“I’ll be watching.” Josh put down his fork, then touched her arm, pointed. “An eagle. The other in the pair should show up soon.”
“Wow!” she exclaimed as she watched its powerful yet graceful climb. It came soaring back toward them, the mate not far behind.
Josh was pleased at Ann’s reaction, for this was one of his favorite moments, living in this place. They finished the meal while watching the two eagles circle above the lake.
Ann pushed back her plate. “Thanks for a great meal, Josh. I could spend hours sitting here enjoying the view, although the lake from the air is going to look spectacular too. I’m sorry the flight might disrupt the eagles.”
“Not much bothers them. I’m glad you came by. And I deeply appreciate the news about Grace.” Josh set their dishes inside, grabbed his phone and keys, and walked Ann down the path to the bait shop and her rental.
“Looks like you’ve got steady customers,” she noted, eyeing several vehicles besides hers in the parking area. “You must be pleased with the business.”
“I am. It helps that I’ve got a captive market, and fishing has been the best on the lake in years.” He held the car door for her. “Drive careful. Fly even more careful.”
“Always.” She waved goodbye and pulled out of the lot. Josh pushed his hands into his jeans pockets, considered going back to unload his boat or joining his two employees at the bait shop, and instead turned and walked back toward home. He wanted to sit for a while, simply think… remember.
Grace Arnett is coming back. He settled on his front porch, still watching the eagles, a cold soda in his hand. Ann couldn’t have rocked his world harder than she just did. He felt relieved, edging toward overjoyed. And at the same time he was wary about what had Ann so worried. She’d handled scores of homicide cases. She didn’t get nervous; she sized up the problem and dealt with matters. What is the favor Grace wants? He’d no doubt spend a couple of days wondering until she showed up and asked him.
He made one decision in advance. Whatever the favor was, he’d handle with care in how he reacted, and he’d say yes if there was any way he could do it. It wasn’t often a guy got to go back to the best days of his youth. Grace Arnett. Josh smiled, shook his head. He probably still had a school notebook or two tucked away with her name and his encircled by a heart. If she was inclined to take a trip down memory lane, he had some nice ones. The innocence of first love didn’t get more beautiful than Grace. It was saying something that no girl since had come even close.
TWO
Gabriel Thane
Gabriel Thane liked being sheriff, but there were days he wished he wasn’t tethered to the phone and the job. Last night’s date had ended abruptly so he could go break up a bar fight. And now, a Saturday, his grass had to be mowed and gutters cleared before the rain came in, yet he wasn’t making much headway. He killed the mower as his cellphone rang yet again, tugged out his phone, and tried to sound polite as he said, “Sheriff Thane.”
“Got yourself a problem, Son, out on County Road 62 near the old bridge. Lady hit herself a deer. Only she isn’t here at the wreck. I’ve got a blood trail that seems to indicate she’s walking toward town.”
“How bad is it, Dad?” He left the mower mid-strip in the backyard, headed to the garage, the phone tucked against his shoulder. He grabbed the red medical backpack and a blue one of general supplies out of the old refrigerator, and a jacket from the mudroom.
“Big buck came through the windshield,” his father was saying, “airbags deployed, she put the car into a tree. Found her busted phone on the passenger side floorboard, along with a spilled purse. That’s how come I know it’s a she. Driver’s license reads Evie Blackwell, thirty-six, a Springfield address.”
“I’ll head that way from here. Call the Tanners, Delaines, see if she knocked on a door.”
“Those are the next calls. Bring your med kit. The blood already feels tacky. An hour ago, I’m thinking.”
Gabe clicked off, headed to his sheriff-issue truck, tossed the gear in, reversed out of the drive, and turned north.
His street became County Road 62, and the bridge his dad mentioned was within half a mile of the turnoff to his brother Josh’s place. Had she walked north rather than toward town, she would have had help within minutes. She was looking at six miles of asphalt road and not much traffic since the new bridge and highway extension had been completed. Now he felt irritated with himself for being irritated at the interruptions. This was the job, and he liked to think he was as good at being sheriff as his father had been before him.
He gave it a couple minutes and hit redial. “Anything, Dad?”
“No one’s seen her. They’ll walk down their lanes to the road.”
“Not good. She passes Delaine’s, there’s nothing until town.” He turned on his flashers, added speed to close the distance to the crash. “Describe the blood trail.”
“I’m thinking she’s got pressure on a pretty serious cut. I’ve got multiple drops with every pace. She’s walking reasonably straight, no weave to her steps, heading south to town.”
“An hour, she could be at two miles or four.” Gabe thought she’d probably sat down, woozy from the impact and the walking, putting her somewhere on the side of this road, hopefully still conscious.
“I’m now driving south,” his father said. “Aaron’s coming out to haul in the vehicle, and Henry’s going to deal with the buck.”
“Good.” He caught the turn and shifted rapidly to brakes. He said into the phone, “Found her, Dad! Just east of Kimble’s land. It looks like a pint of blood dumped down her front. I’ll need your help here. She’s got dogs. Two of them.”
The German shepherds, both anxious, were pacing around her as she took each unsteady step. Five-foot-three, short brown hair, charcoal dress slacks and matching casual jacket, a red blouse, bloodstains now a much darker red. A holstered handgun on her right hip, just visible under the jacket.
She looked as startled to see his truck as he was to see her. He quickly pulled to the side of the road, out of the way of any traffic in the turn but angled out some to protect her-the shoulder here wasn’t that wide. He stepped out, but wary of the dogs, not walking forward. “Ma’am. We’ve been looking for you. It looks like you need some help.”
“I don’t hunt deer. I think it’s nature’s joke that I take one out that size at the start of my vacation.”
He let himself smile a bit. “Yes, ma’am. I’m told he was huge.” He reached for the backpacks, the jacket, moving slow because the dogs were now standing between him and her. “The reason you are armed, ma’am?”
“Illinois State Police. Evie Blackwell. My badge is in my pocket… I think, maybe.” She tried to concentrate. “Yeah, jacket pocket. I need to sit down.” She did so where she was, and the two dogs whined and crowded her.
“Want to tell your dogs to relax for me? I’ve got a first-aid kit. I need them to let me near.”
“You look familiar. You’re somebody I’m supposed to know. Boy, I have one nice-size headache.”
“Reassure the dogs, Evie.”
She said something, and the two dogs both dropped to a watching rest, their attention on him. He wondered how hurt the dogs might be. Likely in the backseat of the car, they would have been flung around during the crash. He wished Will was here right now. His brother wasn’t a vet, but he knew enough animal husbandry that the town vet often called him when the creature needing treatment was wild. Will was good with anxious animals.
“Anything else hurting besides the headache?” Gabriel carried the backpacks and jacket over with him.
“Everything, but nothing feels serious.”