Page 3 of Caught in the Axe
“I can’t. The woods are too thick and close to the road here.”
“And you drive that ridiculous Audi.”
“It has all-wheel drive.”
My brothers were always riding me about how impractical my car was.
He scoffed. “I’m sure that finely tuned German suspension is great for off-roading through forests and around moose.”
“Moose aren’t sacred around here or anything, right?” I didn’t remember that being the case, but it had been a long time since I’d been back. I’d traveled to India a few years agoand had been baffled by the way the world stopped for the cows that lingered in the middle of the road.
“God, city boy. You’re worse off than I thought. No, they’re not sacred, you dumbass. It’s a fucking moose. Fifteen hundred pounds of unpredictable wildlife. Is it a bull or a cow?”
Its gender was irrelevant. All that mattered was that it was in my way. I’d been in the car for almost four hours and was sleep-deprived and over-caffeinated. In this state, I’d do pretty much anything to get this show on the road.
“Fuck if I know. It’s giant. Think it’ll take off if I yell at it?”
Gus barked out a deep, full laugh.
Damn. If I’d gotten this much of a rise out of him, then he really thought I was an idiot. Gus was usually pretty deadpan.
“Fuck, I thought you were the smart brother. Just sit and wait.”
“But the police are there. And there’s so much to do.”
The next laugh was even louder, the sound of it sending a shock of irritation down my spine. “Brother. You’re in Maine now. Best learn to slow down a bit or you won’t survive.”
Chapter 2
Owen
For eleven solid minutes, the shithead moose did nothing but stand in the middle of the road and stare at me. While I waited—because I truly did have to wait; there was no easy way to reroute, and Gus had convinced me not to get out of the car—I did a Google search and determined that the antlers on its massive head meant it was a bull.
It also sported a large scar across one of its back legs. Like this asshole had seen some shit and lived to tell about it. So Gus had probably been right about not provoking him.
It figured that my first day in Maine would be filled with moose and police. I could only imagine what other headaches awaited me.
The parking lot was empty, save for a few Hebert timber trucks and three police vehicles. Yes,threepolice cruisers. Probably the entirety of the Lovewell PD force. Like they had nothing better to do in this town.
I heaved open the car door, hauled myself out, stretched, and steeled myself for what I was about to walk into.
And then my phone rang again.
“You’re back already?” my mother said without bothering with a polite greeting.
“I just got here. How could you possibly know that?”
She laughed. My mother was always laughing, despite all the shit life had thrown at her. Despite my mood, the sound made me feel a fraction lighter. Fuck, it had been far too long since I’d heard it in person.
“Owen Hebert. It’s been years since you’ve been home. I got texts from two people who saw you at the Pump and Sip in Heartsborough. According to them, you were gassing up a foreign luxury car and buying alcohol at nine a.m.”
Jesus. I couldn’t buy a six-pack in this town without my mother hearing about it. Or without some kind of comment about my car.
“I’m thirty-eight years old, mother.”
“Old enough to buy a six-pack of Allagash, yes, but it’s a bit early, don’t you think? And on a Tuesday?”
I dropped my head and shook it. Damn, the gossip tip line had even taken note of the brand of beer I’d bought. “I also bought beef jerky, peanut butter M&M’s, and dental floss. Did your sources include those details in their report?”
