Backcountry

Chapter 2

The next day, I left my small two-bedroom family home early and drove out to meet Henry at the bar. We knew that Steve was in Durant. It was just a matter of finding him. I tried calling three times last night, but it went straight to voicemail. Henry told me that he could reach out to some people and see if he could track Steve down. When I walked back into the Red Pony, all of the chairs were turned upside down on the tables. Henry was in the corner mopping.

"You ever stop working," I said walking over to the bar.

"When I am dead," Henry said putting the mop away.

"Any luck finding our friend," I said leaning back on the bar.

"About that," Henry said walking over, "I do not want to get your hopes up. But, someone did tell me that a young couple just moved into the old cabin up the road from here. Could be your Steve or someone else."

"Well only one way to find out," I said heading toward the exit.

"Wait," Henry said grabbing his jacket from behind the bar, "I will drive you up there myself. An added protective measure."

I was about to say something but then stopped. I knew it was better than to try and convince Henry to let me go alone. I followed him out of the bar and to his 1958 green GMC Blue Chip truck. We drove on the main road but right before we got to the town center, we pulled onto a gravel road that leads right into a heavily wooded area. After a few moments, Henry stopped in front of a small wooden cabin. There was a small incline that leads to the red front door.

"This is the place," Henry said turning off the car.

I let out a sigh and looked at the one-story house. There was a nice wooden patio that ran along the entire front side of the house. They hadn't found the time to decorate the outside of the house. To the right side of the house, there was a chimney that had smoke coming out of it. A good sign.

"It's now or never," I said getting out of the truck, "Wait for me."

Henry gave me a slight nod.

I began walking out of the house and then stopped. Turning back toward the truck, I took out the pistol from my winter jacket.

"Keep an eye on this," I said giving it to Henry.

I turned back around and let out a sigh before ascending the wooden steps to the front door. Part of me wished that Steve was behind that red door, that way I could have an ally when searching for my father. The other part of me though wished he wasn't there. I am much better at doing things on my own. I have for the majority of my life. It would be easy for me to just turn around and leave. Stopping in front of the door, I found myself knocking unconsciously. There was no hesitation.

Within a few seconds, a woman answered the door. She was well built and she and I both had long dark brown. It looked as if she had just gotten out of bed, as she was in grey sweatpants and a navy sweatshirt that read NAVY in yellow letters.

"Hello," she said, "Can I help you?"

I paused for a moment but then asked, "Does Steve McGarrett live here?"

She seemed drawn back by the question, "Yes. He does. What do you want with him?"

"My mom left a note," I said digging into my jean pocket, "That had a phone number on it with his name above it. But when I called, a Danny Williams picked up. He said that Steve would be here in Durant."