They showed up a little before nine, and once again, he and Willie were escorted into the board room. Mrs. Torres was already seated at the table writing on a yellow pad."Good morning, Willie, Errol. You need to be using your real name from now on."He glanced at Willie as they took their seats and agreed. "Yeah, we have been. What have you heard?"She got right down to business. "First of all, I was able to speak to the investigating detective on the case. He confirmed your version of the events and said the boy, Benjamin Jackson, gave them a surprisingly detailed account. He also confirmed that the case was still open, but only because you haven't been located to make a statement. And you were right; they didn't have a clue who they were looking for."Next, I reached the DA's office and spoke to the Assistant DA who was assigned to the case. I told him that I was representing the person in question and asked if they were planning to pursue any kind of prosecution. He said they probably. I braked, a surge of annoyance filling me. Two thick trunks were almost touching, leaning across the track like sentinels. It'd take three hours and a power saw to get the jeep past them. I sighed and squeezed out of the vehicle. Nothing wrong with feet, and at least I was dressed for the part. The trunks loomed over me menacingly as I ducked under them, and a shiver ran down my back. They'd be gone soon, I thought as I carried on up the trail.A mile further on the timber thinned and the trail finished in the clearing I'd seen from the chopper. I stopped and wiped my forehead as I examined the scene. A couple of horses and three cows grazing placidly on the two or three acres of springy turf; a stream hurrying along one side of the clearing, falling from the steep slope above me; an old-timey cabin with a wisp of smoke leaking out of a clay chimney. Hell, I thought, as I started towards it, the damn thing looks as if it grew from seed. Two hundred years old, maybe. It must have been.
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