Tags:
Crime,
Mystery,
Private Investigators,
series,
Mystery; Thriller & Suspense,
Crime Fiction,
Conspiracies,
cozy,
Murder,
Teen & Young Adult,
Serial Killers,
Noir,
Thrillers & Suspense,
Spies & Politics,
Vigilante Justice,
Assassinations,
Kidnapping
He pulled into the laneway and up to a chain-link gate. Paying no heed to a large “Danger/No Trespassing” sign, he swung open the unlocked gate, drove inside, and then closed the gate.
He jumped back in the vehicle and took a rarely used lane in about a quarter mile. There it is. He smiled grimly and pulled the vehicle to within a few feet of a large quarry. He climbed from the car and eased up to the edge. It was filled with murky water, still and quiet. A perfect place to hide a vehicle. He couldn’t afford it to be found and possibly connected to him. That would ruin all his plans.
He glanced around, found a sturdy stick, broke off a piece about eighteen inches long, and returned to the vehicle. The engine roared as he wedged the stick between the seat and the gas pedal. That should do it. He opened the driver window, jumped out, closed the door, and then reached in and pulled the gearshift into drive. The tires whined on the grass and spat up gravel as the vehicle sped ahead, spun sideways, and then toppled into the quarry.
Lucas watched with grim relief as the car filled with water and slowly sank. Bubbles rose for a few minutes, and then all was still again.
He turned his back on the scene and walked toward the highway. He didn’t have far to go now and he could easily make it the rest of the way on foot. He walked down the shoulder of the road, keeping an eye out for traffic in either direction. He ducked into the ditch and lay low as the SUV he saw at the general store came into view and breezed by.
He estimated he’d walked about a mile when he noticed a familiar landmark—a large outcropping of rock. This was the place. He hopped the fence, made his way into the forest of Algonquin Park, and wound his way among the trees. He wished he had a compass, but it was too late for that now. He felt pretty sure he knew where he was going. At any rate, he was in no hurry now, being well out of danger.
An hour later he topped a knoll and smiled at the sight of a log cabin.
“Ah. Home at last.”
Chapter 12
Thursday, 7:02 PM
JAKE PULLED THE vehicle into the parking lot and stepped out. Of the several vehicle entry points to Algonquin Park, the North Gate was nearest to where they were headed.
Matty and Kyle tagged along behind as Jake entered the rustic building that offered visitors a small snack bar, public telephones, rest rooms, and other amenities.
He approached the counter where a smiling young woman rose from her seat behind a desk and approached him. She dropped her arms on the counter, leaned forward, and asked in a cheerful voice, “You been here before?”
Jake nodded. “A couple of times.”
“Where you headed?”
Although there were numerous drive-in campgrounds in Algonquin, the park is better known for its interior camping accessible only by canoe or hiking in the summer, or plodding through snow in the winter. Jake preferred something in between—something remote and quiet, but accessible without a lot of hiking.
“Wendigo Lake,” he answered.
The woman waved a pencil at him. “That’s a long way in. Things might look civilized right here,” she said. “But the further you proceed from this point, the wilder the park becomes. It’s possible to spend several days in there without seeing any other people.”
“That’s ok,” Jake said, and offered a smile. “That’s why we’re here.”
The woman looked down at the boys. “You guys watch out for bears, now. They’re probably more afraid of you than you are of them, but don’t get too close if you see one.”
Matty grinned up at the woman. “Don’t worry. We’ve got some bear spray.”
“I’m not afraid,” Kyle put in.
Jake paid for a three-day permit and grabbed a brochure from a display rack. He flipped through it. It contained basic information on the park as well as tips and protocol. The last section warned against approaching bears and other wildlife. Jake folded it and
Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman