maybe – just maybe - she could distance herself from all that had happened here. Her plan, if it could be called that, seemed to offer an impossibly remote chance of success but she was in no frame of mind to think of anything better.
There was only one spot nearby where she might be able to hide a car. It was a small copse of trees in a little valley at the most remote corner of a farm just up the road.
Get to that little grove , she thought. Then hike back to the pickup. Do these two things without being seen.
She could do this.
All she needed was a little luck.
7
If the shots Callie had fired had happened a little later in the year they probably wouldn’t have drawn anyone’s attention. But in this part of Maine hunting season was ten days off. If you were foolish enough to try getting the season off to an early start there were plenty of people who would report you for it.
Mitch Fuller was just finishing his mid-morning coffee when he heard the two shots that ended John Croop’s life. Soon after, he placed a call to the Colville Police Department.
Madge took the call and passed it along to Fordham. Jessup was out of the office on another matter.
“Officer Fordham.”
“This is Mitch Fuller, out on Thornhill Road.”
“Yes, Mr. Fuller. What can I do for you?”
“I just heard a couple shots near my place. Sounds like somebody’s getting a head start on hunting season. Thought you’d want to know.”
“Okay, thank you, sir. We’ll look into it.”
“Anything important?” Madge asked.
“Probably not. Gonna take a run out to Thornhill Road. Mitch Fuller reported hearing gunshots. Anything urgent comes up before the Chief comes in, give Croop a call.”
“The Chief already called him last night to confirm he should come in this afternoon. Friday night and all.”
“Okay then. Later.”
“Be careful out there.”
“Always am,” Fordham responded. He donned his hat, grabbed the keys to his department cruiser and strode out.
As fate would have it the little valley with the grove of trees that Callie had in mind for hiding Croop and his car just happened to be located on Mitch Fuller’s land. The road Callie took was located on the southernmost border of his property which meant, for the most part, it remained out of Fuller’s sight. But his curiosity had been aroused by the shots he’d heard. He was pretty sure they had originated from somewhere southwest of his home and that could very well mean whoever fired them was either on his property or damn close to it. He decided that rather than wait for Fordham to show up he’d take a little look around on his own. He got in his pickup and, within two minutes, had spotted a car on the road separating his farm from the old Crandall place, and going like hell, too.
He took chase.
Callie spotted Mitch Fuller’s truck beating a path in her direction. Oh, Jesus , she groaned. Shit, shit, shit . She was nearly frantic. What the hell was she going to do now? There
There was only one spot nearby where she might be able to hide a car. It was a small copse of trees in a little valley at the most remote corner of a farm just up the road.
Get to that little grove , she thought. Then hike back to the pickup. Do these two things without being seen.
She could do this.
All she needed was a little luck.
7
If the shots Callie had fired had happened a little later in the year they probably wouldn’t have drawn anyone’s attention. But in this part of Maine hunting season was ten days off. If you were foolish enough to try getting the season off to an early start there were plenty of people who would report you for it.
Mitch Fuller was just finishing his mid-morning coffee when he heard the two shots that ended John Croop’s life. Soon after, he placed a call to the Colville Police Department.
Madge took the call and passed it along to Fordham. Jessup was out of the office on another matter.
“Officer Fordham.”
“This is Mitch Fuller, out on Thornhill Road.”
“Yes, Mr. Fuller. What can I do for you?”
“I just heard a couple shots near my place. Sounds like somebody’s getting a head start on hunting season. Thought you’d want to know.”
“Okay, thank you, sir. We’ll look into it.”
“Anything important?” Madge asked.
“Probably not. Gonna take a run out to Thornhill Road. Mitch Fuller reported hearing gunshots. Anything urgent comes up before the Chief comes in, give Croop a call.”
“The Chief already called him last night to confirm he should come in this afternoon. Friday night and all.”
“Okay then. Later.”
“Be careful out there.”
“Always am,” Fordham responded. He donned his hat, grabbed the keys to his department cruiser and strode out.
As fate would have it the little valley with the grove of trees that Callie had in mind for hiding Croop and his car just happened to be located on Mitch Fuller’s land. The road Callie took was located on the southernmost border of his property which meant, for the most part, it remained out of Fuller’s sight. But his curiosity had been aroused by the shots he’d heard. He was pretty sure they had originated from somewhere southwest of his home and that could very well mean whoever fired them was either on his property or damn close to it. He decided that rather than wait for Fordham to show up he’d take a little look around on his own. He got in his pickup and, within two minutes, had spotted a car on the road separating his farm from the old Crandall place, and going like hell, too.
He took chase.
Callie spotted Mitch Fuller’s truck beating a path in her direction. Oh, Jesus , she groaned. Shit, shit, shit . She was nearly frantic. What the hell was she going to do now? There
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