In the Woods (8 page)

Harper was grateful for the narration. As long as Ranger Daniels talked, Angela didn’t. But she only half-listened, concentrating instead on her annoyance with Hank. She walked apart from him, not holding his hand or even making eye contact. After everything they’d been through, didn’t she deserve a weekend of his undistracted time and undivided attention? Why did she have to share him with samples and tests and passion for his career? Hell, she didn’t even have a career to have a passion for. She was dangling, disconnected. And there it was again, her sense of being lost and useless. Of having no purpose aside from being Chloe’s mom.

Maybe it wasn’t Hank she was angry at; it was herself, for losing her direction. She kicked a rock, heard it plop into a puddle. Felt alone.

‘Bastard!’ Angela bellowed. She took off running up the path, her boots splashing mud. ‘I can’t believe you’re here, you damned bastard!’

‘Phil?’ Daniels ran after her. ‘You found him?’

Harper tried not to slip in the muck as she followed. She didn’t look at Hank, heard him sloshing behind her.

‘You sonofabitch!’ Angela yelled. ‘Stan? Where are you? Get some pants on and come out here.’ She kept hollering, taunting someone named Stan.

Harper came to a small, circular cove. She stayed back, quickly scanning the area, assessing it. Tarps covered the ground, separating the mud from a high orange tent and adjacent canopy. Underneath the shelter was a small propane stove. Two collapsible chairs. At least two gun cases. A portable cabinet that might hold more. Hank caught up with her, stood close.

A shaved head emerged from the tent. ‘Angela? What the hell?’ The head disappeared again.

‘Come on, Stan. I got a ranger with me. Get your sorry ass out here.’

A moment later, the man came out of the tent, buttoning a flannel shirt. He frowned at Angela, then the rest of them. ‘What are you doing here, Angela?’

‘I should ask you that question, Dickwad.’

‘Any of you guys want to tell me?’ The man looked at Harper, then Hank, then Daniels. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I’ll tell you what’s going on.’ Angela darted closer to him. ‘What’s going on is that Stan’s going to tell us what he did to Phil.’

The man’s eyebrows went up, his head tilted, and he put his hands on his hips. He stood that way, looking at her. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you better leave, Angela.’ His tone was flat. Ominous.

Harper and Hank exchanged glances, not sure what was happening. Clearly, there was bad history between this guy and Angela. But who was he? Why did Angela think he’d harmed Phil? They stood at the edge of the cove, ready to move quickly. The guy was solid muscle. But with Hank and the ranger there, they could easily take him down. Except that he probably wasn’t alone.

‘Sir.’ Ranger Daniels cleared his throat. ‘I’m a park ranger. We’re out here looking for a lost hunter—’

‘Well, look what scum has crawled out of the bog.’ A round face edged with tangled brown curls popped out of the tent, followed by a short woman in an overly large sweatshirt, wool socks, and possibly nothing else.

‘Suck it, Cindi. Everybody, meet my lying cheating lowlife shit of an ex-husband Stan, and his lying two-faced housebreaking slut cow whore.’

Cindi cracked her chewing gum and waddled across the tarp to stand beside Stan. ‘Pleased to meet you, Officer.’ She stuck her hand out to Daniels for a shake.

‘I’m actually a park ranger.’

‘Well, pleased anyhow. I’m Cindi. Stan’s wife.’

‘Oh, please. You are not—’

‘Oh yes, I am.’ Cindi held up her ring finger. It sported a large rock and matching gold band. ‘Musta forgot to invite you to the ceremony.’

Stan wrapped an arm around her. ‘Pay no attention to her, doll—’

‘No, you better pay attention to me, doll. Start by explaining what you’re doing up here.’

‘Excuse me …’ Ranger Daniels tried, but everyone kept shouting at once.

‘Fuck you, Angela. Why shouldn’t we be here?’

‘Because you shouldn’t be anywhere I am, that’s why. I have a restraining order, motherfucker. I’ll have you arrested—’

‘Not any more. Not for a year. And anyway—’

‘Where’s Phil? What have you done to him?’

‘—how would I even know you were here?’

‘Phil?’ Cindi looked up at Stan. ‘Who’s Phil?’

‘Everyone, please!’ Daniels held his hands up for attention.

Angela’s face was bright red. She shouted, ‘Phil’s my husband, bitch.’

‘She got someone to marry her? Poor fuckin’ Phil.’

‘Don’t you even say his name with your filthy mouth—’

A spine-piercing, ear-shattering whistle blew, startling them all into silence. Harper removed her fingers from her mouth, whispered, ‘Sorry,’ to Hank, who was rubbing his ears. Then she stood tall and issued an order. ‘Everybody shut your yaps and listen to the ranger.’

‘Okay.’ Daniels eyed her warily, took a breath, and turned to Stan and Cindi. ‘I’ve been trying to tell you folks that we’re out here looking for a missing hunter. Philip Russo. This woman’s husband. He was last seen about a mile from here early this morning. You wouldn’t happen to have seen him?’

Cindi shook her head, no. She kept chewing her gum, staring at Angela.

‘No, we haven’t seen him. Why would we?’ Stan crossed his arms, faced Angela. ‘But here’s a thought: maybe old Phil isn’t lost. Maybe he came to his senses and high-tailed it out of here to get his ass away from his batshit old lady.’

Harper expected Angela to make a move and stepped forward, ready to block her.

But Angela didn’t attack. She walked slowly forward, her finger aimed at Stan’s heart. ‘You prick. You just can’t stand to see me happy—’

‘Honestly, Angela, I couldn’t care less if you’re happy.’

‘Bastard. You did something to Phil.’

‘I don’t care what you are—’

‘Otherwise, why would you be up here now, the same weekend as us?’

‘—as long as you’re not near me.’

‘Okay, you two, settle down.’ Daniels raised his hands again, waved them up and down to no avail.

Harper stepped forward, stood beside him, preparing to whistle again, but Angela stopped. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at Stan.

When she spoke, her voice was sharp and thin. ‘I swear, Stan, on my mother’s grave. If you did something to Phil, I’ll see you fry in hell – you and your little dolly.’

‘Oh, go lay an egg, Angela. You’re a whack job.’

Ranger Daniels finally asked Harper to escort Angela away from the campsite so he could speak to Stan and Cindi uninterrupted. Harper led her back to where Hank was standing, but kept a distance from her. Angela seemed altered. Her features had twisted, eyes narrowed, lips curled like a snake. Sweat beaded her forehead. Venom radiated from her pores. How was it that Stan and Angela had ever been married? She couldn’t imagine that they’d ever loved each other. Respected and trusted each other. How had their relationship turned so ugly? And how deep did the ugliness go? Deep enough for murder?

Harper eyed Stan and Cindi, their weapon cases under the canopy. With Angela beside her, sputtering bitterness, she gazed out toward the bog. It would be easy enough to dump a body in that dark water. She watched the surface, imagined a body floating just underneath, half-expected it to pop up and reveal itself. When Hank came up behind her and put a hand on her back, she spun around reflexively, her arm back and ready to swing.

Daniels divided them up. Hank was to keep an eye on Angela, and Harper on Cindi while he had a word alone with Stan.

Harper took Cindi to the folding chairs under the canopy. ‘Aren’t you cold?’ Harper nodded at Cindi’s bare legs.

‘Me? No. I’m always hot.’ She curled into a chair. ‘Say. Would you like a beer? We have a ton of them—’

‘No. No, thanks. But you go ahead.’ Actually, Harper wanted several. She was tired, worried about Philip Russo. And the exchange between Stan and Angela had been jarring. Was it possible that Stan had done something to his ex-wife’s new husband?

‘No, I’ll wait for Stan.’ She looked at him, talking to Daniels. Then she leaned forward, whispering to Harper. ‘How do you know her?’ She nodded toward Angela.

‘Me? Oh, I don’t.’

‘Really? So what are you doing – are you with the ranger?’

‘No. Angela came to our camp this morning, when she couldn’t find her husband. We’re just helping out.’

Cindi nodded. ‘That’s your husband? He’s cute.’

Harper had to smile. Hank was ‘cute’? She thought of him as rugged or powerful. Maybe even animal. But cute? ‘Thank you.’ She felt the need to add, ‘So’s yours.’

‘Yeah. Stan’s a sweet guy. I don’t know how he and her ever got together. She’s a witch. With a “b”.’

Harper didn’t answer. Daniels and Stan had joined them under the canopy. Daniels took the weapons cases, carried them out in front of the tent.

‘Thing is, why is she acting so surprised that we were here? We’re here most every weekend. She knows that.’

Harper was watching the men, wasn’t paying attention.

‘It’s Stan’s spot. The same spot she and him used to camp at. For like nine years. So why was she acting like she didn’t expect him to be here?’

‘Wait. She used to camp here?’

‘You bet. Stan loves the bog. And this little nook is his own personal camping place. Nobody else even knows it’s here. He camps here just about every weekend in the fall – with me or by himself.’

‘Angela knew that?’

Cindi nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. She wants to make trouble for Stan. What she said before about that restraining order? She made stuff up about him and said he’d stalked her and threatened her, that kind of crap. She actually had a court order saying he couldn’t come near her, which he was only too happy to obey. He was never bothering her. She did it out of spite, just because she can’t stand that we’re together.’ Cindi paused, blew a bubble with her wad of gum. Popped it.

Daniels opened one of the cases, removed the rifle. Harper watched, thought it looked like a bolt-action Beretta. Daniels checked it. Talked to Stan. Took a few boxes of thirty-caliber bullets out of the case.

Across the campsite, Hank and Angela were drinking water. Angela was talking, gesturing. Hank nodding, tolerating. Harper watched, trying to be objective. Was Hank ‘cute’? Maybe, in a rough, grizzly-bear-like way. Even so, she was still annoyed with him. Wait. Why again? She tried to remember.

‘Okay.’ Cindi sounded resigned. ‘To be fair, it’s not all her fault. We used to be friends, her and me. So she blames me for them breaking up, but really, I wasn’t the reason. They were done; I was just the final blow. And honestly? When Stan told me she got married again, we were ecstatic. We thought she’d finally leave us alone. With a new husband, maybe she’d have better things to do than harassing us.’

‘When did she get married?’

‘Oh, way before we did. We got married eight months ago last week. Angela? Stan told me about it maybe a couple months before that. I didn’t ever meet the guy, though. Never even knew his name until just now. Phil?’

So that would make it a year or so? Maybe less? Angela and Phil were still newly-weds. Harper tried to piece together what she was hearing. To make sense of it. Why had Angela brought Phil hunting in the same area as her ex-husband’s campsite? And if she’d known all along that Stan would be camping there, why had she acted so surprised to find him? Another question tickled her mind, but she didn’t form it because Daniels interrupted her thoughts, raising his voice. She looked, saw him arguing with Stan.

‘I told you I have no idea.’ Stan put his hands up.

‘How about your wife?’

‘My wife didn’t either. We’ve been together all day.’

Cindi sat up straight. ‘What’s wrong, hon?’ she called. ‘Ranger, you want to talk to me?’

Daniels turned to face them. ‘Ma’am.’ He towered over them and his face was grave. ‘Have you fired this weapon recently?’

‘No, sir. Haven’t taken it out of the case since we got here.’

He looked at Harper. ‘I have to call this in.’

‘Hold on,’ Stan shouted. ‘Call what in? It’s no crime to have a weapon. It’s hunting season. I’m here to hunt.’

‘But you just told me that you haven’t fired this gun.’

‘Because I haven’t.’

Angela bounced up and rushed to join them, Hank at her heels. ‘See? They shot him. They must have shot him – where’s his body? What did you do with him?’

‘Stop.’ Hank grabbed her shoulders. ‘Just hold still and hush.’

Angela squirmed, trying to free herself, but she didn’t make a sound.

‘I don’t see what the problem is.’ Stan faced Daniels.

‘Okay, I’ll explain it. The problem is that we have the body of a man who’s been shot, ammunition that’s the same caliber as the fragment we found with his body, a missing man that you’ve had some problems with, and a rifle that’s been fired even though you say it hasn’t.’

The blood drained from Stan’s face. ‘But …’ He looked at Cindi. ‘It hasn’t been fired.’

Cindi shook her head, agreeing. ‘We don’t know anything about a shooting or her husband. Really. Stan’s been with me non-stop since we got here.’

Daniels looked at Stan, then Cindi. ‘Really? Non-stop?’

Cindi flushed. ‘Yes, really. The only time he’s left my sight was to go take a piss in the woods.’

Daniels puckered his lips, then turned to Hank. ‘Would you and your wife be kind enough to keep the peace while I radio the police?’

‘The police? Why?’ Stan persisted. ‘We didn’t do anything.’

Cindi ran to him and held on. ‘What’s going on, Stan? Does he think you shot Angela’s husband?’

Harper suggested that they all go sit down, and Hank herded them under the canopy.

Angela stayed back, picking mud from her cuticles, watching the captain make his call. Harper looked at her, thought she saw a hint of a smile.

Cindi wouldn’t let go of Stan. ‘Should we call a lawyer, Stan? What’s he telling the police? This is crazy. So what if your gun’s been fired? People come here to hunt. Everybody fires their rifles. Maybe you forgot you shot at something. Maybe when you were cleaning it. So what if you did? That’s not against the law.’

Stan let her cling to him, but he didn’t say anything. His face was grim, his eyes set on Angela. Harper watched him, the quiet sizzle of his gaze. He sat calmly, his body relaxed, but his eyes glowed like hot coals. What would happen if Stan let go and released that hot anger? Would he get violent? Maybe kill?