After swallowing the news, the muscles along Felk’s jawline spasmed and he glared at the mountains.
“Three? Who else did they get?” Unger asked.
“Maybe Dante, or Upshaw, all because of her!” Felk glowered at Lisa’s Ford far ahead in the distance then slammed both palms violently on the dash. For nearly half a mile, his anger faded into the tense hum of the SUV’s radials on the asphalt. Unger tightened his grip on the wheel.
Thinking.
Police actually had three of their people. They should get out of the country, now. It was worse than Unger thought.
“Ivan, what if she’s leading us into a trap? What if they’re watching us? We could still pull out…the mission’s over.”
“It’s not over. Not while I’m breathing.”
Felk dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.
His squad was decimated, his other men, his brother, were all facing death. Clay’s pleas on the video, and Felk’s own from the frozen pond in Ohio pierced him—
“What do we do, Ivan?”
“We finish her, then we salvage the mission.”
“Salvage the mission?”
“We already have more than six million overseas. We offer them the six million, a million per man. They won’t turn down six million in cash.”
“But there’s only the two of us.”
“We get our people in Kuwait to hire contractors to join us and then we’ll carry out the mission and waste these motherfuckers.”
“What about our guys here?”
“When we rescue our people overseas, we’ll regroup and devise plans to help our men taken prisoner here. But first—” Felk’s eyes blazed at Lisa’s car “—first, we’re going to collect our payback up there.”
By the time Lisa and the children had reached the turnoff for the cabin, the afternoon sky had dimmed. Rolls of dark, ragged-edged rain clouds gathered above the mountains.
The threat of a storm hung over them as they traveled along a secondary road that wound through sweet- smelling forests for two miles before coming to an intersection. It gave access to the cabins scattered for miles in the vast wooded reaches along Lake George’s eastern shore.
The crossroad was marked by Hallick’s General Store.
The one-story framed building, with its overflowing flower boxes, was run by Jed and Violet Hallick, who lived thirteen miles away in Southbay. The store had a single gas pump and offered fishing supplies, outdoor gear and groceries in this isolated corner of the region. Their nearly napping dog yawned a welcome from the base of the pay phone on the shaded porch as Lisa and the kids entered.
The bells on the transom rang.
“Mom, can we roast hot dogs on the fire tonight?” Ethan asked.
“If it doesn’t rain,” Lisa said. “We’re going to need buns.”
“And chips, too!” Taylor said.
“And a few other things I forgot at home.”
While the kids explored the store, Lisa collected her items and put them on the counter where an older man was reading the
“Hi, Jed.” Lisa gave him a bittersweet smile.
Jed Hallick removed his bifocals. He was an understanding man who’d watched Bobby grow up here summer after summer.
“Sorry to hear you sold the place, Lisa.”
“It hurts, but I had to do it.”
Seeing the sadness behind her eyes, Jed shifted gears as he rang up her purchases. “Vi and the church ladies will be out Tuesday to box up what you want to sell and donate. I’ll have Brett get out there with the truck then, too.”
He bagged up her items and patted her hand.
“You take care, Lisa. It looks like we’re in for a whopper of a storm tonight.”
“Jed, you were part of what Bobby loved about this place,” Lisa said before she and the kids left. The transom bells rang behind them.
The next stretch from the store to the cabin was just under half a mile, but the old dirt road sliced through forests so thick they blocked the light. In some spots it was treacherously narrow, with sudden valleys and small cliff edges. Leafy branches slapped at Lisa’s car while loose gravel popcorned against the undercarriage.
It was as if they’d entered another world.
Lisa stopped at a small, weatherworn sign with the name Palmer hand painted on it. As dust clouds swallowed her car, she inched off the road onto an earthen strip overrun with shrubs.
Through the trees they glimpsed the lake and their cabin.
It was so beautiful here, she thought. They were so lucky to have had this.
The cabin was built in the 1940s with ten-inch hand-hewn pine logs. The lakeside wall was made of floor-to- ceiling glass and offered a sweeping view of the water. French doors opened to the deck, with inviting Adirondack chairs and a path to the dock.
Inside, the cabin had hardwood floors, a stone fireplace, a spacious living room and dining area that flowed to the kitchen. The fridge and stove were powered by batteries and solar panels on an exposed hillside.
At the rear of the main floor were two small bedrooms and a bathroom. The master bedroom was upstairs in the loft. It overlooked the living room area and the lake windows.
No phone, no internet, no TV, a world away from the city.
“Out here you’re off the grid,” Bobby used to say.
They unloaded the car.
Ethan carried his father’s urn and tenderly set it on the hearth before helping carry other things in. After they’d finished, Taylor said she was hungry. So was Ethan.
“Can we roast the hot dogs now?” he asked.
Outside, dusk was approaching, but the rain was holding off.
“Let’s go for it,” Lisa said.
She went to the fire pit near the deck, heaped some kindling within the circle of stones, piled firewood nearby and got things started. The kids helped bring everything to the picnic table. They each had their own roasting stick. As they cooked their hot dogs, Ethan tried to teach Taylor how to burp.
“Swallow some air, like this.”
“Ethan, stop that!” Lisa said before she burped on purpose, making everyone laugh.
After they ate their hot dogs and chips, they toasted marshmallows.
Night fell, but the rain held and they snuggled around the fire in sleeping bags listening to the crackling as the flames painted their faces in yellow and orange light.
“I wish we didn’t have to move to California,” Taylor said.
