Page 53 of Final Ride

Her mama’s cabin on Baptiste Lake.

Bobby had no idea if he could find it, but it would give him and Cleo something to do. And if he did find it, it should be a safe place to stay for a while.

“Can you remember where Tammy said the key was, Cleo? We might have to hunt for it—like a treasure hunt.”

Cleo wagged her tail.

Bobby pulled into the gas station on the corner of the highway in Maynooth and filled up the Wrangler. He filled his lungs with fresh northern air and wondered why anybody would want to live anywhere but up here. Trees and lakes and rivers and not too many people.

“Yep. I already love it here, Ray. Wish you were with me.”

Bobby went inside to pay for the gas and asked the clerk at the cash. “You know where Annie Powell’s cabin is? It’s on North Baptiste Lake. Am I close to that?”

“Yep, you are. Want me to draw you a map?”

“That would be fantastic,” said Bobby.

The girl drew a map on a scrap of paper and marked all the turns. “That’s the north lake road. Once you turn onto that road, you’ll have to watch the mailboxes to find her cabin. I don’t know which one it is. Sorry. Don’t know her.”

“This will help a lot. Appreciate it. I should load up on somegroceries while I’m here. I’ll fill a cart and be back to check out.”

Bobby bought enough food and water for a few days, paid the bill, then loaded up the Wrangler.

With the map in his hand, he drove south down the highway and watched for his turn.

“Tell me when you see North Baptiste Lake Road, Cleo. Your eyes are better than mine.”

Bobby cruised along until he saw the sign, turned on the lake road and drove slowly reading the name on every mailbox.

“Left side, Cleo. See that? We’re here.”

Cleo hung her big head out the window.

“Whoa. Helluva steep driveway, girl.”

Bobby pounded the gas and rammed the Jeep into four-wheel drive to make it up the hill. Once he was up and in the clearing, he could see how cute the log cabin was. He drove around back where the Jeep was out of sight and cut the engine.

“This place is nicer than the one Ray and I had in West Virginia, Cleo.” She was running wild, sniffing the ground and growling.

“Don’t you go too far. Might be wolves or something around here.”

Bobby started looking for the key. Lifting flowerpots and running his hand along the tops of windows. Wracking his brain, he couldn’t remember where Tammy told him it was.

“I should’ve been listening, Cleo. Guess I wasn’t.”

Trauma Unit. Watertown. New York.

“Is the Jane Doe awake yet, nurse?” asked Detective Carmichael.

“No, sir. She’s in a coma and her injuries are so severe, she may never wake up. You should get ready for a long wait before she ever talks to you, sir.”

“It would help me out a lot if we could take her prints, ma’am. If we knew who she was, we could call her family and find out what happened to her.”

“The doctor left orders that no one was to move her or touch her, Detective. You’ll need the doctor’s okay before taking her fingerprints.”

“When will the doctor be in, ma’am?”

“I’m not sure.”

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