Stone Cold

26

Twenty-two miles away, Joe and Latta were outside the cabin in the dark, gathering wood from a snow-covered half-cord under the bobbing glow of Latta’s headlamp. Without electricity, there were two sources of heat inside: the fireplace and a woodstove in the master bedroom. They needed enough of the soft pine to get them through the night, and each had already delivered an armload.

The windows of the cabin glowed with warm pinkish light from the kerosene lamps inside. The sky had cleared and the starlight turned the snow on the ground from white to aquamarine. Emily waited inside at the window, watching them, her head a silhouette. Daisy was beside her with her front paws on the sill and her nose pressed against the glass.

“First real cold night,” Latta observed.

“Yup.”

Since they were out of Emily’s earshot, Latta asked, “So we can expect the task force to show up tomorrow morning?”

“That’s what Agent Coon told me,” Joe said. He needed to knock the snow off each length of wood before stacking it in the crook of his arm. “Midmorning is more likely. He said they’re arming up and getting the vehicles ready tonight and the DOT promises the roads will be open and clear an hour after sunrise.”

“Assuming there’s no wind,” Latta grumbled. “It’s never just the snow. It’s always the damned wind.”

“Yup.”

Latta paused and looked hard at Joe. “What do you think? Am I gonna be okay after this?”

Joe said, “Probably not. You’ll lose your job, for sure. But if you cooperate with the Feds you might stay out of prison. That’s probably the best you can hope for, I’d suspect.”

“What about my pension? You think they’ll let me keep it?”

“I don’t know, Jim. Director LGD has her own way of doing things.”

“I’ve heard,” Latta said, shaking his head. “I’m surprised I made it all the way up to badge number six in seniority. Now I’ll get busted and you’ll move up a notch.”

“I really don’t care about my badge number,” Joe said.

“Well, this ought to work out for tonight,” Latta said, nodding toward the cabin as if to reassure himself as well as Joe. “We’re lucky he keeps some food in the place, even though you took care of that tonight.”

Two hours before, Joe had tracked a wild turkey in the pine forest on the east side of the cabin and killed it with a blast from his shotgun. For dinner, the three of them had roast turkey breast, canned potatoes, and half a jar of green beans. Latta had located the owner’s liquor stock as well and had placed an unopened bottle of Evan Williams bourbon on the counter for later.

“We’ll have to keep track of everything we use so we can repay the owner when this is all over,” Joe said. “I might even pay him a visit to thank him in person.”

“He’s a prick,” Latta said. “He’s got a nice place, but he’s one of those rich guys who bends your ear telling you how much better everything is in Florida. And on and on about the damned weather. I don’t care that it’s warm in Florida. It’s also humid and filled with bugs. Just send him a check.”

“Why does he come here, then?”

“Who knows? Maybe Daytona Beach isn’t so wonderful in the summer.”

Joe looked toward the cabin and asked, “Do you think Emily is doing okay?”

“Yeah, she loves it. It’s like camping. You’re going to have a tough time getting your dog away from her, though.”

“You should get her a dog, Jim.”

“I have enough trouble in my life as it is,” Latta said, grunting as he stood erect with his load of wood.

“Yeah, I guess you do.”

As both men trudged from the woodpile toward the cabin they heard the phone ring inside. When Joe looked up, Emily was gone from the window.

“Who in the hell is calling?” Latta asked in a desperate whisper.

“Maybe Coon or my wife,” Joe said. “I gave them the number here.”

“But what if it’s someone else?” Latta said, and let his load of wood clatter to the snow. Then, shouting: “Em! Don’t answer the phone!” He sidestepped the dropped wood and ran toward the cabin.

Too late. Joe could see her straining her arm up from her wheelchair and bringing the receiver down to her face.

When Joe came inside with his load of wood and closed the door behind him by leaning back against it with his butt, Latta appeared panicked and Emily frightened by her father’s reaction.

“Tell him what you told me,” Latta said to his daughter.

“Some man called.”

“Did he identify himself?” Joe asked. “Did he ask for me?”

“No. He asked if my dad was here and I told him he was. He asked if we were okay.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him we were fine.”

“Did he ask who was with you?”

“Yes. I told him there was another game warden here — my dad’s friend Joe.”

Latta said, “Jesus, Emily.”

She was hurt. “Dad, if I did something wrong…”

“It’s okay,” Latta said. “You’re not in trouble. Just think back to every word that was said. Think, Em, did he say his name?”

“No. But he seemed happy to hear we were here. I asked him if he wanted to talk to you and he said no, he just wanted to make sure we were safe.”

Latta and Joe exchanged looks.

“He said to stay here until they could send someone to help,” she said, looking from Latta to Joe. “He said not to tell you so it would be a surprise. Then he hung up.”