CAUGHT IN THE LINE OF FIRE

“Wait just a second,” Kevin said, the smile gone. “Let’s not go rushing off blindly.” He looked at Josh. “You coming with us?” “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.” He wiped some white goo from the corners of his mouth. “But first I’ve got to clean the shit from my teeth. The Fifth Cavalry has ridden through my mouth and stopped along the way to relieve the horses.” He gave his head a shake to emphasize the point. “My first guess would be that Cliff probably missed and was too excited to jack another shell into the chamber for a second shot. “Give me a minute and I’ll be ready.” “That’s a possibility, too,” Kevin said. “While you’re doing your morning ablutions, we’ll make some sandwiches and refill our thermos with coffee. No sense roaming through the woods all afternoon on an empty stomach.” He patted his rotund belly as he said this. “A couple of more minutes won’t make any difference on this end. If he really is tracking a deer, we may have a few miles to walk.” Like Cliff, Kevin’s lunch was gone long before the morning sun had risen high in the sky. Victor hesitated. Kevin scowled at him. “Get in here. Get the butter out of the fridge. This won’t take long.” He took several slices of whole grain bread from a bag on the table and spread them out ready to be slathered with filling. Chapter 2 “The clearing is down this road.” Kevin pointed to a rutted opening in the trees. Deep tire tracks from a skidder scarred the landscape. “Looks like they dragged the trees out too early in the spring. The road must have been nothing but a quagmire.” Josh stepped up on the hump between the tire tracks. “The almighty dollar always trumps the environment. How long ago did you say this area was cut over?” “It was freshly cut when I acquired the camp. That would be about four years ago. The young maple shoots are great feed for the deer. Did I tell you I took one from here last year?” Josh and Victor groaned. “I guess I did. Derrick Watts got one the year before. In fact, he tipped me off to this clearing. He’s the one who built the tree stand.” Kevin snickered aloud. “I’m talking about the previous owner. Tried to buy the place back but I told him no deal. Told him he could call me anytime he wanted to come hunting here and I would see if I could work him in. That pissed him off big time. Last year he didn’t come back and I haven’t heard from him yet this year. When he was leaving the last time, I was changing the name over the door from Derrick’s Hideaway to Four Eights.” Josh had heard the story before. Kevin never tired of retelling it. “There’s a rumour that Derrick found God. Doesn’t play poker any more. Doesn’t hunt. His lawyer calls me a couple of times a year to remind me the offer is still standing. If the rumours are true, I don’t know why he still wants to buy the place.” Kevin shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll never sell. As Victor said earlier this morning, this is like owning a piece of paradise.” Victor surveyed the splendor around him drinking in the beauty one more time. “It is a great place to recharge your batteries. How much did Derrick offer?” The realtor in him couldn’t be held down. To him, that question was the natural extension of the conversation. “Too much. The price shows his desperation to reclaim all his hard work. The lodge, as he calls it, is totally winterized, has a propane fridge, stove and furnace along with the quietest propane generator I’ve ever heard. Somehow or other he dragged a proper septic tank up here and buried it. Sits on six acres with a guaranteed right -of-way. I love it. My wife, on the other hand, hates it. Says it’s in the middle of nowhere and that I spend too much time up here. If she knew how much money I’d turned down from Watts, she’d have given me the John the Baptist treatment.” Victor and Josh looked at him questioningly. “You know, had my head served on a platter.” Both men laughed. They knew Kevin’s wife wanted him to get rid of the place. She had even asked Victor if he knew anyone interesed in buying it. He hadn’t taken her seriously, but good salesman that he was, he kept an ear open for any interest. “The pastor of my church, Pastor Dave, mentioned that we might be acquiring a place like this as a retreat,” Victor said. “I wonder if Derrick Watts is a member of our congregation.” Kevin put out his hand to stay their progress. “Cliff should be just over this rise. We’d better announce we’re coming or he might shoot us. If Josh is right and Cliff didn’t get a deer earlier this morning, he’ll be getting pretty anxious by now. Ready to shoot anything that moves.” He put his hand up to his mouth. “Cliff, don’t shoot. It’s us. We have food.” Victor laughed. “That will get his attention. I bet he ate his lunch before eight o’clock.” Kevin gave him a semi-smile. “Cliff. Cliff, we’re coming into the clearing. Don’t shoot.” He waited for a response. When none came, he shouted again. “Cliff, answer me.” “Let’s get up there,” Josh said. “Just exercise a little caution when you step into the clearing.” They hurried to the top of the rise and stopped to study the surroundings. Kevin knew exactly where the hunting perch was mounted. He immediately spotted the fluorescent orange jacket. Even among the blazing glory of God’s autumn colours, man’s testament to paranoia stood out like a lighthouse beacon. The material was designed to be seen at a distance of three miles. From 125 feet, it slapped them in the face. “Over there, on the ground.” Josh turned to the direction indicated. “Christ almighty. He must have fallen out of the tree.” He sprinted towards the orange lump on the ground. The tangled dead falls grabbed at his ankles. He stumbled forward. By sheer force of will he regained his balance before falling and resumed his headlong dash. The other two men followed him cautiously picking their way across the rough, uneven terrain. Josh got to the sprawling body a few steps ahead of the others. He stopped short when he spotted the red scar in the centre of Cliff’s chest. All the colour drained from his face and his legs started to tremble. “Oh my Jesus,” he said. “Cliff’s been shot.” Josh lowered himself to the ground, covered his face with his hands and took three long, deep breaths. By then Kevin had drawn up beside him. His eyes captured the sight of the blood on Cliff’s chest. “Oh, shit,” he said. Slowly, he covered the remaining few steps to where Cliff lay. He leaned forward and slid two fingers under Cliff’s head covering to check for a carotid pulse. The flesh at the open neck was already cool to the touch. He moved his fingers to another spot and tried again before looking back at the others and shaking his head. He detected no blood surging from the heart to the brain. Kevin backed away to where Josh and Victor were now standing. His face was ashen. “He’s been dead for awhile. He feels cold.” Kevin’s eyes swept the clearing. He came up empty. “I guess we’ve got to contact the police, somehow. Cell phones don’t work up here.” The colour had returned to Josh’s face. He followed Kevin’s gaze around the clearing. “What time did you say you heard the shot?” Victor looked at his watch. “Somewhere around eight. We thought he had gotten lucky.” “You were wrong there. Whoever did this would be long gone by now. That was four hours ago.” Josh looked back at Cliff. “Looks like the shot went right through his heart. Probably was dead before he hit the ground. What do you think? Has to be an accident.” Suddenly, without warning, he could feel the contents of his stomach churning. An acidic taste hit the back of his throat. He turned from the others just in time and vomited over the ground. The stench of stale alcohol permeated the fresh forest air causing the others to screw up their noses. A sheen of perspiration popped out across Josh’s forehead. He wiped his mouth with the back of his coat sleeve. “Sorry,” he said, “last night’s whisky is catching up to me.” Victor looked squeamish, as w