Difficult Run Read Online Free PDF

of Difficult Run where the stream emptied into the Potomac River south of Mather Gorge.   There was an otherworldly quality to the scene.   High cliffs framed a wide basin with the river swirling past as it traversed the bends in the river.   Viewing it, she thought that it was hard to believe this was only a few miles outside the urban setting of the nation’s capital.   It looked more like some undiscovered place in the far west.
    They walked back up Difficult Run to the crime scene.   M.J. stopped and looked around at the steep hills to the north and the escarpment to the south that bordered the stream some twenty feet below.   The trail was not very wide at this point, maybe eight feet.
    The killer or killers would probably have hidden on the hillside just up from the place where the Ridge Trail meets this trail and then jumped down to intercept and attack the boys, M.J. thought.   But why here?   Perhaps because it was so remote and the chances of being discovered so unlikely.   That meant that they had some familiarity with the park and especially with Difficult Run.
    “Let’s head back to your office,” she said.   “I think I’ve seen all I need to for now.”
    They hiked back up the Ridge Trail and then followed it in the opposite direction from the way they had come until it intersected with a wide gravel road.   “This is the Old Carriage Road,” Dodd said.   “It’s used a lot by runners, horseback riders, and bikers.”
    They followed the Old Carriage Road back to the main part of the park and then cut across to the Visitor Center.   When they entered Dodd’s office, M.J. looked at her watch.   They had been gone almost three hours. “How far do you think we just hiked?” she asked.
    “All told, I’d say about eight or nine miles,” he replied, adding, “We actually made pretty good time.”
    M.J. sat across from his desk.   “Does anyone stay in the park at night?” she asked.
    Dodd hesitated and looked down at his hands.   “Well … not officially,” he replied.
    “What do you mean not officially ?” M.J. asked.
    “I mean there’s no housing here for the site manager or any of the rangers.   We close the main gate at sundown and one of your marked cars makes sure there are no cars left in the parking lots.   After that, everybody’s supposed to be gone,” he replied.
    “Dodd, I know everyone is supposed to be gone, but is there anyone still here on a regular basis?” she asked with a note of irritation in her voice.
    He looked up and said, “Yes there is.   There’s a homeless guy with a camp back in the forest.   He’s a Vietnam vet.   Lives there with his dog.   He doesn’t bother anybody and we just leave him alone.   He was a Navy corpsman attached to a Marine unit and he’s administered first aid to some of the rangers when they’ve fallen and cut themselves, things like that. One time, he even set a broken arm until we could get the ranger to the hospital.”
    “So why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?” she asked.
    “Look, M.J., you know it’s against the law for anyone to have a permanent camp site in a national park.   The only way we could get him out would be to call you guys and have him arrested and we didn’t want to do that.   We actually like the guy and check up on him now and then to make sure he’s alright.   Like I said, he’s helped us out several times and he doesn’t bother anybody.   I hope you won’t report this to anybody,” Dodd said.
    M.J. thought for a moment and said, “I’m not going to report it, but I want to talk to him. When can I do that?” she asked.
    “I’ll have one of the rangers go by tomorrow morning and tell him to expect you.   His camp is behind a big rock outcropping off the Swamp Trail.   Not many people go back that way.   I think the name of the trail puts them off,” Dodd said.
    “I’ll plan on going to see him tomorrow afternoon,” she said.   “There’s one