Finally, it was over. They weren’t in last place. That honor would go to the Belle Starrs. But for sure they wouldn’t be getting any treasure chest keys this go round.
A low rumble of thunder sounded from the mountains on the far side of the lake. If Jeremiah had been in charge, he’d call off the game. Lightning and lakes were a bad combination. Then again, the last team was Bender’s Defenders. Maybe things would finally get interesting.
Aubrey zipped her windbreaker to her chin. Her sneakers were wet, and a chilly breeze had kicked up. Clouds bunched over Turquoise Lake, looking like sheets piled up on laundry day. Only one more team, and they could return to camp. Aubrey shivered as she remembered her haven from a storm was a leaky, musty tent.
The Bender’s Defenders purple-shirted team commandeered three canoes. Doug helped his father and Candace climb in, handing them both paddles. Their canoe darted away from the shore, following two more that had already entered the course.
Jack Bender flailed with his paddle, knocking over a pole. Aubrey could see Doug Bender’s mouth moving, but couldn’t hear what he said over the thunder. Turquoise Lake went from crystal clear to dull gray as clouds obscured the sun. Frothy white wavelets formed on the choppy water. Droplets pelted Aubrey’s windbreaker.
“They need to get off the water.” Berdie tugged the hood of her camo jacket over her white hair. “This is turning into a full-blown storm.”
Rowdy Hunter blew a whistle, but no one in Jack Bender’s bobbing canoe seemed to hear. They were attempting to complete the course, one laborious gate at a time.
Grant appeared with an umbrella. There were times Aubrey truly appreciated his compulsion to be prepared for any contingency. The wind tore at the umbrella as Grant opened it, threatening to turn it inside out. Aubrey and Madison huddled under the shelter with Grant. Just in time. The clouds opened up. Aubrey couldn’t distinguish where the rain ended and the lake began. A peel of thunder exploded, and lightning lit up the scene for an instant. Aubrey wasn’t the only person to shriek.
“We need to leave!” Grant yelled.
“What about Jack, Candace and Doug?” Aubrey yelled.
“There’s nothing we can do for them.”
Most of the campers had already fled, shuttled back to camp on a bus.
“Ironic,” Madison yelled. “Looks like God is gonna get Jack Bender before the person who wrote the death threat.”
The scene was almost Biblical, the deluge making Jeremiah think of Noah’s Ark as his teammates abandoned the lake, trotting to the bus in pairs. Two by two. When would he find his soul mate? Camp had been discouraging so far, as he learned that prospective mates were already spoken for, inadequate for his needs, or spectacularly uninterested.
For the most part, his coworkers didn’t stray far from the image they presented at work. Candace in her skanky low-cut blouses, the admins and buyers in color-coordinated outfits from the mall, the engineers in jeans and polo shirts.
Jack Bender’s costume was a new one. Khaki shorts and a button down khaki shirt. The dude had probably been on an African safari. He’d be the kind to shoot one of everything, just for bragging rights. Or better yet, let his guide kill the animal, then take Jack’s photo with the hapless beast like he’d done the deed. Yeah, he was the cheating kind. Cheating at hunting, cheating on his wife with Candace, cheating his employees out of a real vacation with his stupid game. Toying with peoples’ lives with his threat to fire the loser.
Jack Bender deserved to die.
The sudden summer storm tossed the boss’s canoe, the only point of reference dividing lake from sky. Lightning flashed in jagged spears. Rowdy blew his whistle. Wranglers trotted back and forth on the pebbly beach. Jeremiah hung around, not because he thought he could help, but precisely because there wasn’t a thing anyone could do.
Jack Bender was in the grip of the forces of nature. Utterly helpless. The way most of his employees felt under his capricious rule of the factory. Jeremiah wouldn’t miss the satisfaction of seeing Bender struck down.
As quickly as it began, the rage left the storm, settling into a gentle summer rain. Bender’s canoe drifted to shore. The three occupants were soaked through and bedraggled, but still in the land of the living. Once he realized he was safe, Bender began ranting to Rowdy. Their camp host reminded Bender he’d signed a waiver, like everyone else.
The fun was over. Just one more disappointment in a long string that added up to business as usual for Jeremiah Jones.
Back at the campfire circle, the misty rain dampened lunch. It might be July, but in the mountains, precipitation brought the temperature down fast. Jeremiah’s teammates cowered on the log bench as they ate soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Once everyone had been fed, Rowdy rang the triangle.
“I know you cowpokes will be disappointed, but this weather’s making it so I’ll have to postpone the fourth challenge. Guess y’all get a free afternoon.”
The Wild Cats complained, ready to continue the game. Then the Belle Starrs and Gold Strike jumped in, supporting Rowdy’s decision. It figured.
Comfort over adventure. Campers ran for cabins. Jeremiah remained by the sodden campfire ring, the flames gone and the glowing coals sizzling as raindrops hit them. He watched. Who went where. Who went with whom.
Only one camper seemed to notice him. Berdie Placer. She wore a heavy vinyl slicker. Her wrinkled face peeked out from the hood, a quizzical look in her eyes. Jeremiah dipped his hat in a salute. Rain poured off his Stetson’s brim and splatted on his cowboy boots.
Berdie lifted her chin in her own mute recognition of a kindred soul.
Inside the tent wasn’t much better than outdoors. Stockton’s Revenge pulled their cots into a crazy arrangement to avoid the drips from the leaky roof, and huddled under layers of clothes, trying to nap. Aubrey could hear Rankin snoring on his cot behind the wool blanket room divider, until his cell phone buzzed.
“Okay boss. Be right there.”
After Rankin left, Madison sat up.
“I can’t sleep. I’m freezing.”
“It’s going to be a long, boring afternoon,” Sotheara said.
“Quit whining,” Berdie said. “Any day above ground is a good day.”
That silenced everyone for a few minutes. Rain pattered on the canvas roof, then plopped though a dozen holes in a steady rhythm.
“You never know,” Aubrey said, seized with a sudden melancholy.
“Know what?” Madison asked.
“How much time you have.” Her heart filled with a wrenching homesickness. She wanted to be with Grant. Wanted to see her kids. Wanted to hug them all and tell them how much she loved them. Aubrey wiped a hand across her eyes.
“We believe we have some control over our own mortality,” Sotheara said. “We take vitamins. Exercise. Think positive thoughts.”
“Carry an epinephrine injector,” Berdie said.
“Except what happened to the injector?” Madison asked.
“And the bag,” Aubrey said. “But was it gone before Stewart was stung, or after?” She sat up on one elbow and looked at Sotheara. “You said the bees here aren’t aggressive.”
“Just the one flying around your sweet roll this morning. There might be other kinds.”
“I don’t think bees mingle,” Berdie said. “They’re territorial.”
“We could sit here talking,” Madison said, “or we could do something.”
“Like what?” Sotheara asked. “It’s still raining.”
“We could go find Stewart’s camera bag.”
ROWDY HUNTER’S
SURVIVAL TIPS
Don’t believe what you see in the movies. Animals aren’t all that smart. The higher they get on the food chain, the more brains they have. That’s why bears and mountain lions are dangerous. They can think. You ever cut open the skull of a bird, squirrel
, or deer? That tiny space is mostly devoted to instinct. There’s not much room left for thinking. About all you got to do to score one for dinner is stay out of sight. They see you, and they run. So work on your stalking skills, use the right camo, and your survival disaster might end in a first rate meal.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jeremiah lowered his .22, glad he hadn’t taken a shot at the squirrel chattering from a lodgepole pine. Stockton’s Revenge was on the move, instead of hunkered down in their tent. Madison, Berdie and Sotheara climbed the porch steps to Brown Bear cabin and rapped on the door. When Rankin yanked it open, Madison cringed.
“Our tent leaks,” Berdie told Rankin. “But you already knew that. I see you took refuge here.” She waved a hand at the cabin. “How about you let an old lady in out of the rain?”
Madison flashed a deck of cards. “Can I interest you in a game of Hearts?”
Rankin grunted and moved to the side. The three ladies scooted past the hulking redhead. Sotheara paused, looked in Jeremiah’s direction, and gave a thumbs up sign.
Had she seen Jeremiah? No. He glimpsed Aubrey Sommers, Grant’s wife, hugging the far side of a pine tree, dressed in a dark green hoodie and blue jeans. She gave a little wave back, and Sotheara entered the cabin.
Jeremiah watched Aubrey trot across the patch of mowed lawn between the woods and the back of the cabin. He tugged up the collar of his rain slicker and leaned against a thick aspen, settling in to watch the show.
The Brown Bear common area where her teammates planned to play cards occupied the front half of the cabin. The back half had eight windows, presumably to eight rooms divided by a narrow hallway, like Otter Creak cabin. One of them was Stewart and Nel’s room.
The plan was for Aubrey to climb through the window into the Neamly’s room to look for the lost camera bag and injector. Maybe Stewart had misplaced it, and their fears of foul play were groundless.
Aubrey crept close to the side of the cabin, cruising just under the windows and peeking in quickly. Closed blinds blocked the view through the rear-most window, and she heard loud snoring. She peeked through the rain-spattered window into the next room. Clothing hung over the back of a chair, and more was slung across the unmade bed. She might have thought it was Stewart and Nel’s room, except the woman’s clothing was plus-size, and the man’s diminutive. Had to be Nigel and Irena. The next room was so tidy, there were no personal items left out to distinguish the occupant. The blinds in the last window were drawn closed. Aubrey pushed up on the window, but it wouldn’t budge.
Her cell phone pinged. Aubrey paused to read Madison’s lengthy text. She and Berdie were playing cards with Rankin, Doug, and Roberto. Nigel and his wife Irena were watching a movie with Sotheara, and everyone was enjoying snacks and beverages from the fully stocked kitchen. Bender was napping, as was Candace, in their separate rooms.
Aubrey pocketed her phone and dashed across the windowless back end of the cabin. She peeked around the side. A bare leg poked out an open window.
Sotheara had made more friends in three days at camp than she had in four years of high school. When Irena invited Sotheara to watch a movie, she gratefully accepted. The Canadian couple had been friendly at the campfire circle last night. As a warm feeling threatened to fill her heart, she harshly reminded herself that she wasn’t here for camaraderie. Her teammates might be searching for clues to Stewart Neamly’s death, but Sotheara had her own agenda.
Her status as a movie-watcher allowed her the freedom to wander around the cabin’s common area. Sotheara didn’t expect to find incriminating paperwork and maps spread out on a coffee table. Jack Bender wasn’t that stupid, but he was arrogant, a trait that often led people to reveal more than they intended.
One man dead. Another threatened. Berdie had snatched the death threat note away from Sotheara. If the receptionist was the author, was she planning to murder Bender? Maybe that’s why she agreed to invade Brown Bear cabin. She was planning to carry out a fatal attack on Jack.
Not a choice Sotheara would make. Too many witnesses. Sotheara closed her eyes briefly, trying to redirect her energy to the real task.
This isn’t about people. I’m here to save the environment.
Aubrey hid behind a cinquefoil bush dotted with hundreds of tiny yellow flowers. Candace straddled the windowsill, glancing left, then right. She hopped out, landing on the wet ground in a crouch, rainwater splashing under her sandals. Her skimpy shorts and tight tank top looked cold. Maybe she wasn’t planning on being outdoors long.
When Aubrey’s cell phone pinged with another text message, Candace’s eyes raked across her hiding place. The green hoodie must have helped her blend in with the olive green leaves of the bush. Or maybe Candace was too busy eluding detection herself to notice other lurkers.
She trotted across the wet grass to Rowdy’s two-story cabin. Millie, the chuck wagon cook, peered out a downstairs window. As she watched Candace, her lips twisted in a grimace of disgust. Aubrey wondered why she was in Rowdy’s cabin. The wranglers stayed in the bunkhouse. Maybe she was cooking Rowdy a late lunch. Something more tasty than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on mushy white bread. The curtain jerked closed.
The cabin’s back door gapped open. Out stepped Rowdy. He and Candace loped toward the parking lot. A moment later, the cook stomped out the front door, pulling on a yellow rain slicker over jeans and flannel shirt. She headed for the bunkhouse.
After that disturbing flurry of activity, Aubrey read Madison’s text message.
Are you inside?
Not yet. Aubrey tapped a text message that Candace had run off to parts unknown with Rowdy. Madison texted back “eww.”
When Candace and Rowdy were out of sight, Aubrey resumed her mission. She rose to peek in the first window. A brown bomber jacket hung on the back of a wooden chair in front of a desk. Body-builder magazines fanned across the bed. Aubrey’s breath steamed up the window as she pressed her face to the glass. She pushed up on the window, but it was latched.
The next room looked like a tornado had rolled through, with a chair tipped on its side, and the bedding torn half off the mattress. The turquoise Miami Dolphins jacket was easy to spot. Aubrey pushed up on the window, but this one was latched, too.
What was with people? Did they expect burglars out in the middle of nowhere?
She started to climb in the next window, conveniently gapped open a couple inches, when the door rattled at the same time that her cell phone pinged. Aubrey dropped to the ground.
roberto went to rm to get jckt look out
Aubrey huddled in the bushes, waiting for Roberto to leave. He did. After slamming the window closed and latching it shut.
Candace’s window had to be open. Aubrey leaned over rain-soaked bushes to peek inside. Her room was unoccupied, and the door to the hallway was closed. Of course. She had snuck out.
Aubrey clambered over the windowsill and landed on Candace’s bed. She waited, holding her breath. Movie soundtrack music boomed down the hallway. Maybe no one heard her bumbling entry over the racket of explosions and squealing tires. In a pause in the action, cards shuffled, ice clinked in glasses, and she heard snoring. The movie volume rose again.
Aubrey rolled off the bed. Like the room she had shared briefly with Grant, the door had no lock. There was no telling how long Candace would be gone.
One of Stewart’s last acts in life was to shoot compromising photos of Candace. Stewart, or someone wearing his jacket. If she stole Stewart’s camera bag to get the photos of her tryst with Rowdy, Candace had unwittingly killed him.
Aubrey looked under the twin bed, lifting the Western print dust ruffle, finding nothing but a pinecone. The dresser drawers creaked as Aubrey pulled them open. There wasn’t much to Candace’s undergarments. Mostly lace, underwire, and ribbons. One red and black number looked like it should be accessorized with a whip. The closet contained
feminine apparel neatly arranged on hangers. Candace’s backpack rested in a corner behind a dozen pairs of hiking boots, heels, flats, sandals, and sneakers, but there was no epinephrine injector inside the pack, or hidden among the shoes.
Every room in Brown Bear cabin had private bathrooms. In her medicine cabinet, Candace had enough creams, makeup, and hair care products to stock a beauty supply store. Aubrey pawed through the trash can. A few price tags from new garments, a shopping bag from the Glenn Honey Farm outside Lodgepole, and a spent tube of mascara. No injector.
On the closet shelf, a stack of plaid wool blankets beckoned. Aubrey thought of shivering on her cot. Tonight would be even worse, with rain leaking through the holey canvas roof. Aubrey grabbed three blankets. If she made it out of the cabin without being caught, the blankets were going with her.
She pressed her ear to the door, then opened it a crack. Aubrey had an unobstructed view of the common area. Doug, Rankin, and Roberto had their backs to her. Across a coffee table, Madison and Berdie faced her.
“We’re out of lime juice,” Nigel said. “No more daquiris.”
A disappointed chorus of “aww” greeted his announcement.
Brown Bear cabin was having a full-blown party, and Aubrey’s teammates were in the thick of it. She heard popcorn popping, and inhaled the buttery aroma. Her stomach growled. She hoped her Buckaroo Crew appreciated her sacrifice. Berdie glanced up, her eyes growing wide as Aubrey pushed the door open.
Sotheara cradled a warm bowl of popcorn with one arm, and carried the last pitcher of daiquiri with her free hand. Brown Bear cabin was well stocked with the kinds of goodies that made a rainy day in the woods enjoyable.
She stepped out of the kitchenette and caught a glimpse of a door opening in the hallway. She hoped Bender hadn’t awakened. The party would end for sure. Nothing like your cranky boss to put a damper on the festivities.
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