Page 111 of Axe-ing for Trouble
“Tell me the truth. I’m freaking the fuck out over here. You rescued me from bad guys in the woods and then threw me on a plane, and now we’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Are we even in America right now?”
“Yes. We are in the state of Maine,” he replied far too calmly. “This lake is on the Gagnons’ land. It’s remote, without any proper roads.”
He pointed at a shed at the end of the dock.
“For years they would camp up here. They’d keep emergency supplies in the shed. Now that they’re all married with kids, they prefer the small cabin they recently built.”
“Apparently Finn was planning to fly Henri and Alice out here for a night, so the plane was ready. According to him, they come out here about this time every fall to celebrate some anniversary. So he checked in with them and brought us instead. My brothers gathered supplies, and Chloe and Parker are working through all the evidence you put on the drive.”
He hefted a pack onto his back, then picked up the axe and the gas can again.
“Let’s take some of this stuff inside. It’s a short walk up this path.” He gestured ahead. “We’ll get you warm and fed and talk about everything.”
With a nod, I shouldered the other large backpack. Instantly, my shoulder screamed.
Jude reached for it, but rather than passing it over, I adjusted it so it was balanced evenly, then picked up a tote bag and a water jug. My shoulder was fucked, and there was no going back now.
Silently, we walked up the dock and around the shed. Sure enough, about fifty yards from the shore was a small cabin. Made of dark wood with a green metal roof and two small windows in front, it looked like something out of a fairy tale.
It was one large room, with a small kitchenette equipped with a tiny table and two chairs, a large wood stove, and a queen-size bed.
A small loveseat sat in the middle of the space, facing the oversized back window.
A small bookshelf was filled with dogeared paperbacks, and pretty landscape paintings hung on the walls. There were lacy curtains and candles on the table. It was quaint and new and so much more than I expected.
“There’s a bathroom through there,” he said, pointing to a narrow door next to the kitchen. “Pump shower and a cassette toilet.”
I dropped the backpack, rubbing my shoulder. “This is nice.”
He nodded. “Told ya. It’s the Gagnons’ little escape. They come out here for romantic trips.”
I couldn’t help but smile. That was strangely sweet.
“I turned the electricity on. They’ve got solar and a battery bank, so the lights should work. The fridge takes a while to get cold, though. Water heater takes even longer.”
He hefted a cooler onto the countertop and began unpacking bags.
“How long?” I dropped onto the small couch, massaging my aching shoulder. “How long do we need to stay here?”
He took the satphone off his belt and placed it in the middle of the table.
“Not sure. Probably a couple of days. It’s not so bad.”
“It’s not that. I’m worried about everyone.” Dread formed in my gut like a lead ball. “And my mom and Hugo.”
He waved a hand. “Parker talked to the Boston police. They will have a detail at the hospital and with your mother.”
My heart lodged itself in my throat. “How?”
With a shrug, he set a roll of paper towels and olive oil in a cabinet. “I told you. Owen knows people.”
I stood, desperate to move. Otherwise my anxiety would overwhelm me. I unpacked sheets and towels, several sets of warm clothes, and plenty of food. The cooler was stocked with steaks and a bottle of champagne. Clearly Henri and Alice had big plans for the evening.
Jude led me out the door and around the back to a tiny woodshed and a small firepit made of large stones. He brought an armload of wood inside and got the stove lit.
“You rest,” he said. “I’ll finish setting up and make food.”
“Have you been here before?” I asked, a tiny twinge of jealousy catching in my throat. Had Jude brought dates up here for romantic rendezvous?
