2 A Deadly Beef (19 page)

"I
guess you’re right," Moose admitted, but it was clear that doing so
took something out of him.

We
were a hundred yards from the turnoff to Abel’s homestead when the
sheriff’s cruiser approached us on the narrow dirt road.  Moose
pulled off to the side and into the spent weeds to let the sheriff pass us, but
instead, the cruiser stopped when it got to Moose’s window.

"What
are you two up to now?" Sheriff Croft asked.

I
looked to see if Abel was in the back of the squad car in handcuffs, but there
was no one there but the sheriff.  Why did I feel so much relief when I
saw that?  I’d meant what I’d said to Moose, but that
didn’t mean that I didn’t hate the idea of that crazy old man being
locked up, especially not because of something I’d said.

"We
thought we’d lend you a hand," Moose said.  I could tell that
he was fighting a grin, but remarkably, my grandfather managed to suppress it
almost completely.

"Thanks,
but it’s no use.  If Abel wants to hide, it’s going to take
more than me to catch him out here on his home turf."

"Does
that mean you’re giving up?" I asked him as I leaned past my
grandfather to look the sheriff in the eye as I spoke.

"No,
it just means that I’m going for more reinforcements.  I fully
realize that Abel knows the land around here better than just about anybody
else, but based on what you two told me, I don’t have much choice."

I
wanted to tell the sheriff that we’d been mistaken, that we
couldn’t be sure that we’d seen Abel running away from the fire,
but I couldn’t bring myself to say any of it.  I’d told him
the truth, and there was no way that I could recant now, not and mean it,
anyway.

After
the sheriff drove off, Moose continued on.

"Are
we really looking for him ourselves?" I asked.

"No,
but we need some place to turn this truck around."

Moose
started to pull out when the weeds parted, and suddenly he found a shotgun
barrel pointed straight at his chest.

"You
both need to get out of that truck nice and slow, and nobody has to get
hurt," Abel said with a gleam in his eye, and I wished that the sheriff
hadn’t been so quick to leave after all.

THE FAMOUS MOOSEBURGER

As promised in the novel, the Mooseburger
contains no actual moose, though it is quite delicious nonetheless.  We
call these "stuffed inside-out burgers" when we have them at
home.  They offer a nice change of pace to the regular burgers we cook on
the grill or in one of our cast iron skillets on the stovetop.  Over the
years, we’ve experimented with several different fillings, but in the
end, it’s hard to beat a tasty cheese blend tucked away on the inside! 
Other options you might want to try if you’re feeling adventurous are
sliced mushrooms sautéed in butter, onions reduced to caramelized
goodness, crumbles of cooked bacon, different types of cheese, or just about
any other topping that strikes your fancy.  Just make sure the stuffing is
cool to the touch before you sandwich a modest amount between two of your
hamburger patties.

Ingredients

Ground Round, approx. 1 lb. (80/20 mix is
good for juicy burgers)
Worchester sauce, about 4 dashes
Salt and Pepper, just enough to season the beef
Cheese blend (8 oz. package works great), grated (we like Cheddar and
Mozzarella)
1 Tablespoon Butter

Extras include buns, condiments,
complementary sides, such as baked beans, potato salad, etc.

Directions

Lightly mix the salt, pepper, and
Worchester sauce into the ground beef, and then divide it into six to eight
portions, depending on the desired size of your burgers.
Flatten the ground beef by hand into rounds, and then, using waxed paper and
two saucers, sandwich the beef between the saucers and flatten them until they
are 1/4 inch to 1/8 inch apiece.
Add two to three tablespoons of your grated cheese mix (or whatever your
desired stuffing is) to every other patty and spread the mixture out evenly.
Top each cheesy patty with a plain one, pinch the edges and work the beef
together so that they don’t fall apart.  This will give you a
stuffed patty for every two flattened patties you began with.
Refrigerate the stuffed patties for at least half an hour before you cook them.
Melt the butter in the pan, and then cook the patties over medium heat for ten
to sixteen minutes, turning once, until the patties are done to your
satisfaction.  This will depend on the size of your patties and the
temperature of your grill or skillet, which can vary with each patty.
Check for an internal temperature of 160-170 degrees F for medium to well-done
burgers, and you’re ready to eat.
Add the patties to toasted buns, use any condiments you like, and enjoy!

Chapter 12

"Take
it easy, Abel," Moose said as he tried to keep his voice calm.  I
had heard that tone coming from him many times myself, and I hoped that
Abel’s shaking hands didn’t spasm and blow a hole through my
grandfather.  "We’re not here to hurt you."

"No
offense, but I don’t see how you could.  After all, I’m the
one with the gun," Abel said with a slight smile.  "Now I want
your truck keys."

Moose
started to hand them over, but Abel shook his head instead of taking
them.  "No, just throw them into the weeds over there."

My
grandfather looked skeptically at the area our captor had pointed out. 
"Abel, if I toss them in there, Victoria and I will never find them
again."

"Sorry,
but that’s the way it has to be.  You’re going to have to take
your chances, Moose.  Do as I say, now, I’m not kidding here."

Moose
flipped his keys out of the truck window as he’d been instructed, and I
noticed that he managed to hit a large clump of wildflowers, bitten by the
frost and withering away into stark bare stems and a few clinging brown
petals.  I was certain that it was the best he could do to give us any
hope of ever finding them again, and I silently applauded him for the accuracy
of his toss.

"Now,
step out of the truck, both of you.  Let me see those hands."

"Victoria, stay right where you are," Moose commanded, and then he turned back to
Abel.  "You don’t want my granddaughter, Abel.  All you
need is one hostage, and I’m the one who’s volunteering for the
job.  Why don’t we walk a bit down the road and you and I can talk
about this.  What do you say?"

Abel
shook his head.  "It just won’t work.  I promise that
I’ll try my best not to hurt her unless I have to, but I can’t
afford to just leave her here.  I’m sorry, but I need both of
you."

Moose
shrugged, and then he nodded to me to do as I’d been told. 

I got
out on my side of the truck, and honestly, I probably could have run away at
that point, but there was no way I was leaving my grandfather there to face an
armed Abel alone.  I obediently walked around the truck, and soon enough,
Moose and I were both standing there with our hands up in the air as though we
were being robbed.

Actually,
I would have greatly preferred that situation at that point.

"Where
are we going?" Moose asked as we started walking down the muddy lane in
front of Abel and his shotgun.

"Just
keep moving.  I’ll tell you when we’ve gone far enough,"
Abel said.

"What
should we do?" I whispered to Moose, hoping that Abel couldn’t hear
us.

"Be
patient," Moose said a little too loudly.

"Pipe
down, you two.  You’ve done
enough
talking already,
don’t you think?"  Abel’s words were punctuated by a
nudge of his gun in Moose’s back, and I decided it might not be a bad
idea to do as the man asked.  When I’d first met him, I thought he
was just a harmless eccentric, but he didn’t seem all that harmless at
the moment.  "I still can’t believe that you’d rat me
out to the cops.  I thought we were friends, Moose."

"We
are," my grandfather said.  "Look at it from our point of
view.  We had no choice, Abel.  The truth had to be told."

"You
wouldn’t know the truth about this situation if it walked up and bit your
tailbone," Abel said.

"Maybe
not, but at least I’m willing to listen, if you’d care to enlighten
me," my grandfather said.

We
walked about fifty yards around a bend, and Abel finally asked,
"What’s the use?  It’s too late for that to do me much
good now, isn’t it?  Okay.  Stop right where you are. 
That’s far enough, both of you."

I
turned to face Abel, and then I glanced back the way we’d just
come.  The truck was out of sight now, and I had to wonder what
Abel’s plan for us was now.  But the more I thought about it, the
more I realized that he probably didn’t even have one.  He was
playing this all by the seat of his pants, and I had a hunch that was bad news
for my grandfather and me.

My
grandfather must have been thinking along the same lines as I was.  I just
wished that he weren’t so vocal in his criticism.  "Okay,
Abel, you’re in control here.  So, what’s next?" Moose
asked him.  "Do you even have a plan?"

"Don’t
you worry yourself about that.  I’m working on one," the man
said.

As the
two of them were speaking, I looked at the shotgun in Abel’s hands. 
The barrel was rusty and pitted, and the stock had been repaired extensively
with silver duct tape.  Did the blasted thing even work?  I
wasn’t entirely sure that it was loaded, or that if Abel did manage to
pull the trigger, that anything would happen, but I wasn’t going to risk
it, and I hoped that Moose would bide his time, too.  After all, if we
just waited Abel out, the sheriff would be back soon with reinforcements. 
I didn’t want to see Abel go to jail, but it was better than the
alternative we were facing at the moment.

"Face
it, my friend.  You’re in over your head," Moose said. 
"Sheriff Croft is a good man.  He’s not going to hurt you if
you’re innocent."

"Of
course I’m innocent," Abel said, the barrel bobbing up and down as
he spoke.  "I never set that house on fire!"

"We
saw you there on the scene," Moose reminded him gently. 
"You’ve got to admit how bad things appear to be for you right
now."

"I
don’t care how it looks," Abel said.  "I was minding my
own business enjoying the chill of the day when I smelled smoke.  I tore
off through the woods to see what was going on.  Anybody would have done
the same thing in my shoes.  I’d been there no more than ten seconds
when the two of you showed up, and that’s when I took off."

"If
that’s all true, then why did you run?" I asked.

"Why
do you think?  I didn’t even realize it was the two of you two at
first.  I just heard a truck’s tires on the road, so I decided to
make myself scarce.  I knew it would be too easy to blame me if anybody
spotted me there."

"I
still don’t understand why anyone would even think that you had any
reason to set that fire, Abel," I said.

"Moose,
you know as well as I do that folks have been telling crazy stories about me
ever since I left town and moved out into the woods.  I’m sure that
in their minds, there’s reason enough to believe that I’m capable
of starting that fire, though I didn’t do it.  I will tell you this,
though.  I hate what’s been going on around here lately, and
I’ve done my best to keep out of every last bit of it, but if I thought
that I could have stopped it all with a fire or two, I might have lit them
myself, but the fact is, I didn’t."

"What
are you talking about?" Moose asked.  "What’s going on
around here?"

Abel
was about to answer him when we all heard sirens coming toward us. 

"This
could be your last chance, Abel," Moose told him.  "Give me
the gun right now, and I’ll make sure that nobody hurts you. 
They’ll have to shoot me before they get to you.  I promise you
that."

"Thanks
for the offer, Moose, but we both know that I’m better off on my
own.  There’s no way I could live one night locked up in a jail
cell.  It would kill me, plain and simple.  If you two know
what’s good for you, you’ll both butt out before you get into this
mess so deep you’ll never be able to dig yourselves out of it."

For an
old man, Abel was surprisingly spry as he suddenly tore off down the lane
toward his house, and then veered off into the woods, his shotgun firmly in
hand. 

In
twenty seconds, I doubted the best tracker the sheriff could find would be able
to locate him in the woods.

As the
police cruisers rounded the bend, Moose said, "Victoria, lower your hands
and follow my lead."

I
hadn’t even realized that they’d still been up in the air.  As
I did as Moose told me, I asked, "Care to at least give me a hint?"

"There’s
no time," Moose said.

Sheriff
Croft slammed his squad car to a halt, and a second later, he got out.  As
he approached us, the sheriff asked, "Where is he?"

"Who
exactly are you talking about?" Moose asked, doing his best to act as
innocent as he’d been the day he’d been born.

"You
know who I mean.  What’s your truck doing parked in the middle of
the road, anyway?  We had to go through the weeds to get around
you."

"Victoria
and I stopped so we could look at some wildflowers," Moose said.

Sheriff
Croft looked at him for a solid ten seconds, and then he turned to me. 
"Is that true, Victoria?"

"We
always collect some for Thanksgiving," I said, a blatant lie. 
"It’s a family tradition."

All
the sheriff could manage to do was to shake his head.  It was clear he
didn’t believe us, but there was nothing he could really do about
it.  "Go move your truck," he said as he motioned to his
posse, who were now all out of their vehicles.  "We’ll park at
Abel’s place," he told them, and everyone got back into their cars
and trucks as Moose and I walked back to our own truck.  For good measure,
I reached down and picked a few spent wildflowers along the way, just for the
benefit of anyone who might be watching us.  As I stood back up, I waved
to the advancing police cars, but if anyone saw what I’d just done, they
didn’t acknowledge it.