THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5 by Steven Konkoly

Author:Steven Konkoly [Konkoly, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-05T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

EVENT +56:33

Limerick, Maine

Eli Russell sat in the front seat of the York County Sherriff’s Department cruiser with “Deputy Brown,” looking for the entrance described by good folks on the other side of Gelder Pond. Standing in one of their backyards and surveying the eastern shoreline, he’d spotted a lone dock nearly halfway across. Three-quarters of the way down Gelder Pond Lane, he pounded the dashboard.

“Turn the car around, Jeff. We must have missed it. No mailbox. No nothing.”

Jeffrey Brown, recently promoted to squad leader after the public execution of the previous one, had proven to be more than amenable to Eli’s plan for him to impersonate a sheriff’s deputy, never asking a single question about the three bullet holes in the left side of the cruiser or the missing rear driver’s side window. He didn’t even have a problem wearing the officer’s blood-speckled duty belt over jeans and a tan short-sleeve, button-down shirt. In fact, he looked enthused and oddly proud when Eli wiped the blood off the slain deputy’s badge and pinned it to his left pocket.

“There it is,” said Brown, stopping the car.

Eli peered through Brown’s window at the unbroken foliage, finally noticing the faint gravel path beyond a young spruce. He stepped out of the cruiser into the downpour and approached the tree. A four-foot-wide, one-foot-deep band of dirt and forest floor debris had been strewn across the gravel road leaving Gelder Pond Lane, blending one side of the driveway with the other. A common spruce tree, roughly eight feet tall, stood in the middle of the dirt, secured upright by green paracord, extending to stronger trees on each side of the entrance. He kicked at the base, expecting it to give way, but it remained firmly in place. A quick inspection showed that a two by four had been driven at least a foot into the driveway and screwed to the back of the tree base.

Clever. Clever.

He cut the paracord with his knife and pushed the tree toward the side of the driveway, letting the weight and leverage of the spruce snap the two by four. Soaked and fuming with anger, he kicked at the shard of wood sticking up from the faux forest floor until he was satisfied that the splinters couldn’t possibly penetrate the cruiser’s tire.

“Up to the house,” he said, slamming the door shut and wiping his face.

Brown didn’t say a word, which was one of several reasons Eli felt the young man had a promising future in the Maine Liberty Militia. His usual driver would have made some inane comment about the rain or whatever trivial detail suited his need to run his piehole in overdrive. Eli had extended that hole all the way through the back of his head when he kept bringing up the “coincidence” of two of Eli’s men being killed in the same day. “Ain’t that an unbelievable coincidence?” “You’d swear this was Friday the 13th, if you didn’t know it was Tuesday,” and on and on, until he’d told the idiot to pull over so he could take a piss.

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