Chapter 4 #3
The dirt trail they followed led out into a little clearing. There were three cabins ahead of them, one to the right of the trail, one to the left, and another just behind it. Then the trail led onward again to another little clearing with more cabins.
They stopped, looking before them.
By the cabin to the left, there were two little boys outside, batting a badminton shuttlecock around.
“Don’t think that’s it,” Shelly said softly.
“Probably not. So, head to the right first?”
“Okay,” Shelly said.
She walked ahead of him to the cabin. He knew she was armed; he was armed himself. He stayed close enough to watch as the door of the cabin opened.
A young woman opened the door.
Shelly chatted for a minute and then left.
“What did you tell her?” Grant asked as she rejoined him.
“I told her I had friends staying out here, but that I wasn’t sure what cabin they were in,” Shelly told him. “Onward?”
“Onward.”
And they did go onward.
On and on.
The first three cabins did not hold what they were looking for.
In the next clearing, a group of people sat around a picnic table, friendly young men and women, who appeared to be college-aged. They waved, and Grant slipped an arm around Shelly’s shoulders as they approached them.
“Hey,” he said, waving from the trail.
“Hey!” one of the young men returned. “You two lost?”
Grant laughed. “Hell no, not lost. Just looking for a friend.”
“Oh,” the young man said, looking at the young woman at his side and grinning, “maybe in the next grouping. We have all the cabins here. Reunion! We all graduated last year.”
“Congratulations!” Shelly said. “That’s great!”
She eased against him, obviously playing into his act that they were just a couple out to enjoy the day.
“Thanks, and hope you find whoever soon!” the young man told them. “You’re kind of overdressed for a walk in the woods.”
“Yeah, we know,” Grant said ruefully. “Just came from work. Anyway, thanks!”
“I think there was a lone guy just ahead. Saw a man going into the third cabin on down that way,” the girl said.
“And if you don’t find him, you’re welcome to come back and have a beer with us!” another of the young men in the group told them, lifting the glass of brew he’d been enjoying.
“Thanks!” Shelly called.
They walked on, listening as the group continued to chat and laugh behind them. The sounds faded.
Grant slipped his arm off Shelly’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
She laughed. “Didn’t hurt,” she told him, grinning.
He lowered his head, smiling.
She wasn’t going to be so bad to work with, that was becoming more and more certain.
“All right, single man in the third cabin ahead,” Grant said.
“I’ll go.”
“I’ll be right behind you.
She nodded and walked forward. He paused, watching her, pretending to study his phone.
But no one answered the door.
She came back to him with a troubled frown.
“Hey!” he told her. “It’s okay. We can wait here, or if you want to, we’ll move on. I mean, this may not be our guy anyway. I can call Perry, and he can get someone out here in jeans to keep an eye on the place in case—”
“No, no, Grant. I think there is someone in there.”
“You heard someone talking, ignoring your knock?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not sure how to explain it. But it sounded like something moving. I mean, not like someone moving a piece of furniture or even luggage … I don’t know how to describe it, but …”
“You think someone in there may be in distress?”
She nodded. “I guess we could go to the rangers’ office, but—”
“Wait, wait. You think someone might be tied up in there?”
“I know someone is in there. I don’t know how to describe it—”
He started walking toward the cabin.
She followed quickly.
“Grant—”
“Exigent circumstances,” he told her. “We’ve already told people we were looking for a friend. But that wouldn’t matter. It sounds as if someone is in distress. That’s enough to allow me to break that door down.”
He reached the door and pounded at it.
Nothing.
But then he heard it, too. As if someone was trying to move, maybe pushing against the floor, maybe …
Tied up, and trying to move the chair they were tied to.
He looked at Shelly.
She nodded.
He slammed his shoulder against the door with all his strength.
The wood groaned but didn’t give.
He slammed it again.
“I can help—” Shelly began.
“Easier alone,” he told her. “I have more space to maneuver.”
Again.
And again.
And finally, the wooden door sagged in; then the wood at the bolt cracked and broke.
He stepped into the room.
And there, fallen on the floor was a chair.
And a man was tied to that chair.
Grant hunkered down, with Shelly moving opposite him. Together they lifted the chair and the man.
He had blood dripping down his face.
His eyes had been blackened by punches.
His nose appeared to be broken.
“Please!” he whispered, trying to open his eyes and see them. “Please, no more … no more … just kill me!”
“No, no, we’re federal agents, here to help!” he assured the man.
Shelly was already on the phone, calling for an ambulance and assistance at the scene.
Grant looked at her.
And if the man they’d discovered hadn’t been in such dire shape, he would have smiled.
They had found George Maynard.