Page 12 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Biker

My eyebrows hit my hairline. “I didn’t expect that. Also, well done on not making any accusations in front of a lawyer.”

That earns me a smile. Some tension leeches out of his shoulders. “I’m a quick study.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I gesture to the woods on the other side of the clearing. “I need to think about this. Do you want to walk with me? I think better when I move.”

The leaves that are left on the trees are turning yellow and brown. The evergreens are maintaining their color, and the sunlight that makes it to the ground spotlights thick blankets of leaves.

Wylie throws out his arm, inviting me to lead the way. “This isn’t a trick to get me to follow you to a hidden cabin where you’re going to hold me for ransom, is it?”

“That’s at least a fifth date strategy,” I tease.

We wander down a path that leads to the lake shore, then follow another one further up that heads back into the brush. Istart thinking out loud. “He can’t be storing anything in any of the Camp Sunny-Lu buildings. Too many people have been all over them. Real estate agents, insurance agents, us.”

“I was kidding, but are you sure that there aren’t any properties that aren’t in the main grouping?” he asks.

“The Crosses didn’t say anything about there being any more in the listing, but maybe there’s a shed or something they forgot about.”

“Could he have a trailer of some kind set up? The fire was at the southern edge of the clearing. Everybody’s attention is at that end. There is a fire road that marks the northern boundary of the property. He could park it off the road. With a little camouflage, he could get in and out with nobody being the wiser.”

“Like a “Breaking Bad” meth lab? Do you think he’s smart enough for that?”

We keep walking, and the shore disappears. The girls and I have been on Lac Lu all summer, either sitting around the bonfire pit at Violet and Romy’s rental or splashing around in the water when we got overheated doing renovations. We would have spotted a building or trailer from the water. The path gives way to overgrowth, but it looks like there had been one in the past. Wylie and I push on. With the lake on one side, the road on the other, and the fire road in front of us, it’s not like we’re going to get lost.

A gust of wind makes Wylie still beside me. He takes a deep sniff and frowns. I do the same. I don’t know what I’m smelling, but it’s not the scent of trees and leaves. There’s a new note, a deliberate and out of tune one, that I don’t recognize. He pulls out his phone and begins typing. Without looking up, he says to me, “I’m contacting the boys and telling them we need back-up, and to bring the sheriff if he’s arrived. I’m telling them to contact the sheriff’s department and the staties in either case. I wish wecould just handle this ourselves, but I think we need to cover your cute ass.”

His phone pings with a notification, and he nods in satisfaction before he slips his cell phone back into his jeans pocket.

I’m lost. “What?”

“We should go.”

“Fuck that noise. Why? What is it?” I ask. I almost died two days ago over whatever realization Wylie just had. I can’t just drop it.

I hear someone rack a shotgun behind me. “You really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you?”

“You know she still doesn’t have a clue, don’t you, Cross? You can let us turn around and walk away and have plenty of time to make a clean getaway,” Wylie says.

“I’m not about to abandon thousands of dollars’ worth of product because my parents got a wild hair to move to Phoenix.”

“Product? You do have a meth lab out here?” I ask.

“No, sweetheart. Cross has a field full of marijuana growing out here in the boonies. Probably over that next rise,” Wylie says as he slowly moves to stand beside me.

Years of practice of listening to outrageous statements is the only reason I keep my temper in check. Evidently Jefferson Cross overuses his own product, or he would have realized that the girls and I have no reason to explore this part of the property. If he hadn’t made himself known, we wouldn’t have ventured out this far until spring. He could have come and gone, and we’d have been none the wiser.

“Keep walking. My truck is on the fire road. Nobody needs to know where you went,” Jefferson says. The barrel of his shotgun points down what could pass for a trail.

“We assumed it was meth,” Wylie comments. His voice is a fraction louder than normal. “We didn’t suspect a thing until twonights ago. If you had kept your sales off the premises, we still wouldn’t. But you got greedy. Still, we thought you were a low-level dealer.”

“Fuck low level, asshole. I supply the entire region.”

I think I hear somebody creeping through the brush beside us, but I keep my gaze focused straight ahead. The path looks a little more worn now. We’re approaching a thick clump of short pine trees on one side, and a huge fallen log on the other. Wylie crowds me, shuffling me along a little faster. I want to protest, but his squeeze on my biceps tells me to keep my mouth shut.

“Jefferson Cross!” A man’s bodiless voice erupts from behind the pines.

Wylie wraps one arm around my waist. The next thing I know, my feet have left the ground, and Wylie is swinging both of us over the fallen log. I hit the ground like a rag doll, and Wylie lands on top of me. His other hand presses down on my head. “Stay down,” he growls in my ear.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Jefferson yells.

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