Page 12 of Rocky Ride

“I can’t go to jail. I didn’t do anything except light some garbage on fire. Nobody got hurt.”

“The building caught on fire, ma’am,” said Virgil. “Your little gang of stripper-haters intended to burn the building down. That’s where the crime lies.”

“No. We didn’t mean it.”

“Miss Krystal and her husband both thought you meant it, ma’am. Yep. They thought you meant it.”

Brentwood Acres. Tennessee.

Bobby Prescott rented a fairly new double-wide trailer in a park outside of Nashville. He and Ray each had a bedroom and lots of room for the two of them.

Both of them could cook a little and they were enjoying their new home.

“I’ve been thinking of selling the truck,” said Bobby. It’s the only clue to finding us.”

“If the truck is gone, you got no way of hauling loads and making money to pay the bills,” said Ray. “I sold one song so far and that money ain’t gonna last us too long unless a big country star records it.”

“As soon as I get new ID, I’ll sell both of my properties through an agent and that will give us enough money to live on for a few years.”

“I’ll talk to our neighbors and see which ones are shady enough to know where you can get the ID,” said Ray.

Bobby nodded. “As soon as you find out, we’ll go get ‘er done.”

Chapter Four

Wednesday, October 16th.

Black Wolf Mountain. Rocky Mountains.

Travis figured he had a handle on the woodstove and the generator. The cabin stayed warm and his cooking on the sporadic heat of the wood fire had improved.

The wood box next to the stove was full of wood. The basket full of chopped kindling, and he’d discovered using icicles in the cooler to keep the food fresh. They seemed to last longer than the bagged ice and they were readily available hanging from the eaves outside. All he had to do was snap them off and bring them in. Cheaper too.

Sun filtered through the evergreens as Travis tramped the virgin forest searching for the perfect spot to put Olivia to rest. He wanted it to be a special place—easy to recognize and find again—in case he wanted to visit her the next time he brought the boys up to stay at the cabin.

Now that he knew where the cabin was located, and what the secluded property had to offer, he wouldn’t be neglecting it so badly. He planned to bring the boys and Billy up here for a weekend before the roads became impassable.

The dogs heard something Travis couldn’t hear, and they veered off and picked up speed. He whistled for them to come back but they didn’t. In the distance he could hear them pounding through the forest after a rabbit or a coyote.

“Meet you boys back at the cabin,” Travis called to them as he headed back down the mountain.

Startled, he suddenly stopped dead as a wolf snapped out of the trees and streaked across the path in front of him. Not a path but the tramped-down snow indicating the way he’d climbed upward. He was the only one on this part of the mountain.

I should have a compass.

Ignoring the lone wolf, he kept going. Yipping came from the trees to his left. Wolves talking to each other. More than one.

Hope they’re not talking about me.

A glance over his shoulder and there they were. Silent and determined, stalking him from behind. Three of them. Large, black and gray, bushy winter coats. Hungry watchful eyes.

Made him wonder why he’d hiked up the mountain without a rifle. Leaving it in the cabin was a stupid, rookie move. This was wild untamed country where you risked your life tramping around without a gun.

Wanting to run but knowing better, Travis slowed down his pace hoping if he showed no fear the trio would piss off and leave him alone. They didn’t.

Following along behind waiting for their chance, Travis didn’t whistle for the dogs. The last thing he wanted was Max and Sarge tangling with a pack of wolves on the hunt. The dogs would be no match for the wolves, and they’d wind up as wolf food.

The cabin was in sight but not close. Still about a hundred yards down the mountain. Travis figured he could make it with one quick sprint, and he had to try.

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