Counties. But he would hardly have named himself “The Lumberjack.”
Maybe Dan was leaving a red herring in the email. Make me think the stalker has noticed him. It would be a good way to throw me off his scent. But it doesn’t matter because I have no clue as to who is sending the emails. My suspects for who has been sending them are Dan; Caleb; my brother, Hayden; and Michael Rader. I thought Hayden was in Afghanistan when the email was sent, but then I found out he had been in Port Townsend. For weeks. The email that I thought was from my stalker said, “I’m in Port Townsend. See you soon.” And then Hayden shows up at my door the next day. As far as I know, he’s still living in Port Townsend, but I can’t let myself believe it’s him.
I don’t know where Michael Rader is. I haven’t kept track of him. I didn’t really have the means to keep tabs back then. But now I wonder why I didn’t when I joined the Sheriff Office.
Good question, I think.
“Megan? You still there?”
It’s Dan.
“Does anyone ever call you Lumberjack?” I don’t realize I say that out loud, but I’m thinking it.
He laughs. “Lumberjack? That’s a good one. I guess I did kind of dress like one the other night. And with the short beard, it’s not a bad depiction.”
“Lumberjacks use chainsaws,” I say, and try to make it sound like a joke.
“Yeah. And since you mention it, when are you going to come by the shop and pick up the piece I saved for you?”
Dan has a cabin up at Snow Creek where he makes wood carvings of bears, lighthouses and eagles in flight, among other things. He’s an artist with a paintbrush and chainsaw. He’s recently opened a little shop along the waterfront in Port Townsend. He offered me the bear when I was working on some murder cases over in Snow Creek. I didn’t take it. In fact, he asked me out, sort of, and I stood him up.
He contacted me again while I was involved in a case a while back and I finally gave in and went out for a drink with him. He said he would bring the bear the next time we went out. Clever way of getting another date. Well, it worked. We went out a couple of times and I grudgingly took the bear. Now it sat beside my desk. I like it, but I don’t like the idea of owning things. I have learned to travel light. My whole life until Port Townsend was picking up and leaving at the first hint of trouble. Now I had “stuff.” Up until the bear the only “stuff” I had were the audiotapes Dr. Karen Albright gave me when I concluded my therapy sessions with her. But they help sometimes. Help me get the past behind me. Help me with hidden clues about cases in the present.
“How about we meet for drinks and a sandwich tonight?” Dan asks.
Instead of answering, I ask him, “Have you gotten any funny calls lately?”
“Besides this one, you mean?”
He makes me smile. “I mean crank calls. Wrong numbers. Hang-up calls.”
“I run a business, Megan. What do you think?”
“Okay. Point taken. But listen, if you start getting anything you think is suspicious, I want you to call me right away.”
“Okay. Will you make the bad people go away? I mean, you have a reputation for finding your man. Or men.”
He said: “finding your man.” Just like the email from my stalker. The stalker probably wasn’t Dan, but I wouldn’t be able to unhear what he just said.
“Funny. You’re a funny man, Lumberjack. Seriously, do you promise to call me if you get any calls like that?”
“Sounds like you care about me. But, yes, I promise. So how about that date tonight?”
I have an attraction to Dan, but I’m not going to get serious with anyone. I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I’m not a very trusting person, and I’ve learned the hard way not to get too close to anyone or anything. Like the bear. I’d sell it if I thought he wouldn’t find out. He’s a nice guy. He deserves a normal girl. That’s not me. Anything but.
“The Tides,” I say. “Seven, unless I get called in. Then I won’t be there.”
“Understood, Detective. Sometimes I have emergency carvings, so I may not make it, either.”