I’mbusy.
With the binoculars pressed against my face, I scan the winding main road leading up to Gnarly Pines Logging Company. Set up high along the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in Pennsylvania, my business is angled so I can see over the thickly wooded landscape, down the hill, and nearly into the small town of Caddawalk from almost any angle. The thick mass of trees that blanket the landscape up here has begun to change color, making the scenery breathtaking. The sea of colors feels endless. It’ll only get better as September progresses.
But I’m not standing on the front porch of my cabin to take in the beautiful explosion of color as the death of summer nears.
With how many times I’ve searched this road over the course of the week, I’m surprised that I don’t see it in my dreams.Anxiously, I keep watch for some movement.Anymovement at this point. Other than the hourly workers who had just gotten off work and headed home after a long day an hour ago, the road has been empty.
Shifting direction, I use the binoculars to scan the rest of my property. While I can’t see all two hundred acres, I’ll know if someone or something heads my way. With the countless trail and infrared motion-sensor cameras all over the property, there’s no place that I’m truly blind. All the cameras send alerts to my phone.
“Ledger?!” Wes calls out again.
I don’t notice the deep rumble of annoyance in my chest until the vibration of it jars the binoculars against my face.
What the fuck does Wes want?
The beginnings of a headache are starting to form—the subtle throb in my temple is a sure sign I’ve been unconsciously grinding my teeth. Or maybe it’s from the lack of sleep lately. Shit, maybe because I haven’t been eating much. Anxiety is a bitch.
Where are you,Blair?
“Ledger! You out here?”
Unclenching my jaw, I pull the binoculars away from my face and begrudgingly call back, “Yeah, I’m on the north end of the porch.”
The wooden floorboards beneath my booted feet vibrate as a set of heavy footsteps approaches. Just as I turn around and lean my lower back against the wooden railing, Wes comes into view.
My friend huffs when he sees me. His short, thick, dark goatee—speckled with grays—shifts ever so slightly as he presses his mouth into a tight line. He does this a lot when he’s frustrated with me. As always, after work, he’s covered in a fine layer of sawdust. The fact that he hasn’t showered or started dinner—which is typical for him after a long day—is telling.
“What’s up?” I ask, working to keep the frustration out of my voice as he comes to a stop before me.
Wes’s eyes narrow as he studies me. Slowly, and with a deep breath, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Everything good?”
“Everything is fuckin’ peachy,” I lie. I even manage to give him a half smile. “Why? Have you started caring about my well-being or something?”
He snorts. “Given that you’re in charge of my checks and you’re getting old, yeah I’m beginning to worry about you, friend. Can’t have you having a heart attack on me—not when I’m still saving for my beach house on a private island.”
Despite the tension gripping my insides in a vice so tight I can hardly breathe, I manage to laugh.
“You’re fucking set for life. You know that, Wes,” I point out.
My friend chuckles darkly. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”
I nod, “Glad to have cleared that up. Now, tell me what’s up?”
“Well,” Wes starts, his tone losing its teasing edge. “You forgot about payroll. At the end of their shift, a few of the guys came up to me asking about it.”
“Oh, fuck.” I squeeze my eyes shut, reach up, and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ll get to?—”
“No need,” Wes interrupts calmly. “I went in and took care of it. It should hit everyone’s bank accounts by Monday.”
My hand drops away from my face and I look back at him. “Thanks. Sorry about that.”
“That was no problem,” Wesley assures me. He pauses before adding, “The real problem iswhyit happened. You never let things like this slip through your fingers. This past week you’ve been incredibly distracted. I’ve let it go, but this? It affects business. Our guys know you’re good for the money. Since it hasn’t happened before, they weren’t too ruffled, but if this continues it won’t be good for us. Care to tell me what’s got you so preoccupied?”
I hesitate.
I need to tell Wes what’s going on, I’ve just been putting it off. Worrying about Blair’s safety is more imperative than dealing with Wes and his… Well, I’m not sure what his reaction will be. Maybe that’s part of the reason I haven’t spoken up yet. Wes’s a good man. He’s got a dark side, but he’s managed to wrangle it under control. The thing is, Wes believes the same of me.
I sell the lie well.
