CHAPTER 40
South of Atlanta
Clark stopped to stretch just short of the opening in the woods to their mountain trail. The temperature had dropped into the twenties and was expected to last like that for several days. The muddy puddles on the road froze during the night, but the sun would warm them up during the day, turning the ice back into liquid. And when the sun set, the puddles would then turn, again, into solid ice. The first sign of winter.
Clark still was riding the high from the marathon, but her muscles felt like boards, inflexible and unbendable. Especially after nearly four hours of running on pavement. Even with the months of training, the pounding had taken its toll. She could barely get out of bed for a day or two after the race. But the run had hooked her.
“Look at that sky.” As she spoke, the steam from her breath clouded the perfectly clear, cobalt-blue sky. The northwestern front from Canada had cleared out all of the clouds. The sun sparkled in the chilled air.
I think I’ll do ten.
A ten-miler would mean two laps of their mountain trail. With the bright sun, it wouldn’t take long for the body to produce enough heat to overcome the chill. She looked at her watch, trying to gauge the time. It was a new Nike Triax Mia with several functions that she knew she would never learn, but it kept her pace and time. Plus, it was cute. It was her reward for running more than twenty-six miles.
He should be home soon. The run next week would be the same, but she would be doing it with him. She smiled at the thought.
Clark heard the rumble of a car on the gravel road. She and Parker lived alone here on their small mountain. Visitors who started on the road usually gave up after several miles. If they got far enough, the NO TRESPASSING signs turned the stubborn ones around.
“Hey!” Clark saw the Stewart County Sheriff’s patrol car and the driver who pulled up in front of the lodge.
“Hey, Ms. Clark. How’s it going?” Deputy Mack Dennson had a round, happy face and looked perpetually younger than his years. He’d been with the Sheriff’s office for more than ten now.
“What are you doing this far out in the middle of nowhere?”
“You know Will told me to check on you, right?” Mack smiled. “And you know how we follow the colonel’s orders.”
She laughed, but Mack was half-serious. He’d served a short tour in the Marine Corps, so a favor to another Marine was not a problem.
“I’m fine, but I appreciate your checking in.”
“You have my cell?”
“Yep.” She recited it from memory.
“Exactly. How about some protection?”
Mack was asking whether she had her own firearm.
“I have the pistol he gave me.” She had never felt comfortable with the small Glock. She didn’t even know the caliber, but it fit easily in her hand. The pop, pop of the bullets made her hand sore between the thumb and forefinger. But Will had insisted on her learning to not only shoot the pistol but also reload the clip and chamber the rounds. William was insistent that once a month they go out to the stump behind and below the lodge for target practice. Afterward, he would clean it with the same rag and a solvent that would stink up her kitchen. And then he would put it in the drawer near their bed, with the two clips full of the tiny rounds. One clip was kept in the pistol and the other next to it.
“Good. Going out for a run?”
“Yeah. Want to go?”
She knew that Mack thought she was crazy. And given Mack’s waistline, she knew he’d take it as a joke.
“No, ma’am. But thanks.”
“Unit twenty-six, status?” The patrol car radio chirped up with a call.
“No rest for the weary.” Mack grabbed the mike.
“Twenty-six, I’m out at the Parker farm.”
“Twenty-six, ten-four.”
“Let me go check on some of my bad boys. You would think this cold weather would slow some people down.”
“Yeah.” As a veteran court reporter, she knew exactly who the bad boys were. And she knew that cold weather didn’t matter a whit to any of them. “Well, thanks again.” She waved as he turned the patrol car around.
Clark would never see Mack alive again.