Timber Line

Chapter Twelve

There was nothing left in the A-frame to salvage, so Pierre LaRue had brought in a bulldozer to level the wreckage of the building and then bury it in snow.

Roger Stacy had told Joey to move into Oscar Brack's log cabin and had helped wipe it clean of its more odious bloodstains.

Remo told Stacy to double his guard on the copa-iba tree farm. "Make sure they have guns and make sure they know how to use them," Remo said. "Tell them to shoot anything that moves."

Stacy nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to sleep," Remo said.

Finally, he and Chiun and Joey were in the log cabin. LaRue had left after burying the A-frame next door. Stacy had gone back to the main camp.

Joey had built a good, roaring fire. Chiun's sleeping mat was unrolled on the floor in a corner, and he was sleeping.

Joey and Remo sat in front of the fire.

"Poor Oscar," she said.

"He was trying to save your life."

"So many deaths," she said.

Remo nodded.

"And more to come," he said coldly. "More to come." Idly, he pressed the buttons on the tape recorder he had found in the snow.