Dangerous Undertaking Read Online Free PDF Page A

y’all missed the truck?”
    “That’s the interesting part. We’d already checked and re-checked that road. As recently as yesterday afternoon. Seems like our boy Dallas went for a little drive last night.”

    I wedged my knee against the dashboard as the patrol car took another sharp jolt from an exposed boulder. The dull ache in my shoulder was beginning to sharpen.
    “Dirt road?” I grumbled. “This ain’t much more than a two-rut footpath.”
    “Shouldn’t be much farther. Dead ends at the railroad bed. That’s how the hikers found the truck. They were walking the tracks.”
    Another rough and tumble quarter mile passed, then the road curved and we emerged from the forest shadows into the brighter light of a clearing. In the sunshine stood Dallas’ rusted red pickup. Beside it was parked another patrol car. Deputy Hutchins stood beside a young man and woman who wore small backpacks and looked rather bewildered. Their fall foliage hike had turned into quite a different outing.
    We got out and Reece introduced us to Shane and Liz Colbert. They had started walking the rails from a more accessible crossing a couple miles to the south.
    “Glad you folks recognized the truck and phoned us,” said Tommy Lee.
    “We heard the description on the TV, and we didn’t see anybody around,” said Shane Colbert. He looked at his wife sheepishly. “We kinda hid in the bushes in case that crazy man came back.”
    His young wife nodded in agreement and reached out to take his hand.
    “You were good to stay. And you were smart to be cautious,” said Tommy Lee. He turned to Reece. “What have we got?”
    His deputy shook his head. “I walked the tracks a hundred yards in each direction, Sheriff. There ain’t no sign of him. It’s like he vanished into thin air again.”

    “I work for a god-damned power company and have no electricity. Otherwise I could offer you some coffee.”
    The man who introduced himself as Fred Pryor stood outside the door of the construction trailer and made the apology.
    “Who backed into it?” asked Tommy Lee.
    “I don’t know. Happened overnight. I discovered it this morning when I arrived. Just one more thing to deal with.” He glared at the nearby utility pole lying askew with its black snaking cable dangling in the dust. Then he looked at my hand dangling from the front of my shirt.
    “You were shot up at the Willard funeral, weren’t you? Saw it on the news. Damndest thing I’ve ever heard of.”
    I studied him more closely. Fred Pryor didn’t look like a power company senior executive. He wore a green wind-breaker with an “R P & E” insignia, jeans, and black cowboy boots.
    “What the hell got into that boy?” he asked.
    “We don’t know,” said Tommy Lee. “Still looking for him. Something about their land. Borders this project, doesn’t it? You had any dealings with the family?”
    Pryor’s face flushed. I didn’t know whether he was insulted or embarrassed that Tommy Lee thought he might associate with the Willards. “Not me. Our real estate division might have talked to them. Their property is part of the watershed, and it could be affected should we decide to raise the lake level.”
    I looked at Tommy Lee and saw his eye squint. Fred Pryor had gotten his attention.
    Tommy Lee and I had driven to the construction project when a search around Dallas’ truck proved fruitless. The site was within a few miles of the main rail line and would be a logical destination if Dallas were on the run. I looked beyond our powerless host and down the bulldozed valley to the mammoth wall of gravel and stone rising up at the narrow point between the steep ridges.
    Just yesterday, I had read an article in the newspaper about the Broad Creek excavation. The first phase of the hydro-electric project had progressed on schedule and under budget. Soon Broad Creek would be dammed, and as the new lake began to form, Ridgemont Power and Electric would focus on the construction of the