Dangerous Game by Lyn Cote

Author:Lyn Cote
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2007-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Just off the highway, Grey drove up to Chaney’s black pickup at the mouth of the old logging road into the forest. Later he’d visit Elsie, who was still recovering from her heart episode in the hospital. After parking the Chrysler off the road, he got out and wondered again why Chaney had called him to come here. He’d only asked for Grey’s help, told him what to bring and where to meet him. Was Chaney irritated at him for interfering with Rae-Jean?

Or had Chaney somehow heard rumors about Grey’s supper with Trish in her trailer? Surely Trish wouldn’t have told her brother about that. Had anyone seen his Chrysler there? Or had Chaney just listened to gossip connecting Grey and Trish?

Getting out of his pickup, Chaney walked toward him, his hand held out. Chaney, like Grey, had dressed for a hard workout on a clear fall morning.

Still uncertain, Grey shook Chaney’s hand, and then let go. Keeping a healthy distance, he propped his hands on his hips. “So what do you need me to do?”

Red hair stuck out from under Chaney’s ball cap, bright in the sunlight. Chaney rubbed his unshaven chin. He avoided a straight answer. “I’ve got my truck, my splitter and my come-along. I could do this alone, but it goes faster with two. Did you bring your chain saw?”

Grey nodded. Why aren’t you answering my question?

“Then get it out and climb into the truck with me. We’ll drive in as far as we can on this old road and see what we can find.”

Grey returned to the Chrysler, opened the trunk and pulled out his battered chain saw. Well, if Chaney called me out here to start something, I’m at least armed. Soon, the two men in the pickup bounced over the uneven grass road. In years past, heavy-laden logging trucks had carved deep ruts into the sandy earth.

“Logging companies and some private individuals donated all this forested land to this forest conservancy so it could be kept in its natural state,” Chaney said, pointing up one finger from the steering wheel. “But they let the food pantry volunteers harvest fallen trees for firewood for needy folks to heat their homes over the winter.”

So that was it. But why me? Grey nodded, recalling something. “Aunt Elsie says she’s been one the recipients of this wood.” Guilt over being incarcerated for seven years and unable to help her sank sharp teeth into him. “She only has her social security to live on, you know,” he muttered.

“Yeah, some winters are colder and heating costs…” Chaney lifted his shoulders.

“It’s good work,” Grey said, hoping that Chaney’s reason for asking him for help had just been given in full. He hoped Chaney didn’t have a secondary agenda. But something made Grey suspect there might be more to come.

Chaney glanced at him. “Good for the people. Good for the forest. Keeps it freer of fuel for forest fires. Here we are.” Chaney parked the truck and they both got out and walked to the back of the pickup.

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