Long Range (Joe Pickett Book 20)(89)

He lowered his profile and crabwalked through knee-high dead grass as he got close to the meadow. He crawled on his hands and knees to the edge and parted the grass as if looking through a curtain. Raising his binoculars to his eyes, he focused the optics.

The cabin, about two hundred and fifty yards away, was simple, weathered, and boxy. It was constructed of heavy logs and it had a faded green metal roof. There was a covered porch on the front with what looked like two ancient Adirondack chairs on it. A gray woodpile was stacked on the west side of the cabin, and on the east side, Joe could see the nose of a vehicle parked alongside it.

He sharpened the focus on his optics to see the R and D of ford on the grille, as well as the dr tom license plate. A thin curl of woodsmoke wafted up from the chimney.

Before Joe could scuttle back to confirm what he’d found, the front door to the cabin opened. Joe froze in place with the binoculars pressed to his eyes.

Dr. Arthur walked out on the porch and paused to sweep the forest with his eyes. He appeared to be in no hurry. He wore jeans, a canvas coat, and a floppy, wide-brimmed hat. Joe had never seen him look so casual. Arthur also had a heavy high-tech long-range rifle over his shoulder on a sling.

Joe knew that if he had a similar weapon, he could end it all that moment. Dr. Arthur would never know what hit him. After all, that’s how he liked it.

Arthur moved off the porch and took the two steps down to the grass. He continued to survey the surroundings as he did so. After gathering several lengths of cut and stacked pine, he turned back for his cabin. But before he went inside, he paused and turned around. Toward Joe.

Although it seemed practically impossible, Arthur seemed to stare directly at him. It was as if his gaze penetrated the twin barrels of the binoculars and pierced Joe’s eyes.

Then Arthur quickly went inside and kicked the door shut behind him.

*

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN he might have seen you?” Martin asked Joe in a whisper.

“I know it’s crazy, but it’s like he looked right into my eyes.”

The three men were gathered together at the base of a huge spruce. Martin and Smith had dismounted and secured their horses. They talked in low tones so their voices wouldn’t carry.

“What do you think?” Smith asked. “Should we call the feds in like they asked us to?”

Joe shook his head. “I don’t think so. Arthur’s truck is right there by the cabin. He could get in and just drive away and we’d never intercept him on horseback. By the time the FBI got here, he could be a hundred miles away.”

“Agreed,” Martin said. “We need to take him down ourselves.”

“Right,” Smith said, “but he’s got that rifle. If he knows we’re out here, he could pick us off one by one. We’ll never even see it coming.”

“Should we wait until dark?” Martin asked Joe.

Joe thought about it and again shook his head. “Maybe. But I don’t like it that he could drive away any time. I think the best odds for us taking him down are right now when we know exactly where he is. He might think he saw something, but he can’t be certain.”

“How do we do it?” Smith asked. “Tell him to throw down the rifle and come out with his hands up?”

“I don’t think that would work,” Joe said. “Arthur’s a doctor. He thinks he’s smarter than everyone else and he’s never been held accountable for anything. He’s already shown us he’s capable of violence. I doubt after all of this he’ll just walk out.”

“So what do we do?” Martin asked.

“We rush him,” Joe said.

Martin looked at Joe with skepticism. But he listened further.

*

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Joe climbed into Rojo’s saddle and nudged the horse forward through the trees toward the meadow. He lifted the handheld to his mouth and said, “Mike, are you in position?”

“Roger,” Martin said.

“Eddie?”

“Roger.”

“Keep your radios on and start yelling if anything goes wrong.”

Mike Martin had ridden his horse in a wide arc through the trees to the west of the cabin. He’d tied up and was to advance on foot through the timber and brush until he could clearly see the side of the structure. Eddie Smith had ridden around to the west. Both were to find good cover where they had eyes on the front door of the cabin. There was no back door.

Joe took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. His plan was audacious and he was glad Marybeth had not been there to hear it. Even now, after persuading Martin and Smith to go along with it, Joe was having second thoughts. Maybe calling in the feds and hoping they’d get to the location before Arthur left it was the prudent thing to do after all?

The germ of his strategy was something Nate had said when they’d found the location of the shot fired at Sue Hewitt.

Joe had asked, “How long does it usually take for a high-tech range finder to determine the distance and all the variables for the shot?”

“On average, fifteen seconds,” Nate had said.

Dr. Arthur was alone in his cabin and he didn’t have a spotter to call out the calculations for an accurate long-range shot. Which meant he’d have to guess if he had a target, or spend precious time determining the logistics. The rifle wasn’t meant or designed for close-in snap shots. It was heavy—a computer mounted on a synthetic stock.