Chapter 14
My first impulse was to call Gina White, my old acquaintance in the FBI, the one law person I knew I could trust. I searched the contacts menu for several seconds before I remembered this wasn’t my phone. Since I couldn’t remember her number I called the only one I could remember, my Uncle Higheagle. No answer. Either he was asleep or out of range. I hoped for the former but thought the latter was most likely. He told me he might be away for the rest of the weekend, which probably meant somewhere so off the path that the wildlife needed permits to graze, and forget cell reception. A camping nut was my uncle. I waited for his voice mail then briefed him on my situation, one hundred words or less, then redialed and sent him Phil’s confession.
If my predicament wasn’t solved by t
