“Good thing you have a cache of dark clothes in the Jeep.” Linda zipped up a black fleece jacket and yanked the floppy hood over her head. “Bad thing you have a bright red in-your-face one.”
“Good thing road lights are at a minimum and the blanket of night is veiling creation below,” I chirped, pulling on a spruce-green quilted zip-front vest. “And really good thing James-Henri willingly provided an address and directions.”
“He had nothing to lose.”
The only man-made light came from a lamp located at the lower section of the roadway, but at 8:15 the area was easy to see thanks to a waxing gibbous moon and a non-urban night sky packed with a profusion of dazzling stars. The winds had picked up since our arrival ten minutes ago, swishing through shrubs and whizzing around trees. Thrashing
