Chapter 11
The forestry service cabin appeared through the dense veil of pine needles like a ghost from another era—a small, weather-beaten structure of dark timber with a rusted tin roof and a stone chimney that emitted no smoke. Julian pulled the gray sedan off the overgrown dirt track, parking it carefully beneath the thick, low-hanging branches of a massive cedar tree to conceal its gray body from any aerial surveillance.
The engine clicked as it cooled down, the metallic ticking sound the only noise breaking the deep silence of the surrounding forest. Julian switched off the ignition, pulled the keys from the dash, and turned around to look at his wife and child.
“Are you ready?” Julian asked softly, reaching over the seat to gently touch Elena’s hand. Her skin was cool, but her grip was firm.
“Lead the way,” Elena replied. She unbuckled her seatbelt, gathered baby Leo securely against her chest, and opened the rear door.
The crisp mountain air hit them instantly, smelling sharply of pine sap, damp earth, and distant rain. They moved quickly across the uneven forest floor, their boots crunching softly over a thick carpet of dry needles until they reached the weathered wooden porch of the cabin.
Julian pushed the heavy front door open with a dull squeak of rusted hinges. The interior was modest and dust-covered, featuring a stone hearth, a heavy oak table with two matching chairs, and an old-fashioned rotary landline telephone mounted securely on the wooden wall beside the pantry.
Elena stepped inside, letting out a soft sigh of relief as she settled into one of the wooden chairs by the table, resting Leo gently in her lap. The baby had fallen back into a light, exhausted sleep, his breathing soft and steady against her chest.
Julian strode immediately to the wall-mounted telephone, lifted the heavy receiver to his ear, and listened closely. A clear, steady dial tone hummed through the earpiece. He let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
“It works,” Julian murmured, his fingers rapidly spinning the heavy rotary dial to input the private extension number of his former college roommate.
The mechanical clicks echoed rhythmically through the quiet cabin as each digit fell into place. Julian waited through three long, agonizing rings before a heavy, gruff voice answered on the other end of the line.
May you like
“District chambers. Judge Miller speaking.”
“David,” Julian said, his voice cracking slightly with suppressed emotion. “It’s Julian. I need your help, and I need it right now.”
