Race with Death by Gilbert Morris

Author:Gilbert Morris [Gilbert Morris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781441239938
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2012-12-16T16:00:00+00:00

11

An Unexpected Treasure

* * *

No one had put up a marker to identify the spot where Cory Louvier’s body had been found. As Dani drove carefully along the abandoned logging road, she tried to keep one eye on the map, while at the same time looking for one of the landmarks she’d been given by a reluctant sergeant at the Baton Rouge police station.

Taking her eyes off the road, she dropped one front wheel into a cavernous rut left by a logging truck, the blow snapping her jaw shut with a distinct click. She gunned the engine and the Cougar roared, shattering the silence of the grove. A flock of doves flew up, their long slender bodies and delicate necks outlined against the cool blue of the sky. Gaining control of the bucking car, Dani wound around between stands of second growth pine and scrub oak. At one point, a deer crossing in front of her gave one startled look, then exploded into that most graceful of all motions as it seemed to alternate between an earthbound run and a floating glide that quickly took it out of sight.

The road narrowed until the Cougar had to squeeze through the scraping branches, and Dani wondered who would back up if she encountered another vehicle. But none came, and finally she reached one of the landmarks the sergeant had given her.

A rough wooden bridge spanned a small creek, and on a tree beside the small structure, a peeling sign hung by one corner from a thick sweet gum tree. The metal sign was so badly peppered with bullet holes that it took Dani a few moments to decipher the words—No Hunting!

Dani eyed the bridge nervously, for the bulk of the boards that made up the structure had warped so badly that the ends had wrenched the spikes free. On the far side of the bridge, she saw that the road forked, and remembering the instruction she’d received, “Take the right fork, the one less travelled,” brought the line by Frost to her mind: Two roads diverged in a yellow wood. . . . I took the one less travelled by.

Carefully she eased the Cougar over the bridge and was relieved when she reached the other side. Just as the rear tires rolled off the rough planks, she caught a glimpse of movement to her left. Instantly she turned her head, leaned forward, and reached back for the .38 she wore.

But she relaxed at once, for what she had seen was a young boy, no more then ten or twelve years old. He was sitting on the stump of what had been a huge tree, watching her carefully. He held a long cane pole, and a red and white cork bobbed rhythmically in the dark water to the beat of the small stream.

Dani hesitated, then stopped the car. Cutting off the engine, she got out and walked to the side of the road, then spoke casually. “Catching any fish?”

The boy was very dark of skin, and had the blackest possible hair.

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