Resolution: Evan Warner Book 1 (19 page)

“Russel Pond,” he said next. “That’s over on one twenty-seven, headed toward the state fair?”

“That’s it.”

“I know the place but haven’t been over in years. Way back in the day, my father used to take me fishing over there.” He smiled. “Nice spot. But we never did catch any brook trout.”

“You’ll be glad to know we have it stocked now.”

He nodded approvingly.

“It’s actually not a natural pond,” I explained. “It started out as a test quarry, way back. Evidently Mr. Russell found more spring water veins than granite. He moved on to greener pastures, and the pond kept getting bigger with each spring melt. His grandchildren finally sold the land to my parents back in the eighties. They built the campground up slowly over time.”

“About how many acres is that?”

“Almost four hundred.”

Charles whistled. “I wouldn’t want their property taxes.”

“I wouldn’t want to write the check.”

“Must be worth it, though.”

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “It was a risk in the beginning. The first few years were kind of iffy. But now everything’s good. We just have to keep criminal activities to a minimum. That’s bad press.”

Kendra set the three steaming mugs on the table. She set out some sort of organic sweetener and a carton of cream and then took a chair. Frank got comfortable by my feet. No one said it, but the time to address the real issue had arrived.

25

“About those Franklin boys,” Charles began. He used both of his arthritic hands to steady his coffee mug.

“They’ve been dealt with,” I said.

“They sold Simon to some other guy,” Kendra said. “And as it turns out, the buyer is someone Evan knows.”

“Really?”

I nodded.

Charles hesitated. “You said they’ve been dealt with. Dare I ask?”

“There was an accident.”

They both stared at me. Kendra raised her eyebrows, waiting for more.

“One of their fighting dogs turned on them,” I said. “It’s a risky business they’ve been running. Only a matter of time before something happened.”

“So …” Kendra began.

“It got ugly,” I said. “As a result, the Bensons should be out of commission for a while.”

They both stared.

I said, “When they get released from the hospital, hopefully they’ll be charged with felony animal abuse. I found pictures of their little science projects in the basement. Dogs, cats, squirrels. All cut to pieces like amateur autopsies. That’s on top of steeling dogs and fighting them. No telling what else they’re into.”

“Christ,” Charles muttered.

“Sickos,” Kendra chimed.

“Sometimes bad things happen to complete assholes.”

“Most people don’t like their own medicine,” Charles said.

I nodded, said, “Just to be clear, I’m not claiming that what I did was completely right. But I think it had to be done.”

“Right and wrong can get a little hazy in some cases,” Charles said. “That’s the nature of dirty jobs.”

“Someone has to do them. Someone has to clean up the trash.”

No one said anything.

I resumed, “The older brother is a parasitic thug. The younger one is even worse. A serial killer in the making, working his way up to bigger game. It was only a matter of time before he got bold enough to hack up a kid.”

The kitchen was quiet for a long five seconds.

“You know,” Charles said with obvious discomfort, “Franklin’s police isn’t exactly the finest department around. There’s a chance—”

“If those boys don’t get locked up, they’ll have to be dealt with. Simple as that. But that’s not today’s problem.”

Father and daughter looked at each other briefly. Then back at me.

“Here’s the deal,” I said, building momentum. “You’re nice people and I’ll shoot you straight. I don’t seek anyone’s approval. I’m not running for office here. My conscience and my instincts guide me. That’s it. I’ve been accused of being overly aggressive in the past and I’m sure it’ll happen again. Plenty of people like having someone like me around when a kid is being kidnapped. But then there’s always someone that thinks fire should never be fought with fire. That unreasonable people should be painstakingly reasoned with.”

I took a breath. “Bullshit. That’s not how I think or how I operate. I’m not a sheep. I refuse to live like one. And I refuse to stand by while predators rip other people’s lives apart. If there’s shit to deal with, I’d rather get to it and get it over with.”

I paused a beat and asked, “You want Simon back, don’t you?”

They both answered yes at once.

“So I’ll get him tonight. End of story.”

Silence.

I looked at Kendra. “No need for you to get your hands dirty.”

“I don’t doubt you,” she said. “But I don’t want to sit here wondering. I lost him, and I want to help get him back.”

Charles said to his daughter, “I think Mr. Warner has spoken his mind very clearly.”

“Neither of you are listening to me,” she replied. “I’m saying I
want
to help.”

“I hear you, Kendra,” I said, keeping my voice low and steady, so as not to add fuel to the emotions. “I respect your attitude a lot more than some whiney princess demanding service. But I’m being perfectly straight with you here. Just stay clear until I’ve got Simon. If not for your own sake, do it for your father.”

Charles Cole reached across the table and placed his hand over his daughter’s clenched hands.

“Honey,” he said. “No one is blaming you.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Our friend here appears to be a no nonsense sort of guy. Obviously he likes to work by himself. We can best help him by stepping aside and letting him handle things his own way. As thanks, we owe him that much at least.”

I added nothing. Charles had summed it up well enough.

Kendra looked at me for a long moment. I could see her mind racing to regain control of the situation. She had wanted me to set her father at ease about the course of action and obviously she hoped that he’d waver and side with her. I’d stopped a kidnapping. I had a strong physical presence. It would be enough to get him on board with me. Then she could do what she felt compelled to do with a clear conscience.

But it hadn’t worked quite like she’d hoped. He hadn’t sided with her. Now she was outnumbered. Reeling and fighting to regroup and come at me from a different angle.

“You mentioned your cousin,” she said. “Can I at least go and wait with him? That way I can be there when you come back with Simon.”

“It would be best if I left Simon on your doorstep and you forget we ever met. I’m breaking the law here, at a point where it fails to protect those who can’t defend themselves. But it’s still illegal. I’m a believer in the rule of law, so I don’t break it lightly. No need for you to break it with me.”

“But we’re already involved,” Kendra said. “Look, here we are discussing it.”

“Hearsay,” I returned. “Maybe I’ve made everything up. Maybe I’ve done nothing at all and I’m just full of it, right up to my ears. You don’t know me well enough to tell the difference.”

They both stared back at me. I had entered their home on friendly terms and entertained their small talk. As I’ve learned to do over the years, I had adapted my disposition to the situation as quickly and easily as if flipping a switch. Friendly at first. Dead serious when necessary. None of it was act. I meant every word. And they knew it. My firm tone followed by my cold stare drove that point home to them.

“I see,” Charles said quietly.

“Good,” I said, looking from him to his daughter. “If you disapprove of my tactics, find a meaner guy to stop me. Sick the cops on me. See if you get your dog back.”

The room was quiet. Tense.

I drained my coffee and stood up and roused Frank. My work there was done.

“So that’s it?” Kendra said, standing fast.

“Nice meeting you,” I said to Charles.

He nodded and I was speaking again before he could get a word in. It was rude but effective. A tactic of nonviolent dominance.

“Thanks for the coffee,” I said to Kendra. Turned and went to the door.

She followed us outside and stood on the steps while I got Frank in the van. From the corner of my eye she reminded me of a simmering kettle ready to pop its lid.

“You turned this around on me,” she said.

I looked straight at her as I slid into the driver’s seat, said, “I told you I’d meet your dad, and I did. I never promised to play your game fairly.”

Then I closed the door and got the van started and backed out. Ten seconds dragged by. The whole time Kendra stood there watching me, glaring. If she’d had access to a rocket launcher in that moment, I would have been in a world of hurt.

But I was fine with it. She could be mad and she could get over it. My goal wasn’t to be the world’s most accommodating gentleman. I wanted to get Simon back while keeping complications to a minimum.

26

I stopped before my parents’ house and hit the horn. Dad came out and stepped up to the van. I asked him how everything was going.

“Flawless,” he said. “No calls, no complaints. Lots of folks heading out. A few coming in. Mostly an older crowd.”

“Good,” I said. The smaller and older crowds were generally much better behaved. Easier to deal with.

“I guess we’ve survived another holiday weekend.”

“Looks that way.”

“What are you up to?”

“Just kicking ass and taking names,” I said. “You know, being a good sheepdog.”

He laughed. I smiled. It was funny to him because he took it as sarcasm. It was funny to me because it was accurate.

“On behalf of the sheep, thanks for your effort,” Dad said.

I nodded and said, “I’ll be at the cabin.”

For the next few hours I was undisturbed. No one called. No one rang the bell. It was almost like paradise. I used the time to do a few chores. Checked e-mail and book sales. Checked Yahoo! for any interesting news. Checked Facebook. Cleaned most of my guns and prepped a few for the evening. Used the quiet time to mull over a plan.

I looked over a satellite map of the town. Zoomed right in on my area and tracked my route from the trail where we’d stashed the Escalade. The trail paralleled the dirt road for a fair stretch. Then I’d have to cross the dirt road and duck through a field until I reached the river. Then I could turn left and creep up on the Brady Construction complex.

It was a big area. A big yard surrounded by fields. Their large house was at the center and there were several garages. One garage was massive. Big enough to house heavy equipment and huge parts during maintenance. There were dump trucks and big trailers, a dozer, a backhoe, an excavator, and a big rig to pull them all. Everything a construction outfit might need. Plus all the snow plows and smaller pickup trucks and other odds and ends. Small tool sheds and a wooden overhang covering the sand used for treating the roads in winter.

But there were no obvious dog kennels or dog houses. That made me wonder. Maybe they were keeping them in the basement of the house. Or in a corner of one of the garages. Or maybe Jared Benson had fooled me. Maybe Tommy Brady was a scapegoat because he looked like a rich kid with his family name stenciled on his truck’s door.

I stared at the satellite image for a long time. I envisioned myself walking on the soft pine-needled trail. Smelling the pines and then smelling the river when I neared it. I did a mental walkthrough of the whole trip and the whole complex. The goal was to keep surprises at a minimum.

I assumed there would be a security camera or two overlooking the front yard and driveway. It would be odd not to have at least one. The equipment in that yard was worth millions altogether. But I doubted there would be a camera behind the house. There was nothing in back but a lawn sloping down to the river’s edge. On the other side of the river there was nothing but miles and miles of forest. Moose and bear and deer aren’t known for stealing heavy equipment.

When I felt like I had everything worked out, I closed my laptop and went out on the porch with a glass of iced tea. Lit a smoke and sat in my rocker. I could hear all the typical sounds of the campground. Voices and activity muffled by distance and trees. Everything sounded good. No stress, no problems. Just people enjoying the outdoors.

At some point I nodded off. I was startled awake by a blue jay screeching. The jay was alerting to a vehicle coming down the road. An SUV. It was dark with a shiny grille. There was a little Ford logo. It was a Ford Explorer. Charles Cole’s vehicle. I couldn’t see him clearly in the driver’s seat as the SUV moved by parallel with my front lawn, but I was pretty sure that it was his vehicle. It went on by in a wide circle and looped back heading toward the other cabins.

“You’re kidding,” I muttered.

Frank took the opportunity to get up from his bed and start pestering me. It had nothing to do with my bad vibes. He figured it was late enough in the afternoon to have supper. He gives me the same look every day around the same time. Just stands there and stares with this hopeful expression. Wags his tail a little and waits patiently for me to get moving. It’s like he’s saying, “Yeah, you know what time it is. Get to it.”

I stretched and got up and went inside to feed Frank. He had kibble and some raw grass fed beef mixed with hot water. It was a soupy mess. He loved it. He made it go away in no time at all. For dessert he had some baby carrots. They’re good for his teeth and he seems to enjoy them. And carrot breath is better than most of the alternatives.

Then I sat at the table and ate the second big sub I’d brought home. One of three Kendra had graciously provided. It was a great sandwich. If my appetite saw fit, the third one would be fair game, too. I’d intended it for Willie. But really, it wasn’t like he was in any danger of wasting away. And the extra weight wouldn’t help his knee in the long run.

After that we went outside to do a patrol. I was all geared up with my Magnum and other accessories. Had my camera on and everything. We walked up the road as usual. The cabins had emptied out earlier. That meant the cleaning crew would’ve buzzed through around midday and now they’d be ready for a new batch of occupants. The weekday crowds were generally older. No kids. Might stay a few days or all week. The grounds would be quieter and trouble would be at a minimum.

Usually, anyway.

We passed cabin 7 and it was empty. Cabin 6 had a big four-door Chevy truck with a cap over the bed parked in the drive. A couple I guessed to be in their fifties were moving in. Number 5 had a minivan in the drive, but I couldn’t see anyone around. They were either inside or out walking around. It was the same at number 4. Number 3 was vacant. Number 2 had a Ford Explorer parked nose-out beside it.

I stopped in the road and looked at Charles Cole and his daughter. They were sitting on the porch, each in a rocker. Charles was wearing the same jeans and flannel shirt. He fit well into the surroundings. Kendra was wearing camouflage leggings and a dark T-shirt. Her hair was in two black-and-platinum pigtails that protruded from a tan hat that was either meant for the beach or a safari. She was smiling. But not nicely.

Essentially she was giving me the middle finger via smile.

Frank paused a few seconds after I did. He sniffed the air and caught a familiar scent. Then he followed the scent to the source and went up on the porch to say hello to his friends.

I moved up by the Ford’s hood and looked at them from maybe twenty feet away. So that was how they were going to play it. Move right in and keep tabs on me. Close but not too close. It was an oblique response. Passive aggression. Better for them than a straightforward confrontation.

But it still wouldn’t work.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Just as pretty as I remember it,” Charles answered. “The pond looks a little bigger.”

I nodded.

“It’s very peaceful,” Kendra said. “Very relaxing. No wonder business is so good.”

“Remember,” Charles said. “You need a sense of humor in this life.”

“Can’t argue,” I said.

“You’re parents are nice people,” Kendra said.

“Be careful with that,” I said.

“Relax. We didn’t even mention that we knew you.”

I nodded. “Good.”

“I’ve got news,” she said in her next breath.

“Good or bad?”

“We stopped at the Franklin animal shelter on the way over to get some dog treats. They sell stuff to raise money for the animals. While I was in there I saw two pit bulls. The lady working there said they’d just come in this morning. The police took them out of a bad situation.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“So at the very least, our friends won’t be getting their dogs back.”

“Maybe the police will handle everything right.”

“There’s always hope,” she said.

“Hope is fine. But it’s not always enough.”

She didn’t respond.

“I need to get going,” I said. “Need to finish my patrol before dark.”

“Planning on meeting a dragon?” she said, smiling again.

“Never can tell. My parents let in all sorts of riffraff.”