Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series) (19 page)

Chapter Thirty

M
ontana felt no one cared about the Margery Anne and Rob Armstrong situation like she did. Rob Armstrong was a poisonous black spider that sucked Margery Anne into his web. She didn’t particularly care for the woman, but she sensed an entrapment, and she didn’t like that. It didn’t help trying to explain auras to Ray and how her body shook when she came anywhere near Armstrong. Ray just looked at her aghast.

She had spent the morning talking to women at a mini-conference in Friday Harbor on the value of understanding their body’s vibrations and what it all meant. So the moment she’d gotten on the ferry to return to Hartz Island, Montana felt a dark energy. Sure enough when she went to the upper deck, there was Armstrong. More than anything she wanted to say to him
you will not get away with this
. The problem was, she wasn’t sure what the
this
was, but Montana was ready to take him down. When she read her horoscope that morning, it said to “take action now,” so she did.

Planning it all out, she’d stopped by the café and asked to borrow the night vision binoculars from Jeannie.

“You’re not going to do anything illegal are you?” asked Jeannie.

“No. There is some animal roaming around my property at night, causing damage and I just want to see what it is.” This was true. Something was eating her plants.

Jeannie squinted, made a few noises but she handed over the binoculars. “Why is it I think there is more to this than you’re telling me?”

After leaving the Ferry Dock café, Montana stopped by the Ryan’s to see if Cassie was anywhere to be found. Not surprised to find the place empty, she took the horoscope’s advice about taking action and found a step ladder in the shed. It was perfect for climbing the big tree in the Ryan’s front yard; the tree was close to the beach with a terrific view. Her plan was to hide out in the tree and see what was happening. It was obvious to her Ray needed all the help he could get.

At nine that night, Montana stood in her yard and surveyed her property. Not seeing anything other than the usual deer eating her plants, she decided not to waste a perfectly good pair of binoculars. Montana arrived at the Ryan’s a little after ten and parked her Saab out of sight on the side of the house. Dressed in warm black clothing and carrying a light-weight knapsack, she dashed across the yard to the tree. The ladder took her up high enough to where the huge trunk branched out, creating a place to sit. She steadied herself on the top rung and pulled herself up. Preparing for a long night of sitting, Montana pulled out a thick pillow and cradled it in the trunk, using one of the enormous branches as a brace. She had a clear view of the beach and the house Rob Armstrong rented.

Pleased how everything worked out, she surveyed her situation and smiled. The October night was brisk, but not raining. A few clouds dotted the sky but didn’t blot out the stars. The sounds of waves hitting the beach echoed through the air. She really couldn’t ask for better spying conditions. She just wished Jeannie were there with her.

After three hours, Montana saw nothing was happening. Not even Margery Anne had shown up. To say she was disappointed was putting it mildly. The lights were still on in Armstrong’s house, which gave her hope, but her butt muscles ached. Montana didn’t want to admit it, but maybe it was time to go home.

She started down the step ladder but stopped when a pungent odor filled the air. Montana looked down, and an animal looked up. She scrambled back up the ladder and stood on the top rung hanging on to the tree.

“Shoo. Go away. Go. Get out of here.”

Without a flashlight, she couldn’t see exactly what it was. Montana scooted back onto the tree, but her foot caught on the ladder and knocked it down.

“Oh, no. Look what you made me do.” She pulled out the night vision binoculars and took a look. A skunk. Were skunks able to climb? She knew nothing about skunks other than they lifted their tail and sprayed. If it crawled up the tree, its tail would be at the opposite end.

“Listen, it’s time to leave. Do you understand me? Go. Shoo.”

The skunk didn’t seem to understand anything. Montana searched through her knapsack, looking for anything to get that darn skunk moving. In the front flap, she found a small container of breath mints. Totally frustrated, she tossed the little white pellets hard at the stinky creature.

“No. Do not eat those. You need to leave, now.” She couldn’t believe it—a skunk with good breath. Why wouldn’t it leave?

“Okay, skunk, you win. I’ll just sit up in this darn tree until you leave.” Her only worry at this point was falling out of the tree if she dozed off.

Something woke her. The strong smell of the skunk was gone, but was it? Using the binoculars, she searched everywhere around and then some. Motion on the beach brought her fully to attention and her pulse raced.

“Well what do you know? I knew I was right,” she whispered.

Four kayaks were beached in front of Armstrong’s house. Now she had something to call Ray about. Montana searched through her knapsack for her cellphone, positive she’d put it in. Then she remembered she’d left it plugged in to charge. At this point, the best she could do was pay attention to details, which would require getting a lot closer than sitting in a tree.

Montana estimated to be about seven to eight feet off the ground and at five feet five inches tall, she would only have to worry about a foot or so to drop, that was if she could dangle from a branch, but could a branch hold her weight? Her best option was to hug the tree and slide down.

Montana wrapped her arms and legs around the trunk and started the downward slide. Partially down, she dangled her legs to catch herself but ended up landing on her butt, knocking the air out of her. After about ten minutes, she forced herself up and moved her body around. She winced a bit, but other than bruising, she was fine. Sprinting to the logs on the beach was now out of the question. This was why she wished Jeannie was there with her. They could have talked about their options and weighed the odds.

What to do next? The answer was so simple: call Ray. In twenty minutes, she could be home. Montana ignored the ladder and hobbled to her car. When she put her car in reverse and let the clutch out, it stalled. Montana tried three times. Any more attempts would bring attention. Totally frustrated, she decided to meditate.

An hour later, she still had no answers but felt better. In thirty minutes, Jeannie would be at the Ferry Dock café putting cinnamon rolls in the oven. The café was closer than her home, and the thought of a hot roll sounded pretty good. Her eyes had adjusted to the night, but she still checked for the skunk to see if it was prowling around. Clear, she grabbed the knapsack and off she went down the dirt driveway. Nearing the end, Montana stopped. Her body alarm had reached full alert, but she wasn’t sure why. She pulled out the binoculars and scanned the area. There was nothing out of the ordinary. But what sent her body on alert?

Voices? A slamming door? At the end of the Ryan’s drive, Montana peered down Blue Heron Lane, into the night. Still seeing nothing amiss, she made her way to the neighboring drive. The little red lights at the end of Armstrong’s drive indicated the security cameras were on. Staying down low and out of the scan of the camera, Montana watched Armstrong’s driveway and listened.

Totally caught off guard, a small box of a car flew down the driveway onto Blue Heron and onto the main road. It happened so fast, she never really heard it coming her way. Resigned to a completely failed night, Montana started walking into town to Jeannie’s place.

Ray Carlson had not laughed so hard in a long time. He was perched up on the cliff-side ledge that had a direct view of the beach and Armstrong’s rental house. He had discovered Jeannie and Montana spying up there last spring and really liked the location. Ray watched the entire episode of Montana and the skunk. His night vision binoculars zoomed right in to the entertainment while he had Armstrong’s place under surveillance. Short of manpower and good solid leads, this was the best he could do for the moment. Ray clicked off several photos of the beached kayaks. So far, each kayak only had one person: the kayaker dressed in a protective dark wet suit. Unless there was illegal contraband inside, he still had nothing to make an arrest. Armstrong and a kayaker carried the kayaks off to the rear of the house, leaving the beach empty. It was time for him to head out.

Ray climbed off the lip and on to the madrona tree that grew out over the water and lowered into the pontoon boat he had tied up. He motored to the neighboring inlet, tied up the boat, and climbed the hillside trail up to a plateau where he’d left his vehicle. It was time to rescue Montana. He headed down the road and spotted a lone figure way up ahead, but then it ducked into the brush. About where he estimated she hid, Ray stopped and rolled down the window.

“Hey, Montana, come get in the car. Montana.”

A head poked up from the ditch area. “Ray?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Ray.” The door opened, and she hopped in. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

“You have?” His phone hadn’t vibrated.

“I mean, I wanted to call you, but I left my phone at home.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“I saw you sort of fall out of the tree.”

“Uh-oh.” She let out a big sigh. “Where were you?”

“On your old spying ledge.”

“Lucky.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Jeannie’s. The Ferry Dock.”

“Is she open?”

“Hopefully, if we go to the back door.”

Ray parked in the back behind the café. Together, they knocked on her door. The back light flipped on, and Jeannie peered out. The door flew open. “Montana. Ray. What in the world is going on?”

They trooped in. Jeannie’s eyes widened looking at Montana, so Ray took a closer look and grimaced. Ouch.

“What happened to your face?” Jeannie asked.

“I kind of fell out of a tree.”

“It looks like you scraped it pretty bad.” Jeannie pulled out a first aid kit and handed it to Ray. “You need ice on it otherwise you’ll have some bad bruising.” Jeannie handed a towel filled with ice cubes to Montana. “Were you up in the tree too, Ray?”

“No, I found her walking down the road headed here.” He gave Jeannie a look.

“Go get some coffee and get fixed up. I’m sure there’s a story in this somewhere. When you’re done, the first batch of cinnamon rolls should be coming out of the oven.” Jeannie pointed to the coffeepot and threw up her hands.

Ray escorted Montana out to the counter and returned with two cups of coffee. Montana cradled her face in the ice with her elbows propped on the counter. She looked so pathetic he went looking for a straw. After her second cup of coffee, he quizzed her and took notes.

“The part that bothers me is I never heard that car come down the drive. Swoosh, it went by, just like that.”

“If it was a hybrid, you wouldn’t have heard it.”

“Now what?” Montana asked.

Ray examined her face. “You’ll live, but I’d put some salve on your face. We’ll eat and then head to the ferry to see if we can spot the car and or those four kayakers. There shouldn’t be that many hybrids leaving the island.”

Ray handed her the first aid kit. Montana winced when she got off the bar stool and walked slowly to the bathroom. He guessed her pride along with her body was pretty bruised.

Just like Jeannie promised, she delivered two hot cinnamon rolls. “Edwina should be here shortly and she can fix you up some breakfast. Let me know if there’s anything more I can get you.” Jeannie headed back into the kitchen, passing Montana coming out of the bathroom.

Ray finished his cinnamon roll first and refilled their coffee. “Why are you so fixated on those two?” he asked Montana. “I must be missing something.”

She took her time and dipped a piece of roll in her coffee and ate it. “I don’t know other than I am. I just get this feeling she is clueless to what she is doing. I mean, I know she knows she’s having an affair, but I’m not sure…oh, I don’t know.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and sighed. “The world has goodness and evil. His evil needs to be contained.”

“I agree. And so do a lot of other people. But you have to let us do our job.” He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. “You seem to have a sixth sense about things. I know I’m probably going to regret this, but if the situation calls for it, and I keep you in a safe zone, do you want to help watch Sweet Cheeks and Big Daddy?”

She tried to smile, but winced.

“I take that as a yes.”

They finished their breakfast and exited through the kitchen. Jeannie asked, “Are you headed home?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Were you up all night?” Jeannie glanced at Montana, who nodded.

“Pretty much,” replied Ray.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Not really.”

She handed him a thermos of coffee and a container of cinnamon rolls. “Then you’ll need these.”

Ray’s only plan was to let his dog out and switch vehicles. Even though the Mustang was an unmarked sheriff’s vehicle confiscated from a drug deal operation, Ray thought it stood out. Up until now, he’d worked overtime to keep his personal life private, but…Somehow, Montana had inched her way in.