Chapter Twenty-six
If only Whit could relax and truly ignore the fact that Boyd was standing right outside the cabin.
“Hey, where are you?” Abby asked, holding her face. They’d been kissing and watching as the storm continued to calm and the sun began to disappear behind the mountains.
“I’m sorry,” Whit said. “I just can’t stop thinking about him out there.”
Abby sat back. “Me neither.”
“Really?”
“Well, yeah. He’s tried to have us killed and now he’s showing himself? Of course I’m unsettled by it.”
“But you talked me down and sounded so blasé about it.”
“I was trying to keep you here and keep you levelheaded. It worked, didn’t it?”
Whit stood and draped one of the blankets over her shoulders. “For the time being.”
“You mean you’re still going to go out after him?”
Whit checked her clothes, found them damp, but dressed anyway.
“Those can’t be dry,” Abby said, snuggling beneath the other blanket.
“They’re close enough.”
“Whit, you’ll get a chill. You should let them dry.”
“I don’t want to get caught off guard,” she said, standing by the window. She looked out to where Boyd had been standing near the tree line and scanned the area several times before she felt satisfied.
“You’re worried he might do something else?”
Whit turned to face her. “Like I said, it’s going to be a long night.”
She walked into the tiny kitchen, grabbed a couple of mugs, and rummaged through the cabinet. She found a bottle of rum and a sealed container of instant coffee. There was also a box of herbal tea. She held them up for Abby to see.
“Pick your poison.”
“Coffee.”
“Spiked okay?”
“Definitely.”
Whit used the last of their water for the kettle and placed it on the wood stove to heat. When it signaled that it was hot, she made the coffee and added some rum to top it off. She brought both cups over to the couch where she joined Abby to sit and sip.
“Mm, this is great,” Abby said, taking a drink of the steaming liquid.
“Hits the spot, doesn’t it?” She leaned back and extended her legs to cross her ankles. Her clothes felt cold against her skin, but she felt more at ease being dressed with Boyd lingering nearby. She was really surprised that Abby wasn’t. Not that she was complaining.
She was just getting ready to take a sip of her coffee when she heard something else outside. She and Abby both turned to look and to their astonishment, they saw an SUV driving up to the cabin.
“It’s the Forestry Service,” Whit said, reading the side of the vehicle.
“Like a forest ranger?” Abby asked as they stood.
Whit grinned. “Looks that way. You better get dressed.”
Abby hurried to the chairs and pulled on her clothes while a man, who did indeed appear to be a ranger, stepped out of the car and climbed the steps.
He took his broad-rimmed hat off before he knocked.
Whit opened the door immediately.
“Oh, hello. I saw the smoke and thought I’d come by,” he said. He offered a polite smile, which caused the wrinkles around his dark blue eyes to crinkle.
“You have no idea how glad we are to see you,” Whit said, welcoming him inside.
The ranger entered and spotted Abby, who thankfully, was fully clothed. “You wouldn’t happen to be my my missing travelers, would you?”
“Yes!” Abby said. “We’ve been walking for days, trying to find help.”
“We’ve been searching for you two for a while.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jackson. Jackson Jessop.”
“Whit.” She shook his hand. “And this is Abby.”
Abby went to him and did the same. “Did you…” she started, looking dismayed. “Find Junior?”
Jackson played with his hat. “The man in the vehicle?”
Abby nodded.
“We did.”
Abby wiped away tears. “We didn’t want to leave him like that, but—” She turned away and her shoulders shook with muffled sobs.
Jackson pressed his lips together and scratched his graying temple. He looked as solemn as Abby. “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am. But I am glad you two are okay.”
“We’re a little worse for wear,” Whit said. “And Abby has a pretty significant knee injury. But other than that, we’re okay.”
“She forgot to tell you that she hit her head falling down the stairs out front,” Abby said, after composing herself. “And she also forgot to mention that we have a man after us.”
“A man?”
Whit motioned Jackson toward the table and offered him a seat. He slowly sat and deposited his hat on the table.
“He said his name is Boyd Laird,” Abby said, settling in across from him. “He came into our camp a few days ago and acted friendly enough.”
“But then we woke the next morning and he’d stolen all our food,” Whit continued. “After that, strange things began to happen and we just assumed it was him harassing us.”
“What kind of strange things?”
“More things taken,” Abby said. “And while we were holed up in another cabin, he lured a grizzly in and it nearly killed us. He also carved the word DIE in the door.”
Jackson’s brows knitted. “Sounds serious.”
“He’s been throwing rocks at us here today,” Whit said. “Cracked the window.” She motioned toward the vein-like crack. Jackson looked and then slid a notebook out of his jacket pocket. He tapped a pen on the table and then poised it over a blank page.
“You said his name is Boyd Laird?”
“That’s what he told us,” Abby said.
“But we think he lied about almost everything,” Whit added.
Jackson massaged the stubble on his chin. “We’ve heard of a few guys moving through these parts here recently. Found one of them dead yesterday.”
“Jesus,” Abby said.
“Someone killed him by the looks of it.”
“Oh, my God,” Whit said. “That’s terrible.”
“And scary,” Abby added.
Whit continued. “This guy Boyd said he’s been living off the land. And that he’s heading back to town to find somewhere to stay for winter.”
Jackson nodded, contemplating.
“You think he could be your killer?” Abby asked.
“Hard to tell. But it’s possible.” He continued to make notes. “You got a description?”
“He’s scrawny,” Abby said. “A little taller than Whit with salt-and-pepper hair and a long beard.”
“And he stinks,” Whit said. “Badly. Not sure if that’s important to know or not.”
Jackson scribbled some more. “Every little bit helps.”
“Can we go now?” Abby asked. “Not to rush you or anything, but I’m dying to get back to civilization and away from Boyd.”
Jackson closed his notebook, put it away, and set his hat back on his head. “Sure, just let me take some photos to document your claims while I’m here.”
Abby smiled broadly and looked to Whit. “We’re saved,” she said. “Finally!”
Whit returned the smile as best she could. She was happy to be rescued, but she was sad that her time with Abby was coming to an end. Uncertainty stained their future and she was feeling anxious about it already.
Jackson walked to the window and began to take pictures of the noticeable crack.
Then he opened the door and stepped outside to take pictures from there, careful to get several different angles.
Whit watched as he descended the stairs and began searching the ground for what she assumed were the rocks or objects that Boyd had thrown.
She saw him kneel to take more photos, then straighten and turn to search the forest. He headed back up the stairs and tugged on his hat, as if in deep contemplation.
He waited a moment before he spoke. “I’ve taken some photos of both the window and what appears to be some sizable rocks at the base of the cabin. You mentioned that you assumed this was the Boyd fellow doing this to you, but did you actually see him do these things?”
“Yes,” Abby said. “We saw him today. He stood right out there at the tree line.”
Jackson looked back behind him. “Out there?”
“Yes.”
“Well, we saw someone,” Whit said. “He was covered in a hooded green slicker.”
“It was Boyd,” Abby said. “Who else would it be?”
“Like I said,” Jackson said. “There have been reports of several hikers working their way through these parts.”
“You really think it could be one of them?” Whit asked.
“I honestly have no idea, ma’am. I’m just playing devil’s advocate here. Seems to me that a man wouldn’t come into your camp and introduce himself, allow you to see his face, and then decide to harass you. It would be pretty stupid on his part.”
“I didn’t say he was smart,” Whit said. “And I’m pretty sure he didn’t like the fact that I didn’t fall for his bullshit. My attitude toward him was noticeably hostile.”
Jackson seemed to ponder that bit of information. Then he looked behind him once again. “Let me go see if he left any tracks back by the tree line, then we’ll close up shop and go.”
Whit nodded and she and Abby cleaned up and extinguished the fire in the wood stove.
By the time they were finished, Jackson had made his way back to the SUV.
He sat behind the steering wheel, waiting patiently for them, engine idling.
Whit crawled in the back, allowing Abby to sit up front with Jackson.
“Find anything?” Abby asked. She’d perked up considerably since Jackson’s arrival and Whit knew she was more than excited to get to Cozy.
She’d mentioned contacting her editor while they were straightening up, and Whit could sense her dogged determination to finish the article she’d been sent on assignment to write.
Even after the past few days of notable hell, she was still thinking about her article, with recovery seemingly the last thing on her mind. She really was a fighter.
“I found a few tracks,” Jackson said, turning the vehicle around to drive away from the cabin.
“Got some pics. Not sure how well they’ll turn out.
I radioed in a report, though. Gave an update on your status and on your claims about Boyd Laird.
They’re going to send someone out at first light to do a more thorough investigation. ”
“Think they’ll be able to find him?” Abby asked.
“Not if he doesn’t want to be found. Alaska has an innate ability to swallow people whole sometimes. Those that want to disappear and those that don’t. She’s not very picky and she can be more than accommodating.”
“I hope they find him,” Abby said. “He doesn’t deserve to just get off scot-free. Not after all he did.”
“If I were him, and I saw my vehicle pull up, I’d get gone real quick like. Get gone far away from here.”
Whit wouldn’t care if he disappeared and Abby was able to go back home to the Lower Forty-eight, far away from him. Of course, that meant she’d be far away from her as well. The thought hurt, but she knew her safety was more important than her growing feelings. Regardless of how special they were.
No, her wants, needs, and desires, she had a feeling, were about to be put on the back burner. She just hoped it wouldn’t be for good.