Page 87 of Axe Backwards
I picked her up and peppered her face with kisses. “Good job.”
“She’s walking?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. She’s standing and starting to cruise a bit, but we’ve still got time, thank God.”
Once we’d picked up the pots and pans, we took Ripley out for a walk so we could enjoy the warm sunshine. Tess’s jogging stroller was set up for roads rather than the trails behind Jude’s house, but she was delighted by the bumpy off-roading experience. For the first thirty minutes, she squealed and shrieked and incessantly signed for “more.” The excitement soon caught up with her, and she conked out, her head slumped to one side and her mouth open.
“You want a job at the company? I can make it happen.” Although our family timber company had been sold, Jude still worked there and had recently been promoted to director of operations. In a strange twist of fate, Chloe had purchased the business and kept on Jude and Gus and the rest of theemployees. It was flourishing, and Jude always talked proudly of his crew.
I shook my head. “I know nothing about timber, and I have no heavy machinery certifications. I’m hoping to find something that feels like me.”
As we continued along the path, I found myself more at ease. It took a while, but I finally got Jude chatting about what was going on with him.
“It’s the most dreaded time of the year.”
“You barely have to work in the summer. How is that dreadful?”
“We don’t cut in the summer, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a hundred other things that have to be done.” He grunted. “And now that I’m the director of operations, I have to deal with the Department of Fish and Wildlife.”
I frowned at him, confused.
“The bats.” He let out a beleaguered sigh. “The bats determine whether we’ll have a good year or not.”
Fuck. I was still lost.
Reading my mind, he went on. “The northern long-eared bat. They’re critically endangered and essential to the ecosystem. And their primary habitat encompasses a big chunk of our land. Every year, the DFW sends out their consultant to chart bat colonies, determine which caves and tree systems they’re nesting in, and designate the areas where we’re not allowed to work.”
“You can’t work at all?”
Jude shook his head. “We can’t even drive in the area. I get it. Bats are important. They eat their body weight in mosquitos every day.”
That was impressive. Given the massive number of mosquitos in Maine, I could see the necessity of preserving them.
“But they’re a wildcard. We can’t make solid plans until we know where they’re nesting. So it’s a mad scramble once we do, working on which routes and roads we can use and how to be most efficient and productive with what we’ve got.
“Between the bats and the FBI and Parker’s investigation, I can see the appeal of taking off. Gus got a job out west last year. He was ready to start over before Chloe came back. And now I’m thinking that might be my next step.”
“Where?”
“Oregon.”
I’d spent a lot of time there. Beautiful mountains, rivers, and many, many trees. Jude would be happy. It was basically Maine on the Pacific Ocean.
I nodded. No one understood the allure of picking up and getting out of Dodge like I did.
“But I’m stuck here, at least until we make some decent progress on the investigation.”
He dove into explaining a series of seemingly unconnected incidents. A fire in the machine shop, small thefts and break-ins over the course of a year, vandalism, missing financial records, and a brutal attack.
“What happened to Cole, that’s not related, is it?” My mind was spinning and sick with guilt. My family had been dealing with far more than most would be equipped to handle, and all the while, I’d been thousands of miles away, completely oblivious.
Cole being framed was deeply messed up, but how did that connect to timber and narcotics and my father’s criminal enterprise?
“Absolutely connected. FBI is still investigating.” He whistled for Ripley, who’d gotten a little too far ahead. “He was sniffing around city hall, making connections between the Huxleys and some shady corporations. He found the chief out at aconstruction site in a blizzard with Denis Huxley and noticed he was wearing one of Dad’s watches, and boom, he ended up being a target.”
“Denis Huxley?” my stomach clenched.
Vic was working with them. She’d complained several times about how difficult they were and how they made her jump through hoops.
