In the Woods

by Merry Jones

  Ranger Daniels finally asked Harper to escort Angela away from the campsite so he could speak to Stan and Cindi uninterrupted. Harper led her back to where Hank was standing, but kept a distance from her. Angela seemed altered. Her features had twisted, eyes narrowed, lips curled like a snake. Sweat beaded her forehead. Venom radiated from her pores. How was it that Stan and Angela had ever been married? She couldn’t imagine that they’d ever loved each other. Respected and trusted each other. How had their relationship turned so ugly? And how deep did the ugliness go? Deep enough for murder?

  Harper eyed Stan and Cindi, their weapon cases under the canopy. With Angela beside her, sputtering bitterness, she gazed out toward the bog. It would be easy enough to dump a body in that dark water. She watched the surface, imagined a body floating just underneath, half-expected it to pop up and reveal itself. When Hank came up behind her and put a hand on her back, she spun around reflexively, her arm back and ready to swing.

  Daniels divided them up. Hank was to keep an eye on Angela, and Harper on Cindi while he had a word alone with Stan.

  Harper took Cindi to the folding chairs under the canopy. ‘Aren’t you cold?’ Harper nodded at Cindi’s bare legs.

  ‘Me? No. I’m always hot.’ She curled into a chair. ‘Say. Would you like a beer? We have a ton of them—’

  ‘No. No, thanks. But you go ahead.’ Actually, Harper wanted several. She was tired, worried about Philip Russo. And the exchange between Stan and Angela had been jarring. Was it possible that Stan had done something to his ex-wife’s new husband?

  ‘No, I’ll wait for Stan.’ She looked at him, talking to Daniels. Then she leaned forward, whispering to Harper. ‘How do you know her?’ She nodded toward Angela.

  ‘Me? Oh, I don’t.’

  ‘Really? So what are you doing – are you with the ranger?’

  ‘No. Angela came to our camp this morning, when she couldn’t find her husband. We’re just helping out.’

  Cindi nodded. ‘That’s your husband? He’s cute.’

  Harper had to smile. Hank was ‘cute’? She thought of him as rugged or powerful. Maybe even animal. But cute? ‘Thank you.’ She felt the need to add, ‘So’s yours.’

  ‘Yeah. Stan’s a sweet guy. I don’t know how he and her ever got together. She’s a witch. With a “b”.’

  Harper didn’t answer. Daniels and Stan had joined them under the canopy. Daniels took the weapons cases, carried them out in front of the tent.

  ‘Thing is, why is she acting so surprised that we were here? We’re here most every weekend. She knows that.’

  Harper was watching the men, wasn’t paying attention.

  ‘It’s Stan’s spot. The same spot she and him used to camp at. For like nine years. So why was she acting like she didn’t expect him to be here?’

  ‘Wait. She used to camp here?’

  ‘You bet. Stan loves the bog. And this little nook is his own personal camping place. Nobody else even knows it’s here. He camps here just about every weekend in the fall – with me or by himself.’

  ‘Angela knew that?’

  Cindi nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. She wants to make trouble for Stan. What she said before about that restraining order? She made stuff up about him and said he’d stalked her and threatened her, that kind of crap. She actually had a court order saying he couldn’t come near her, which he was only too happy to obey. He was never bothering her. She did it out of spite, just because she can’t stand that we’re together.’ Cindi paused, blew a bubble with her wad of gum. Popped it.

  Daniels opened one of the cases, removed the rifle. Harper watched, thought it looked like a bolt-action Beretta. Daniels checked it. Talked to Stan. Took a few boxes of thirty-caliber bullets out of the case.

  Across the campsite, Hank and Angela were drinking water. Angela was talking, gesturing. Hank nodding, tolerating. Harper watched, trying to be objective. Was Hank ‘cute’? Maybe, in a rough, grizzly-bear-like way. Even so, she was still annoyed with him. Wait. Why again? She tried to remember.

  ‘Okay.’ Cindi sounded resigned. ‘To be fair, it’s not all her fault. We used to be friends, her and me. So she blames me for them breaking up, but really, I wasn’t the reason. They were done; I was just the final blow. And honestly? When Stan told me she got married again, we were ecstatic. We thought she’d finally leave us alone. With a new husband, maybe she’d have better things to do than harassing us.’

  ‘When did she get married?’

  ‘Oh, way before we did. We got married eight months ago last week. Angela? Stan told me about it maybe a couple months before that. I didn’t ever meet the guy, though. Never even knew his name until just now. Phil?’

  So that would make it a year or so? Maybe less? Angela and Phil were still newly-weds. Harper tried to piece together what she was hearing. To make sense of it. Why had Angela brought Phil hunting in the same area as her ex-husband’s campsite? And if she’d known all along that Stan would be camping there, why had she acted so surprised to find him? Another question tickled her mind, but she didn’t form it because Daniels interrupted her thoughts, raising his voice. She looked, saw him arguing with Stan.

  ‘I told you I have no idea.’ Stan put his hands up.

  ‘How about your wife?’

  ‘My wife didn’t either. We’ve been together all day.’

  Cindi sat up straight. ‘What’s wrong, hon?’ she called. ‘Ranger, you want to talk to me?’

  Daniels turned to face them. ‘Ma’am.’ He towered over them and his face was grave. ‘Have you fired this weapon recently?’

  ‘No, sir. Haven’t taken it out of the case since we got here.’

  He looked at Harper. ‘I have to call this in.’

  ‘Hold on,’ Stan shouted. ‘Call what in? It’s no crime to have a weapon. It’s hunting season. I’m here to hunt.’

  ‘But you just told me that you haven’t fired this gun.’

  ‘Because I haven’t.’

  Angela bounced up and rushed to join them, Hank at her heels. ‘See? They shot him. They must have shot him – where’s his body? What did you do with him?’

  ‘Stop.’ Hank grabbed her shoulders. ‘Just hold still and hush.’

  Angela squirmed, trying to free herself, but she didn’t make a sound.

  ‘I don’t see what the problem is.’ Stan faced Daniels.

  ‘Okay, I’ll explain it. The problem is that we have the body of a man who’s been shot, ammunition that’s the same caliber as the fragment we found with his body, a missing man that you’ve had some problems with, and a rifle that’s been fired even though you say it hasn’t.’

  The blood drained from Stan’s face. ‘But …’ He looked at Cindi. ‘It hasn’t been fired.’

  Cindi shook her head, agreeing. ‘We don’t know anything about a shooting or her husband. Really. Stan’s been with me non-stop since we got here.’

  Daniels looked at Stan, then Cindi. ‘Really? Non-stop?’

  Cindi flushed. ‘Yes, really. The only time he’s left my sight was to go take a piss in the woods.’

  Daniels puckered his lips, then turned to Hank. ‘Would you and your wife be kind enough to keep the peace while I radio the police?’

  ‘The police? Why?’ Stan persisted. ‘We didn’t do anything.’

  Cindi ran to him and held on. ‘What’s going on, Stan? Does he think you shot Angela’s husband?’

  Harper suggested that they all go sit down, and Hank herded them under the canopy.

  Angela stayed back, picking mud from her cuticles, watching the captain make his call. Harper looked at her, thought she saw a hint of a smile.

  Cindi wouldn’t let go of Stan. ‘Should we call a lawyer, Stan? What’s he telling the police? This is crazy. So what if your gun’s been fired? People come here to hunt. Everybody fires their rifles. Maybe you forgot you shot at something. Maybe when you were cleaning it. So what if you did? That’s not against the law.’

  Stan let her cling
to him, but he didn’t say anything. His face was grim, his eyes set on Angela. Harper watched him, the quiet sizzle of his gaze. He sat calmly, his body relaxed, but his eyes glowed like hot coals. What would happen if Stan let go and released that hot anger? Would he get violent? Maybe kill?

  Harper sat on a folding chair beside Hank, thinking about what might push someone to murder. Jealousy? Betrayal? Deceit? All of that was present among Angela, Stan, Phil and Cindi. But it all emanated from Angela and Stan, the unhealed wounds of their marriage. Harper wondered about healing. If she and Hank got divorced and then remarried – no, her stomach flipped at the very thought. She hated Hank’s new wife, hated Hank for being happy without her. She turned to look at Hank. Took his hand and squeezed. Was relieved that he squeezed back.

  Cindi was still talking when Ranger Daniels got off his radio.

  ‘Ma’am,’ he addressed Cindi, ‘I could hear you talking the whole time I was trying to speak to Captain Slader. Let me be clear: no one’s accusing you or your husband of anything. The captain just needs to come have a look at that rifle and talk to the two of you. He’ll probably want you to come back to my office to answer some questions.’

  ‘Why? We don’t know anything,’ Cindi insisted.

  ‘She’s lying, Ranger,’ Angela said. ‘She’s a manipulative, scheming whore who’s not capable of telling the truth—’

  ‘Now, now,’ Daniels hands went up. ‘Let’s not start up again.’

  But Cindi bolted up, hissing. ‘Why can’t you just leave us alone, Angela?’

  ‘Me? Leave you alone? I think you’ve got it backwards. Ask your husband—’

  This time, Harper’s whistle was so harsh and shrill that it rattled their skulls.

  Daniels continued, uninterrupted. He told Stan and Cindi to stay at their campsite until the captain arrived. ‘Ordinarily, I’d wait here with you, but a man’s missing and daylight’s waning, and that takes priority.’

  ‘Fine,’ Stan agreed. ‘We’ll wait here.’

  Daniels apologized, explaining that, because of cuts in government funding, he didn’t have an assistant to help out. He appreciated their cooperation.

  ‘No problem.’ Stan stood. ‘But since you’re short-handed, maybe you’d want Cindi and me to help search.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Angela rushed at him. ‘You bet. You could help the search a lot because you probably know exactly where to look. Why don’t you save us time and just tell us where Phil is?’

  ‘Ma’am …’ Daniels began.

  ‘You’re sick, Angela.’ Stan’s voice was low, rumbling. ‘Get help.’

  ‘What did you do to him, Stan?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Cindi shrieked. ‘You’re obsessed with Stan, Angela. Why can’t you let go?’

  ‘Everyone, please. Calm down.’ Daniels raised his voice.

  ‘If anyone here’s obsessed, Cindi, it’s you. You wanted my house, my friends, my husband. Face it. You wanted to be me.’

  ‘I’d sooner be a cockroach.’

  Daniels turned to Harper, gave her a nod. She raised her fingers to her mouth, and inhaled, ready to whistle again.

  ‘EVERYONE SHUT UP!’

  The voice was thundering. Dangerous. And it came from Hank.

  Even the birds didn’t make a sound.

  Then, in a slow, gentle voice, Ranger Daniels asked Stan where his vehicle was parked. Stan told him that it was back at the campground.

  ‘I’ll need your keys.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Stan stuck his hands in his pockets, stood tall.

  ‘You’ll get them back after you talk to the captain.’

  ‘I told you we’d wait for him. Are you saying I’m lying?’

  Harper rolled her eyes. ‘He’s saying he needs your keys as insurance.’

  Stan unleashed a torrent of protests. ‘You have no right. This is a free country. You have no cause to take my keys or anything else. I haven’t done anything wrong. You’re violating my civil rights.’

  Daniels waited for Stan to stop. He checked his watch. ‘Sorry. Sun’s going to go soon and we got to move. I agree this is unconventional. But look at it from my point of view. I’ve got no way to guarantee that you’ll stay put. And I’ll remind you again: I have a missing man, a dead man, a bullet fragment that’s the same caliber as your ammunition, and a rifle that’s been fired that the owner says wasn’t fired, and that owner is someone who has conflicts with the wife of the missing man. I’d be remiss if I didn’t assure your presence for questioning. How do I know you won’t take off?’

  ‘Because I said I wouldn’t.’ Stan’s gaze was steady, aimed at Daniels’ eyes.

  For a long moment, the two men stared at each other, neither moving, neither talking. Cindi, Angela, Harper and Hank stood waiting. Finally, Stan sighed, reached into his vest pocket.

  ‘No, Stan.’ Cindi breathed. ‘Stand your ground.’

  Daniels took the keys. ‘You’ll get them back soon as Slader’s done with you.’

  ‘How could you do that?’ Cindi scolded. ‘He’s got no right.’

  Daniels gave Hank a radio. As planned earlier, the search team split up. Daniels and Angela headed north, Hank and Harper south. They were to meet up at sunset at the ranger’s office. If anyone found Phil, they were to get in touch by radio.

  As they left Stan and Cindi, Harper turned to say goodbye, but Cindi had gone into the tent and zipped it closed. Stan stood alone on a tarp, eyes on fire, watching Angela walk away.

  Hank’s brows were furrowed, his eyes on the trail. He was experienced in tracking, knew what to look for. In their hiking trips, he’d taught Harper what to do in case she got lost. The first rule, Phil had already broken. It was to stay put.

  Beyond that, a lost person was supposed to stomp as he walked, digging his feet in the ground, making clear prints. And he was supposed to leave a trail of personal objects, like pencils for example, pointing in the direction he was going.

  If Phil had followed these rules, they hadn’t seen any sign of it. Which would mean they were on the wrong path.

  Harper walked in silence, studying the path, looking for a pattern of dislodged leaves and gravel, or twigs broken from the weight of being stepped on. Footsteps, though, wouldn’t tell them anything. Any number of people might have walked there.

  ‘Phil,’ she called. ‘Philip Russo.’

  Nothing.

  They walked on. In the distance, someone fired a rifle. Twice. Probably hunting.

  Harper took Hank’s hand.

  ‘Do you think it’s just a coincidence?’ he asked.

  Harper knew what he meant. ‘The exes both being here? I doubt it. You?’

  ‘If Stan comes up here every weekend, and camps exactly where he used to camp with Angela, it seems like Angela would have had a pretty good idea where he’d be.’

  Harper nodded. ‘Then again, maybe she thought it was “their” spot. And that Stan wouldn’t go there now that they’re not together.’

  Hank didn’t answer.

  Harper called out Phil’s name again.

  Nothing.

  ‘Those two sure hate each other.’ Hank put his arm around Harper.

  ‘It’s hard to believe they were ever married.’ Harper looked up at him. ‘How did it get so nasty? I mean they used to love each other.’

  The arm tightened just a tad. ‘Maybe they never really did.’

  Harper thought about that, couldn’t imagine being married to someone she didn’t love. Her earlier doubts about Hank’s reasons for wanting to go camping seemed trivial now. She walked in step with him, her breathing in sync with his. Probably their hearts were beating together. Had Angela ever felt this linked to Stan?

  Hank pulled away, moved to the left. ‘What’s this?’ He pushed a vine away, revealing a KEEP OUT sign. It was attached to a vine-covered chain-link fence, topped with barbed wire.

  Harper looked beyond the fence, saw a field, a mound of rocks and dirt among the trees. She’d seen mounds shaped like that before, in the Midd
le East. They concealed bomb shelters or bunkers.

  ‘This doesn’t look right,’ Hank said.

  No, it didn’t.

  ‘If this area is off limits because of the pipeline, the sign would say so. It would be marked with an official logo. Same with the state. State signs are labeled.’

  But the sign looked generic. Had no logo, no official marking.

  Harper pulled the vine away, exposing more of the fence. She walked along, yanking vines, exposing it, following around a corner. She peered into the blocked off area, studying the mound, sure that it concealed something.

  ‘Fence is fairly new.’ Hank touched barbed wire. ‘What do you think this is? It’s right in the middle of the state forest.’

  Harper wasn’t sure. She wanted to climb over it, find out what was on the other side. What was hidden by the mound of rocks. She pictured insurgents, dug in, ready to strike.

  ‘That little hill,’ Hank said. ‘It looks man-made. Maybe some loner built himself a hut in there and wants people to back off.’

  Maybe.

  ‘Someone should check it out.’

  Harper looked at him. She was ready to jump the fence.

  ‘No.’ Hank shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean us, Harper. We’re here looking for a missing man—’

  ‘But maybe he’s in there. Maybe he got curious and climbed the fence. Maybe he’s trapped there. Maybe the ground opens up and he fell in—’

  A sharp boom shook the trees. Reflexively, Harper ducked, pulled Hank down with her.

  ‘We’re fine. Harper? It’s okay.’

  But Harper knew that it wasn’t. She was well acquainted with the sound of explosive devices. ‘Stay down,’ she ordered.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Hank said. ‘Probably the gas company doing some work.’

  The gas company? What? Harper crouched low, waiting. Watching. Listening for sniper fire, for the screams of wounded men. She blinked, looked around. Where was her patrol? And, oh God – where was her weapon?

  ‘Harper.’ The voice was far away. ‘You need your lemon?’

  Her lemon? She gazed into the trees, vaguely aware that they were too green, too lush for the war zone. Expecting insurgents. Maybe an ambush.