CHAPTER TWO
Birdsong and the sigh of the breeze through the pines punctuated the silence as the group huddled around Frank, staring at the scribbled threat. Frank handed it back to Grant.
“Let the games begin,” he muttered.
Madison smiled. “I knew this was going to be fun.”
Grant partially tucked the note in his rear jeans pocket, then bent to grab the handle of one of Aubrey’s suitcases. When the note slipped out and drifted to the dirt walking path, Aubrey snatched it up.
“Isn’t anyone concerned?” she asked.
They turned to face her with blank expressions.
“Someone threatened your boss’s life.” She shook the note. “We should call the police.”
“I’m sure it’s just a joke,” Frank said.
He marched under the Survive or Die banner. Sotheara shrugged and followed. Grant toted his backpack on his shoulders and dragged one of Aubrey’s suitcases.
Madison leaned close to Aubrey and whispered, “Happens all the time.”
Aubrey tried to imagine working for a boss for whom death threats were the norm. She was suddenly grateful for her job as an admin for an upscale construction company, where foul language and raised voices were rare, and death threats nonexistent.
Her wheeled carry-on bag refused to roll on the dirt walkway. She grabbed the handle with both hands and hurried to catch up with Grant. As they neared camp, an ax chopping wood echoed through the forest. Aubrey heard laughter and a guitar.
“This is going to be so much fun.” Madison hurried through an opening in the split rail fence, then stopped. “OMG! I feel like I’ve been here before.”
“No kidding,” Grant said. “Just like on the TV program.”
Sotheara would text photos to Sage later, but Grant and Madison were right. Although shabbier than in its televised glory days, the camp felt eerily familiar.
Six log cabins circled a central fire pit like Conestoga wagons holding the surrounding wilderness at bay. Bender Clips employees huddled on log benches near the crackling campfire. Tweet, a young dude with ratty blond dreadlocks who worked on the factory floor, strummed an acoustic guitar while workers sang the Survive or Die theme song.
“This way, people.” Frank directed the new arrivals to a cabin. A hand-carved wooden plaque tacked beside the screen door announced they were entering Otter Creek. “Time for sight-seeing later.”
Madison crowded inside ahead of everyone, nearly stepping on Sotheara’s bare feet in the narrow doorway. Having been a pudgy teen, she was the last person to fat-shame, but she could imagine her Grams muttering krabei – water buffalo. As a third generation American, Sotheara was embarrassed by how little Khmer she knew, but she understood Grams’ choice insults.
“Not bad.” The krabei’s orange sun hat flapped as she nodded.
“Why do they call it Otter Creek?” Sotheara expected décor themed around otters. Perhaps a painting or knick-knacks featuring the playful animals.
“That would be my guess.” Madison pointed above the fireplace.
Aubrey shrieked. An otter perched on the mantle. A very dead otter. Immortalized through the art of taxidermy in the distant past, the dusty creature had shed generous patches of fur. The threatening grimace might have been more intimidating if not for several missing teeth.
“Aubrey’s a vegetarian,” Grant said, as if her revulsion needed an excuse.
The poor creature had been murdered and reduced to a mere tchotchke. Sotheara shook her head. The wanton destruction of life was tragic. She followed the group as Frank led them down a hallway lined with eight doors.
“This one’s yours,” Frank told Madison.
She wrestled her suitcase through the narrow doorway into a closet-sized room.
“Cozy,” Madison said. “If I get stuck in here, send someone with the Jaws of Life.”
“Edna and I are across the hall.” Frank waved a hand at a closed door. “The Missus is taking a nap, so you might want to keep the noise down.”
Then he should consider lowering his booming baritone a few dozen decibels, Sotheara thought.
“I saved this one for Grant and Aubrey.” Frank pushed open the door next to Madison’s.
“Where’s my room?” Sotheara asked.
Frank turned, a confused look on his craggy face. He’d probably forgotten Sotheara was with the group. She was accustomed to being overlooked. Frank recovered his composure.
“Here’s the last bedroom in the cabin.” He waved at door number eight. “It’s all yours.”
Sotheara stepped inside, noticing at once a severe deficiency. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“The head’s down the hall,” Frank said. “What happened to your shoes?”
“I don’t wear shoes,” Sotheara said. “We have to share a bathroom?”
“That’s the point of this camp,” Frank said. “Team building.”
Sotheara shuddered. She hoped building a team didn’t involve going to the toilet en masse.
Grant hefted luggage onto the double bed’s faded turquoise comforter.
“This isn’t so bad,” Madison said. “I mean, it beats sleeping in a tent, right?”
“I’m not sure I agree,” Aubrey said.
Madison was in her room, Aubrey and Grant in theirs, but the conversation did not require raised voices. If Grant’s deception had not already caused Aubrey to rethink her romantic plans, the thin walls cinched the deal. Grant pushed the door closed, which did little to increase Aubrey’s sense of privacy. She unzipped her suitcase.
“Alone at last,” she muttered.
Grant turned toward Aubrey. Like their two teen sons when they were caught doing something wrong, his eyes roved around the small room, never settling on her.
“If I had told you our vacation was a team-building exercise, would you have come?”
“I wasn’t given a choice. You tricked me.” Aubrey planted her hands firmly on her hips.
Grant finally seemed to notice her. “Is that a new blouse?”
“I bought it especially for our vacation. The vacation I thought we’d be spending alone. Just the two of us.” Aubrey paused her rant. If she hoped to resuscitate their marriage, yelling at her husband probably wasn’t the best tactic. It was rare to have Grant’s undivided attention. She twirled around, holding her arms out. “Do you like it?”
“You look great.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
Sotheara’s backpack sank deep into the soft twin bed mattress. She placed clothes in a dresser with squeaky drawers. No heels for the next week. Her feet were going to love camp. The corporate attire she wore at Bender Clips was all show. A kind of costume. Casual was definitely more her style.
While she unpacked, she heard Madison talking on her cell phone, Grant and his wife making noises she hoped didn’t escalate into something really disgusting, and either Mr. or Mrs. Hardy snoring like a hibernating bear. Privacy was going to be an issue.
Sotheara jammed a wooden chair under the doorknob. There was no lock. She unloaded Sage’s gear. Nitrile gloves would prevent Sotheara from contaminating samples. The telescoping rod, clamps, plastic bags of various sizes, one-use eyedroppers, dozens of empty capped vials, and other bits of laboratory gear lined up on the faded comforter like a kid’s chemistry set. She only needed supplies for an afternoon at the river. Sotheara re-packed, making the load more compact. The rest she placed in a dresser drawer, then covered everything with clothing. For added security, she tossed in a handful of tampons. No one would snoop now. No men, anyway.
She removed the chair from the door, scraping the feet across the scarred pine floor. The Survive or Die competition did not interest her, but she needed to play along. Sotheara opened the folder detailing the week’s events. There was nothing on the agenda until dinner. That s
eemed so unlike Jack Bender, who only permitted employees their breaks and lunchtime because it was the law.
When her phone pinged with an incoming text message, she jumped. Sotheara didn’t exactly have nerves of steel. Perhaps espionage wasn’t her forte.
Meeting at Brown Bear cabin asap.
That was the Jack Bender she knew. All work and no play. For his employees, anyway.
Aubrey and Grant were in the middle of a passionate kiss when his cell phone chirped. Grant detached himself from their embrace to study the screen.
“Text message. Mr. Bender’s having a meeting. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”
“A meeting?” Aubrey asked. “Are you kidding? We just got here.”
Grant shrugged. “Bender’s footing the bill for employees for the entire week. So there is some work involved.”
Now Aubrey knew how Grant had gotten their week-long vacation at a discount. His half had been paid by Jack Bender.
Aubrey shook her head. “So you’re on the clock. I get it.”
“Honey, I’m sorry but—”
“No. Don’t bother explaining. I’ll pretend I’m on a real vacation while you go stick your head up—”
Grant didn’t wait for her to finish. He murmured some vague promise about making it up to her before the week was over as he rushed out the door.
Grant’s “few minutes” stretched on. After Aubrey unpacked, she strolled into the cabin’s common area. The hideous otter glared from its perch on the stone fireplace. She scooted past it and onto the porch. Her peevish attitude defrosted in the warm July sunshine and fresh mountain air. She and Grant would iron things out. They had time, now that they were free from every day routine and riding herd on three unruly teens. Not just for a weekend. For an entire week.
Jeremiah Jones scanned the trees, noticing the abundance of squirrels. In his opinion, it wasn’t a real camping trip without nailing small game. Nothing tasted quite so good as fresh kill roasted over a campfire. If he could just shake Neamly, maybe he could slip back to his truck and grab his .22 Winchester.
Stewart Neamly wasn’t with the Bender Clips outfit. He was a tag-along spouse, husband of Nel, the crabby head of Human Resources. His paying gig was working for the department of motor vehicles, shooting the driver’s license photos everyone dreaded. Neamly had brought his work with him, snapping a photo with a digital camera, then aiming at the same chipmunk with a film camera.
“If I miss a shot with one,” he told Jeremiah, “I’ll have it on the other. Planned redundancy to avoid failure.”
He tuned out annoying blathering as Neamly launched into a tale about hiking to a remote region of the ranch that was probably a quarter mile away. Now Jeremiah knew how an animal felt when its leg was caught in the jaws of a trap.
A dolphin wearing a football helmet leapt across the back of Neamly’s turquoise jacket. The bag hanging from one narrow shoulder bore an Aspen Cameras logo with a shiny gold leaf. Both were as obvious as a hunter’s blaze orange. Good. Stewart would be easy to spot. Jeremiah figured he’d better not accidentally shoot any of his coworkers or their spouses during this shindig.
Because a few were such a waste of skin, he should be rewarded for taking them out.
CHAPTER THREE
A chipmunk posed on a fence post while Stewart Neamly snapped shots with first one camera, then another. Aubrey was surprised Stewart’s bright turquoise Miami Dolphins jersey didn’t frighten away the wildlife.
The big factory floor worker standing next to Stewart blended in with the rugged camp. Jeremiah Jones dressed like a frontier era cowboy, and he wore a mustache as impressive as Sam Elliott’s. He edged away as the photographer chattered about an epic hike across Survive or Die camp. Aubrey didn’t intend to be Stewart’s next victim, either of his camera or his interminable story. Sneaking past them, she caught up with Madison.
“Why aren’t you at Bender’s meeting?” Aubrey asked.
“There’s a meeting?” Madison fiddled with her smart phone, loading a photo of a cabin to her half dozen social media sites.
“That’s what Grant told me. But he lured me here under false pretenses.” Aubrey frowned. “There’s no telling what he’s up to.”
“I’m not invited to hang out with the bigwigs.” Mission accomplished, Madison slid her phone into a pocket of her khaki Capri slacks. “Unless they have some complaint about the computer network. There’s a lot of racket coming from Brown Bear cabin. I heard that’s the nicest one. Private bathrooms in every room, so naturally the boss man and his inner circle claimed it. Maybe they’re meeting in there. We could go see?”
Checking up on her husband in front of his coworkers. Aubrey hoped she wasn’t that insecure.
“No, I’m sure you’re right.”
Engineers lounged on Elk Meadow’s deck. Admins and buyers dug through an ice cooler of canned soft drinks. Factory floor workers tossed horseshoes near the central fire pit.
“Jack Bender’s paying for a week of camp for all these employees? The man who doesn’t believe in raises? There must be over fifty people here.” Aubrey scanned the groups of campers. “Hey, I don’t see Veronica.” She balled her hands into fists. “That minx has been trying to get her paws on Grant since she started working at Bender Clips.”
Aubrey didn’t really believe Grant would cheat on her. Did she? Her heart sank at the easy explanation for her husband’s sudden string of working late nights. And his waning interest in bedroom activities.
“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.” Madison patted Aubrey’s shoulder. “Grant is one of the good guys. He wouldn’t tangle with a man-killer like Veronica. Hey, there she is. See? You were worried for no reason.”
Veronica entered the circle of cabins, her perfect golden tan sheened with sweat. She pulled off a pink baseball cap and shook out masses of wavy auburn hair like a model in a shampoo commercial. Aubrey was ready to admit the absurdity of her suspicions, until Veronica shot her a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile, then disappeared between cabins.
Following Veronica reminded Aubrey of chasing after one of her mother’s many rescue cats. The lithe runner pranced just far enough ahead of Aubrey and Madison to encourage pursuit. Then she vanished. Aubrey peered up a trail leading into a deeply shadowed pine forest.
“By the bunkhouse,” Madison whispered. “Oh, don’t look.”
Madison pulled Aubrey behind a cluster of scrub oak. Of course Aubrey looked, and saw a man and a woman, their lips locked in a kiss.
Sotheara left Brown Bear cabin, annoyed that a meeting had interrupted her supposed vacation, and more importantly, her mission. Jack Bender had babbled on about nothing in particular, with the only point seeming to be exercising his power over his employees. She finally escaped, slipped inside Otter Creek cabin, and grabbed her backpack.
Sage had given her a topographical map marked with potential hotspots. Sotheara needed to collect baseline water samples at those points, to determine whether the river had been contaminated. Getting to the river without being seen was not going to be easy. The woods were crawling with coworkers.
Jeremiah Jones tread stealthily down a forest path toward the parking lot. The man was as large as a grizzly bear, and dressed like an old-timey cowboy. He paused. Sotheara ducked behind a pine tree. Jeremiah focused on a flowering bush peppered with small yellow blossoms. He crouched, then pounced. Sotheara feared he’d exit the bush with a bunny between his teeth, but instead he held a shoe. Odd.
Sotheara watched as he studied the shoe, looked around the forest, then tucked it in a fringed leather pouch hanging from his belt. Fascinating as his actions were, Sotheara couldn’t miss her opportunity to escape without being seen.
Following another trail, she spied a man in a turquoise Miami Dolphins jacket. It had to be Stewart Neamly, snapping more of the terrible photos that made him so popular. Not. Sothear
a snuck past him and hurried toward the roaring river. The path skirted the wrangler’s bunkhouse at the outer edge of camp. Between the trail and the building, Sotheara spotted a flash of pink and a patch of orange. Madison Wilhelm and Grant Sommers’s wife crouched behind scrub oak. Aubrey was one of those middleaged moms who could probably wear her teenage daughter’s clothes. Her choice today was not conducive to spying, the striped blouse obvious through the green leaves. Sotheara squinted in the same direction the two women were staring, and saw a couple making out.
“Gag,” Sotheara whispered to herself. “Get a room.”
No one was paying attention to her. She continued to the river.
For one horrible moment, Aubrey mistook the passionate couple for Veronica and Grant. Then she remembered that Grant didn’t own a purple pearl snap western shirt, and Veronica was not blond. Her homicidal thoughts faded to mere revulsion.
“Who’s the woman?” she whispered.
“I think it’s Candace, but that can’t be right. I thought she was Jack Bender’s main squeeze. Other than his wife, that is.”
The woman pulled back far enough that Aubrey could see her Barbie-doll face. If Barbie came in a cougar version.
“It is Candace,” Madison whispered.
“It’s really important for me to look good,” Candace said.
“You already look mighty fine,” the cowboy said.
“I’m not talking about my appearance,” she said. “I need to get high scores in the game.”
“You’re scoring high with me, darlin’.”
“That’s Rowdy Hunter,” Madison whispered. “The owner of Survive or Die camp. You remember him from the TV show? Candace is bribing him. That’s not fair.”
Only a woman with strength of character could be blessed with Candace’s particular assets and not use them to her advantage.
A camera shutter clicked. Candace detached from her cowboy and spun around, glaring at the scrub oak. Madison’s orange hat was bright as a second sun, while Aubrey’s red, pink, and white stripes would only serve as camouflage in a candy store.
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