Page 52 of Final Escape
“So now it’ll be just you and me, buddy,” Carrie said, stroking the old dog’s head as she watched the last customer’s car pull out. “But we’ll be fine.”
Buttoning her sweater against the evening chill, she sauntered over to the boathouse to help Logan and Penny finish putting away the equipment. Murphy followed and curled up on his bed in the corner of the building.
“There were several more calls while you were gone, and four more reservations via the internet. Things are looking good for the next week or so.”
“Thanks. It helps to have a voice instead of a recording if people call.” Penny smiled. “And that’s just the news we want to hear.”
Murphy suddenly stood up, his head up and ears pricked, his tail low and still, then he bolted out of the building to stare at the line of trees to the south, near the river’s edge.
Logan motioned for Penny and Carrie to stay inside. “I’ll go check around.”
They stood in the doorway and watched him go. Dusk was falling, and now the world was in shades of muted gray. In just a few strides Logan disappeared. Carrie wrapped her arms around her middle, straining to see where he’d gone.
Someone else appeared out of the shadows. Voices drifted through the darkness. Logan’s tone insistent, the stranger’s voice hesitant.
“I think it’s Dante Loomis,” Penny said, after listening intently.
“You mentioned him once before. Who is he?”
“A reclusive old guy who’s lived off the land up in the mountains somewhere since coming back from Vietnam. He doesn’t show up for weeks or even months at a time, then drifts into town for supplies—more alcohol, mostly. The younger kids are frightened of him because he looks scary with all that scraggly hair, but he’s harmless. He hasn’t ever harmed a soul around here, anyway. I hate to think what he might’ve been through in that war.”
“Sounds like a troubled guy.”
“Exactly. They say he was normal before. Now, he supposedly has quite an arsenal, is suspicious of everyone and is still convinced that ‘government agents’ are after him.”
“Shouldn’t he have gotten help? Like at a veterans’ hospital somewhere?”
“You’d think, but he would have none of it. Come on—you should meet him in case you run into him out here sometime. Logan?” Penny called out. “We’re coming.”
Carrie followed her outside to where Logan and Dante stood at the far end of the parking area, under a pool of light from the security lamp overhead.
She could see why small children might be frightened. A good six feet tall, Dante was dressed in multiple layers of ragged clothes, with an army surplus–style backpack hooked over one arm. Between the long, wispy hair erupting in wild tangles from beneath the old baseball cap pulled low over his eyes and his scraggly beard, he was more apparition than man in the dim light.
One bony hand repeatedly plucked at the buttons of his jacket while his head swiveled back and forth like a radar dish as if he were anxiously scanning the area for the fastest escape route. He gave Carrie a furtive glance, then dropped his gaze and shuffled his feet.
“Dante, this is Carrie. She works for us.” Logan spoke distinctly, slowly. “She’s a good lady.”
“I’m glad to meet you, Dante.” Carrie stepped forward and offered her hand, but the man took a wary step backward. “Nice evening, isn’t it?”
He craned his head in an odd motion, met her eyes for a split second—probably incredulous because she couldn’t have come up with a more inane thing to say—and then he spun on his heel and loped off into the darkness.
“That went well,” she muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment. “I said ten words and sent him running.”
Logan chuckled. “Actually, itdidgo well. He hung around long enough to meet you before taking off, and that doesn’t always happen...or so we’ve heard. He’s shy as a wild deer around most folks.”
She stared into the gloom, trying to make out his retreating form. “I feel sorry for him.”
Penny nodded. “Me, too. But we heard that he ran away from several facilities over the years, and refused psych treatment. I guess he’s living the life he wants.”
Carrie hesitated. “Does he show up around here often?”
“Nope...maybe just two or three times during the two years we’ve been here. Right, Logan?”
“At the most. And once was just a glimpse.”
“Maybe he could’ve been the prowler I saw.”
“Like we said, he doesn’t come around here much,” Penny said. “He avoids civilization. So the likelihood that you saw him is pretty slim.”
