Stranded

river. Surrounded by the pine trees, the beach looked out of place. In season, it would be a perfect retreat, but in March it was empty.
    “If you had mentioned the forest,” Campos said in his rearview mirror to Otis, “I would have called one of the rangers.”
    “Wouldn’t be no need for that,” Otis told him.
    “You been here before?” Campos asked.
    “No, sir. Never been to Florida before.” He was polite and soft-spoken with a pronounced Southern drawl.
    “Then how do you know where to go?”
    Otis gently tapped two fingers to his temple and grinned but didn’t take his eyes away from his side window.
    “When people tell me stuff, I remember. I don’t know why it is, but I get a real good picture in my mind.”
    Campos shot Maggie a look but thankfully he didn’t roll his eyes. The trooper looked about forty. Old enough to have heard all kinds of stories, and Maggie could see he was also beginning to wonder about the validity of Otis’s claim.
    “There’s nobody around out here,” Campos said to Maggie. “Not this time of year. Milton is canoe capital of Florida. Blackwater River runs through the forest. A bunch of other creeks and tributaries flow into it. Coldwater Creek, Juniper, Sweetwater.”
    “How big is the forest?” Maggie asked.
    “Over two hundred thousand acres. Stretches all the way north to the Alabama state border.”
    Maggie glanced back at Otis. She had a feeling of dread. How deep into the forest would he take them? How long would he have them walking in circles before he admitted there was no dump site?
    To the west through a clearing in the thick forest, she could see storm clouds gathering. It wasn’t even six months since she had spent an evening in a forest in Nebraska. She had never experienced such a sense of isolation before. She wasn’t looking forward to repeating it. Instinctively she pulled out her cell phone and checked how many bars she had. It blinked between one and two, then none.
    Trooper Campos noticed. “Should be able to get reception,” he said, then quickly added, “in most spots.” He didn’t sound convincing.
    “After that big-ass tree up there,” Otis said, pointing up ahead to a huge dead oak, “there’s a little narrow road afterward to the right.”
    It was a landmark anyone would remember. Was that exactly what he was thinking?
    Campos slowed down but still almost missed the road. It was more of a path than a road. The overgrowth hid the tire tracks and the entrance. He stopped the SUV. Made sure the one behind him had stopped and given him enough room to back up. Then he yanked the steering wheel hard to the right and drove into the forest.
    The road curved, sometimes sharply. They bounced and jerked over the ruts. The road never widened. In several places branches scraped the sides of the SUV and Campos grimaced. The overhangingones threatened to do the same. Every once in while Maggie saw splotches of color, spring blooms. As the sky continued to darken with clouds, so too did their path.
    “How far are we going, buddy?” Trooper Campos asked, and Maggie thought she saw Otis grimace for the first time at the term “buddy.” “You sure this is the right way?”
    “Just a little bit more,” he said.
    A few seconds later, the SUV came around a curve and into a small clearing.
    “Here we go,” he said.
    Maggie had to admit it was the perfect isolated spot to dump bodies. Remote but with vehicle access. The only problem—there didn’t appear to be anything else. No cabin, no lean-to.
    But when they got out of the SUVs, Otis told them they’d have to walk to the actual site and he pointed to a footpath.
    “It’s just up the way through them trees.”
    “Are you jerking us around?” It was Demarcus.
    “Should be about a hundred to a hundred fifty yards up that way.”
    Otis went on to ask about getting the shackles from his feet removed.
    Troopers Campos and Wiley looked to Demarcus for instruction. Demarcus looked to Tully.
    “We’ve already come this far. Let’s at least check it out before the thunder and lightning get here.”
    Otis was right. About 100 to 150 yards through the trees they came to another clearing. This one was much bigger, wider and with tall grass and yellow wildflowers, a meadow in the middle of the forest. Trooper Wiley walked beside Otis as the prisoner, with his hands still shackled, led them to the center and stopped.Demarcus was close behind them, and Tully, Maggie, and Trooper Campos