to her truck. She yanked open the driver’s side door. The man in the ski jacket got into the passenger side of the truck.
She glanced over at the stranger sitting across from her. Her heart was still racing from running from the shooter.
He met her gaze. His eyes looked honest, anyway. “Thank you,” he said. “You saved my life.” He was still trying to catch his breath.
She wasn’t sure what to think about this stranger. She pulled through the trees and out onto the road. The heavy snowfall on the unplowed road meant she had to go slow. “I’ll take you as far as Lodgepole where I’m staying. There’s no law enforcement there. Tiny town, only two hundred people.” Her voice dropped half an octave. “Obviously, you have something to report. There’s a sheriff in Garnet about fifty miles from Lodgepole.”
He nodded but offered no further explanation. “Again, thank you.” He let out a breath. “I’m Jude, by the way.” His voice had a soft melodic quality.
“Lacey. I’m a biologist doing research on elk.” She hoped he would return the favor and explain what he was doing up in these mountains.
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
She maneuvered the truck through the heavy snow that had already piled up on the road. An object hit the truck with a violent thud. Her heart pounded as every muscle in her body tensed. The man with the rifle had thrown something at the truck.
“He must be out of bullets,” said Jude. “I think he threw a rock at us.”
Lacey glanced out of the driver’s side window. The man was close enough for her to see his face. He ran toward them, rifle raised to be used as a blunt instrument. She saw him clearly. He was maybe ten feet away, a hulking mass of a man. The white-and-gray hair, the beard, the eyes that were filled with a murderous rage. A face she would not easily forget. The man looked right at her. A chill skittered over her skin.
She pressed the gas even harder, accelerating to a dangerous speed. She swerved.
Another blow struck the back end of the truck. In the rearview mirror, she saw the man raising his rifle to hit the truck again with the rifle stock.
Lacey gripped the steering wheel and chose the path of least resistance where the snow wasn’t as deep. All the same, her truck drifted toward the edge of the road. She straightened her steering wheel, finally gaining control.
“Good job,” said Jude. “That takes some skill.” He still had a white-knuckle grip on the dashboard as he glanced nervously out the back window.
She had no idea what to think about this man sitting in her truck. He had a lot of explaining to do. She had never been a good judge of character. As her grandmother used to say, her people picker was broken. She did better with wilderness and animals.
“You handled the whole thing really well,” said Jude.
“Thanks. So was that guy some sort of crazed landowner or something?” She really wanted to give Jude the benefit of the doubt, but she needed to know whom she had just rescued.
He took a moment to answer. He ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “No, it’s a little more complicated than that. I’m a private investigator. That’s all you need to know.” He turned away and stared out the window.
Okay, so he wasn’t going to tell her much. At least he was on the right side of the law.
When she checked the rearview mirror, she could no longer see the man with the rifle. But his face was burned into her memory. Though she could not say why. She had the feeling she had looked into the face of a murderer.
Lacey could see the tiny cluster of lights that was Lodgepole as she drove toward the base of the mountain. By the time she pulled onto Main Street, the wind and snow had intensified.
“Probably too dangerous to drive into Garnet to report what happened to you. Might have to wait until after the storm.” She searched for a parking space.
“I suppose I can phone it in.” His voice lacked commitment as he stared out the window. He seemed distracted. His mind must be on something else.
“If you can get a signal. Maybe we should do that together. I saw the guy pretty clearly.”
Jude perked up. “Really?”
Downtown Lodgepole was all of five blocks long. Many of the businesses did double duty. She rolled past a post office that was also an information center for tourists. The hardware store advertised that you could get your car fixed there. There was one café next to the hotel where she was staying.
The Davenport Hotel had probably been the talk of the town when it was built at the turn of the century. Meant to be an elegant stopping place for weary railroad travelers, it was now run-down with only a few rooms still being used. Much of the hotel was boarded up and closed off. The railroad didn’t come through Lodgepole anymore. No one came through here except the occasional hunter or hiker. She glanced over at Jude. And the occasional tight-lipped private investigator.
The residents of Lodgepole were not used to strangers and had a suspicion of them.
If she included the people who lived in remote cabins outside of Lodgepole, the population count might tick up by fifty. She’d been here for only a few days.
She pointed at the café. “We can find out about road conditions by going in there. The locals will give a better report than any weather channel or app on your phone. Are you hungry?”
“I really need to track that man down. I’ll need to get another car. And I need you to describe him for me.” A sense of urgency entered his voice. “I can’t wait around here in this town.”
“Sure, I can describe him. But honestly I don’t think anybody is going anywhere.” He seemed almost nervous now. Lunch might give him an opportunity for him to explain himself.
She headed toward the café which was also a sort of community center and place to get gossip and news. In addition to the cars parked on the street, there was probably an equal number of snowmobiles. Because the snow stayed almost year-round at this elevation and roads sometimes didn’t get plowed quickly, snowmobiles were the preferred mode of transportation for most of the residents.
The second they pushed open the door and the tiny bell above it rang, the place fell silent. All eyes were on Jude and her. The chatter resumed almost immediately, but she felt the shift when she stepped into the café.
They weren’t used to outsiders. She was still an outsider, and Jude wasn’t from here either. Her research would keep her here for at least a month. People might warm up to her a little.
She searched the room for an empty table but didn’t see one. All the seats at the counter were taken, as well. As she passed by the table, the talk was about the storm. She heard enough of the conversation to know the roads were already impassable.
She patted Jude’s shoulder. “Looks like you’re stuck here for a while.”
The news didn’t seem to sit well with
