by RJ Corgan
“Fair enough.” Bonnie strode back to her tent. “Will try to keep the screams from getting too loud!”
Kea shook her head, uncertain which was more confusing, Bruce’s death or a shark-obsessed cougar. She heard a roar of male laughter as Bonnie entered her tent.
Kea slipped into her own tent and crawled into the warmth of her sleeping bag as the sounds of the movie began. It was beginning to look like sleep wasn’t going to be an option tonight. Thoughts of Bruce filled her head:
Ruined projects.
Ruined marriage.
Angry co-workers.
Missing co-worker.
Motives, she thought. There are a lot. Opportunity, there certainly was.
Means… It’s not like I’m looking for a revolver in a study, she considered, the whole place could be a death trap.
She thought back to the missing vest. My only clue is missing and considering the vastness of the glacier, it’s one I might never find.
Propped up on her pillow, the friendly face of the stuffed little platypus grinned at her. She held it above her head.
“Tell me Pus, what was Bruce thinking? Was he really depressed, or was he killed?” The toy said nothing. “And why did he bring you? Was he really just too shy to give you to me, or are you a clue?” She tugged at its neck, digging her fingers into the stuffing, slowly at first, then tearing faster and faster, until there was nothing left but white fluff covering her face and pillow and inside-
Inside there was nothing. No message, no memory stick, no microdot, nothing.
“Sorry Bruce,” she muttered sadly to the disemboweled platypus. “I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Chapter 11
Day Six
After A rushed breakfast, the team descended on the last stretch of the exposure. The weather remained uncooperative, however, and rain fell every half hour like clockwork, puddling water around their feet and leaching away any remaining morale onto the sandur.
Kea made a point of moving between the different groups, trying to lighten the mood, and assisted with sampling wherever she could. The team was self-sustaining at this point, so it was just a numbers game until they finished. ‘Never’, each volunteer said, ‘had two kilometers seemed like such a vast distance.’
Around mid-morning, she encountered Tiko on a boulder, busily sketching. The young woman smiled quickly in acknowledgment, but kept her gaze firmly focused on the cliff face.
Kea listened to the sound of the pencil as Tiko scratched it against the rough, water-resistant paper of the field journal, letting the silence linger while she tried to decide what to say. She had been up all night trying to work out different theories, different scenarios – even one where Bruce and Bonnie had a torrid affair. However, wherever her mind went, her thoughts always returned to the same question. “Tiko, what exactly did you see that day?”
A hush fell as Tiko paused. Kea could hear the ticker-tap of grit blowing against the cliff. Behind them, the river gurgled and chuckled as the wind rucked its surface up into lapping waves.
“I’ve been trying different view shed models, using three-dimensional line of sight software to recreate the locations of the teams and what they could see,” Kea continued. “Looking at the model, it is possible that you saw something, but the distance... is puzzling.” Plucking a couple of peanut butter cups out of her pocket, she slowly unwrapped one. “I’m not saying it’s impossible, mind, but I really just wanted to ask, what was it you think you saw? If anything at all?” She popped a candy into her mouth and watched Tiko closely for any reaction.
After a moment, Tiko continued sketching, as if by ignoring Kea, she could pretend that the conversation never took place.
“It occurred to me,” Kea continued softly, “that it’s also possible that someone made you say you saw something that day. That someone is threatening you somehow.”
Tiko stopped sketching and turned to stare back at her, an unreadable emotion trapped within her soft brown eyes. If pressed, Kea would have to describe it as pleading.
“I’m not going to say anything,” Kea said calmly, aware that Tiko’s eyes now darted up and down the river as if searching to see if anyone could overhear their conversation. Sensing that Tiko was still unwilling to speak, Kea tried one more time. “Tiko, he was my friend. I just want to understand what happened.”
Imperceptibly, Tiko shook her head, her loose curls trembling ever so slightly.
Fear, Kea thought. She’s terrified. She placed a peanut butter cup carefully on Tiko’s pad. “Well, sometimes a picture can say more than any words.” She stood up slowly. “And yours are always lovely.”
Kea left Tiko staring quietly at the dark cliff face as the rain spattered around them. Glancing back, she noticed that Tiko had turned her notebook to a fresh page and started to sketch again.
***
Max was sitting on his pack as if it were a throne.
Kea noted that his notebook lay in a plastic bag at his side, while the rest of the bags remained pristine and sample-free. “How goes the stratigraphy?”
“I never thought I’d miss running proposal teams,” Max replied, a sandwich clutched in his hands. “But it’s a much drier job.”
Although the leads had noticed a decline in the quality of the sketches and documentation among the volunteers as the weather had deteriorated over time, Max had never appeared to put too much effort into any of the tasks in the first place. It wasn’t that he was phoning it in exactly, but his demeanor seemed to simply suggest that he had people to do this sort of thing. It was as if he was waiting for his staff to show up and take over so he could get on to something more meaningful, like presiding over a board meeting or cutting a ribbon for a new supermarket.
“The weather should be clearing soon, if only for a little bit,” Kea said, recalling the morning’s weather forecast. Despite that, looking at the dark clouds overhead, she wasn’t certain they had nailed it this time. She pulled out her own notebook and began a quick sketch of the section. “Did you request this trip?”
“Nah,” Max shrugged. “But felt I should lead by example, especially for a non-profit like you guys, so I came when asked.”
“Aren’t you in charge?” Kea asked, her attention distracted by the contents of Max’s section. Despite his questionable company, it contained several interesting conduits where the floodwaters had forced material up through the overlying strata. She pulled out a bag and started taking samples.
“COO,” Max said proudly, pulling out another sandwich. “Chief of Operations.”
“Very swank.” Kea pretended to sound impressed, or at least interested.
“Twenty-five years’ experience,” Max yawned. “I know how to get things done, whatever it takes.”
“That sounds a bit gangster.” Kea leaned the measuring pole against the cliff for scale and took some photographs to examine later. She noted the locations of the samples in her notebook. “So why Iceland?”
“Movies,” Max replied firmly.
“Not the first time I’ve heard that...” Digging out a permanent marker, she labeled the sample with the date and location number. “Most people want to drive a car across the ice lagoon after that Bond movie, but we mostly get fantasy buffs these days.”
“Not my thing,” Max shrugged. “Not sure who selected this expedition for the company.”
“Mmmmm....” Kea said around the marker. Science aside, she realized that she wasn’t getting anywhere with this line of questioning. As she tucked away her notebook in her pocket, it suddenly occurred to her to check to see if Jason had dug up anything on Max or his company. “I think it’s time to break for lunch, if you have anything left to eat...”
Using her radio, she called for the others to break for lunch. While they all sat down to eat their damp lunches at their sections, Kea trotted back across the plank board bridge Marcus had built. She moved along the cliff to a point where she could climb up a small rise and get cell rec
eption. Only half a bar, she noted, but it the signal was strong enough to download an email from Jason:
‘Haven’t heard back from my friend yet on T3. Did some digging; looks like they’re a front company for a small development firm based out of Seattle, founded by Alex Huxem, although he passed away a few years ago. T3 is mostly contracted out by the big tech corps for special projects. Not much else out there on the web, not publicly traded, no press. Hope it helps, careful out there. –J
P.S. There is an Andrea Lane listed as a former board member, although she had filed articles of incorporation for a new company about two months back. Looks like she was going to try her hand at a startup, some tech firm called based out of Europe, QuantSol Inc, but can’t find anything on it…’
Kea put away her phone. Huxem, eh? Maybe Max wasn’t really in charge. She looked back down into the valley. She knew a Huxem. Two, in fact.
***
“Hello, boys,” Kea called as she rounded the river bend.
“Doc,” Erik and Jon returned Kea’s greeting in unison. The cousins were sitting on a couple of rocks at the base of the cliff, the river not a meter from their feet. Just to get near them meant she had to do a bit of boulder hopping along the river’s edge. When she reached their site, the ledge was so narrow that she found herself almost pressed against them, suddenly reminded of just how big these two men really were.
“How goes the dig?” She sat down on a small boulder in what she hoped was a disarming pose. After a moment of unsuccessfully trying to shift into a comfortable position, she opted for her normal, if somewhat, slouched posture. She put down her clipboard to prop her bag up between her feet and rummaged for her camera.
“Not bad,” Erik said, trying to shelter his food from the sporadic raindrops. “Not awesome, but not bad.”
“The weather here is variable, I’ll admit,” Kea smiled. “Least so far. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Pacific Northwest, and it’s like this all the time there.” Kea handed Jon a ruler and snapped a few pictures of the section with the guys in the shot for scale. “Where are you guys from?”
Jon looked at her oddly.
Kea realized then that while she had been lecturing at them for days, she rarely made any attempt to be social with them in the field. Well, Erik at least.
“We’re both out of Denver,” Erik admitted, “but the company’s HQ is in Seattle. Been there a couple of times, but it’s not much like this place.”
“How long have you lived in Denver?” Kea asked, doing her best to ignore Jon’s lingering stare.
“About ten years.” Erik squatted down by his bag and pulled out a length of jerky.
“How long have you been with the company?” Kea stowed her camera to protect it from the rain.
“T3?” Erik considered. “Just the last few years.”
Rain continued to pepper the sand and cobbles around them. Intent on their food, the men didn’t seem eager to expound.
Kea found it difficult to think of any questions other than the one she really wanted to ask, ‘By any chance, did you have any reason to try to kill Bruce and make it look like a suicide while you were on holiday?’ There didn’t seem to be a subtle way to work it into the conversation. Besides, it wasn’t as if Erik had an opportunity that day, so it couldn’t have been him. Please don’t let it be Jon…
Almost afraid of the answer, she asked, “Why did you guys pick Iceland anyway?”
The two men exchanged glances before staring at her, their mouths frozen in mid-chew.
“I mean,” Kea said quickly, tripping over her words, “we almost had to cancel this field team, then about three or four weeks ago, you guys pop up unexpectedly and save the day.”
Erik smirked. “We don’t choose these things. The company made the call. Granddad used to insist that we do something for charity every year. I think Max just wanted us to keep up the tradition in honor of Grandad, but it’s probably….”
“Tax write-off,” Jon finished.
“Usually we do something more like helping out at a charity event. I didn’t know EO existed.” Erik glanced up at the gloomy sky again. “Mind you, I’d rather have done the dolphin monitoring project in Florida.”
But Max had just said he didn’t choose this expedition. Unless he was lying, of course. “Who picked this trip? I assumed that you…” Kea found herself backtracking in case she was too direct, “like you said, you could have picked a project that had much better weather.”
Jon and Erik both shrugged.
“Dunno,” Erik said. “Have to ask Bonnie that.”
“She might have arranged it, but I don’t think she chose Iceland,” Jon corrected him.
It was the most she had heard him speak in days. Since the pub, or at least since she started actively avoiding him at any rate. She had been meaning to take Jon aside and explain her hands-off rule for volunteers on expeditions, but instead she kept delaying the awkward conversation.
“Yeah, that’d have to come from much higher up,” Erik agreed.
“Higher up?” Kea asked, confused. She had assumed these two might have owned a portion of the company based on what Jason had said, or maybe their parents. Still, maybe they answered to someone else.
“Maybe Bruce?” Erik offered. “Would make sense, if he wanted to off himself here.”
Kea ignored the last remark. “Bruce was higher up than you guys?”
“On the last project.” Erik added, “Although Max took over, near the end.”
Back to Max again. She wanted to ask about Andrea but didn’t want to play her hand, so she offered a hunch instead. “Did Bruce ever mention to either of you two about starting his own company?”
“No,” Erik said defensively. Shifting his weight, he flexed in a way that she found intimidating. “Why are you asking?”
“We just like to learn more about how to appeal to other companies,” Kea fumbled. “To help us figure out how to recruit more teams next year...” She hadn’t thought this through. She’d never needed an exit strategy before. She tried one more time, more tactfully. “Again, I just wanted to say how sorry I am. We just… we never… these teams are intended for the opposite of... what Bruce used it for.”
“We get it,” Erik said. “Nothing to do with you guys. What he was stupid. And selfish.”
“Any idea why he did it?” Kea asked.
Erik shook his head. “He was an odd one, never understood what he was up to half the time.”
“Did he say anything before it happened?” Kea asked Jon. “I mean, you were there.”
He shook his head slowly again and folded his thick arms across his chest. The flirtatious man she had shared a drink with at the bar had vanished. “Nothing.”
The spatter-pat-patter of rain slapped against the surface of the river, the only sound in the thick silence that followed. It was obvious that the conversation was at an end.
“Right.” Kea levered herself off the rock. “Well, I better keep checking everyone’s work.”
“Don’t you want to see ours?” Jon held up his field notebook.
“Yes,” Kea said quickly. “Yes, of course.” She flipped through the little book and made a cursory examination of his sketch. She handed it back with a forced smile. “Well done, you. See you on the way back.”
She picked her way along the river’s edge until she joined Julie, who was having a snack at the base of the cliff. It was only as Kea put down her pack that she felt the adrenaline drain out of her, shaking her limbs and lifting her stomach into her mouth.
“You okay?” Julie asked, her mouth full of granola. “You look all pink and balloon-y.”
“Yeah,” Kea said. “Learning to sleuth is harder than it looks.” She brushed Julie’s questioning look aside. “Never mind.” She shook her head and squatted beside her. “I better keep my day job,” she sighed. “Any chance you have an extra candy bar?”
Julie tossed her a miniature bar of chocolate. “You’re up to something.”
&nb
sp; “I’d like to be,” Kea said as she struggled with the wrapper. She tugged on it with her teeth. “I don’t really know what questions to ask. Tiko’s upset about something, but in fairness, she always seems to be. It crossed my mind that someone like Max might have forced her to make up a story about seeing Bruce fall, just to keep the company out of the papers. Aside from that… Yes!” She gave a little cheer as she managed to rip open the wrapper. “As far as I can tell, they all worked with Bruce, but none of them seemed to like him. In fact, anyone on Marcus’ team that day could have knocked him off. My bet is on Jon though, as he’s probably the only one strong enough to knock over poor Bruce.”
Julie, Kea noticed, was looking at her with wide eyes, her mouth frozen in mid-chew.
With a sense of dread, Kea turned around to see Jon standing behind her. He held out her clipboard silently. His expression was cold, his eyes unblinking.
Not knowing what else to do, Kea took the clipboard out of his hand. She heard her voice thanking him politely as if someone else was using her vocal cords. Then she turned and sat down, closing her eyes as she listened to him walk away.
“That,” Julie ventured, “was only slightly awkward.”
“Well done me...” Kea choked down the last glob of chocolate and chased it with a drink of water. “Ya know, I think he really must have fancied me after all,” she considered. “I really only screw up big time when people actually give a damn. Glad to know I haven’t lost my touch.”
“You really think he might have killed him?” Julie asked.
“I don’t know.” Kea took another long drink. “I lack both motive and method. As well as zero evidence. And you know what that means.”
“Someone’s getting away with murder?” Julie sounded almost hopeful.
Kea shook her head. “It means Bruce really did kill himself.”
Chapter 12
later, Sitting at the edge of the river, Kea watched the last group of volunteers scramble for the shelter of an outcrop. She remained in the open, listening to the rain pepper her hood. She felt hollow inside. If anything suspicious had happened to Bruce that day, she hadn’t discovered what it was. Propping her chin on her knee, she wondered what she was doing.