Like Smoke in the Forest

By Heman Harris

Sherriff Jim Barrette and the 'Chief' are called on to help find a missing couple.A killer stalks the mountains taking women at rabdom and they disappear. Bear poachers get upset with all the activity in their hunting grounds and decide to put a stop to who ever is creating the problem. Illegal bear parts, kidnapping and .poachers on the hunt and a killer that roams freely among them could out Jim's family in peril.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heman Harris
• Release date: Feb 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481938464

Heman Harris

Raised in New Brunswick Canada he spent most of his time in the surrounding forests and always wondered what else might live there. His time is divided beteen Florida and New Brunswuck Canada

Book preview

Chapter 1

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The knife made a sucking sound as he pulled it out of the bear.

Man, this here must be the biggest one left in these damn mountains, Charlie said, turning to the man holding the rifle. Why don’t you go down and bring back the cooler. Get that thar yeller one, rest of ‘em is full.

Yah, o.k., you’re right about the size. This one is bigger than any we see’d fer a long spell, He started through the woods toward the old logging road where they had left the truck.

At six foot two and a hundred and eighty-five pounds, Frank Healy, could still move through the woods silently. Reaching the truck with its old camper shell, he pulled out a large yellow cooler. As he closed up the back, he glanced down the rutted road behind him. A couple of hundred yards away sat a Jeep.

What the hell... he mumbled, as he looked around and sat the cooler on the ground. He slid the bolt on the rifle and snapped off the safety. I better get back and tell Charlie we got company.

Grabbing the cooler, he took off running. He was almost back, to where he had left his buddy when he saw a flash of orange through the trees. He left the cooler and cut through the woods. Crouching low, he saw a man kneeling down behind a fallen tree watching Charlie carving on the bear. Lifting the rifle slowly, he lined the man’s head up in his sights. The big rifle kicked when he pulled the trigger.

Charlie dove to the side, rolled and grabbed at the .45 on his hip and spun around. Looking through the bushes, he saw Frank wave.   

What the hell you shooting at, another bear? He holstered the gun and stood up.

Nah, just some city shit laying there watching you is all, said Frank, I’m going back to pick up the cooler I left yonder.

Charlie stood and looked down at the man sprawled on the ground. He wiped the bear blood off his hands and tucked the rag in his back pocket. 

Stupid bastard, whole damn mountain ta hunt in, you had to pick this here spot.

It was pretty had to tell the age of the man with half his head blown off. He was medium build, wearing an orange hunting outfit. Charlie bent down and picked up the rifle the man had been carrying. He turned as Frank came up behind him.

I’ll take this here rifle, said Charlie looks brand new. I need me a new gun anyway. A 30-30 Winchester carbine, just the ticket.

Yah, a good ‘un, said Frank as he patted down the body. Here’s a box of shells to go with that new gun. He handed Charlie the box, and checked the body’s pockets. Finding a wallet, he flipped it open. This ole boy had him a nice family down in Florida, two young ’ums and a fine looking wife. Yes sir, Mister William... P. Ferris came a long ways off to die.

Should have stayed the hell home then, ‘stead of up here spying on us, said Charlie. Anything else in there?

"Nothing we need, other than this four..four-fifty...five hundred dollars. Here, put two-fifty in your pocket and let’s cover this guy up and get back to what we was doing. Oh, wait a minute, let me check for them Jeep keys," said Frank. Pulling the keys out of a pocket, he started kicking leaves on the body.

Man, I hope ‘ole Ben don’t give us no fuss about having to kill this guy, said 

Charlie, who was on his knees scooping leaves and dirt on Mister Ferris.

He told us before, just get the job done and make sure there ain’t no witness, that’s what he always says. If'n somebody comes along, we do what we have to, is all.

Frank held the top while Charlie put the selected bear parts in the cooler. When they had finished, Charlie picked it up and they headed back to the truck.

I’ll take the guy’s Jeep down the road a piece, said Frank. Get it away from this area ‘case someone comes looking. You foller and pick me up.

Hell, in a week there won’t be much left no how, said Charlie.

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Chapter 2

He watched as the two poachers drove away in the two vehicles, Assholes, he mumbled. Dressed in green camouflage, he blended in with his surroundings. He heard gunshots, and had investigated and watched the poachers patting down the dead hunter, and cover him up. After they had gone, he went back and uncovered the dead man.  He unlaced the boots, pulled them off along with the thick socks, and set them aside, then pulled off the jacket, shirt and pants. He pulled out the hunting knife attached to the belt in a sheath. Tying the bootlaces together, he swung them around his shoulders. He balled up clothing and tied it with the sleeves of the jacket. The discarded wallet he put in his pocket. After checking to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, he started through the woods. 

Better than one of them department stores, he mumbled, tucking the bundle under his arm. 

Behind him the green feathery ferns that waved in the open space between the trees and bushes was as good as any for a final resting place. The chalk white skin of Mr. Ferris stood out like a tombstone on a front yard. He looked very unnatural in this quiet setting.

Several feet away the remains of the bear had already attracted some of the smaller forest wild life. By the morning, the smell of death would bring the large animals to feast on the banquet left on their

doorstep.

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Chapter 3

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He moved with sureness of someone raised in the woods. Not hurrying, but with the steady pace of a person that had an appointment to keep. An appointment that made a smile spread across his smooth face. His eyes shone with a cold inner light as he thought about the cabin on the lake.

An hour later, he skirted the log building. The woods grew close to the back and sides, the front faced a small cleared area down to the lake. He listened, hearing no sound he crept to the window. Careful not to make a shadow, he eased slowly forward and looked in. The one room cabin could be completely taken in from his vantage point. Inside, the double bed with its colorful blanket was made, and unoccupied. A pair of suitcases sat open on the floor. The kitchen area with its wood table and three chairs, showed no plates of food.  The interior was empty. He slipped toward the front, keeping his back against the rounded logs of the building. A high-pitched giggle of a woman came from the lake. A pair of towels lay folded on the sand.

Two heads bobbed around on the smooth surface. He could see the woman playfully splashing water toward the man. Her upper body rising up showing a flawless pair of tits that bounced as she jumped around. Droplets flipped off the brown nipples.  Perfect. 

He glided toward the water. His clothing making him almost invisible with the surrounding trees, so he was able to get to the edge of the water and squat down on his heels unnoticed.  He watched, feeling the excitement grow deep down and spread.

The woman grabbed at her husband and tried to duck his head under. She was facing the cabin as she swung around, and froze.

Ducking her body down so only her head was showing. She poked her husband.   Boyd, there’s someone sitting watching us, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Watching us, where?  He followed her look toward shore.

Right at the edge of the water, In front of the cabin, she said, whispering.

He squinted and searched the area, Hon, I don’t see anyone. Are you sure?

On the water’s edge an arm waved, Howdy folks, beautiful day for a swim.

The man in the water gasped, Oh shit. and reached for his wife.

What do you want mister? he called, pulling the woman closer. This is private property.

Yes it is and a beautiful place to be sure. Come on in, I’d like to talk to you about buying the place. A smile spread across his face.

I’m sorry but it’s not ours, and I don’t think the owner wants to sell.

Well come on in anyway, have a drink or something, he was still smiling but an edge had crept into his voice.

The warm water suddenly felt cold and goose bumps ran up the woman’s body.

She wished now she hadn’t talked Boyd into skinny-dipping. She glanced behind her to

the distant shoreline. Sensing his wife’s movement the man twisted his head around as 

well.

Way too far to the other side, besides you can never tell what you’ll attract when you’re bleeding, still smiling, the man waved for them to come ashore.

We’re not bleeding, said the woman, her voice barely carried to the man.

On the beach, he didn’t seem to move, but suddenly there was a gun in his hand and a shot rang out echoing across the lake. The man in the water slapped backward as blood swirled around him.

There is now. Come on in here. the voice was now a command.

In the water, the woman screamed, grabbing for her husband. Oh my God. Oh my God. Boyd speak to me ...BOYD.

Boyd surfaced, spitting water and clutched his bleeding shoulder. The deep grove cut across the top of his arm was bleeding between his fingers. The water around him turned a light pink.

Now, I had asked you nicely to come in, but you wanted to be stubborn, the man said flatly. It’s only a nick. You’re not going to bleed to death. Not unless I have to put another one over a few inches. Now get in here. He stood up, one hand hooked in his belt, the other hanging down holding the gun.

They came slowly, small ripples in their wake. As the water got shallow, he could see the man was of medium build, tanned arms and neck, doughy white body, little love handles above his hips, no muscle tone showed in his arms. One hand clutched his  shoulder while the other covered his privates. The woman shorter than her mate, covered

her chest with one arm, the other hung down where her long legs came together. Short

blond hair clung to her head. Her body was tan all over, and he could tell she liked the sun au natural.

Bashful are we? he smirked. His eyes roaming over the woman’s body. Put a towel around yourselves if it makes you feel better. He motioned with the gun toward the cabin.  Let’s go.

Who are you? Where are you taking us, said the woman, her voice pleading like a child. We didn’t much money with us. Is it money you want?

Right now I want you to head around the side of that cabin

What about our cloths? said the man, his eyes showing the fury he felt, but knowing he could do nothing but do as the man instructed.

Not to worry, Bo..yd the name was drug out, got that all taken care of. Just get moving.

He walked behind the pair, watching in amusement as they stepped on small stones and burrs, and hopped from one foot to the other. He stopped them just behind the building and reached down for the bundle of cloths he had left there. Pointing to the woman, he told her to put them on.

What about me? My feet are all cut up, I’m not used to walking barefoot, complained the man.

Give him your towel lady, and hurry up getting those clothes on.

She pulled on pants that were too big, but grateful to be dressed. Sitting down, she  pulled on the heavy socks, and then pushed her feet into the leather boots. The shirt was much too big; tucking it inside the pants; she pulled the belt as tight as she could. The knife sheath was empty.   

Boyd wrapped the second towel around his shoulders like a shawl, carefully pressing it down on the wound. He watched his wife as she finished dressing and stood up. She looked like a hunter whose cloths belonged to a much bigger person. He was sure they did.

My name is Boyd Marsh, and I demand to know where you think you’re taking us, he said, standing straighter and looking at their captor.

"You demand?  How would you like to demand with a hole in your forehead? What I demand, is you shut the fuck up and do what you’re told. I’ll drop you right here and roll your flabby ass under the cabin for the rats to lunch on. He pointed toward the woods with the gun. Now start walking."

There’s no trail through there, the woman said, turning to look.

You don’t need a trail to walk, the captor said, just move it or I’ll put another hole in your Boyd here.

The woman lead, stepped