Jack_ Secret Vengeance - F. Paul Wilson [28]
“He’s not going to eat it, is he?”
Mrs. Clevenger looked up with a surprised expression. She tapped her dog gently on the back with her cane.
“You know you’re not supposed to do that. Remember the natural order—no interfering.”
The dog looked at her.
She sighed. “You’ve gone and done it, haven’t you.”
The dog moved away and sat at her side.
Jack felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the big man staring down at him.
“You’re trespassing on my property.”
Uh-oh.
“Just riding through.”
“You can’t miss the signs.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts. I’m going to have to fine you.”
“What?”
“Don’t you think that’s fair?”
Fine? What was he talking about?
“Come on,” Mr. Foster said. “It’s my land. You’ve used it without my permission. Fair or not? Yes or no?”
“Well, I guess … what do I owe you?”
He smiled. “Hard labor.”
“What?”
“Spring all of Jameson’s traps and pull them up. Think you can do that?”
“He already has,” Mrs. Clevenger said. “More than once. And then he’s thrown them into the spong.”
Mr. Foster gave him an appraising look. “Have you now? Well, seems there’s more here than meets the eye.”
“Oh, there is,” Mrs. Clevenger said, her gaze fixed on Jack. “There most certainly is.” She looked at Mr. Foster. “There’s something I need to discuss with you in private.”
Now they both looked at him and the message was clear.
“I guess I’d better get to work.”
They both nodded.
“Bring them to the truck,” Mr. Foster said.
As Jack hurried toward the spong he wondered what they’d be talking about and why he couldn’t hear.
7
“That’s all of them,” Jack said as he tossed the last of the piney’s leg-hold traps into the back of Mr. Foster’s pickup.
The bearded man nodded with approval from where he leaned against the passenger door.
“Good job. You’ve worked off your fine. Now, don’t let me catch you trespassing again or I’ll have to think up something else. Mrs. Clevenger says you come here often with a couple of your friends.”
Jack glanced at the old woman where she stood down the trail with her dog, staring into the spong area.
“So does she.”
“She has my permission to be here. You do not. I want the trespassing to stop.”
No way, Jack thought. The Pine Barrens were like an extension of his backyard. He didn’t care who had official title to the land, he reserved the right to explore it.
“We don’t hurt anything.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you being hurt.”
“We know the Pines. We’re careful.”
Mr. Foster shook his head. “Nobody really knows the Pinelands. It’s been a dumping ground for a long time.”
“You mean like bodies? I’ve heard the Mafia—”
Mr. Foster chuckled. “Ah, if only bodies were the worst of it. Things—some not always dead—have been deposited here for millennia.”
“‘Deposited’ or dumped?”
“Let’s just say ‘hidden’ and leave it at that. Especially in this area. That was why I bought this particular parcel—back in the day when you could still buy pieces of the Barrens.”
“So … you know your land pretty well?”
“Pretty well, I guess. I haven’t been over every foot of it.”
“Do you know about the men who dug up the mound east of here?”
His eyes narrowed. “Mrs. Clevenger told me. They had no right.”
“They said the body we found made it a crime scene and they didn’t need permission to investigate.”
“Did they look as if they were investigating?”
“More like excavating. Do you know who they were?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Foster offered no more, so Jack was forced to ask, “Who?”
He looked away, toward the lowering sun. “No one I can do anything about.”
Jack looked too, and saw Mrs. Clevenger and her dog approaching. He was a little miffed at her for tattling to Mr. Foster, but supposed she thought she was looking out for him.
All water under the bridge. What he really wanted were answers, so he turned back to Mr. Foster.
“What were they looking for?”
“Remember I told you about things hidden in the Pinelands? That was what they