"Last night, for one." He pocketed the two fifty. "Lots of lights off
in the woods a spell. Figured it was some city people. Local folks go
to bed at a decent time of night."
* * * * *
I stood there looking at him and John Kelley's nightmare crawled out
of the dim recesses of my mind where I thought I had buried it, and
squatted right between my eyes, like a big, friendly collie dog making
itself at home. Lights. Late at night lights. Lights like in a hundred
news reports I had filed and forgotten.
I opened my mouth to say something and then let it go. An old school
bus had ground to a stop out in front. The driver came in and I didn't
more than glance at him. Young fellow, tanned, wearing marine fatigue
pants and a white tee shirt. A vet, I thought. You see a hundred like
him every day.
He jerked a thumb towards the gas pump in front. "Need some gas, Pop.
About ten should do it."
The old man gave up figuring what I owed him and went out to fill the
tank. I tried to strike up a conversation.
"Beautiful country around here."
"Sure is. I like it best in the summertime."
"Do much fishing?"