Million Dollar Question

Brunswick, Georgia Matthew's four-wheel-drive vehicle waited in the airport parking lot, as pre-arranged. The small terminal in Waycross supported an even smaller parking lot, and the truck stood out like a neon sign in a blackout. He unlocked the SUV, got in, cranked the engine, and tore out of the parking lot slinging gravel. It was late in the day, thanks to the time difference and a layover in Dallas, and he had a long drive ahead of him to get to Brunswick.

As he pulled onto Route 82 heading east, his thoughts turned to the time frame and how to get started with the game. Perhaps I'd better rethink my strategy before I find myself out of time and with no kills. The only solution was to get to Brunswick as quickly as possible, check out Doug's house and, if he was not there, get back on the road and cut across the state to the cabin.

Matthew hated being pressed for time; he hated being rushed. The pressure could cause mistakes, and he could not afford that-not when he was so new to this style of hunting. There were still some kinks to work out though, and work them out he would. Maybe, if he drove all night and part of tomorrow, he could get back on schedule. That is, if his prediction was correct and Doug Faust was, in fact at his second home in the mountains.