Picture Me Dead

She was glad to have it anyway, she thought as she pulled it from the glove compartment and put it into her leather over-the-shoulder handbag.

 

David was already moving along the front edge of the property. At the moment, she thought, they could easily be seen across the low growing fields.

 

“David, where the hell are you going?” she demanded.

 

“To that line of trees.”

 

“We’re sneaking up on someone, right? David, if someone is looking right now, we’re pretty damn obvious.”

 

“Then get down.”

 

“The car is visible.”

 

He stopped dead. “Right. Go back and get it. Pull up behind those trees there, on the property line. Hurry.”

 

“You’re insane. No wonder the police are furious at you. I should just drive away.”

 

“But you won’t. You won’t leave me—and you know that Stuart was on to something.”

 

He lengthened his stride as he headed for the cover of the trees. Ashley swore and went back for the car, moving as quickly as she could. She cursed thinking that if anyone was watching, they looked incredibly suspicious.

 

She quickly moved the car down the road. What was apparently the far east line of the property had a stretch of fence along it, and the fence was bordered by trees and foliage. She exited the car, looking at the long line of trees.

 

“David?” she said, and realized she was whispering. As far as she could tell, no one was anywhere nearby. “David?” she said again, louder, her tone almost angry.

 

Gritting her teeth, she started walking along the line of trees, moving quickly. The fence was barbed wire, but she saw no sign of it being electrified. In fact, it seemed to be no more than a marker. Trees and foliage grew on both sides of the barrier. As she kept walking southward, the property line made a sudden jog to the right. After that, the neat rows of field suddenly disappeared, and it seemed as if she was in an overgrown jungle. A mosquito buzzed around her cheek. Swearing, she slapped at it.

 

“David, you damned idiot,” she snapped angrily, twisting around to head back. She was going to leave him. Her sense of responsibility didn’t cover maniacs who dragged her into something, and then deserted her.

 

She turned back in what she thought was the right direction. A moment later, she found herself in a field. Tomatoes. There was a man bent over a plant working, wearing jeans and a denim work shirt with the sleeves cut off. A cotton kerchief was tied around his neck, and he wore a baseball cap against the sun. Before Ashley could duck back into the trees, the man straightened. He was young; as he lifted his cap to wipe his brow, she saw that his hair was sandy-colored and short-cropped. He smiled at her. “Well, hey. Where did you come from?”

 

“I…wow…I’m sorry. I’m lost.”

 

His smile became one of polite skepticism. “You’re lost in the back of a field of tomatoes?”

 

He started walking toward her. There was nothing threatening in his behavior; he kept smiling. She noted that there was a basket containing bright red tomatoes where he had been standing. There was a bulge just below his hip. She was tempted to call out in Mae West fashion, Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

 

It was a knife. He came close enough for her to realize that he had a leather sheath attached to his belt. It looked like a big knife.

 

It was daylight. The sun was streaming down on a stretch of lazy farmland. The man was about her own age, smiling, apparently pleasant, and not alarmed at a trespassing visitor, merely amused.

 

She was still glad of the .38-caliber gun in her shoulder bag.

 

“So you’re lost…well, welcome anyway. Do you need to use a phone? Would you like to come up to the house for a glass of water or anything?”

 

“I have a cell phone, thanks.”

 

He nodded. “Can I get you something to drink? The sun can be brutal out here.”

 

No! All she wanted to do was get the hell away. She was torn between feeling like an idiot and suffering from a tremendous sense of unease. But if anything terrible was going on around here, it was unlikely that the young man would have invited her in for a glass of water.

 

And what an opportunity. She could talk to the man and see inside the house.

 

“I’m really sorry to have bothered you,” she said quickly. “I was looking for some property, and out here, well, finding a street address is nearly impossible. I’d thought that maybe, if I followed the fence…I thought the place next door might be the address I was looking for.”

 

“I doubt that,” the young man said. He extended a hand to her. “I’m Caleb. Caleb Harrison. Come on up to the house. It looks like a trek, but it’s not really so far.”

 

“Really, I don’t mean to bother you.”

 

“You’re not bothering me. Living way out here, I don’t see too many people, so I’m glad for the interruption. This is a back-to-basics kind of life. A lot of hard work, but time to smell the roses, too, you know?”