by Dana Mentink
Her shoulders dropped. “You need to call Perry.”
“I’ll admit I’m on my guard.” He hoped she saw his admission as an olive branch, a trust-building step.
“I get it. Perry’s in charge of the case and you have to play it safe.” Her voice was slightly monotone, as if disappointed but accepting. “Thank you for keeping me in the loop. Can I hold that bag for you? I’d feel better if you had both hands free.” Her eyes flicked to his holstered gun.
Her calm demeanor took him off guard. “Thanks.” He handed her the bag and paced the shoreline while relaying his findings to Perry. “Can you reach this location by ATV?”
“No. That’s impossible given the canyon walls before and after. I could get there by horse or on foot,” Perry said, “but the space between the rocks and the trees wouldn’t fit an ATV. Makes it a great hiding place when you think about it. Best way there is by boat.”
“We’re about to leave to head for Sangster Creek. Deputy Zach O’Brien will meet us there.”
“I’m not too far away, but I don’t know about meeting on Bureau land.” His typical dry humor shone through. While the forest service and land management had a well-known rivalry, Perry and Henry couldn’t afford to take it seriously, mostly because they’d started as friends. He wondered, though, if Perry could ever see him as an equal. They had a fifteen-year age difference and Perry still remembered Henry as a punk wannabe lawyer when they’d first met. “I can meet you at the sheriff’s office.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Henry ended the call. There were a fair amount of wide, unmarked trails that law enforcement could use to get to the river fairly fast. It was no wonder their vehicles needed to be replaced every few years. “We better get going. Zach will be ready to pick us up soon if he takes all the dirt roads. How long to get to Sangster Creek from here?”
“Thirty minutes. Maybe longer.” She held up one hand in a shrug. “I haven’t been that far down the river yet with the high snowmelt.” She grunted. “My scouting trip keeps getting cut short. It should be a very calm spot, but remember how easily new rapids form this time of year.”
The river had also changed right before the ride that had shattered his leg. The boulder responsible for the surgery and subsequent months in a cast had created a set of new rapids. Each year, that particular set of rapids had grown, and was now so difficult and long that Garnet Rapids was currently off-limits. Rafters pulled out beforehand. If they wanted to continue on the Sauvage, they had to walk the mile around the rapids to get back on the river that would eventually meet up with the Salmon River and the infamous Snake River.
She hitched the red bag over one shoulder, and Henry realized her own guide bag matched the one filled with drugs. “Don’t get those confused now.”
He meant his words to be teasing, but she shot him a look. She opened her bag and handed him a protein bar. “Not ready for jokes yet.”
His stomach growled at the offering, but his tongue wasn’t exactly eager for the sawdust taste of the generic brand. She grinned at his expression. “Well, I have sandwiches, too, but I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for a picnic anymore.”
“Hey, I wasn’t complaining.” He angled his position and gestured for her to mimic him, so their backs were against the rocks as he practically inhaled the bar. He paused for a second. “Sandwiches plural? You knew I would come today?”
Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe I just wanted two sandwiches. You know how hungry I get when rafting. Besides, Bobby made them.”
“The famous backpacker hoagie?” Henry eyed the bag eagerly, daring not to hope. Bobby only made those hoagies once a year as the ingredients didn’t come cheap. Layer upon layer of meats, cheeses, tomatoes and expertly portioned condiments inches deep within a toasted bun. He wrapped it so tightly in clear wrap, it compressed until you were ready to unwrap and enjoy. “There is no way you could eat two of those.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you like to think.” She pursed her lips. “After last night, I thought you might try to stop me at the dock. I like to be prepared for all possibilities. I just didn’t think you’d be waiting at the shed.”
He feigned shock. “You were going to try to bribe an officer of the law.”
Her lips twitched as if fighting a laugh. “Bribe isn’t the word I would use.”
With regret, he shoved the protein bar wrapper in his pocket. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we can afford to take the time to eat those right now.”
She tugged the opposing drawstrings and cinched her bag closed. While he kept an eye out, she secured both her bag and the matching bag of drugs inside the tandem kayak. Most of the kayaks the guides used had been fitted with a special, albeit small, storage section underneath the top of the hull. “Okay. Ready.”
He lowered himself into the back seat, bracing as Garnet Rapids came to mind again. The phantom pain in his leg wasn’t as bad as the real pain, he reminded himself. Besides, they would be off the river way before Garnet Rapids.
Nora moved to step into her own seat when she stopped, studying him. “How are you really, McKnight?”
Nora only used his last name when she switched into Concerned Teacher Mode, as he liked to call it. At one point, her dream had been to teach during the school year and ride the river during the breaks and summers. At least, that had been the plan when they’d first become engaged, but as far as he knew, she spent all year working for her aunt instead. He wondered why she wasn’t using her degree, but now wasn’t the time to ask. “Fine, Radley.” He parroted back with her last name. “Ready for the Savage.”
She grinned in response at his use of the river nickname. “It’ll be a calm ride. You can let me do all the paddling.”
“Not necessary.”
“That way you can keep an eye out.”
That actually wasn’t a bad idea. She slipped into the seat, seamlessly grabbed her paddle, and shoved off hard enough to slide through the sand and into the water. He checked the straps of his paddle stash to make sure the oar was secure against the side of the boat. “Or I could eat a backpacker.”
Her laughter bubbled up as she threw her head back, her thick braid slapping the plastic between their two seats. He couldn’t help but grin at the first genuine laugh he’d heard from her in years. His heart sped up, reminding him of what was at stake. His eyes shifted to the trees around them. The echo of her laugh hovered in the air as they entered another canyon section. The slap of water against the rocks drowned it out. The waters raced faster in the narrow channel. Nora’s shoulders rolled in rhythm as her paddle worked to keep them in the middle. Henry remembered the dangers of getting too close to the walls where the current could pull a rafter down underneath the water.
To the left, on forest land, the canyon wall disappeared again. She rounded a bend. At the next bank, a fisherman decked out in an oversize hat, still a good hundred feet away, held a pole. Henry frowned. “I didn’t think there were roads on the USFS side to there.”
“There’s not, but maybe they live on the ranch nearby. We’re close to the Sangster Creek pullout on the right.”
His eyes narrowed at the fisherman. “This isn’t prime fishing time. Salmon aren’t here yet, and he’s not an angler.”
“Steelhead, maybe? Want me to ask him about his fishing license?”
His gut twisted—maybe paranoia from traveling with evidence. But something didn’t sit right. “No, I don’t—”
The fisherman dropped his pole and turned, pulling a rifle from his side. “Nora, get down!” The bullets hit the water mere feet from the bow of the kayak. Nowhere to hide. They were on the river without any cover, too easy a target. He struggled to duck and pull his weapon while sitting at an awkward angle in the cramped seat. A bullet hit the bow. Too close.
Henry succeeded at releasing his gun and lifted his arm to take aim. Nora twisted, taking her paddle with her. Sh
e placed her paddle to the right side of the boat as the gunman fired again, this time grazing the bow. “Tandem roll,” she yelled as she sucked in a breath and drove her head and body toward the water.
The side of his face hit the water and he dragged in a sharp breath a heartbeat before her momentum pulled him underneath the frigid surface. A tandem roll usually required both people to maneuver their paddles with enough force to flip back upright, but his paddle was still secured to the side of the boat. He clamped his mouth shut as the kayak floated upside down with no indication he’d get another breath any time soon.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nora felt the rush of the current hard against her face but forced her eyes open. She could see maybe a few feet ahead, but that was all. The outside of her legs braced against the hull, and she fought the instinct to flip back up. The only way to hide from the gunman was to stay under water, but she didn’t know how fast the current was moving them, and she probably couldn’t hold her breath for much longer. Hopefully, it was true that men had ten percent more lung volume. She scanned their surroundings as best as possible, searching, hunting for boulders to avoid.
A dark shape at two o’clock. Long, thin… A tree branch underwater! She closed her eyes so her mind wouldn’t play games and confuse her sense of direction. She rotated her paddle instinctively to twist in that direction. Her lungs burned. If she didn’t flip them now, it would be too late. She turned her head and utilized the downward pressure with the front blade. Her knee pressed against the boat, and she snapped her hips in the same direction. The boat responded, rolling, but not with the speed she normally had with a single kayak. They weren’t going to make it to the surface.
She snapped her hips again and rotated the blade for extra momentum. Her face broke the water and she inhaled greedily.
Henry gasped behind her. Nora twisted the paddle and maneuvered the kayak farther around the branch. Water rushed over top of the bow, but the log held them upright, the other branches providing only a measly bit of protection. A bullet pierced the air and Nora hunched over, bracing, until she realized the bullet had come from Henry’s gun. She twisted to see they had passed the fisherman. The man was running away from the bank, likely taking cover from Henry’s shot.
“Can you get us off this bundle of branches?” Henry asked, panting.
“Yes.” She focused on the work of twisting and grabbing the next current that shoved them up and over the log. She ramped onto a thin bank. There was a portion of wooded area in front of the northern canyon wall. The spot had barely any room to stand unencumbered, certainly not big enough for a group of rafters, which is why it could never be a take-out spot for the company. But it would work for one boat in need of an emergency stop.
The next couple of minutes, her entire body shivered and shook, not from the cold but the adrenaline. She knew Henry was keeping an eye out for danger, yet she couldn’t stop looking to either side of the river, too. He shivered alongside her, especially since he wasn’t wearing a wet suit like she was. He kept his eyes on their surroundings even while he addressed her. “I think he’s gone. Are you okay?”
“All things considered, yes. You?”
“That tandem roll…”
“You told me to duck. That was the only way I could think of to take cover.” Her insides vibrated with more intensity as she reflected on all the many things that could’ve gone wrong. But at least they hadn’t been shot and they hadn’t drowned. “Did you see him? The gunman?”
Henry paled. “When we flipped back up, I got a closer look. He had on a camouflage face m—”
“It’s him, then, isn’t it? That’s the same thing the murderer wore.”
“I remember you said that.”
She clenched her jaw in response to his nonchalance. Why couldn’t he just admit that the gunman had to be Dexter’s murderer? “What if he also killed Tommy?” She turned and pulled out the two red guide bags from the secured portion of the hull. They dripped with water. She opened both to check the contents. One of the drug packages seemed to have allowed a little water to leak inside but the others were sealed tight enough that they were untouched. “Did Tommy ever hint at doing drugs or selling drugs?”
Henry’s frown deepened. “I…I don’t—” He pulled in a breath and took out his satellite radio. “I’m going to call Zach and let him know we got held up.” He turned around in a circle. “There’s no way he could pick us up from here that I know of. Is there?”
“No. But we’re not too far from Sangster Creek now. If you think it’s safe to get back on the river…”
He continued his slow spin, scanning the trees and canyon walls, until his eyes finally met hers. “Nora, I want you to take cover while I make some calls. I need people out searching the opposite side of the bank for the gunman. If we’re dealing with a mobile meth ring, there might be more gunmen out there. Once I know it’s safe, we’ll get back on the river.” He held up the satellite phone. “Can you find a place to hide?”
“Yes.” She hiked the bags over her shoulder. It felt a little childish finding a place to hide, but she recognized the wisdom in the event the gunman returned. She stepped into the foliage, careful to watch for the various plants in the region that could cause rashes and itching. Normally, they had permits that allowed rafting guides to weed those types of plants at their stopping points, but this place was designated to remain wild.
She walked right up to the canyon wall and turned around so she could keep an eye on all her surroundings. There was maybe a hundred feet of land, jam-packed with foliage and trees of all sorts, before a dead end at the rock wall. Henry’s voice carried through the wind, but the filtering effects of the leaves kept her from hearing everything. He was likely talking to Zach or Perry. Her shoulders tensed.
Wasn’t the gunman’s rifle the same type of rifle that Perry secured to his ATV? And Zach had been adamant about insisting Dexter’s death was a suicide instead of a murder. How could Henry trust either of them?
She pulled the guide bags off her shoulder. Dexter’s name, written in black marker, demanded her attention. Henry had wanted her to hide because he was worried about more drug runners out there. If they caught her and Henry, the gunmen would have no reason to keep them alive…unless she told them she knew where the drugs were. Hiding the drugs hadn’t worked for Dexter, but he had been demanding more money.
Nora searched the area. A few boulders the size of garden sheds and evergreen trees that reached past the cliff side begged to be considered, but one of the dead logs caught her eye. To the right was a six-foot-tall shrub, a manzanita, if she wasn’t mistaken, its pink buds hanging down in the same manner as the bleeding heart flowers. The shrub would make a perfect memory marker to help her find the log again if she needed to. The other end of the log was lodged between two boulders.
She looked in all directions, careful to make sure that no one could see her actions as she stepped between the boulders and the rock wall. She bent and stuffed Dexter’s bag inside the end of the log. A rock the size of a football worked perfectly to block the opening. Too bad her phone didn’t have a signal so she could properly mark the GPS location, almost like a cache to find later.
Shuffling leaves caught her ear. She popped upright and slid out from behind the rock, with only one guide bag on her shoulder now.
“Nora?” Henry called. His eyes landed on her. “Oh, good. Perry was nearby. He’s on the opposite side of the river and, at least for the next mile, thinks we’re safe to get to Sangster Creek. He’s got someone watching from the bank as we move on.”
Or, she wondered, was it a trick to make sure they came out into the open so he could shoot them?
“I think we can trust him,” Henry said softly, as if he understood her facial expression. He patted his holster. “I’m still on guard. And I have good news.” He grinned. “The gunman left so quickly, he left behind casings. They would’ve li
kely been washed away if Perry hadn’t gotten there so quickly. He’s rushing them to the lab.”
Nora exhaled. Maybe Perry really wasn’t a bad guy, after all. Her eyes drifted back to the boulders, the log and the manzanita shrub. Deputy Zach O’Brien would still be waiting for them at the take-out point, though. For now, she’d leave the drugs hidden. Just in case.
“Ready?” Henry held out his hand.
Without thinking, she accepted his hand to step over the rocks. Their eyes met and her mouth went dry. “It’s been a long day.”
He didn’t let go, but only stared into her eyes, and she faltered. Maybe she should tell him that she’d hid the drugs, that she thought it would be a good test to see Zach’s reaction and to keep the evidence safe for now.
“Let’s get you home.” He released her hand almost as if in slow motion, and Nora couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d held her hand and let go like that. It had been the night they’d said goodbye to each other after breaking off the engagement. Her heart squeezed with fresh sorrow all over again.
She pressed her lips together and strode past him. “Yes. Home.” Though she’d never felt so lost in her life.
* * *
Something had changed. Perhaps Nora was more frightened than she let on, but Henry had the same uncomfortable sensation he’d had in the days leading up to their breakup. She was keeping something from him. Again.
He stared after her as she strode ahead and prepped the kayak. Nora always had to take care of others, make everyone happy, as if it were her sole responsibility. Admittedly, when they were first dating, he’d loved that about her, but it had taken a whole lot of time to really get to know her and what she wanted. The same walls that he’d torn down seemed higher and thicker than ever, and yet something was off. He felt certain.