by Ed Robinson
Once I was beside the river, I found very little room to make a decent cast. I didn’t have waders, so standing in the cold water wasn’t an option. I was getting frustrated with this enterprise, especially when I spotted a trout swimming by. The hatchery fish hadn’t found a place to hole up yet. They’d be searching the river for a good ambush point. That meant that I could catch multiple fish from one spot, as long as I could find a decent place to cast.
I ended up hopping from rock to rock until I was positioned in the middle of the river with ample room to back cast. I was no pro with the fly rod, so I made a few practice runs before trying to sight fish. I almost fell off the slippery rocks on the first two casts, but got my footing and managed to sling a fly well downstream. I was ready. I just needed to see a fish again.
It didn’t take long before one of those naïve hatchery fish cruised by. I watched him set up behind some rocks before casting in his direction. The fly landed short, but that was okay. I let out some line, and it drifted with the current towards his hiding place. He couldn’t resist my offering. I got to see him rise to the bait and strike it hard. I set the hook and reeled him in. The fish didn’t have much ass to fight back. I landed him gently and looked him over. I didn’t see the attraction to catching small trout. I was spoiled on much bigger and more powerful gamefish from my time in Florida. Most of the fish I caught down there could eat this guy for dinner.
I let the fish go and watched him swim off. He did not return to the same rock pile. I guess he thought it was bad luck for him. I continued fishing for hours, taking more enjoyment from the sighting and casting then the actual catch. It became another Zen outlet. The movement of the river along with the smoothness of my motions combined to hypnotize me. The back and forth of the rod and the sounds it made allowed me to focus my attention on something outside myself. The babbling of the mountain brook and the rhythm of the woods isolated me from the rest of the world. A hooked fish was almost an interruption in my communal moments with nature.
I wasted half the day casting at those dumb hatchery fish, but I did hone my skills somewhat. I only snagged a tree once. I was satisfied that I could master this fly fishing thing. Maybe I could even learn to be satisfied with the small guys that I caught. They were beautiful in their own way.
The climb back up to the car was even more difficult than the climb down. I had to do a half-crawl to allow the rod to clear the branches over my head. Maybe Brody and I could drive around and find better access to the river, or hike along it until we located a good spot. I wanted to include her in my outdoor activities, although we spent plenty of time together indoors. She seemed content to be a homemaker, taking her joy in providing all the comforts that I could ever want. I truly loved my deceased wife, but she had a job, so we shared the household chores. I’d never been with a woman who took such great care of me. I liked that, a lot.
Red met me at the door ready for an outdoor adventure of his own.
“He needs to go out,” Brody said. “He’s been pacing the floor ever since you left.”
“Thanks for watching him,” I said. “I’d never be able to handle him and fish at the same time.”
“Catch anything?”
“Several of the cutest little trout you’ve ever seen,” I said. “Not much of a challenge.”
“We’ve got cute little trout right here in the creek,” she said.
“They’re not factory fed like the ones down in the river,” I explained. “Easy pickings.”
I took Red out and let him run around the yard for a few minutes. He kept looking up the mountain, wanting me to take him on a hike.
“Not today, boy,” I told him. “Do your thing and let’s get back inside.”
He obeyed, begrudgingly. Soon after I sat down on the couch, he brought me a sock from the laundry basket. He wanted to play his game. I scratched his ears and promised him we’d play tomorrow.
Seventeen
Before I could take the dog out to play the next day, I got a visit from the new Chief of Police in Banner Elk. He introduced himself as Andy Hicks. He was my height and weight, but several years younger. He wore his hair in a flat top, straight out of the fifties. His posture was rigid and erect, like a Marine. He was all business. I invited him inside to chat.
“What can I do for you?” I asked. “Coffee?”
“No, thank you,” he said. “I’d like to ask you some questions concerning the former Chief if you don’t mind.”
“I had some problems with the Chief,” I said.
“And he had some with you,” he replied. “He tried to pin the death of one Tom Shook on you, and he was convinced that you moved a large quantity of marijuana from this mountain.”
“He found no evidence to prove either,” I said. “I hope you don’t intend to follow him down those dead-ends.”
“Shook’s death has officially been ruled a suicide,” he said. “But by the state ME on the word of the state police who were present. No official case was ever opened for the marijuana. There is no file that I can find.”
“I considered filing harassment charges over that,” I said. “They brought a dog up here two different times. Nothing was ever found. Our weapons were confiscated without probable cause and by an agency that had no jurisdiction. I chose not to, but now that you’re here asking about the same events, I may have to reconsider.”
“I understand that you’ve been working with the State Police and the Sheriff’s Office?”
“My dog and I,” I said. “Ol’ Red can find anyone that’s missing if he gets a good scent.”
“I’m inclined to assume you’re one of the good guys in light of your recent record,” he said.
“But?”
“What I’ve learned of your past record is what concerns me.”
“What happened to the past chief is what ought to concern you,” I said.
“Your role in his demise is curious,” he said. “I can see no connection, but everyone is convinced that you orchestrated it. How could that be?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny,” I said. “Think what you want.”
“Are you former CIA?” he asked. “I know Brody was FBI.”
“Good God, Hicks,” I said, laughing my ass off. “Where’d you ever get that idea?”
“It appears that you have pull in powerful places that a guy like you shouldn’t have,” he said. “I’ve got a big mess to clean up in a small town police department. I’d like to know that I can do my job without the Deep State interfering.”
“No one in this house is part of the Deep State,” I told him. “We have no interest in stopping you from straightening out the local PD. We encourage it as a matter of fact, even though we don’t live within city limits. If you find yourself in a situation that calls for my skill set, I’d be glad to help.”
“I’m no more clear about who you are than before I arrived,” he said. “You’re as clear as smoke.”
“I move like smoke,” I told him. “Remember that if you ever need a tracker.”
“Some would say where there’s smoke; there is fire,” he said.
“I’ve been nothing but a good citizen since we arrived here,” I told him. “I’ve gone out of my way to be helpful to law enforcement. The only cops who didn’t like me no longer hold their positions. The good cops call on me to assist them. Which side you fall on is up to you.”
“Strong words,” he said.
“I tend not to pussyfoot around,” I told him. “I’ve had too many visits from cops this past year.”
“I’ll shoot straight too then,” he said. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but that doesn’t mean I’m not keeping an eye on you. You’re a wildcard in an otherwise predictable environment.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “But I’ll remind you that I don’t live within the town limits of Banner Elk. For all intents and purposes, this is my mountain. Unless something changes, your interest in me is unfounded.”
“Just covering
all the bases,” he said. “Can’t be too careful with a man who’s often found with dead bodies.”
“I suppose you have a point there,” I admitted. “But I’m not guilty of any crimes.”
“That’s debatable,” he said. “But like I told you, I’ll assume you’re one of the good guys until I learn differently.”
“I’m not bothering anyone that don’t need bothering,” I said. “I’d prefer that no one bothered me.”
“I’ll leave you be, then,” he said. “Unless something comes up or I need your help. Your offer of assistance still stands, correct?”
“Of course.”
His line of inquiry had run its course, so he said thanks and goodbye. We watched from the porch as he drove up to the blacktop road. Brody had been completely silent during his visit.
“He thinks you’re a bad guy,” she said. “Probably heard or read some shit at the police station.”
“His problem is that Banner Elk lacks a sufficient number of bad guys other than cops,” I said. “The occasional speeder isn’t enough to keep his interest. He has to manufacture crimes.”
“There was something to the weed thing,” she said. “But the last Chief struck out trying to prove it.”
“Everyone in town probably knows that,” I said. “Breeze took the pot, but nothing happened to him.”
“Even though you tried to get the cops to do something about it after Pop’s death.”
“Their lack of follow-up is why there hasn’t been more heat about it,” I speculated. “They push too hard, and it boomerangs on them.”
“But now we have a new Chief and a new Sheriff,” she said. “Will they revisit the case?”
“Any sign of that dope is long gone now,” I said. “The new cops only know that no evidence was found.”
“So why the visit today?”
“The new dog is marking his territory,” I suggested. “Exploring what he’s up against.”
“Is it always that way with men?”
“Not girlie men,” I said. “But he’s a police chief. He needs to be the big man on campus. He has to show his authority.”
“I think he discovered that you can’t be pushed around.”
“I hope so,” I said. “We just got out from under the thumb of the last Chief.”
“You’ve got friends with the state cops,” she said. “And the Sheriff’s Department has hired you for a job, which you successfully completed. You’re in good standing I would think.”
“Let’s hope Hicks sees it that way.”
I finally got a chance to run Red. He tore off around the yard for a few laps before taking care of business. He came and sat at my feet, waiting for instruction.
“Let’s take a little walk,” I told him. “See if we can find some squirrels.”
He ran ahead of me up the hill, stopping every so often to make sure I was coming. I tried not to slow him down too much, but he was determined to get some miles in. The only thing that hindered his progress was the occasional squirrel or rabbit. He’d look to me for permission before chasing them. Once they climbed a tree or disappeared down a hole, he was satisfied.
We still weren’t far from the cabin when something else got his attention. He circled a few times before barking at me with urgency. I went to him to see what he’d found. He sniffed and scratched at the ground. It was a boot print, not mine. Someone had been trespassing on my property. For a hound to pick up the scent of a man in the woods, that man had to have been present very recently. I knelt to take a good look at the tread marks.
“Sniff it good, boy,” I told Red. “Track him down.”
The dog was happy to play a new game. He put his nose down on the print and wandered around until he found another. Once he was sure that I understood what he’d found, he set off after the interloper. My pulse picked up a bit as I followed him through the woods at a steady clip. The trail didn’t continue up the mountain. Instead, it ran horizontally and parallel to the road. Someone had parked where they could and walked within seeing distance of my cabin. I didn’t like it. Once I realized that I was unarmed, I liked it even less. I had no choice but to get Red to stop and stay with me. I wanted to follow the man’s trail, but I didn’t want to walk into an ambush.
“Heel, Red,” I said. “By my side.”
The dog stopped until I reached him. He looked up at me with a quizzical look. I squatted down and stroked him, hoping that would calm him down.
“Stay.”
He didn’t want to stay, but he obeyed. I took a minute to settle myself down. I tried to listen more closely to the sounds around me. I smelled the air. We were not close to whoever had been there, but we were still on his trail.
“Slow now,” I said. “Easy boy.”
We continued to find footprints and Red had the man’s scent. These clues led us to Pigeon Roost Road, about a mile from the cabin. There was no car parked anywhere nearby. They’d come and gone. I put Red on the leash, and we walked along the road towards home. Red seemed disappointed that we hadn’t found whatever it was we were looking for.
Brody wondered why we’d been gone for so long.
“Someone’s been up the hill a little way,” I said. “Watching the cabin. Red discovered it.”
“Who could it be?”
“No idea,” I said. “But I don’t like it. Time to revisit our security measures.”
“Great,” she said. “Will we ever get any peace up here?”
“I don’t know what this is about,” I told her. “But someone trespassed and found a spot to surveil us. It can’t be anything else.”
“You think it was Hicks?” she asked. “Or someone working for him?”
“He was pretty straightforward about the reason for his visit,” I said. “No reason that he’d sneak around like that.”
“Someone attached to Cody Banner?” she asked. “Or Tom Shook?”
“No way to know yet,” I said. “They couldn’t see much, maybe me and Red in the backyard.”
“They saw that the new chief was here,” she said. “They saw that they could get a shot at you when you ran the dog.”
“I’ll start taking him out front and up to the road,” I said. “At least until we get to the bottom of this.”
“We can’t just sit here and stay on the defensive,” she said. “We’ve got to do something.”
“Are you encouraging me to stake out our property to catch our stalker?”
“If that’s what it takes,” she said. “We have to defend our property and our lives. I’ll participate too.”
“Most women would be crying and begging to move away by now,” I said. “You’re the best.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to secure our freedom here,” she said. “We’ve got a good thing going. I won’t let some yahoo mess it up for us.”
“That’s my girl.”
Eighteen
If we were being watched by day, the only way to get ahead of the situation was to leave the cabin at night. Winter was over, so there was no reason I couldn’t survive a night up the hill behind our cabin. If our intruder returned, I could be up there waiting for him. It seemed the most obvious course to take. I’d see who it was, and bust him in the act.
If I didn’t know him, I could find his vehicle and take down the tag number. I’m sure Chief Hicks could identify him. He’d certainly have an interest in someone staking out my property. He wouldn’t be able to resist getting involved. His curiosity about me would force him to take action. If not, Rominger would help.
Doubts started to creep in. Had the stalker seen Red and me coming? Was he there just before we found his tracks? If he saw us, would he dare come back again to do the same thing? Was sitting in the woods all night a waste of time? I decided to wait a few days before going up there again to look for more tracks. I took Red to help with the tracking if I came across another boot print. All we found were the same old prints we’d already found.
He hadn’t returned, but I was still
bothered by it. I had enough of a reputation around here that it would take some serious balls to sneak around on my property, especially since we’d gotten Red. Who the hell could it be?
I tried to think back on my encounters since we moved here. The only associates of Banner that I knew were friendly to me. No way they’d come after me now. I’d never met Tom Shook until the day he died. I’d done everything I could to help Pop Sutton. His sister was the only one who knew the real truth, and I’d gifted her his pot crop. The previous Sheriff of Watauga County despised me, but he was out of office and not fit to be sneaking around the woods above my house.
That only left the previous Chief of Police in Banner Elk. He’d come at me man to man and lost. He’d been run out of town in disgrace. He’d moved away and been forgotten. Could it be him? I wouldn’t have thought he could muster the gumption to mount any sort of offensive against me, but he was now my most likely suspect, based on the process of elimination. If he couldn’t take me face to face, maybe he’d decided to try a sneak attack. Red had spoiled his attempt.
I had to assume the worst. For our safety, I had to think that he’d lost his damn mind and was planning to attack us in some manner. I thought I had broken him, but apparently he hadn’t given up just yet. I used all the tools that Captain Fred had put at my disposal, and I’d thought that had been more than enough. Now it looked like the final solution would rest on me alone, as it always had.
I took Red up the hill two more times over the next week. We didn’t find shit. My dog wasn’t happy about it. He was used to having a firm resolution to whatever problem he was presented with. Back at the cabin, I imagined that he was moping over our failures. I felt bad for him, so I arranged a new game of smelly sock to satisfy his urges. He perked right up after that.
Meanwhile, Brody and I turned our cabin into a fortress once again. We took every measure to defend our home against any possible attack. We both grew more paranoid by the day. We talked about how a normal person would ask for police protection, but that’s now how we rolled. We were more than capable of protecting ourselves. We’d take care of the threat in our own way.