Page 77 of Forest Proximity
“Oh.” I cut him off in surprise. Of course he’s out here to get the prized terrorist turkey of the Biddeford Forest Preserve. Everyone who spends time out here wants a piece of that bird. “No.”
He frowns into the trees.
I purse my lips, considering how to handle this guy. “Here’s the thing. Turkey season ended weeks ago.” I continue to explain the hunting laws of the state of Maine, which this guy should already know. I don’t want to tell him that he could be ticketed and lose his hunting license if I turn him in to the game warden.
As much as I don’t want him poaching—or leaving trash in the woods—I don’t enjoy this part of my job. I hem and hawaround what I need to say. Where’s all the fire I’ve felt about this guy for the past few weeks? Something about his low-budget ghillie suit makes me have pity for him.
Before I say what I have to say, Stevie comes up behind me, holding out her hand for this random guy to shake. “How are ya?”
So much for keeping her safely away from the man with a gun.
“Good.” He holds out a shaggy hand. “I’m Greg.”
Stevie’s smile is like a sunbeam through the trees. “Whatcha doing this morning?”
“There’s a monster turkey around here.” He jostles his gun. “It attacked my daughter a while back.”
Ah.That’show I know this guy. His daughter was the little girl who got trampled by Butterballsy. Everything makes sense. He isn’t trying to bag a trophy turkey out of season. He wants justice. This changes things.
“Ah.” Stevie grins. “Vigilante justice. I like it,” she says with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve had a few run-ins with that thug. He’s a monster. Have you had any luck?”
What? No, Stevie. I’m all for vigilante justice, but I need her to discourage Greg from poaching. There are legal ways to deter a giant bird—not that I wouldn’t shoot him myself if the opportunity presented itself.
I have to clear up some things before Stevie suits up and helps him. “Listen—”
“No luck today,” Greg answers at the same time. “I haven’t been out here as much as I need to with work and all, but now ...” He kicks a pebble into the grass.
“Now . . . ?” Stevie asks.
She’s a nosy little thing. Usually it’s part of her charm, but this time I need to jump in. The underlying desperation on Greg’s face stops me, though.
“I got laid off.” He won’t quite look at either of us. “I’ve got all the time in the world ... now.” There’s an angry edge in his puff of laughter.
Stevie’s mouth hangs open. “I’m so sorry,” she says, like she didn’t just meet this guy.
“It’s all good.” He kicks another loose rock at his feet. The man is like a storm cloud trapped in a bottle. “Something will turn up. Until then, I just—”
I frown. This guy is going through it, and I understand why he’s doing what he’s doing. The last thing he needs is to be arrested by a game warden, though. “Listen, you can’t—”
“Say no more.” Stevie butts in, holding up a hand and shaking her head. “We totally get it.” She loops her hand around my arm, tugging me away. “Anyway, we gotta run. Be safe out here.”
Stevie drags me toward the trail with all of her weight, but I need to talk to this guy. Now.
“Hang on.” I peel her hand off my arm. “Give me just a minute,” I murmur with a gentle smile.
“Adam, please don’t,” she begs softly.
“Trust me.” I wink.
Stevie’s freckled cheeks flush. “Okay.”
I turn back to Greg, whose unnaturally green ghillie suit is never going to do its job. I lower my voice to protect his ego. “Here’s the thing. I hate that turkey as much as you do. I can’t turn a blind eye to poaching, though.” Even though I want to poach that stupid bird myself. “I can’t, man.”
“I know, I know.” Greg runs a hand over his forehead. “Do whatever you gotta do.” The frustration in his tone tells me to turn him in because things couldn’t get much worse. His Oscar the Grouch costume suits him at the moment.
“I’m not going to do anything just yet.” I clear my throat. “But I think we can work together.”
Chapter 29
