Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“They let Ian know they’d be there a while and he sent coffee and tea to them.”
“Thanks,” I said and turned, ready to get in my truck, then stopped and turned back to Beau. “Amy’s dad wants to meet with her alone and that is not going to happen. So, you and I may have to—”
Beau jumped right in. “Stalk!”
“Surveillance,” I corrected.
“Time and place and I’ll be there,” Beau said eagerly.
I gave him a thumbs up before driving away. It was wise to have muscle on your side when you were thin and barely five feet four.
As soon as I got home, I grabbed one of my bags-to-go, and Mo was out of his slow stretch in a flash, ready to go. It gave me a thought and I hurried to my computer to Mo’s disappointment to do a quick social media post.
A reminder that bags-to-go are a necessity for preppers and there are different kinds of bags-to-go for different reasons or occasions. There’s the grab and go bag which is exactly what it is… grab and go. Going for a long ride in your car or a friend’s this is the bag you want to grab. You never know when you might break down, get caught in bad weather, or an emergency on the highway that delays for hours, it’s the bag you stock for such occasions. Then there’s the popular Bug-Out-Bag. That bag you grab when you have no choice but to evacuate and little time to do it. The big one is the Survival Bag. It’s for when pitch-the-tent evac is needed. There are some others as well, like a Vehicle Prepped Bag, a Pet Prepped Bag, and the one I just grabbed, my winter Hiking Prepped Bag for the short hike Mo and I are about to take. Of course, I change it accordingly with the seasons. Read all about them on my website. Watch for pics.
“All set, Mo,” I said and turned to find Mo with his vest clutched in his mouth. His vest held his necessities, food, treats, a collapsible bowl, a toy, and a dog first-aid kit.
He was as eager for a hike as I was.
He raised his one leg for me to slip the vest on and patiently waited for me to click the snaps shut. Once done, he was at the door and opening it, something he learned to do all on his own and the reason Ian installed a lock on my bedroom door.
It was cold, but not as bad as yesterday and the sun was out. More snow wasn’t in the immediate future, but that always was debatable with different fronts swirling around.
Weather is one thing a prepper keeps tabs on and growing up in a heavily forested area, I learned the signs to watch for a harsh winter from the old-timers. I keep an eye on the lack of or abundance of acorns and if the squirrels start gathering nuts early. An early departure of geese and ducks is another sign, and a sign no one likes to see is mice entering early into the house to get settled in for a cold winter. Then there’s the sign that puts a shiver in some… seeing a greater number of spiders in the house than usual. The thought had me thinking I needed to update that advice on my website.
I shook my head, clearing it of prepper stuff. I had other more important things to consider, but crazy as it may seem, I really enjoy prepping. It makes me less anxious and brings me peace of mind. I never want to be in that place again of panic when having to evacuate on short notice.
I sent Ian a quick text to let him know I was headed to the crime scene in case he was free to join me and set out on a hike in the pristine snow. I took a longer route so Mo and I could enjoy the beauty of the woods and I was glad we did. I got several gorgeous photos with my phone camera.
I looked down from the top of the ridge at the crime scene below and when we finally reached it and it had my heart aching. It always upsets me to see the woods disturbed. A large, enclosed tent had been erected protecting the grave, and a large area around it had been shoveled clean of snow. Some type of machine hummed far too loudly which probably disturbed the indigenous animals and sent them fleeing and hiding in fright.
I made my way down carefully, hoping my dad, Josh, or none of Willow Lake’s finest lingered around, otherwise I’d be chased away.
I was thrilled to see Stan step out of the tent as I approached it. He drew back the hood of the white, protective jumpsuit he wore.