Fogbound: A Lin Hanna Mystery (31 page)

“Someone’s
coming,” Sue whispered, grabbing Lin’s jacket, “We need to get out of
here.
 
Let’s climb up this
bank—the road is right up there—we’ll be safer out in the
open.
 
When we hit the road, run for
the car as fast as you can.”
 
She
dug her hiking stick into the bank and started up, slowly but deliberately.
 
Lin did the same.

Suddenly they
heard a voice yelling, “Stop.
 
Stop,
or I’ll shoot.”

Lin’s heart
almost stopped, and she felt as if she was going to choke, but she plunged
ahead dragging herself up the steep bank right behind Sue.
 
A deafening blast split the air, and Lin
instinctively flattened herself against the bank in some vines.
 
A second blast followed the first, but
both seemed to be a bit off to their right.
 
They could hear the sound of pellets
hitting bark and leaves tearing.
 
They also heard the sound of their assailant moving toward them.

“Up,” Sue
wasn’t trying to be quiet now. “Get up now.”
 
She shoved ahead and disappeared into
the mist at the top of the bank.

Lin shoved off
from where she lay against the bank, trying to gain secure footing with the aid
of her stick.
 
Her right foot found
a secure spot higher on the bank, but her left foot slipped into what felt like
a depression, twisting violently.
 
For a moment Lin froze, unable to move because of the pain.
 
Then, from somewhere, she found the strength
to shove her body ahead.
 
The
shoulder of the road was just above.
 
She could hear the sound of someone moving toward her.
 
Her left ankle hurt when she put weight
on it, but she managed.
  
When
she reached the roadside, she saw Sue already running toward the car.
 

The mist had
lifted just a bit as Lin started toward the overlook where they’d parked.
 
She tried to run, but all she could
manage was a painful jog—her left ankle screaming at her every time her
foot met the ground.
 
She thought
she heard footsteps behind her, but she was afraid to turn around and look.

She reached the
car, finally.
 
Sue had already
started the engine.
 
As Lin turned
to open the passenger door, she glanced back hurriedly.
 
The fog was settling in once more, but
she managed to get a quick look at the person who had emerged behind them.
 
There, standing by the road, a shotgun
in his hand was Luke Taylor.

***

Sue drove as
fast as the fog and the law would allow heading south toward Deep Gap.
 
She was totally focused on her driving,
not saying anything.
 
Lin was quiet
also, still trying to deal with the shock of seeing that Luke was the one
chasing them.
 

Finally, she
found her voice, “I saw who it was,” she said, “I saw who shot at us.
 
You were already in the car, but I saw
him.”

“Well, who the
hell was it, don’t keep saying that, tell me,” Sue was almost yelling at her.

“It was Luke,”
Lin stammered, “Luke Taylor.
 
I
can’t believe it but there he stood, with a shotgun in his hand.”

“I’m sorry, I
yelled,” Sue apologized, “It’s just the stress talking.
 
I didn’t mean to sound angry.”

“It’s OK,” Lin
tried to smile but couldn’t, “I was scared too, but he didn’t shoot again, when
he saw me, and I know he recognized me, he just stood there and didn’t shoot
again.”

Lin shifted in
her seat, trying to reach her shoe to loosen the laces.
 
Her ankle was throbbing.
 
“I think I’ve hurt myself—hurt my
ankle.
 
I stepped in some kind of
hole and twisted it.”

By this time
they’d reached Jeffress Park.
 
Sue
pulled into the empty parking lot.
 
She got out of the car and went around to the passenger side and opened
the door.
 
Lin turned sideways so
that Sue could reach her foot.
 

Sue slipped the
shoe off Lin’s foot and carefully removed her sock.
 
The ankle was already quite swollen and
her foot was turning black and blue.
 
“I think we’d better take you to the ER.
 
This needs attention.”
 
Lin tried to protest but it fell on deaf
ears.
 

“You know those
shots were wide to our right,” Sue commented as she exited the parkway to
Highway 421 at Deep Gap.
 
The fog
was even worse here, but at least they were on a four lane divided highway.
“That may have been because the shooter couldn’t see us in the fog,” she
couldn’t bring herself to call Luke’s name.
 
Not wanting to admit he was their
attacker.

“But he could
clearly see me when we reached the road,” Lin commented, “and he made no
attempt to shoot.
 
Just stood
there.
 
Maybe he missed on purpose
earlier.”

“You know we
have to report this,” Lin was trying to get past the pain in her ankle but with
little success.
 
Her words were
strained and she was almost in tears.

“Yes, we do,”
Sue said, “but who we report it to is our choice.
 
I vote for Mark Scott, I don’t trust
Dave Winkler to do anything about it.”

Lin said
nothing, but she hated the thought of having to report Luke for shooting at
them.
 
She really liked the young
man and found it hard to believe he attacked them.
 
I guess I’ll have to give up on that
handcrafted cherry desk for Neal she thought.
 
Then she had another thought—if
Neal knew she was hurt he’d probably want to drop everything and come back
right away.
 
She couldn’t let that
happen.
 
He needed to finish his
business in Flagstaff first.

 
She hastily made Sue promised that she
would let Lin be the one to talk to Neal about her injury; that she wouldn’t
try to call him herself. “I’ll talk to him tonight,” Lin said, “He’s expecting
me to call then anyway.”

“That’s your
business entirely,” Sue said, “I won’t say anything to him.”

By this time
they were back in Boone, and soon Sue was pulling into the entrance to the
emergency room at Watauga Medical Center.
 
She went inside and asked for assistance getting Lin into the
building.
 
A young aide came forward
with a wheelchair.

“What happened
to you?” she asked in a cheerful tone.

I guess she’s
supposed to be upbeat Lin thought, but her own mood was far more grumpy.

“Twisted ankle,
I was hiking and fell and twisted my ankle,” she grumbled.

Sue had grabbed
Lin’s bag from the car and she went into the reception office to take care of
the necessary paperwork while the young aide took Lin back to one of the
examination rooms.
 
By the time they
got back there, Lin was beginning to feel hot and itchy—especially her
hands, and her face and neck.
 
She
glanced down at her hands; a red rash had appeared on her palms; it extended to
her fingers and up to her wrists.
 
As the aide helped her to sit on the gurney she glanced at the mirror on
the wall opposite and saw that the same rash had appeared on the right side of
her face and neck. What’s this, she thought; then it dawned on her—the
vines she’d been leaning against when she’d flattened herself against the bank must’ve
been poison ivy.
 
She was instantly
grateful she’d had on a jacket and jeans; at the same moment she became aware
that she was itching violently.
 
Almost instinctively her hands moved toward her face.
 
The aide saw what she was about to do
and grabbed both her arms.

“Don’t,” she
said, “Scratching will only spread the rash—and don’t touch your hands to
any other part of your body.
 
Just
sit tight,” I’ll be back in a moment with something to wash you off. Then I’ll
help you get out of your jeans so the doc can examine your foot and leg.
 

And make it
easier to administer that big shot of antihistamine you’re going to stick in my
backside, Lin thought.
 
She’d had
poison ivy before.

***

It was almost
two hours later when they left the hospital.
 
The doctor wanted to see Lin again the
first of the week to check the ankle after some of the swelling had gone down,
but the x-rays had revealed no broken bones.
 
The diagnosis was a severe sprain and
he’d prescribed some pain killers to help her rest, wrapped the ankle lightly
with an ace bandage, and told her to spend the rest of today and tomorrow with
the foot elevated, using ice packs to reduce the swelling.
 
“Keep the poison rash covered with the
ointment I’m prescribing.
 
It should
be much better in twenty-four hours with that shot—it’s a strong
anti-histamine,” He’d instructed.
 
Lin, already growing sleepy from the painkillers she’d been given, could
only nod in agreement.

Sue drove her
home and got her settled on the sofa, her foot propped on pillows.
 
She got some frozen peas out of the
kitchen and fashioned an ice pack. “We’ll tackle getting you upstairs later
on,” she said, “Right now I’m going out to get your prescriptions filled and
buy some more frozen peas.
 
I’ll be
picking up something for lunch what shall I bring you,” it was already early
afternoon.

Lin declined
any food.
 
She really wasn’t hungry.
She only wanted to rest.
 
She was asleep
before Sue got back to her car.

***

 
By the time Sunday morning rolled around,
Lin was feeling much better.
 
The
ankle was still painful but the swelling had subsided substantially.
 
The poison ivy rash was still red and
raised, but the violent itching was much less.
 
The ointment was a bit messy, especially
on her hands, but she was managing even that pretty well.
 

Sue had called
Pat Dane on Friday; Lin was officially “off work”, at least until she saw the
doctor again on Monday.
 
Sue herself
had worked half a day on Saturday, after making sure that Lin could manage on her
own for a few hours.

The biggest
hurdle Lin had faced was telling Neal about what had happened—not just
her injury, but also the fact that Luke Taylor had taken shots at the two of
them.
 
Actually, she’d started not
to tell him about that, but at the last minute, recalled her own “honesty”
pledge and decided this was something best not postponed.

Of course,
Neal’s initial reaction had been to say he was going to drop everything there
and fly back immediately; however, Lin had managed to persuade him that he
needed to stay and conclude his business with the house and planning for his
move.
 
She pointed out that he would
be there in a week anyway and there was nothing he could really do.
 
Besides, an extra trip would be a big
dent in the budget.
 
Reluctantly, he
agreed, making her promise that she and Sue would report what happened to the
authorities. They planned to do that this morning, having stuck to their
original decision to talk to Mark Scott and the FBI agent rather than the local
sheriff’s department.

Now, Lin was
struggling to get ready for their breakfast meeting with Mark and the
agent.
 
She still couldn’t put any
weight on her foot, and she couldn’t see how she could manage a much-needed
shower. “ I’m not in a cast so the ankle doesn’t have to stay dry, but I don’t
think I can stand on one foot that long,” she complained.

“ I have just
the thing, hang on a minute,” Sue said, heading for the basement.

She returned
shortly with a plastic patio chair. “These were stored down there, evidently
when Frank bought that nice patio set we’ve been enjoying.
 
It’s a bit dusty though, let me rinse it
off before you get in.”

The chair was
just the ticket.
 
Lin could bath all
over, even wash her hair without assistance.
 
She felt like a new person, and she could
hardly wait to get out of the house after being confined with her foot elevated
for the past couple of days.

She and Sue had
carefully reviewed all the information they had about all of the cases, and
they had also thought through what had happened when they were walking in the
woods on Friday—before Luke had forced them to leave.
 
Sue had downloaded and printed some of
the pictures Lin had made of the plant that was growing in abundance, as well
as the bare patches that looked as if someone was digging.
 
She’d also made note of the tools she’d
found stashed in a neat pile behind some brush—hoes, cultivators, garden
shears, and a stack of burlap sacks.
 
“Too bad we don’t have a picture of that.
 
I was getting ready to have you come
take a photo when I heard someone moving about and had to leave,” she
commented.

“Well, I think
we have enough to convince Mark Scott to look into that area
further—hopefully, the agent will support him,” Lin finished wrapping the
ace bandage around her ankle and reached for the crutches, “Let’s go, we don’t
want to be late.”
 
She could hardly
wait to get out of the house.