Elizabeth Sitton wept silently with her eyes closed. She didn’t know where they were going, and she didn’t care. She wanted to go home. Jed Romson knew where they were going. Knowing, though, made things no better. His back was stiff from sitting hunched over with his hand cuffed to Elizabeth’s through the seat supports.
Jed looked at the back of Pete Richardson’s head. Pete, Romson Industries’ company pilot, flew the company aircraft, a De Havilland Beaver, a superb plane for getting in and out of remote areas. Jed knew the Beaver’s capabilities would be needed to land on the lake by the company’s hunting and research lodge.
Great, Jed thought. Fifty miles of wilderness to any town, I’m stuck with a girl who knows nothing useful, and I have no idea where to find a hunting camp. Thirty-five miles? I don’t know. I just don’t know.