the flap of the tent. He edged over, peered at the note, and grinned. So that’s it. The boys are lost and their father is gone to look for them.

  And if the guy finds them, Lucas couldn’t let them leave. Not yet anyway, if ever. He hadn’t fully formulated a plan yet. He would work at it as he went along. There were so many possibilities.

  He scurried over to the SUV and tried the doors. They were still locked up. Never mind, he had learned a thing or two in the prison auto shop.

  What he really wanted to do was hot-wire the vehicle, drive it out of here, and hide it in the forest somewhere. But he didn’t know how to do that; he would do the next best thing.

  If he couldn’t drive it, he would make sure nobody else could either. He could slash the tires, but that would be too obvious. He wanted to keep them guessing.

  Lucas slipped the hunting knife from the sheath fastened to his leg, lay down in front of the vehicle and rolled underneath. He reached up under the engine, carefully working the blade into the right position, and began a sawing, hacking motion. He heard a snap, and with his hand, he tugged until the drive belt lay on the ground, chewed in half by Otis’s knife.

  That would keep them here for now. It was too far to walk out and they’d be at his mercy. It would give him time to determine his best course of action.

  He left the belt where it lay and headed for home.

  CHAPTER 23

  Friday, 1:24 PM

  JAKE HAD SEARCHED through the forest on the opposite side of the camp from where the boys had wandered off. He thought it possible they had circled around in confusion, after dropping the backpack, and gotten lost.

  After several minutes of frantic searching, he returned to camp. He would have to go for help. He hated leaving the boys out here alone but he had no choice; he was out of ideas. A more experienced tracker would have a better chance than he would.

  He got in the van and started the engine. It idled a moment, then rattled, shook, and died. Jake frowned and turned the key again. The engine cranked, the starter whined, and the SUV hummed. He dropped the shifter into reverse, backed up a few feet, and turned the steering wheel.

  Something was terribly wrong. The power steering was stiff and unresponsive. He shut the SUV off, popped the latch for the hood, and climbed out.

  The drive belt lay on the ground in front of the vehicle. It must have been worn out and finally snapped. He picked it up and examined the frayed ends. Although the rest of it appeared to be in good condition, it was unusual for a belt to wear in one spot and snap with no warning. The RAV4 was running perfectly when they arrived.

  If he was at home he could patch it up long enough to get some help. He had every tool you could need in his garage, but that didn’t do him much good out here.

  He stood with the belt in his hands, uncertain what to do. The vehicle wouldn’t get far in this condition. The engine would soon overheat and shut down without the water pump circulating coolant. He was miles from the main gate, and probably just as far from other campers.

  Out of desperation he turned on his cell phone. No reception. He didn’t expect there would be.

  What a mess this weekend had turned out to be. The unusable vehicle was repairable, given time, but the missing boys were his prime concern right now, and without the vehicle, he would have to find another way.

  He spun around at the sound of rustling leaves and snapping twigs. Someone was coming. He stepped closer to the sound, held his breath, and strained to see.

  He expelled his breath in a whoosh, overwhelmed with relief as Matty appeared at the edge of the tree line, Kyle directly behind.

  He dashed toward them as they entered the site, knelt on one knee, and spread his arms wide. “Matty, where have you been?” He pulled them both close, overcome by emotion.

  Matty hugged his father’s neck, his voice quivering as he spoke. “We got lost, Dad.”

  “There was a bear,” Kyle put in.

  Jake held his son at arm’s length, his brows knitted in a frown, and looked at Kyle. “A bear?”

  “We got away,” Kyle said.

  “I can see that,” Jake said with a hint of a smile. He stood and leaned over. “But what happened?”

  “We saw a bear cub,” Matty explained. “And then the mother came and she was angry and we ran. The bear didn’t follow us, but we kinda forgot which direction we were going.”

  Kyle bit his lip and looked at the ground. “It was my fault. I wanted to pet the cub.”

  Matty put his arm around his friend. “It’s ok, Kyle. Everything turned out fine.”

  Kyle looked up and smiled. “I sure won’t be doing that again.”

  “What about your backpack?” Jake asked. “What about the bear spray?”

  “I tried to get the spray out when we got scared. The backpack fell and we ran as fast as we could out of there.” Matty pointed over his shoulder. “It’s back there somewhere. Sorry, I lost it, Dad.”

  A smile touched Jake’s lips. “It’s all right. I found it.”

  “You were looking for us?”

  “For a while. I was pretty worried.”

  “Sorry, Dad.” Matty paused, then, “The compass was in my pack too, so we didn’t know which way to go.”

  “Then we saw a cabin,” Kyle said.

  Jake looked at Kyle. “A cabin? In the forest?”

  “Yup. We thought maybe they could help us get back here, but there was nobody home.”

  “How did you find your way?” Jake asked Matty.

  “We followed the sun. At first it was straight up and didn’t help much, but it moved and we followed it.”

  Jake grinned and messed up Matty’s hair. “You’ve no idea how worried I was. And I guess I had no need to be.”

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Matty said with a playful look. “We were a little worried too.”

  Jake chuckled and asked, “Where’s this cabin you saw?”

  Kyle turned and pointed. “It’s that way.”

  “Probably about a mile away,” Matty added.

  “Are you sure somebody lives there?” Jake asked.

  “For sure,” Matty said. “There were cigarette butts and beer bottles lying around.”

  “And I saw stuff on a table in the cabin,” Kyle added. “And the weeds in front of the cabin were all trampled down.”

  Jake gazed into the forest, his brow wrinkled in thought. He wondered if the owner of the cabin was the person on the beach, the one who destroyed the sandcastle, and the prowler at the camp the night before. If so, perhaps he was a harmless squatter checking out those who had intruded into his territory.

  And now he had the problem with the SUV to worry about. They had to head back on Sunday and he didn’t know whether or not they would see another human being by then. If not, they would have to leave everything here and hike back; a long way to go if they took the same route they came in by. They could always hike through the woods to the highway, less than five miles away. Surely they could get some help then.

  He decide
d if no one came around they would start hiking early Sunday morning, get some help, and they should be on their way home by noon.

  CHAPTER 24

  Friday, 2:55 PM

  THE BOYS WERE hot and tired from their experience and wanted to go swimming. Jake agreed, the boys changed into swimming trunks, and the three of them went down to the lake.

  Matty and Kyle ran straight into the water while Jake wandered to the left and perched on the rock where he’d fished that morning. He watched the boys awhile. Jake had taught Matty how to swim a few years ago and he had taken to it immediately. Kyle knew how to stay afloat, and Matty was helping him with some of the finer points of swimming.

  He turned his attention to the calm lake in front of him, tranquil and undisturbed by the boys splashing twenty yards away. The water displayed countless hues of blue, reflecting the bright sky. He gazed into the depths of the clear water. Minnows swarmed just out of arm’s reach. A fish broke the surface a few yards away, ripples widening out.

  At the far end of the lake, to his left, a flock of geese caught his eye, and then his attention was drawn to a moving patch of red. Someone was over there. More than one. He could make out three or four people at the edge of the lake. He cupped his ear and heard voices, laughing, talking.

  He glanced over at the boys. They were back on the beach, rebuilding their sandcastle. He went over and watched them awhile. Finally, he spoke. “If you guys are done swimming for now, I’m just going to go down to the other end of the lake. There’re some people there and I want to see how they’re doing.”

  Matty looked up and scratched his cheek with a wet, sandy hand. “We’ll stay right here.”

  “I’ll be able to see you from there,” Jake said. “Just don’t go in the water until I come back.”

  “We won’t,” Kyle said. “We’ll stay here and work on the sandcastle.” He grabbed a plastic pail, went to the edge of the lake, filled it with water, and then returned to where Matty sat.