Chapter 6 - An Unexpected Witness
By the third day at the cabin, the fever had broken, leaving Adrian lean, hollow-eyed, but lethally alert. His body was a furnace rebuilding itself through sheer spite and protective will. He spent hours teaching Mia simple things—how to distinguish the call of a blue jay from a crow, how to step without crunching dry pine cones, how to hide behind the thick trunk of an ancient hemlock if he ever whistled twice.
She absorbed everything with that startling, sponge-like brilliance children possess when their whole world has shifted on its axis. To her, Adrian was not a convicted felon or an ex-enforcer; he was a mountain giant who could split logs with a single swing and carry her on his shoulders so high she could touch the cedar boughs.
On the third afternoon, while Mia was napping inside, an old Dodge pickup rattled up the washed-out logging trail.
Adrian was out the side door before the engine cut, the lever-action hunting rifle Julian had stashed beneath the floorboards resting steady in his hands. He blended into the porch shadow, thumb resting on the hammer.
The truck door creaked open. An older woman stepped down. Silver hair tied in a practical braid, faded canvas chore jacket, and steel-rimmed glasses. It was Martha Vance, the county clerk who had stamped Julian’s deeds twenty years ago—and who had known Adrian since he was a boy hauling illegal moonshine across the county line.
She didn't look at the rifle. She just carried a cardboard box loaded with powdered milk, canned vegetables, and a carton of fresh eggs.
"Lower that iron, Adrian Vance," Martha said dryly, walking toward the porch steps. "If I wanted you caught, there’d be six state cruisers behind me instead of fifty dollars' worth of groceries."
Adrian slowly lowered the barrel, though his posture remained coiled. "How did you find this place, Martha?"
"Your brother didn't file this cabin under his name," Martha replied, setting the box down on the picnic table. "He filed it under yours, fifteen years ago, three days after you took that plea deal for him. He wanted to make sure you had a roof over your head when you got out. He never forgot what you gave up."
May you like
Adrian’s breath caught in his throat. Julian had never told him.
"Sterling’s men were at the county records office yesterday," Martha added, looking him dead in the eye. "Flashing badges and five-thousand-dollar suits. Offering cash for an unlisted parcel map. I gave them the coordinates to the old limestone quarry three ridges over. That’ll buy you until dusk."
