Authors: Ribbon of Rain
Chapter1 (2 page)
Someone had shot at her from the plane.
Someone with an automatic weapon.
She replayed the incident in her mind.
Even after she’d rolled under the spruce for protection, a burst of gunfire in that area easily could have killed her.
It was obvious whoever fired hadn’t wanted her dead.
Perhaps it had been a warning.
If so, a warning of what?
Was it connected to her parents’ deaths?
And what about those men climbing into the helicopter?
Who were they and what were they doing here?
The beautiful isolation of her home now seemed threatening.
Red growled and placed his body in front of Kat.
Without hesitation she took cover under a nearby hemlock blow-down.
The dog squeezed in next to her.
His heart thumped against her leg.
She silently cursed that she had gone walking with no weapon.
Several minutes passed before two men dressed in army fatigues walked by about thirty feet from where she crouched.
“That was close,” one of them said.
“Yeah, we should have….”
The rest of his words faded when they turned and headed due north.
The only thing north of her parents’ lodge was Canadian wilderness.
Who the hell were these people?
Kat remained in her hiding place until Red stood and crawled into the open.
Without making a sound, she continued toward the lodge.
When they arrived, she watched and listened to make sure no one lay in wait.
Tail wagging, Red trotted up to the front door.
She trusted his judgment and followed him inside.
Kat shelved her thought to call the State Police.
Faith in local law enforcement had taken a nosedive.
Throwing a few essentials in a backpack, she hurried upstairs to change clothes, yanking on camouflage fatigues.
Once she’d tied the black combat boots, she retrieved her .308 Rueger bolt-action rifle from behind a false wall in the hall closet.
After a lingering look around her home, she called Red.
Together they left the lodge and disappeared back into the forest.
It was time to patrol the area.
*****
Jude Callahan smothered another huge yawn as he drove into the small town of
For the past fifty miles, all he’d seen were a few trailers, scattered here and there along the road.
Downright scary places.
Some were covered with blue tarps, windows enveloped in plastic.
People must freeze to death in the winter.
Not to mention the collection of junk in some of the yards.
Weren’t there any landfills in this godforsaken place?
At one particular trailer, he’d seen two Rottweilers tied to the front door.
He’d be leery of getting out of his car on the property without a weapon in his hand.
He’d been driving for ten hours, his stomach growled with hunger, and he was beat; his body cramped and stiff.
According to Frank’s directions, he should be approaching the right hand turn that would take him to
The turn off to the middle of nowhere.
Jude was still pissed about being handed this wilderness assignment.
Man, Frank must have some serious issues with him.
Everyone in the bureau knew how much he loved the city.
His city upbringing made him a natural for the Jewelry and Gem Department.
Put him undercover in D.C., around the sleazy parts of the city looking for suspects fencing stolen jewelry, and he was in his element.
Jude’s idea of country was a leisurely stroll under the large oak trees in the city park or roughing it in a hotel with no room service.
He loved attending the theatre and enjoying a late supper in a quiet out-of-the-way restaurant.
There hadn’t been a restaurant for the last one hundred miles.
Frank knew that Jude was the least qualified man in the FBI to be tramping around in the woods.
So why had he been chosen for this assignment?
Up ahead on the right, Jude spotted the Rockville Country Market.
He drove in and pulled up at the gas tanks.
His body was so stiff, he practically rolled out of the Land Rover.
Lifting his arms overhead, he stretched his six-two body.
While the tank filled, he walked away from the vehicle and pulled out his cell phone, speed dialing headquarters.
“Hello?
Frank?”
The phone crackled with static.
Man, great reception
.
“You owe me.”
“How is it up north?”
Jude closed his eyes imagining Frank’s snide grin.
“Don’t be an asshole, Frank.
Jesus, this is a nightmare.
I already miss D.C.
Why’d I get stuck with this assignment?”
Frank’s sigh came through loud and clear.
“Come on, Jude.
Give me a break.
We’ve been over this more than once.
Kat Tenney’s our best lead for cracking this case.
But she’s tough.
She’d scare off someone timid and shoot anyone too aggressive.
You’re perfect for the job.
You’re laidback, but assertive if the need arises.”
“I still think…”
“In addition,” Frank interrupted, “somebody recommended you for the job.”
Jude stiffened.
Red flags flew at full mast.
“What prick did that?
Never mind, it’s best I don’t know.
I’m not staying here indefinitely,” he warned.
“I’ll give it a week.
After that you’d better come up with a Plan B.
Christ, Frank, there’s nothing here.
No restaurants, no movie theatres.
I haven’t even seen a damn library.
Doesn’t anyone north of
“The Bureau’s profiler job is always open.
You’d be great at it, and your days traipsing around the countryside on assignment would be over.”
“Yeah, Frank, I’d love to sit at a desk all day long.
Real exciting.
You could’ve included a better picture of Kat Tenney.”
He knew he was whining and didn’t care.
“She looks like every other G.I. with that hat pulled down to her eyebrows.”
“Best I could do on short notice,” Frank quipped.
“This assignment will be good for you, son.
You’ve become complacent, too set in your ways for one so young.
That could get you in a lot of trouble in this line of work.”
“What the hell are you talking about?
I’d rather have the usual ‘forgive your mother for her sins’ lecture.
I’ll call you later.”
Jude snapped the cell phone shut ending the call.
Damn Frank.
Damn whoever recommended him for this job.
Damn his mother.
And double damn Kat Tenney and the State of
He returned to the gas pump, replaced the hose, screwed on the cap and headed toward the store, cursing the lack of ‘pay-at-the-pump’ convenience.
Hadn’t these people heard of credit cards?
Cigarette smoke engulfed him as he stepped through the door.
Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, smoky interior, he spied four men sitting at a small table in the back of the store, all of them puffing away.
Conversation ceased.
They stared at him for so long he fought the urge to look down to make sure his fly was zipped.
“Good afternoon.”
Jude pasted a smile on his face.
“Great day out there.”
Dead silence.
Not a good sign.
“I’m headed to Loon Lake Lodge and thought I’d double check my directions.”
The four men stared at him with blank faces, as if he’d spoken a foreign language.
Their red plaid flannel shirts and nondescript tan pants made Jude feel overdressed in his khaki shirt, jeans and hiking boots, bought for the trip.
Finally, a large man with bushy eyebrows rose from his chair.
“What’s your business at Loon Lake Lodge, mister?”
His voice had the raspy quality of a long-time smoker.
“It ain’t been open for business for over five years.”
Jude walked forward and extended his hand in greeting.
“Jude Callahan.
I’m on my way to see Katherine Tenney.”
“Kat?” the man questioned, ignoring the outstretched hand.
“She just got back from the war.
Ya one of her Army buddies?”
“No.
It’s a business matter.”
“Hey, Hazen.
Don’t ya be givin’ no strangers no directions to
Ya know Kat’s up there all alone.”
Jude shifted his attention to the skinny man who’d spoken.
An unfiltered cigarette dangled from the side of his mouth.
Hazen’s laughter ended in a coughing spell.
“Chester, ya know damn well Kat can shoot off a man’s hat from three-hundred yards.
Could before she joined the Army.
Heard she’s now an expert marksman.
She don’t need no protectin’.”
Jude listened to their interchange with interest.
Hazen lit a fresh cigarette with the butt of the old one.
“Sounds to me as if anyone paying her a visit needs protecting,” Jude joked, hoping to keep the conversation focused on Kat.
“Ya got that right,” Hazen warned.
“Don’t git me wrong.
Kat’s a good girl.
Just a little on the wild side.
Least ways she were before she left for the Army.
Maybe she’s calmed down some now.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with Kat.
Most men in these parts would kill to git a woman like her.
She ain’t like one of them wives that bitch and complain all the time ‘cuz their man’s off huntin’ or fishin’.
Kat would be right there beside ‘em.”
Hazen scowled at
“Most men would rather hunt and fish alone or with their buddies.”
“That’s ‘cuz she can shoot, fish and hunt better’n them,”
“I’d split two cord of wood just to kiss her butt through a screen door.”
Jude choked back laughter.
Hazen turned even redder than
“Ya got one of them Maine Atlas books?”
Hazen, obviously tired of Chester’s chatter, abruptly changed the subject.
Jude shook his head.
“Well,” Hazen rambled on, “ya can buy one here for sixteen-nifty-five.
For another three-ninety-five, ya can have one of them yellow highlighters.
Then I’ll mark them roads ya need to take.”
Jude dug in his pockets and handed Hazen the cash for the gas, atlas and highlighter.
Hazen began marking.
“Ya could run inta’ some problems with some of them roads though,” he drawled, as he traced the route.
“And ya realize that them loggin’ companies make new roads all the time.
Some so new they don’t even show up in the Atlas.
And some roads on the map ain’t there no more.”
Way to go, Hazen.
Make my day
.
“Are ya with those other flatlanders that been coming in here lately?”
Skinny
“I give up,” Jude said.
“What’s a flatlander?”
How could anyone live here and keep their sanity?
All four men laughed.
“Well, fella,” Hazen explained, “a flatlander is someone from outta’ state.
Like you, I figure.”
Jude’s interest stirred again.
This store was a wealth of information.
He chuckled.
“Oh.
I get it.
Been a lot of flatlanders in here lately?”