Timberline Trail (18 page)

Chapter 8

The morning light
weakly illuminated the interior of the cave and Tia woke slowly, warmly spooned against Jon’s lean back. Sound asleep, his body remained completely relaxed against her. She snuggled her face against his firm back but the shrill chatter of a gray jay abruptly awoke her languid bedmate, and he straightened, untangling his long arms from the tight restrictions of the mummy bag to stretch. He sat for a long moment smiling down at her.

“You have the most wonderful smile in the world,” murmured Tia.

“I haven’t had much to smile about lately,” he returned honestly and reached out a finger to touch her cheek tenderly.

Tia raised her arms and pulled him back down to her for a long morning kiss.
The rough call of the raucous jay interrupted again and Jon sighed, reluctant to leave the warmth of their bed.

“So what’s the plan, Stan?
” rhymed Tia watching Jon’s face carefully.

“We eat, we pack, and we stake out the cabin.
If the weather decides to cooperate and a thaw ensues, the guests in your house will have to make a move and quick.” He kissed her hard once more and rose.

Over their meager breakfast of dehydrated rice and chicken Jon and Tia once again tried to make sense of the situation as Jon built up the fire.

“The accent of the blonde man who barged out of my cabin was definitely French-Canadian,” said Tia, waiting patiently for the metal spoon to be passed to her. There was something very intimate and appealing about sharing cutlery with Jon.

“We’ve
identified our friend Steve, but have no clue about the mystery man or our man from Quebec. The hidden card of course is your ex-fiancé, Paul. Is he in cahoots with the two other men, or a captive of Steve, the Canadian, and Mr. X?”

“I’d like to think he has nothing to do with any of this, but I can’t be
positive. Paul and I didn’t part company upon the best of terms, and I always had reservations about his motives. However, I believe Paul is shallow, not criminal, and have a hard time visualizing him as a thief or murderer. We also have to keep in mind that Paul risked shaky weather and unfamiliar territory to see me again.”

“He just may not have recognized the severity of storms in
Alaska,” suggested Jon, taking a sip of hot water. They had no coffee.

“That’s true,
Paul isn’t accustomed to inclement weather and could be best described as a sun worshipper. However, I’d bet my bottom dollar it was him trying to warn me yesterday.”

“And t
he boy Tory; what’s he like?”

“
A typical teenager stuck in a town way too small for him. He’s full of the resident pimples and gangly limbs always accompanying the fast-maturing teenager. My friend Mary doesn’t care much for him after he was found breaking into one of her husband’s big rigs. I believe, however, that Tory just has severe growing pains and given time will mature into a fine young man. Whatever his problems, I know he’ll do his best to return to Timberline and fetch help. I do hope he’s alright.”

“Let me try the walkie
-talkie again.” Jon pressed the talk button and while the light burned dimly, no signal was available. “I think the batteries are weak or maybe we’re just out of range.”

“So what do we do
now?”

“Pray Tory sends reinforcements.
But until he does let’s agree upon what we know.” Jon crossed his legs. “Steve, Monsieur Canadian, and Mr. X traveled a long way to ‘make your acquaintance’ so to speak. I didn’t tell you this before, but on one of my photo hikes the day before I found the injured Sugar, I caught Steve watching your cabin. That doesn’t sound like a man simply searching for property unless he’s set on acquiring your house. And do you remember how Sugar reacted to him? My gut instinct says he’s the one who shot the wolf. And your three squatters certainly didn’t appear to want to discuss whatever grievance they held against you, preferring instead to shoot at you, Paul’s truck, and your wolf. I can’t help but feel we’re missing something crucial. Do you have anything of value in your cabin that Steve or his friends might covet? Do you believe it was him searching through your filing cabinets, not me?”

“I do, just like
I’m now positive he shot Sugar. That’s why the wolf kept growling at him. But what they might want is perplexing; I don’t keep much money in the cabin though I do have my Grandmother’s sapphire necklace she gave me on my 21
st
birthday secreted in my jewelry box. It’s probably worth a couple grand, but there’s honestly nothing else of real value in the cabin except for my computer, video player, and TV.”

“Could your father have left something
important in your cabin before he embarked upon his holiday? Something you weren’t aware of?”

Tia thought hard for a few moments
before shaking her head vehemently. “He left some papers, but I’m certain they’re simply duplicates of business materials Uncle Jeffery sent him. They’re kept in the small office inside his filing cabinets.”

“Was he working on a new game or program by any chance?
Something that might have big money-making potential for the company?”

Tia fingered her parka and thought intently.
“Dad was always working on something. He had a million ideas and constantly fiddled on the computer.” Tia’s head jerked up and she met Jon’s dark green eyes. “The other computer! It never even crossed my mind since I work on my laptop. It’s located in the small office to the right of my bedroom.”

“B
efore your dad left he was working on that computer?”

“Yeah, all the time
. He played all his own computer games as well as everyone else’s. He joked how he loved to check out the competition, but I think he just liked to play games.”

“
The eternal kid. Did he ever mention any new product specifically?”

“Yeah.
One was some sort of brick-building game, but I told him that didn’t sound very interesting though it certainly intrigued him. He also mentioned an experimental program designed to sense impending earthquakes and within the first 15 to 20 seconds before the big jolt, turn off the gas, computers, electricity, etc. My dad swore it was a concept way before its time and even traveled to Timberline to speak to some Japanese businessman on the phone eager to test the program. I’m not really certain what happened since Dad had to deal with some other issues and I didn’t hear any more about it for the last three months of his . . . stay.”

“Did either of these programs have names?”

“Yeah, let’s see. The brick program he referred to as ‘
Brick Brak
.’ The earthquake one he strangely called ‘
Timberline Trail
.’ Said he dreamed it up while hiking on the trail near our cabin. I’ve gotten some pretty great ideas on that path myself.”

“Hmm… have you ever heard of industrial espi
onage Tia?” asked Jon, leaning back against a rock and digging his wool clad feet into the sand.

“Of course I have.
It consists of one company stealing ideas from another. Do you believe my new residents are involved in some sort of corporate espionage?”

“Maybe they believe you have some plans that could make them
a whole lot of bucks. And Tia... no one really ever understood why Andrew Carson was murdered. Perhaps your father’s innovative ‘games’ and his partner’s unsolved homicide are somehow related.”

“I just don’t know Jon.
I’m so out of the loop regarding any of dad’s projects. One thing’s clear though, I really need to examine Dad’s computer.”

Jon threw out the rest of his tepid water onto
the sand and shook the cup free of any clinging droplets. “Maybe you can contact him in Mauritius and ask him. Until you can though, I suggest we pack up and head in the direction of your cabin. If we’re lucky the reinforcements have arrived.”



They hurriedly gathered up their few belongings and Jon kicked sand over the fire as Tia returned with the cooking pot to dump snow upon the smoking coals. Jon replaced the pot in his backpack and hitched it over his shoulder.

Tia gazed at him long and intently before admi
tting, “I don’t want to leave this place Jon. I feel so warm and safe here.”

“I know, but we really don’t have any c
hoice Tia,” answered Jon softly. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before scraping through the narrow crevice into the bright world beyond.

N
ot a cloud blemished the azure sky and the temperature had risen to above freezing. Already the snow had turned to slush around the warming boulders. This was the typical weather pattern in southern Alaska before the heavy weather set in, usually around mid-October. Snow and melt, snow and melt until violent blizzards socked in Tia’s cabin and the surrounding area until mid to late April.

They proceeded fairly rapidly down the small hill, using the trail Jon had broken the previous evening.
They slogged some twenty minutes through the spruce and pine until Jon excitedly pointed to the thin finger of smoke drifting from Tia’s cabin.

“Looks like you still have
your visitors,” stated Jon. He checked his rifle, and noticing her distressed face pressed a quick kiss upon her lips.

“I’ll make certain no one harms you Tia,” he promised
, and they walked hand in hand through the melting snow.

Once again the smoke from the cabin made the true distance deceptive and this time, as they paused at
Bear River, Jon took his time finding a place to cross so their warm feet wouldn’t get cold.

Tia noticed a shallow
area whose shiny snow-covered rocks stuck out of the water to make a natural stepping stone bridge. They tiptoed across the slippery stones scarcely wetting their shoes.

“I wish we’d found this last night,” grumbled
Tia, and Jon agreed.

“It’s eas
y to be more patient when you’re warm and have had a good meal in your stomach. I believe at this pace we should make it to your cabin within twenty minutes.”

A loud honking clamor sounded above them and Tia and Jon twisted their heads to view a dozen or more
trumpeter swans flying in formation as they headed south. The majestic birds heralded the start of winter and were a sight Tia could witness a thousand times and never tire of.

“I
sure could use my telephoto right about now,” whispered Jon as the birds disappeared through the ragged high tops of the spruce and fir forest. “Simply amazing.”

Tia’s heart thrilled at Jon’s simple words.
Here was a man who appreciated the nature she so revered and for the first time Tia realized falling in love with Jon Simons could very well be the best thing that had ever happened to her.

The climb uphill was treacherous and they
saved their breath as they sloshed through the melting snow, occasionally sliding a bit as the muddy pine needles gave way underneath them. At the top of the small rise Jon pointed. There was her cabin, looking beautiful and inviting in the clear morning air. Today, only the fireplace in the central room emitted smoke. Jon’s black Jeep tilted oddly in front of the cabin along with a gray Toyota Land Cruiser. Tia’s ruined blue Chevy was covered in snow and Steve’s Kia had been pushed near the shed, obviously unusable. A midnight blue Nissan Pathfinder, its sides glistening as if it had been out for a morning drive, stood near the front door.

“Hmm,” said Jon. “I wo
nder if they have an additional guest or are just planning to make a move. What do you think Tia?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she surmised and sank on
to her haunches to think. “I guess there’s no way for me to check out my dad’s computer while they’re still there and we only have the one rifle. Plus we don’t know if Paul’s being held captive inside.” A sudden image shook her and she turned to Jon. “I’ve been so stupid. My snowmobile’s parked in the shed.”

Jon’s eyes lit up.
“So I guess we have a plan now?”

“Yes,” she said quietly
, as an overwhelming urge to find out once and for all if Paul was involved in all this washed over her. She squinted at the sturdily built house which had been specifically designed to appreciate the morning sun’s warmth each day. Tia figured if she headed north of the cabin, she could first take a peek inside the French windows of her master bedroom before easing around to the other side of cabin to peer into the small rectangular windows overlooking her packed bookcase. While Tia wouldn’t have as good of a view inside the cabin as the east windows, she had less chance of being seen. And, anyone coming out the front entrance wouldn’t notice her footprints. Her mind made up, she turned to Jon who scanned the front of the house.

“Why don’t you go retrieve the snowmobile? I’ll meet you around the back of the shed.”
She hurriedly plowed through the snow, not waiting for his approval.

“Wait a minute!
Tia!” he hissed, as she quickly moved away. Glancing back Tia noticed that Jon looked mad enough to spit nails.