Deadly River Pursuit

by Heather Woodhaven

  “I don’t know how you can dislike—”

  “Heated pineapple is the worst. Shouldn’t be part of dessert or pizza.”

  He fought not to laugh. She only got this worked up when she’d reached the point of exhaustion, which meant next she would either be laughing hysterically or crying. He really didn’t want to push her past the point of no return.

  She shifted onto one leg, her other hip jutting out. “Anyway, the point is, do we have a deal?”

  “Like I said it’s just—”

  “Your job.” Her lips twitched to the side. “Henry, we both know you aren’t doing this as official business, but I...” She took a deep breath and her eyes softened. “I appreciate it. So why don’t you help ease my guilt and sleep with one ear open on a real mattress?”

  His back reminded him of all the muscles that were still angry with him due to last night’s ill attempt at sleeping in the truck. “Well, I could take a small break for cake, I suppose.” He reached to open the door. “But there’s no need for guilt.” Nora cared about everyone, almost to a fault. She hadn’t yet learned that being vulnerable only gave people the upper hand. Whether they took advantage of it or not, they had power. Ironically, she was one of the people that had taught him that hard lesson.

  “Think of it this way. You might’ve caught the intruder if you were closer last night.”

  Despite her monotone, he caught the tiniest bit of a wobble in her voice. “You knew I was out here?”

  “I put two and two together this morning.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t catch the guy.”

  “You stopped him from hurting me.” She flashed him a wary smile as they walked side by side across the lot.

  “So I take it Frank wanted a chat.” He pulled his shoulders back. In the past, she’d vent, he’d give advice, she’d let him know she just wanted him to listen, and he’d fire back that what she really wanted was him to produce chocolate on the spot—which he usually surprised her by doing. Oh, how he’d loved surprising her. She had a special smile reserved for only those moments. A smile he couldn’t help but kiss. The memory caused his heart to squeeze with pain. He shouldn’t have even asked her about Frank. He needed to do a better job at keeping interactions related only to the case.

  She opened her mouth as if to spill the beans but then clamped it shut and walked inside the lodge. “Nothing I can’t handle, thanks.” The front door of the employee lodge was not locked during the day, which was part of the reason Henry wanted to stay nearby.

  She unlocked the room across the hall from hers. The space wasn’t as nice as Nora’s apartment, but all the furniture and linens appeared to be clean. She disappeared across the hall and returned with two bandages. “Unicorns on rainbows? Or construction equipment?”

  “Rainbows,” he answered on instinct. The choices weren’t a surprise; everything about a rafting guide’s appearance had to be fun, even their bandages.

  He sat on the edge of the mattress. She sat in the chair opposite and leaned forward, intent on studying his cut knee. For a second, he was ready to let her tend his wounds—scratches, really—just to get closer. The realization disturbed him to his core. Would they have been able to get over their differences if he had handled that one night better?

  Bobby appeared over her shoulder. “I got an urgent text for cake?” He lifted a paper plate with the largest slice of pineapple upside-down cake Henry had ever seen.

  “I’m pretty sure the cake will help you more than these could.” Nora laughed, shoved the bandages at Henry, and made to leave the room, patting Bobby on the shoulder as she made her way past him.

  Bobby beamed. “I’m glad you recruited him. You two are great at teamwork. I wasn’t happy about you prepping the sites alone tomorrow.”

  Nora turned to Bobby, her face devoid of expression. “I didn’t recruit him.”

  Henry’s gut twisted. She had planned to get back on the river first thing in the morning without him and prep all the sites herself? He could see it as plain as day in her face.

  She whirled around as if ready to defend an argument he had yet to present. “Consider it as volunteering for river patrol—”

  He shot to his feet. “That’s an excuse if I ever heard one. You were going to go out alone? When there’s—”

  “Tell me this.” Her eyes flashed as she stepped closer to look him straight in the eyes. “Do you trust Perry?”

  “I think the more important question is do you trust me?” The muscles behind his shoulder blades tightened the more he thought about the insinuation. He didn’t need Nora to tell him how to do his job.

  “How can you trust someone who doesn’t trust you back?” She blinked rapidly. “Thank you for bringing the cake, Bobby.” Her voice warbled ever so slightly. “Good night.” She dashed across the hall, closing her door before Henry could formulate a response.

  Bobby’s jaw couldn’t have dropped any lower. He placed the plate on the dresser and stepped back, hands up, as if it, too, might become as explosive as Nora and Henry’s conversation. “I obviously made an assumption.” He shook his head. “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m the one who should apologize.”

  He nodded. “Yep. But not to me, and not about this.” Bobby sighed. “Look, man. It’s none of my business, but my nose is already stuck in far enough to know that you two are better together than apart.”

  You’re right. It’s none of your business. Henry scratched his head and fought to keep the thought from flying out of his mouth.

  Bobby stepped out of the room with a wave. “Good night, Henry.”

  Except it wouldn’t be a good night. Henry had no guarantees he could keep Nora safe if she wasn’t willing to share her thoughts and plans with him. Her lack of trust in him was like a sucker punch, taking his appetite away even when the tantalizing scent of pineapple filled the room. He closed the door partially, using the desk chair to prop it open a fraction to better keep an ear out.

  Actions brought results. So he would do whatever he needed to do to find the killer in record time, for both Tommy’s and Nora’s sake. He grabbed the piece of cake as if it were a slice of pizza and shoved a sizeable bite into his mouth even though at the moment his mouth refused to register any taste.

  If he didn’t succeed, he feared his own heart was in grave danger.

  SIX

  Nora peeked out of her room to make sure no one was in the hallway before she left the lodge.

  It was barely seven in the morning, and none of her employees stirred until sunrise, closer to eight at this time of year. She hitched the pack on her shoulder, still bristling over the exchange from the previous night, and made her way to the raft shed to grab her kayak.

  “That better be for two,” a male voice said. A shadow moved from the space between the lodge and the shed, and her breath hitched.

  She grabbed the pepper spray, hanging from a loop on her wrist, and flicked the lever to Armed. The shadow moved into the light, hands raised. Henry’s eyes flashed. “I’ve been trained to endure it but please don’t. It gives me a headache for, like, a week.”

  She exhaled and lowered her arm. “You scared me!”

  “That wasn’t my intention. I thought you would recognize my voice.”

  Her chest tightened at the gap between what they used to be and what they were now. “You don’t usually sound so—”

  “I haven’t had enough coffee. I really didn’t mean to scare you, but the point is I’m not letting you go on the river alone with a potential killer on the loose. Honestly, I don’t think you should be going out at all.”

  She turned back to the oars. “I don’t have a choice. This place feeds too many mouths. Aunt Linda is counting on me and...” She didn’t want to voice her last reason. If she didn’t keep the rafting company open, her sister wouldn’t have a home to come back to. If she ever did come ba
ck. Every once in a while, usually at this time of year, someone from town would make some comment about seeing her sister in the area. After two years of getting her hopes up, Nora no longer imagined Maya would show up at her door. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to move on, either.

  Henry tilted his head, studying her, but he seemed to realize she didn’t want to talk anymore. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  “You don’t have—”

  “Going with you will give me the chance to investigate more. Dexter would know all your normal stopping points, right? It’ll be due diligence.” He nodded at the pepper spray. “And while it’s still a mystery how the gunman used Dexter’s own gun on him, we can’t discount that the intruder had a gun. Spray is no match for bullets.” He patted his holster.

  A cold shiver ran down Nora’s spine. She had tried her best to forget the masked man as she’d tossed and turned all night. All her arguments seemed to dissipate, though it seemed cruel and unusual punishment to spend an entire day with a man she’d thought would become her family. Especially since she was so desperate for a comforting hug and remembered all too well how Henry’s strong arms used to warm her in an embrace.

  She grabbed the two-seater kayak. This way, she wouldn’t need to look into his face the entire time. She gestured for him to grab his own oar. Within ten minutes, they hit the water at a fast clip.

  “You’re not still planning on Sandy Cape for a stopping point, are you?” Henry asked. “Until it’s officially not a crime scene—”

  “No. I’ll have to see if we can ride the currents fast enough to choose a different lunching spot for our guests. If we skip all the leisurely floats and games until after lunch, I think we might be able to make it work.”

  “That’s a lot of whitewater before lunch.”

  She might’ve imagined it, but he sounded slightly concerned. “It’ll also mean extra training for my guides this weekend. I think I can manage most of the rapids without your help in the kayak.”

  “I remember enough. I’ll be fine, Nora.”

  The defensiveness in his voice triggered memories of too many arguments. For some reason Henry always assumed she was trying to control or critique him even if she was trying to be thoughtful. It was just enough to steel her resolve. No more lingering thoughts on his great hugs. Or his kisses. She’d never been so grateful to see the upcoming rapids so her rebellious mind would quiet down. “Right oar. Hard.”

  The water kicked up and they tipped precariously but didn’t flip as she deftly kept them from hitting the swirling hydraulic. Her honed instinct found the fastest routes and they made record time, past Sandy Cape, past the emergency take-out. They coasted as they entered the deep canyon. The high rock walls provided a peaceful tunnel of silence, with only the occasional slap of an oar against the water. An eagle soared above their heads.

  “You’re still excellent at this,” Henry said softly.

  She ignored the sudden warmth in her cheeks. “Is it easier to be in the water now?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. My leg has made some phantom pain complaints, but I’m doing all right. Don’t worry about me.”

  He might as well have told her not to go getting attached to him. “I wasn’t worried,” she said. “Just curious.” The wall to the left made a jagged stairlike descent into a hilly wooded area that used to be a stopping point.

  “Wow,” Henry said, blowing out a breath.

  A mudslide had brought down several boulders about nine years ago. The massive rocks had made the area closest to land a treacherous, swirling set of new rapids. Maybe mercifully, so the locals didn’t need to be reminded of tragedy. Because that spot had been where their mutual friend, Tommy Sorenson, had been murdered.

  “Left. Quick strokes,” she said. Like a roller coaster, they rose and fell with each wave, staying as far away from that portion of land as possible. And as fast as it began, the waters smoothed once more.

  “Do you...do you think there were any similarities between Tommy and Dexter?” Henry asked. “Did Dexter seem nervous the couple of days before?”

  “Besides them both being rafting guides? I don’t know. I haven’t wanted to give it much thought, if I’m being honest.” She knew Tommy had confided in Henry a few days before his death that he’d felt like he was being watched and asked Henry to have his back. Henry had thought he was being melodramatic but had agreed. And yet, somehow Tommy had ended up on the river alone and murdered. She knew the guilt Henry carried.

  “I don’t think anyone could’ve predicted this,” she said slowly, hoping he understood she meant both Dexter’s and Tommy’s murders. “Do you think we’re dealing with the same killer?”

  “Tommy’s was never staged as a suicide, so I don’t think so. We can’t dismiss the possibility, though. Would you mind if I interview your staff on an unofficial basis?”

  “If they agree, sure. Just please don’t give them any more reason to abandon ship and work for my uncle.”

  “Frank is trying to poach your guides?” The outrage in his voice was evident. “Totally unethical. Do you want me to talk—?”

  “No.” She cringed at her careless slip. When they started conversing without the same patterns of old fights, she opened up way too easily around him. They rowed in silence for a couple minutes.

  “You might’ve noticed it is driving me a bit nuts not to be lead on this case.”

  His vulnerability took her off guard. “I’m sure it’s hard.” She exhaled as the river entered a curving portion resembling snake wiggles. “Look. We’ve made great time. We can stop for lunch.”

  “Oh. I didn’t bring...”

  “Don’t worry. I have enough.” She glanced at the bag of supplies she’d stored securely in the spot near her feet. She always brought more than enough in early spring, as she never knew when the weather might turn and delay her return.

  They slid up onto the bank. The same slight erosion from the snowmelt had occurred here, but at first glance, it didn’t appear she’d have much work to do to make the site ready for visitors.

  Henry stepped out of the kayak and stretched. “I think I can help you tidy this place up in record time.” His eyes drifted to the bag she hiked up on her shoulder. “Need to earn my keep. What’s for lunch?”

  She heard the eagerness in his voice. He probably hadn’t so much as had breakfast. “Sandwiches. I’ll get the hand-washing station set up, then you can help me move the picnic benches back before we eat.” On the last river run of the season, they’d moved the tables onto higher ground before winter, partly because of erosion.

  Nora disappeared between two boulders and hiked to the hiding place where they stuffed empty buckets and containers between the rocks for protection during the winter. A red bag stuffed in a crevice caught her eye. The logo matched her own. Had a rafting guide left a pack here all winter? Somebody should’ve reported it missing. Leaving food, sunscreen or even wipes out on the riverside went against their land use permit with the forest service.

  “Everything okay?” Henry called. He appeared between the two boulders.

  She reached, on her tiptoes, to grab the bag. “I think one of my guides made an overwintering mistake.” Her foot began to slide on the loose rock.

  Henry rushed to her side. “Please, allow me.” He stretched his arm above her and tugged on the red fabric. The bag tumbled out of the crevice and fell to the ground between them. A small white cloud drifted in the air from the partially open zipper. “I don’t think that’s dust.”

  Their eyes met. Nora took a knee and examined the writing on the side of the bag closest to her. “This belonged to Dexter.”

  Henry grabbed a glove from a pouch on his holster belt and unzipped the red bag. Inside were several plastic packages, sealed with clear tape, of crystalline white powder. Henry leaned back and placed a hand on top of his rafting helmet.

  They�
�d argued once before over white powder, but this looked nothing like the burn cream powder Nora had found in her sister’s room all those years ago. “What do you think it is?” she finally asked.

  “Meth.” He blinked rapidly. “If I had to guess, we are looking at over four pounds of meth. Tens of thousands of dollars’ worth.” He zipped the bag up and looked over his shoulder. With one hand, he grabbed the handle of the bag, but she didn’t miss the way his other hand drifted to his gun. “We might be dealing with a mobile meth ring.”

  “Motive for murder?”

  He spun back to her, his eyes wide. “Stay close to me, Nora. I think you’re in greater danger than we thought.”

  * * *

  Henry rushed through the maze of boulders, conscious of Nora’s movements behind him. He had very little chance of getting a signal with high rock walls and towering trees in the middle of nowhere, even with satellite capabilities. He tensed even more when they stepped onto the sandy beach area, out in the open. They were vulnerable here. He grabbed his phone and Dispatch answered. “Get me a direct line to the sheriff.”

  While he wasn’t ready to admit to Nora that he had his reservations about Perry, the sheriff’s office needed to be in the loop first and foremost. Nora crossed her arms over her chest and stared into the trees and foliage. Henry took five strides toward the trees and angled himself in front of her. If there was a mobile meth ring hiding in there somewhere, Dexter’s murderer could be watching and waiting to take the only witness out.

  Zach answered the call. “What’s the situation?”

  “Found a gift-wrapped package. Ten-two hundred at—” Henry, using the police code in case there was someone in the trees listening, glanced at Nora.

  She frowned and looked down the river, understanding that he wanted a location to meet the deputies. “If we get back on the river, Sangster Creek will be the closest take-out point. On the Bureau of Land Management side.”

  “Sangster. My side. ASAP,” Henry repeated.