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By mid-afternoon, they’d entered the part of the swamp Hallie was interested in. “Are we close to that island yet? I’d like to check it out first.”
“Straight ahead. We’ll just drift right in,” Sam said, cutting the engine.
The boat coasted up against the bank, and Sam quickly tied it off the trunk of a tree. Hallie watched as he picked up an old lever-action rifle from the back of the boat.
“What are you going to shoot with that antique?” Hallie teased.
“Don’t be fooled. It might be old and a little beat up, but it’s deadly on gators, snakes, and God only knows what other mean critters. We’re probably on their menus.”
“Just kidding, Sam. I’m actually grateful for the protection,” she said, following him off the boat. “This place should make a good base for observing activity around much of this end of the bayou without scaring off any potential cats. I’d like to set up these motion detection trail cameras on each side.”
Moving onto the interior of the island, she spotted a wooden shack raised on ten-foot-high stilts. She knew it was decades old by the weathered wood and rusty corrugated roof. Spotting a modern aluminum ladder and a pile of trash bags, an unsettling feeling came over her.
“Sam? I don’t think we’re alone out here.”
Sam joined her, walking under the structure to examine the scene. “You aren’t the first person to think this secluded island makes a good base of operations. Except I doubt these people are interested in birdwatching or finding rare cats,” he said, double-checking his rifle and eyeing the surrounding swamp.
A chill ran up Hallie’s back when she recalled the men she’d noticed traveling through the swamp. “I guess I should’ve mentioned that I’ve spotted some men walking through the woods this past week. I didn’t think they would’ve been coming this far back, or I would’ve said something. Besides, I’m almost positive they never saw me.” Hallie should have listened to her gut. Those guys gave her the heebie-jeebies when she saw them, and even now, thinking back, she didn’t feel any better about what they had been up to.
“Any idea what they were doing out here?” Sam asked.
“Walking, hauling stuff in backpacks and bags. My guess is they’re poachers or moonshiners. But that was several miles away. There’s no way they could’ve made it back here on foot.”
“Unless they also have a boat stashed in the swamp. Let’s hope they didn’t see you. My guess is this is one of the places they’ve been using to stay overnight. Maybe they were cooking meth nearby. Who knows?” Sam nervously turned around and returned to his boat.
“I’m sorry, Hallie, but this little safari is over. Folks like them don’t appreciate strangers nosing around in their business, whatever that may be.”
