He paused at the river’s edge to listen, but he was breathing too hard to hear anything. He took a few deep breaths then held one, straining for the slightest sound of rushing water, but hearing nothing. He tried again, but still nothing. He looked at the river in both directions, but he found no clue as to which way to turn.

He was about to head to his right when he heard the pop of a gun, followed by two more shots coming from around the bend to his left.

Max took off at a dead run.

CHAPTER 66

As Reed settled into his hiding spot, he thought about a movie he’d seen some years back, a story about three hundred Spartans who’d held off thousands of invaders by making a stand where the trail narrowed. The movie had been based on true events, and Reed appreciated the lesson: Choose the battlefield and you have the advantage. Reed thought that he had chosen wisely.

He sat on a hill overlooking the rapids, about fifty paces up from the river, a fallen jack pine in front of him for cover. He would soon know if his plan to send Lyle to Loon Falls had worked. He had decided to give his former father-in-law one hour to show. If Lyle didn’t turn up by then, Reed could assume Lyle had gone to Loon Falls and Reed would have a hell of a head start. If Reed’s plan hadn’t worked, though, Lyle would have no choice but to cross at the rapids, exposed as he waded across the chest-deep water. And like the Spartans, Reed would be waiting.

He had taken Pip up and over the ridge before coming back to set up his ambush, tucking the boy into his sleeping bag and giving him an energy bar for food. He’d said, “I’m gonna do some stuff in the woods tonight. I need you to stay here.”

Pip had looked at his father with empty eyes, and Reed had wanted to shake the boy. He didn’t need gratitude from his son, but this sulking was getting old. But Reed had taken a breath to let his frustration pass. Maybe the despondency worked in Reed’s favor. A numb Pip was less likely to run off again. He’d added one last touch to keep his son put. “Stay in your sleeping bag. The bears won’t hurt you if you stay in the bag.”

Pip sucked on the energy bar, not acknowledging that his father was even talking.

From his vantage point behind the stump, Reed had a clear view of the rapids, although the window of the firing lane was far narrower than he would have liked. And he would have preferred to be closer to the river than he was, but the trees at the river’s edge were too thin to offer cover. Reed would make it work; he had always been a decent shot with his nine-millimeter.

To his right, the sun touched the horizon. It would be dark soon and Reed’s advantage would be cut in half. There had been a gibbous moon out the night before. That might be enough light to see Lyle, but he’d be shooting at a shadow. Would it be better to give up his cover and wait in the thin scruff closer to the river? No. Lyle had a scope on his hunting rifle. He doubted that it was night vision, but he couldn’t take that chance. Lyle would be smart enough to glass the woods thoroughly before crossing. It was best to stay hidden behind his stump.