Free The Collectibles by James J. Kaufman

Shotgun in his arm. “Can I help you boys?” he asked.
    â€œI’m Preston Wilson, and this is my associate, Casey Fitzgerald. I apologize for the door, and I’d be happy to pay to have it fixed. I’m looking for an attorney named Joseph Hart. You know him? It’s important that we find him. We were hoping you could help us.”
    â€œMost folks who come visitin’ don’t knock. They just come on in. It’s the knock that got me worried. But you fellas don’t appear to be a problem. Don’t worry about the door. One of these days, I’m meanin’ to fix it. Save your money. We don’t need that neither. Now who is it you lookin’ for?”
    â€œAn attorney named Joseph Hart. He’d be about forty-six years old,” Preston guessed.
    â€œDon’t know no Attorney Hart,” the man said. Preston looked at Casey, who was shaking his head.
    â€œPeople hunt and fish around here, right?” Casey asked.
    â€œYep.”
    â€œYou hunt and fish around here, right?” Casey went on.
    â€œNope.”
    â€œYou know of any men who have come up here – men in their forties or so – to fish and hunt?”
    â€œYep, they come up here all the time, but I don’t know ’em ’cause I work in the mill.”
    â€œOkay, thanks for your time,” Casey said, as he turned around and walked carefully down the steps. Preston started to follow Casey. As he walked away, he heard the man say, “There was one fella who came up here to hunt and fish and stayed quite awhile. Nice guy. I remember him because he asked me how I liked this house and whether I could afford the rent. I told him I liked the house fine and the rent was real reasonable. He seemed happy to hear that, but I don’t know why. Come to think of it, he slept in one of them little cabins in the back for three, four days while he gathered stores and ammunition to go up into the hills. By the look of it, he was gonna stay up there awhile. I don’t know why they do that.”
    Preston turned and asked, “What did he look like?”
    â€œAverage, I guess,” the man said.
    â€œI don’t suppose you know his name?” Preston asked.
    â€œNope, sorry. Guy with him just called him Cap.”
    â€œWhy did they call him Cap, do you know?”
    â€œNo, I just have a wag.” Seeing the expression on Preston’s face he went on, “You know, a wild ass guess,” and laughed. “Not to be smart or nothin’, but I figured he might have been in the Navy by the way he talked, you know?”
    â€œWhy do you think he was in the Navy?” Casey asked, suddenly showing interest.
    â€œâ€™Cause when he asked me about the house and the rent and all he called me sir. Nobody ain’t ever called me sir. I asked him, ‘Why you callin’ me that?’ He said he was sorry, an old Navy habit. Then I heard the guy he was with call him Cap or something like that. Then they left. That’s all I know.”
    â€œIt’s getting late,” Preston said. “Is there any chance that any of those green cabins is empty? Could we stay there for the night? Do you rent them?”
    â€œThere’s one empty at the end. I don’t rent ’em, but some fella from Witherbee does. I got a key though. You want to rent it, it’s ten bucks in advance. And you gotta be quiet, and there ain’t no drinking. And stay away from the other cabins, these people want peace and quiet. Especially the lady in the third cabin. She’s had a hard time, and she don’t want no company.”
    Preston gave the man ten dollars, and he and Casey went to the cabin on the end. There were two beds, a table in between with one lamp, and a small bathroom. It looked good to both of them.
    â€œWe’ll stay here tonight, Casey, and in the morning, we’ll try to find a guide to take us up into these hills and see if we can find Commander