Lethally Logged by Amber Boffin

Author:Amber Boffin [Boffin, Amber]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781775102854
Publisher: Avenoak
Published: 2019-07-18T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

When the doorbell of her photo studio rang, Maggie anticipated she would be face to face with the forester with the mullet—Chainsaw, as Barrie had called him—having forgotten the name at the bottom of the email. Instead, it was a man she placed in his late fifties, from his wrinkles and thinning hair. He had a circular beard that accentuated his large mouth. He smiled at her, his eyes moving around as if cameras were hidden behind them, recording everything.

Unlike most clients, he didn’t seem interested in talking to her about her photography experience but instead was eyeing the studio and seemed eager to move to the far end of it. He was carrying a tiny Chihuahua, not the first breed of dog she would have imagined him with. When he put his hand on its face to cuddle it, it growled and gnawed at his fingers.

“Quite a character, your dog!” Maggie laughed. “Come on in.” She looked up at the dark sky, and a drop of water fell on the tip of her nose. “It’s nice and dry in here. Let me take your coat. Have you come straight from the logging camp?”

She helped him remove his soaking jacket, not a lot of sawdust and muck, she observed, for a worker’s jacket. He shook her hand. His hand was clean and soft, without any calluses, also not what you would expect for a forester. He put the dog into her arms without warning and walked around her studio.

“It’s for my wife. I want to surprise her with a portrait of…” He seemed to hesitate, as if he’d forgotten the name of the dog.

Maggie glanced at the dog’s collar. His name was engraved on a large tag. “Tiger?” She stroked his head gently. He appeared to relax in her arms and gave out a deep sigh, resting his little head on her forearm. A far cry from the tension she’d seen in him at first.

“Tiger, yes.” He had stopped in front of a picture of a massive old white pine. “Good picture. Where was this taken?”

Having heard from Adam that this tree was likely over three hundred years old and had miraculously escaped the saws of the first settlers, Maggie had vowed to keep its location secret. “Somewhere in the States. Maine. Have you encountered such magnificent trees in the last decade?”

Without answering her question, he picked up her camera. “Nice equipment.”

At the sight of him flicking through her pictures, Maggie placed the little dog on the mat she had put out as backdrop for the pictures and took it from his hands. “Yes, it is. What kind of picture did you have in mind for Tiger?”

He shrugged and smiled. “I leave it up to the expert.”

“Your wife might like a portrait of you holding Tiger.”

“No, no, I don’t think she wants to see more of me. She likes her pooch.”

He was pacing up and down, poking his nose around as if he were searching for something. Tiger always tucked his tail between his legs as soon as he came near him, seemingly out of fear.

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