Chapter 19 #2
Casey wasn’t a big fan of city folks moving out to the wilds of the Olympics.
More often than not, they ended up smack in the middle of some tragic disaster, freezing to death, accidentally setting their own house on fire.
The gap in expectations established by social media influencers, many who’d never actually lived off the grid, and the reality was wider than the Grand Canyon and about as dangerous.
The Clark-Allards were an exception to Casey’s general experience.
Now in his mid-fifties, Paul had moved up The Valley five or so years ago with his younger partner, Etienne.
Casey wasn’t sure what exactly Paul did to keep busy, but Etienne raised dogs.
A lot of big, goofy Newfoundland dogs. Dogs who sounded scary from afar, but who were more likely to knock a person down out of enthusiasm and then snuffle them to death.
“Come on, Bowie, you can show these goofs what a real dog can do again.”
Four Newfies, three black and white and one all black, wrangled for who got to greet Bowie and Casey first. Elbowing the door open, Casey started to slide off the seat to the muddy ground below.
Excited for the fun and games, Bowie squeezed out from behind him and jumped into the fray.
The sniff fest began. Casey wasn’t worried about his much smaller dog; Bowie had always held his own just fine in the past.
“What brings you here today, Lundin?” Paul asked, stepping out from the shadows of the covered porch that wrapped around the entirety of their home.
Casey looked up at the older man. “Permission to come aboard?”
Paul rolled his eyes. “Yes. Do you need a coffee or tea? Etienne has a kettle warming.”
“Whichever is easier,” Casey replied as he made for the stairs.
Casey was thankful he hadn’t chosen to wear the socks Gabe had given him for Christmas. It was difficult to feel professional wearing pictures of your dog on your feet. Following Paul’s lead, he’d left his boots in the mudroom so he wouldn’t track dirt inside.
“Coffee?” Etienne asked, his soft French accent blurring the word.
“Yes, thank you.”
The main floor of their home was an open space with a kitchen area at one end. This space included a nook dining area surrounded by windows and looked out onto the yard. Casey glanced outside where there was currently a five-dog rugby team roiling in the mud.
“Paul?”
“Am I breathing?” Paul teased.
“Tea is full of antioxidants and much easier on your stomach.”
“Quit worrying about my stomach. I hate tea. I’ve always hated tea and knowing that about me, you still decided to move to America with me.”
“Ah, the things we do for love.” Etienne smiled.
Etienne vaguely reminded Casey of a kinder, gentler Jason Statham, quiet and careful but with an edge of danger. He might have been raising dogs now, but Casey suspected Etienne had a past that was best left undiscovered. In fact, he figured both Paul and Etienne were more than they appeared.
“Milk?” Etienne offered, waggling a small carton.
“Black is all right.” Casey looked around, liking what he could see of their home. He was always impressed by how they managed to make it truly feel like a cabin in the woods, despite its size.
“Is black coffee what you prefer?” Etienne asked sharply.
Paul snorted. “You might as well tell him. He will keep asking until you confess. I don’t know why you haven’t figured that out by now.”
“Life is too short to settle for second best,” Etienne added.
That sounded like something Gabriel would say. He probably had, and Casey had shaken his head. “Café au lait sounds wonderful. And once again, you’ve forced me to utilize my entire catalog of French.”
“Café au lait, it is.”
Moments later, the three of them were seated around the large square oak table that took up the dining space. Outside, the dogs were woofing and whumping as Bowie took the lead and the Newfies chased after him.
“He’s gonna be extra tired tonight,” Casey commented before sipping at his drink.
Etienne said, “A tired dog is a well-behaved dog.”
“Come on, out with it, what brought you up The Valley on this dismal day? Is it something about that nonsense from last fall up at Snowcap?” Paul asked. “We were visiting Etienne’s family outside of Marseilles and missed all the action.”
“How was your trip? One of these days, I’ll make the effort to get out of the country.”
“It was good,” Etienne said. “My parents are not as young as they used to be—but then again, who is? I always enjoy our visits but equally enjoy being back here.”
Not for the first time, Casey wondered what the couple’s history was and what they did other than raise large dogs these days to keep themselves busy.
Casey suspected both men were ex-LEOs of some sort.
Paul being a federal agent or CIA tracked.
Etienne could’ve been Interpol or something equally sneaky and secret.
“There was a possible sighting of Calvin Perkins earlier in the week. Since he used to spend a lot of time up here, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take another look around, see if there were any signs of him.”
“You think he’s still alive after the winter?” Etienne asked.
“I do, yeah. Calvin has the skills and knowledge to survive in these woods. Admittedly, he was more unhinged than usual the last time I saw him, but I think it was grief over losing Dwayne. Now I’m worried he’s out for revenge.
Not sure who on, but if he’s alive, he wants someone to pay.
It’s the way the Perkins brothers always were.
But I didn’t find any evidence today that Calvin has been lurking up there. ”
“And you’re wondering if we’ve seen him.” Paul lifted his coffee to his lips and took a tentative sip.
Casey nodded. “Or his truck. It’s one of those big Fords with Confederate flags flying.”
“That’s something I’ve never understood.” Etienne wrinkled his nose. “This state had little to do with the American Civil War.”
“I’m sure there are folks who have written entire dissertations on the subject,” Casey said dryly. “But I’m going with ignorance. It’s easier for me to tolerate.”
“We haven’t seen Perkins or his truck.” Paul looked at his partner, and Etienne agreed with a nod of his head.
“But the dogs have been hyperaware the past week or so. We both thought it was a cougar or bear that had them acting squirrelly, ended up keeping them in the barn for a few days. But I suppose their nerves could have been caused by a human.”
Etienne tapped the table with his index finger, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “I have heard a few vehicles driving up the road. More traffic than usual for this time of year.” He shrugged. “I didn’t run out to the road and stop them to inquire what their business was.”
Casey nodded and took another sip of his drink. It was delicious, and he felt like a bit of a traitor. Gabe’s coffee was not as good as Etienne’s. Maybe it was the French influence, but Casey was going to buy some different beans to test.
“There are only a couple of homesteads above you,” Casey pointed out. And at least one of them was on his to-visit list.
Paul nodded. “True, but the Carlsons are in Mexico until mid-May. Denny Pritchard is the only one between us and the end of this road, and he doesn’t get out much this time of year.”
“Denny is the next stop.” Casey had saved Denny Pritchard for last, wanting to pump whatever information he could get about him from Paul and Etienne first. Living as close as they did, they knew more about the old man than anyone else Casey could think of.
Pritchard wasn’t that uncommon of a name, but Casey had been wondering if Denny was a relative of Heidi Karne’s, an uncle or cousin maybe.
He’d wanted to talk to Denny before mentioning his existence to Gabriel, just to confirm, and having the mystery of maybe Calvin’s truck showing up had given him the perfect reason to come up The Valley today.
Denny Pritchard and Calvin Perkins at the top of his to-do list. Casey almost laughed.
They didn’t speak for a moment, and Paul and Etienne shared some kind of complicated glance.
Casey’d been framing his chat with Denny and didn’t know what the two men were contemplating.
He wouldn’t have been surprised if they were silently discussing how Denny was not The Valley’s most outgoing person and Casey’s goal of talking to him may not be achievable.
In an area populated by people who just wanted to be left alone, Denny was the most alone of all.
“He’s been a bit jumpy recently. Give him plenty of notice, maybe honk your horn or something, so he knows someone is on the way,” Etienne finally said.
Casey nodded. That was a good idea. No reason to risk being shot at.
“Denny’s at least eighty-five now, isn’t he?” Casey asked.
“Eighty-five and his hearing is going. We don’t like him living up there alone, but he refuses to move. Says he’ll die when and where he wants to,” said Paul.
Casey had associated casually with Denny for a few years, but the truth was what he knew about the man was almost nothing, except that his family, a wife and several daughters, had died in a tragic accident years ago.
And even that fact Casey had heard from the previous ranger. Denny did not invite curiosity.
“Do you know if Denny’s originally from around here?” Casey asked. He assumed Denny was, but the old man just as easily could have been the Unabomber’s unknown cousin who moved to Washington decades ago.
Paul and Etienne looked at each other again. “I have no idea,” Paul said. “He seems to have taken a liking to Etienne. Who wouldn’t though?”
Etienne smiled and added, “He doesn’t say much about himself. We talk about the dogs, the weather. Why do you ask?”
It was Casey’s turn to be vague. “The name Pritchard came up in something else. I’m just wondering what Denny’s history is, if they may be tied together.”
There was a likelihood that Elton knew something about Denny Pritchard. Casey made a mental note to ask him.