The old man’s seamed face had reshaped into a glower. “Well, hell. Look at that view down the declivity and across the bluff—whitewater view now. You could barely see the ocean before—”
“I thought so.”
He took the Glock from his jacket pocket.
The old man said, “Jesus Christ!” and backed up a step, wide-eyed. He hadn’t been afraid before. Now he was. “What’s that for?”
“What do you think it’s for?”
“Listen, all I got on me is twenty bucks and there’s nothing in the cabin—”
“I don’t want your money.”
“God’s sake, what then?”
“I told you, I don’t like clear-cutting.”
“You ain’t gonna shoot me—”
“Yes,” he said, “I am.”
“For cutting down trees? You can’t kill a man for that!”
“It’s not the only reason,” he said, and fired.
B E T W E E N C H R I S T M A S
A N D N E W Y E A R ’ S
O N E
THEY WERE HALFWAY THROUGH the treacherous cliffside section of Highway 1 between Jenner and Fort Ross when the rain started.
Macklin thought, Damn! and flicked on the windshield wipers. It was dark now, just after five, and the twisty two-lane road glistened wetly in the Prius’s headlight beams. No other traffic in sight; there’d been only a smattering of cars in either direction since they passed through Jenner.
Beside him, Shelby shifted position and spoke for the first time in nearly half an hour. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
“It’s only a light drizzle.”
“Followed by heavier rain, followed by a storm with high winds, followed by unsettled weather that probably means another storm by New Year’s Eve.”
“The forecasters aren’t always right.”
“Want to bet they’re not this time?”
Macklin glanced over at her. She was huddled low on the seat, her arms folded under her breasts as if she were cold despite the cranked-up heater. In the shadowy glow of the dash lights she looked younger than thirty- five, the same effect as soft room lights and candlelight. It was only in bright light, harsh light, that the age, worry, and stress lines were evident. The years she’d spent on the ambulance, all the carnage and death she’d seen and had to deal with, were partly responsible. But mainly he was to blame. Twelve years of marriage to him had sucked the youth out of her. And he hated himself for it, even though he’d had damn little control over the process.
“We should have left earlier,” she said. “Driving in wet weather in daylight is bad enough. Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”
“Three straight night shifts. You needed the rest.”
“Five whole days off. I could’ve slept in the car.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right, we should’ve left earlier.”
Silence for a time. Then, “I still think this is a bad idea. I don’t see why you’re so set on it.”
You will soon enough, he thought. “We needed to get away.”
“Oh, we did?”
“Just the two of us. We haven’t been anywhere alone together in almost two years.”
“We’re alone together at home. A four-hundred-mile round-trip in the dead of winter just to spend four days in an isolated seaside cottage—it just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”
“Four days free of charge, don’t forget that.”
“Holiday charity from good old Ben Coulter.”
“You know Ben’s not that way. He’s only owned the cottage a year and a half and he likes having people stay there when he’s not using it.”
“Must be nice to be rich,” Shelby said.
“Ben’s not rich, not by today’s standards.”
“A successful software business, a house in Los Altos Hills, a second home on the Mendocino coast, a daughter in a private school—that’s rich by
“Well, anyway, we’ll have these next few days to ourselves. At home … distractions, interruptions, another dull New Year’s party somewhere, friends showing up unannounced—”
“What friends, besides Mary Ellen and John, Ben and Kate?”
“Come on, we have more than that.”
“Acquaintances, yes, not what I call friends.”
The distinction wasn’t worth arguing. “Besides,” he said, “we didn’t really enjoy Christmas.”
“It was all right.”
“But not very festive.”
“How could it be, the way things have gone this year?”
It wasn’t meant as a jab at him, but it might as well have been. The way things had gone this year. Losing his office manager’s job when the recession forced Conray Foods to downsize. Not being able to find another, even something blue collar that paid decent wages, because he was overqualified—six months now and counting. Even Ben couldn’t help him; he knew nothing about software technology and there were no office staff openings at Coulter, Inc. And now this other thing … what would Shelby say if he just blurted it out, right here in the dark car? But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. That was why this time alone together was so important, to help soften the blow. Maybe soften it, if the next four days went better than this one had so far.
He said, trying to sound cheerful, “Even if the weather’s bad, it’ll be nice at the cottage.”
“Will it?”
“You’ve seen the photos. Oceanfront, all the amenities.”
“In the middle of nowhere.”
“Three miles to the nearest town—hardly the middle of nowhere.”
“Town, Jay? With a population of ninety-seven? That’s not even a hamlet.”
“Remember the driving trip to Oregon? We came back down the coast and you liked the area then, you said it was beautiful up here.”
“That was ten years ago. And in the summer, with the sun shining.”
He didn’t want to argue; that was the last thing he wanted. Best to keep his mouth shut. Shelby’s mood was prickly enough as it was.
“You’d better turn the wipers on full,” she said. “Your drizzle is turning into a downpour.”
The wind-driven rain pelted down with increasing velocity the farther north they traveled. The serpentine coast highway grew slick, runoff puddles forming in low-lying areas along its verges. Macklin lowered his speed to fifty, to half that on some of the sharper curves. The road remained deserted for long intervals; the few cars he saw seemed to be mostly highway patrol and county sheriff’s cruisers.
His neck and shoulders had begun to ache a bit. Once he thought of asking Shelby to take over; she was a better driver than him, not so overly cautious in conditions like these. But he didn’t do it. He felt all right, not too fatigued. Nothing to be gained in shifting the burden to her.
They passed through a handful of widely spaced little towns and villages, all of which had an abandoned aspect like illuminated ghosts. Hardly any tourists this time of year, on a Sunday in weather like this, and the residents forted up for the night. Most of the roadside businesses were closed, taverns and a few restaurants and
