Behind the Renshaws’ cabin, the cooling hood of Deputy Braun’s forest green truck left faint steam rising in the freezing night air. On the roof of the vehicle, flashing red-and-blue lights circled in silence, chasing shadows between the cabin and the dark tree-lined hill beyond.
“You say it happened about two hours ago, ‘round midnight,” Deputy Braun confirmed.
Looking exhausted, Warner nodded.
“You sure they didn’t get into the house?” the deputy asked for the third time.
“Yes, I’m sure. Weren’t you listening?” Warner added sharply. Angrily dabbing a blood-speckled napkin at the gash on his cheek, he worked free another small piece of gravel. “Like I already said, Kolt must’ve been at the workshop when I caught the other guy, Bruce, shining a penlight into my mother’s room. Then I was chasing them off when they tried to run me over. Lucky I wasn’t killed—but I got the damn license.”
Warner wrapped his arms around Kendra, who shivered. He knew it wasn’t completely from the cold, but was surprised when she pulled away.
While the harsh glare from the truck’s spotlight pinned them like an interrogation, his mother stood off to one side rubbing her arms to fight her own chill. Still clutching her keys splayed between her fingers, Sylvia stood in a maroon house robe with two pink bows decorating the collar. She looked surreal as the stark emergency lights repeatedly flicked her image from normal, to blue, to red, and back again.
“The tags on the Plymouth came up registered to a lady in Seattle,” the deputy said.
“How can that be?” Warner asked.
“We see it all the time. These guys buy a car, don’t register it, and make their hits before the fifteen days they got to transfer title expires. Unload the vehicle on some innocent chump and bingo, they never show up on the books.”
“I thought the license number would be all you need.”
“These guys are always one step ahead. It’s their job. After all, they’re professionals.”
“Aren’t you a professional too?”
“Mr. Renshaw, I’m not gonna let you make me the bad guy here….”
“What about Kolt, can’t you pick him up?” Catching his mother’s eye, Warner waved her over and put his arm around her shoulders. She gave him a determined smile.
“You sure Kolt’s his real name? You got a last name? Fact is all you got is trespassing. That’s hardly a misdemeanor in these parts.”
“What about trying to run me over? Isn’t that attempted homicide or something?”
“Said yourself, you ran into the clearing after them. Put that in front of a judge and these kids is gonna say it was your fault.”
Kendra faced Warner with her own accusation reflected in her eyes.
“My fault! That’s bullshit! Should I just let them break in next time? Or better yet, hurt my family?” Warner saw Kendra shudder and immediately regretted the comment.
“Course not,” the deputy replied. “Ain’t what I’m saying at all. Sorry your family’s had a scare, but I’m only being straight cuz the reality of living this far out is—if they wants in, they gets in.”
“What about surveillance cameras?” Warner asked. Do I tell him I have one inside?
“Don’t recommend ‘em. One couple with a place up at Bedal like yours had similar trouble and put up a fake camera. Next time the guys broke in, they seen the camera and tried to find the recorder.” The deputy chuckled. “Didn’t exist, so they destroyed the place. If you’re still set on going that route, make sure you let us remove the video cuz the judge expects a clear record showing control of any evidence. That way ain’t no opportunity for tampering. But I’m sure once you move out here for good things’ll settle down.”
“And ‘til then?” Sylvia asked. “We’re not letting a couple of local hoodlums run us off.” She reached out and drew Kendra closer. “Are we, sweetheart?”
Kendra wiped the tears from her eyes and glared at the deputy, “Someone’s got to do something! Maybe we should talk to the sheriff—”
“That ain’t advised, Ma’am,” the deputy said quickly. “He’d just be mad I’m spending the time I already am. Besides, he’ll see the report. Tell you what, I’ll talk with the other deputies. Maybe we can get out this way more often over the next couple of weeks. How’d that make you feel? Course, this is a big county and all—”
“Don’t bother,” Warner said. “I’ll be here, so you’d just call it trespassing again.”
The deputy shrugged. “Fine by me.”
Kendra spun to face Warner. “They finally offer to help and you turn them down? What do you think you’re going to do? Put up another gate?”
“Kendra…, please.”
“No. You haven’t been able to stop him either.” She pulled her shoulder out from under Sylvia’s arm and turned partially away from Warner.
“Okay, well… I’m about done here and we got your report. Here’s my card with your incident number.”
When Deputy Braun extended the business card to Warner, Kendra snatched it out of his hand. The deputy nodded at Kendra and began walking to his truck. Halfway there, he stopped and turned.
“I’m real sorry y’alls having this mess’a trouble. I’ll do what I can.”
While Warner stared at Kendra in a mixture of confusion and guilt, Sylvia managed a weak smile at the deputy.
When the deputy’s truck made its way up Wa-Wilkin Road, emergency lights now dark, the wilderness settled back around the family along with the cold night.
“Makes me furious to think he’s going to get away with this,” Kendra protested while glancing at the card in her hand. “The deputy’s not going to help, is he?”
Warner sighed. It’s time to start telling the truth. “Not likely—not out here.”
“Well, neither can you…” Tearing the card, Kendra let the two halves flutter to the frozen ground. “Something’s got to be done, because I can’t take this anymore. When I go to Alaska next week, I want this settled before I come home. Otherwise, we’re selling the place—”
“What?” Warner exclaimed, staring at his wife. What’s gotten into her?
“You heard me.”