Marcus Acton walked up the drive to his home, his rifle, in a rifle scabbard, slung over his shoulder, a fishing rod in his left hand, and a string of fish he'd caught hanging from his right. His wife was waiting for him at the door. He held up the string of fish. "This evening we eat," he joked.

"That's better than last week." Jocelyn kissed him, carefully avoided the string of fish. "There's been a shooting out on Salt Lick Run. The radio's been full of it."

Marcus glanced vaguely in the direction of Salt Lick Run. "I didn't hear anything. What happened?"

Jocelyn shrugged. "Other than that there was a shooting, and that three people have been taken to hospital, the police haven't said much." She edged the fish away and hugged Marcus. "I'm glad you're safe."

"Me too," Marcus said as he dropped a kiss behind her ear. "I guess we'll get the full story on the evening news."

Later that evening Marcus sat down with his family to watch the news. He wasn't disappointed. The fires he'd lit had totally destroyed the cabin and the distilling shed. It'd also burned a few of the barrels stacked around the back of the shed. It was all good stuff. With that much damage the chances of the police finding anything to connect him to the camp were negligible. He was sorry to lose the site, but with the girl from Treasury learning enough to sniff around they would have had to shut down the operation sooner or later anyway.

It came as a shock that one of the cops had survived, and the news that the bodies had been found by some snoopy kid didn't go down well.

"Dina Frost deserves a medal," Jocelyn said.

"But it was Bruno who carried the policeman out," ten-year-old Bailey Acton said.

"Who's Bruno?" Marcus asked.

"He's a guy that works for Dina's mother's aerial photography business. He goes around with Dina a lot."

"How old is this young man?" Jocelyn asked.

Bailey shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe mid-twenties."

"Celeste Frost lets her daughter hang around with a man in his mid-twenties? I don't believe it."

"The retard's no risk, mom. He'd never hurt his precious Dina. The guy practically worships her."

"We do not call people 'retards' in this household, young man."

"But he's real stupid, Mom. I heard that he'd been left to chop up some firewood, and when he didn't turn up for dinner they found him still chopping wood, even as it grew dark."

"We don't go around calling people stupid either, Bailey."

"No, Mom."

Marcus let the family squabble pass over his head as he stared at the television screen. Two people had found those bodies even though he'd been sure nobody would discover them for months, if not years. How did they find them? And so quickly? Dina and her friend would have had to be close by when they dumped the bodies. That thought raised the possibility that they'd been seen. He worried about that for a while. Officer Heilmann had seen them before he was shot, but that had been from over a hundred yards away. The girl had had an inexpensive down-time telescope, but Marcus didn't think they'd seen them before he and Wilhelm shot them. It was just such a damned shame Wilhelm's shot hadn't killed the guy, then he wouldn't have any worries.

He tuned back to the TV when the Grantville police chief appeared. He snorted in disbelief when Press Richards claimed that they were pursuing several lines of inquiry and that arrests, although not imminent, were expected soon.That was all so unlikely.

"What's so funny?" Jocelyn asked.

Marcus gestured at the TV screen. "Press Richards. How often have you heard the police claiming they expected to make arrests soon?"

"Too often." Jocelyn turned his head. "Promise me you won't go out that way until they catch whoever it was."

He leaned closer and kissed her. "I promise." It would be an easy promise to keep. With the site compromised there was no reason for him to go out that way. Besides, he'd be spending his spare time looking for somewhere new to set up.

Wednesday, March 5

Marcus was threading a pipe when his boss tapped him on the shoulder. Linda Jane pointed to two policemen at the door of the workshop. "The police would like a word with you."

He blanked out for a moment. Could they have found something that connected him to the deaths on Salt Lick Run? But it was only for a moment. He glanced down at the half-complete job he'd been working on. "I hope this won't take long," he called out to the policemen.

"Just a few minutes of your time, Herr Acton," Heinrich Steinfeldt said.

That didn't sound like they had anything. He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands on it. "You want to talk out in the sun?"

"Sure," Blake Haggerty said.

Once outside Marcus led them to a sheltered spot in the sun. "So, how can I help you?"

Blake flipped open his notebook. "We understand you were out on the RingLakes yesterday?"

"That's right. I usually go out fishing on Sunday if I can get away. Caught half a dozen fish yesterday."

"How far did you go?" Heinrich asked.

"Go? On the water?" Heinrich nodded. "There's this nice little nook on the south side of the Gray's Run peninsula-the fish seem to love it there." It was also a long way away from the campsite. He mentally complimented himself for his superior thinking and planning. By having a stash of gas there the boat rental's records would show he hadn't consumed enough to even put him close to where the still had been.

"Did you see anything suspicious?" Blake asked.

"I was fishing," he said. "When a guy's fishing the only thing he worries about is what might be happening on the end of his hook."

"True!" Blake muttered sheepishly. "So you didn't see anything?"

"I saw a cloud of smoke a bit after midday. I think it might have been the fire they showed on TV last night."

"Maybe," Heinrich said. "Just a couple more questions. Our information is that even though you were fishing, you had a large caliber hunting rifle with you yesterday?"

"You bet I had a rifle with me yesterday. I had a bad experience a few years ago when I got treed by a wild hog." Marcus shuddered dramatically. "There ain't no way I'm going out without something that can deal with a pig. That bastard hung around all day and most of the night. Never again." The story was even the truth, as too many people would be happy to tell them. It'd taken a while to live down that little experience.

"Didn't you have a handgun?" Blake asked.

"Sure, but a little.380 ain't much good against a three hundred pound boar. It just pissed him off."

"What kind of rifle do you own?" Heinrich asked.

"You name it, I've got it," Marcus joked. "But if you mean what did I take out with me yesterday, that was a civilian version of the M-14." He shrugged. "It's a bit too much gun, but I'm a lefty, and bolt-actions and levers can be a real pain."

"A couple of years ago you installed a valve on a wellhead out on Salt Lick Run?" Heinrich asked.

Marcus nodded. "Sure. The Hart brothers wanted to tap a local wellhead rather than haul gas in for the still they had at their little primer manufactory. They had all the proper permits for it, so I installed a tap."