Timberline Trail (21 page)

Paul peered intently at Jon and then looked wildly from T
ia to Jon. “You slept with this guy?” he asked angrily.

“We were trapped in a cave together,” said Tia wearily, and
sank upon Paul’s vacated log. “And just where have you been for the last two days? We were worried sick about you.”

Paul turned his back to the fire and sighed tiredly. Tia could now see that his
crimson parka and jeans were crumpled and muddy and his hands red and chapped from the cold. The dirty red ski cap had a large rip in the crown with an unraveled wool strand dangling over his ear. His exhaustion evident, he raised his hands in surrender.

“Look, why don’t we just call a truce for the next few minutes. You got any chow?”

Jon nodded incredulously. “So now I get to fix you something while you figure out a fine story to explain where you’ve been the past two days.”

Jon
angrily opened two tins of rich chili and dumped them into a large pot which he suspended over the fire. Jon’s movements were jerky, highly unusual for a man who always seemed so sure of himself.

Tia rubbed
her eyes wearily and pondered the two men. Paul settled down upon the log, chaffing his hands before the hot flames as if he could never get them warm enough. His concerns about Jon caused a horrible knot to form in her stomach. Tia had thought she’d meant something special to the tall quiet man and felt immensely violated after learning he had ulterior motives.

She’
d trusted Jon and that trust had been hard won. All her life she’d wanted to be loved just for her, not for the money or influence her rich family could wield. She suddenly felt so tired; tired of being rich, tired of being the target of unscrupulous men, but especially tired of always having to remain on her guard. She’d wanted Jon to be the one; had needed him to love her and a despair she’d never experienced before settled over her whole being. Aware tears rose close to the surface, Tia turned her attention away from the shuttered man who so angrily stirred their chili and eyed her ex-fiancé instead.

Tia had
always prided herself on the belief that she’d figured the unscrupulous Paul out. After observing his vain and superficial nature and noting how his whole consciousness seemingly surrounded making more money and keeping his body fit and tanned, she’d felt parting ways was the wisest thing to do. She’d always felt Paul’s art had been simply a means for him to fit into the LA social scene and infiltrate the in-crowd. But now she wasn’t so sure. The fact that Paul hadn’t realized her identity at the start of their relationship and had actually hired a private investigator to prove
she
wasn’t a gold-digger was highly disconcerting.

Tia
had summed the whole façade of their pathetic relationship and Paul’s less-than-enthusiastic attendance to her as the result of his affair with another woman; one with money. Paul didn’t want her anymore since the other woman now provided all the money and connections Paul needed.

H
is timing couldn’t have been worse. She’d needed support and courage to help deal with the loss of a friend as well as the awful publicity her father and uncle now received at the hands of the press but Paul had let her down. She’d had to escape after Andrew’s brutal murder and reassess her life in Alaska’s wilds. Unfortunately, her safe haven in the thick pine forest had become just another prison, its natural walls breached by even more uncaring and self-serving men.

Tia watched numbly as the chili steam
ed and Paul slowly thawed out. Jon added more logs to the now roaring blaze and turned over some thick sausage he added to a small skillet. The green beans and chili were nearly ready and the smell made her stomach growl, but she couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to eat. Jon ladled out the chili, handing a huge bowl of beans and juicy sausage to the ravenous Paul, who didn’t wait to see if his comrades ate theirs. So much for his perfect LA manners. Tia picked at the tin plate in front of her, noticing Jon barely touched his as well. They both waited for Paul to speak and once his first rush of hunger was appeased, Paul set down his plate to begin his narrative.

Paul
discovered the main road to the cabin easily enough, but had been delayed by a logging truck at the turn-off to the main highway for over fifteen minutes. The boy Tory had been lucky; catching up with the Ford pickup by using his cross-country shortcuts. Paul reluctantly hauled the snowmobile into the truck bed and hustled the near-frozen boy inside the cab. Tory’d been talkative, chatting about some fresh frozen peaches his mother Nancy had saved for Tia to enjoy. The boy had gone on and on about school and his job at the filling station. Paul had suffered the boy’s nonstop chatter because he was aware that the teenager’s knowledge of the terrain and weather might prove useful since the sky blackened treacherously. He promised Tory that once they’d reached Tia’s cabin, he’d call Tory’s mother to reassure Nancy her boy had caught up with Paul.

Close to the cabin
, on the turnoff to Bear Canyon, shots rang out. At first the whistling noises had resembled those loose pieces of gravel that kick up under tires. But seconds later another shell blasted through the rear windshield, causing the white Ford to lose control. The heavy truck careened first into a large cottonwood before plummeting over the embankment. As bushes and trees crashed by, Paul had valiantly, or so he stated in his usual boastful way, tried to steer the large pickup out of danger as it crashed down the hill.

At one point he became aware of
the snowmobile sailing past him and realized the passenger door had flown open. He sensed Tory screaming but could only focus upon the large tree rushing to greet him. Tia found herself restless at his colorful recital of the facts. It was clear that enough time and distance had elapsed to remove any terror from Paul’s near brush with death since he continued as if the events were simply an everyday occurrence for him. One, of course, he’d handled all with style and courage. Paul paused and forked up another mouthful of succulent sausage before continuing where he’d left off.

The tree had
reared up to meet him, Paul slamming headlong into the steering wheel. The gash near his nose was evidence of his near miss with death. He’d also scraped and bruised his legs, but in that split second before the impact he realized Tory had escaped, tumbling headlong into snow-covered underbrush. Paul couldn’t recall much over the next few minutes, but instinctively realized the truck could burst into flames at any moment. He recalled fishing around the vinyl seats for one of his two backpacks, managing to retrieve a dark blue one, as well as grabbing a heavy torch. He’d stumbled out of the passenger seat, unable to pry open his own door and headed away from the truck as fast as his limping tortured pace could take him.

A gun lev
eled at his head stopped his wanderings. A heavyset man with a French-Canadian accent hustled him to Tia’s cabin and he recognized the man from the photo his PI friend had flashed him only a few weeks earlier. It soon became clear the trio waited for Tia to return to the cabin because they had some ‘questions’ for her. Paul memorized the features of the three men. The blonde handsome man called Steve was almost hysterical about the way things had gotten out of hand. The aloof man in the John Deere hat remained fairly silent, allowing the French-Canadian called Mike to speak for him. His sinister quietness caused Paul to fear him more than the others since it was evident he was the brains behind the trio. The third man’s name was never mentioned.

The men tied him up and dumped him on the huge bed in the master bedroom.
Because Paul suspected a concussion he tried to stay awake but finally dozed off, not awakening until morning’s dim light filtered through the cabin. Fed a simple breakfast of cereal and a lone apple, Steve and Mike questioned him profusely, querying him about his current relationship with Tia as well as her father and uncle. Once again the quiet gray-eyed man didn’t speak. During the whole interrogation he seemed to be making up his mind about something, and Paul suspected his days were numbered. Feeling stronger, but still woozy, he planned his escape and it was then a lucky break fell into his lap; Tia returned home to check on her cabin!

As she approached
, Paul took what he believed was his only chance and risked everything by yelling out a warning to Tia. All three men’s attention focused upon capturing Tia and as the first two rushed headlong through the door, Paul managed to knock the silent man off his feet and scoot for the French doors in the master bedroom. Amidst gunfire he plunged headlong into the forest. From the frenzied shouting and shooting, his first instinct was to head completely in the other direction. He soon became disorientated, wandering for nearly an hour in a painful haze. He recalled calling to the boy until he was hoarse but after hearing crashing in the ferns, witnessed a purple parka flashing by. His common sense told him to shut up and to duck behind a large boulder.

“So what did you do then?” asked Jon, urging the younger man to continue with his narrative.

“My first idea was to
return to the truck. My clothing wasn’t sturdy enough so by the time I made it back to the Ford I was nearly frozen. When I got inside the truck, I realized someone had already been there, because my gear was gone. The inside of the truck was frigid because of the broken windshield.

“You were lucky you
didn’t stay at the truck,” Jon said, his face impassive as he watched the younger man relate his tale.

“I figured it wouldn’t be wise
. My next inclination was to try and find the road. By this time it was about nine thirty in the morning. I’d noticed from signs while heading toward your house that some vacation cabins were located near someplace called Bear Lake. I thought heading there might be my best chance since it was only about five and a half miles away. In my naiveté I thought I could jog it in an hour. Bitterly cold by this time, my saving grace was that they’d allowed me to sleep in my jacket. I’d stuffed my thin gloves in the pocket after being taking to the cabin, but must admit by the time I hit Bear Lake I was frozen to the bone.”

“Your jogging saved you,” stated Jon wryly.

“And when you got there the cabins were empty?” interrupted Tia. “They’re supposed to close for the winter on the first of September.”

“Not only was there no one at the cabins, but t
he buildings were shut up tighter than a prison. I managed to break one of the windows of a cabin near the lake, but it was freezing inside. I’d noticed an office on my way into the camp, so I headed over there. I’m going to have some pretty hefty bills to pay someone when all this is over,” stated Paul bitterly.

“Tory camped that night at the lake as well.
You probably only missed him by a couple of hours,” said Tia quietly.

“Damn! He did?
Just my luck. After I broke into the office I managed to find a few supplies. You know simple things like matches, fire starters, and most importantly, a compass. There was also a locked cabinet with some supplies for the owners. I discovered some long underwear which I donned under my jeans, socks, a worn-out flannel shirt with paint spots on it and this raggedy old hat. Even though I tried several times, I couldn’t get any electricity to come on. I still stayed there several hours, eating some beans out a can and contemplating what I should do next.

I figured my best bet was to keep moving and I decided
to aim for Timberline, taking it in short spurts. After nearly an hour I saw what appeared to be a clearing off a steep driveway. I turned down it and low and behold, found this camp.

It didn’t take me long to realize it was Jon S
imons’ place. I slept here last night, eating what food I could find and making a fire. I broke the lock on the trunk in the far tent and found the handgun and managed to finally get a decent night’s sleep in that mummy bag of yours. I was actually hoping you’d come back,” said Paul pointedly to Jon. “I figured that even if you were a criminal type, you probably wouldn’t leave me out here to die in the snow. Upon hearing your snowmobile arrive I decided to skedaddle to the trees. You both looked a little worse for wear and I wasn’t sure if Tia was your prisoner or a friend but realized you were all the cavalry I was going to get. The rest of the story you know.”

Both Tia and Jon
remained quietly pensive for a few long minutes as they pondered Paul’s narrative while he sipped his strong coffee. Jon was the first to stir, placing his own cup of coffee on the snow behind him.

“Where’d you get the handcuffs?”

“I told you, from the PI Kenny.”

“And Steve and the Canadian didn’t take them from you?”

“I was so woozy—I don’t think they even bothered to frisk me. They were shoved deep down inside my back pocket.”

Jon appeared skeptical. “So you stayed the entire ni
ght here and didn’t discover my snowmobile?”

Paul jerked upright. “What?” he stated, incred
ulous.

“It’s right there behind the far tent.” Jon
pointed to a small clearing beyond the campground.

“If I’d known that I’d have headed out a long time ago.”

“I’m sure you would have,” said Jon, disgusted. He glanced at Tia who refused to meet his eyes, recognizing she waited to hear what Paul wished to say to her privately. He decided to give her that opportunity.

“I think I’ll check on the snowmobile and gas it up since one of us needs to head back into Timberline,” stated Jon
, demanding that Tia look at him. “I’m sure you and your ex have some things to talk about.”