Hank took care to remain vigilant. He kept the three unused prepaid telephones in their original wrapping so he could be sure Marcia didn’t get tempted to use them to call her children. When she was in the shower or practicing the piano, he would examine the laptop computer’s history to be sure she hadn’t used it to get in touch with her daughter or with anyone else. He even made sure that none of the computer’s history had been erased since he’d last used it. He also kept checking for any sign of news. He checked the Chicago Tribune’s personal ads once a week for any communication from James Harriman.
A month passed in the mountains. The trees at the altitude above the lake were nearly all pines, so they didn’t change colors or lose leaves. But the mornings were all cooler now. The Dixons wore jackets for their early walks, and brought knitted caps and leather gloves that they sometimes put on. Later in the day the sunshine bored through the clouds and burned off the mists, but there was no question that fall had taken possession of the mountains.
One day Hank drove them out of the mountains and into San Bernardino, where they shopped for things that would help them extend their stay at the cabin into the winter. They bought tire chains, antifreeze, ice scrapers with snow brushes on them, pairs of boots, and jackets rated for subzero weather.
On the way home Hank stopped at a gun store and bought two sets of ear protectors and plugs, a pair of shooting glasses for Marcia, and a supply of 9mm and .45 ACP ammunition. On the drive home Marcia said, “Why all the ammunition? Have you seen something I should worry about?”
Hank said, “I thought you and I might go out and get some target practice to keep us sharp.”
“Who said I was ever sharp? I’ve never held a firearm in my life. And where could we even do that?”
“I found a few ranges,” he said. “But I thought maybe we’d be better off just going out into the wild country. Otherwise you have to provide identification and all that.”
“Won’t just going out and shooting get us arrested?”
“San Bernardino County has a lot of space where you can fire a weapon legally. It’s the biggest county in the whole country. It’s got more area than Connecticut, Delaware, and New Jersey combined. Once you’re ten miles outside of any town, you’re pretty much by yourself.”
“You still haven’t told me why we’re doing this.”
“It’s something I want you to learn,” he said. “You said you would be useful. Having a second armed person to cover me in an emergency would be useful.”
The next day Hank drove out Route 38 to the east of Big Bear, and eventually found a flat dirt road that must have been a firebreak where they could pull off the highway about a mile before the country got too rocky and uneven. He parked among some scrubby trees and walked.
When Hank judged they had gone far enough he studied the area until he found a low hillside he could use as a backstop. He set up a dead tree limb and anchored it in the sandy dirt at the foot of the hill. “This will have to do as a target.”
“Okay. What do I do?”
“First you learn a little bit about semiauto pistols,” he said. “They’re not wildly different from each other.” He unzipped his backpack, took out a small pistol, and held it up. “This is a Beretta Nano. It’s about as small as a good 9mm pistol gets, and it will probably fit your hand pretty well. This catch releases the magazine. On this model there’s another release on the other side of the grips, but that’s unusual. The magazine holds six rounds, and you can also put a round in the chamber if you want to carry it that way. I don’t. If I really expected to have to shoot seven times, I’d go somewhere else instead.”
“All right,” she said.
“You pull the trigger and the trigger bar pushes the striker back against its spring. Right near the end of your pull, the cocking lever frees the striker and it pops forward, hits the primer, and the round in the chamber is fired. The slide recoils, ejecting the brass casing, and comes forward again, letting the next round be pushed up into the chamber. You get to pull the trigger six times, and then there are no more rounds in the magazine. On the last round, when the slide goes back it stays there, with the chamber open like this.”
“Got it.”
“Watch how I load it.” He released the empty magazine and loaded six rounds into it, then pushed it upward under the grips.
“You have to charge the weapon like this.” He pulled back the slide and released it. “That lets the first round into the chamber.”
He had her put in the earplugs and fit the ear protectors over them, and then put on his own.
He turned toward the upright branch he had set up. He held the pistol in a two-handed stance and fired a round into the center. Then he handed her the pistol, grips first. “Your turn.”
He watched her imitate his stance, then adjusted her hands. “The left hand will help your right to hold it steady. You want the front sight dot to sit between the two rear sights. Put it on the target and you’re ready to fire. Don’t drag the sight off the target with your finger. Just use the last joint of your finger to pull it straight back. When you’re ready, fire.”
She fired and the round knocked a chip off the tree limb.