Wilderness Pursuit

by Michelle Karl

  How did they end up in the same place at the same time again, anyway? He’d literally never expected to see her again, and thought he’d gotten over how much he’d missed her during those first few months—no, years—after she pushed him away. But having her here right in front of him...it was a reminder of their shared moments of laughter, of deep conversations, of stolen kisses as he’d walked her home after youth group on Wednesdays nights. He’d been a bit of an aimless teen, sure, and she’d had her life more or less planned out, but he’d believed they would make it work.

  And then she’d gone and stomped on his heart and ruined everything.

  “Coffee,” she groaned, pulling Sam back to reality. He might not be able to help his outward attraction to her, but it held no lasting meaning. She’d shown her true, inner self eighteen years ago.

  “Nope, sorry. Power’s still out.” Kara sighed as his phone buzzed. The middle Thrace brother, Leo, was calling. Sam headed toward the front door, gesturing at Kara to put on her shoes while he spoke to his brother. “What’s the situation, Leo? Anyone have power yet, or are we looking at multiple downed lines?”

  “Good morning to you, too,” Leo said, sounding remarkably alert for so early in the morning. “There’s a crew out now working on getting critical power restored, but another team is on the way from Fort St. Jacob to handle the residential grid. South of us didn’t get hit nearly as hard as we did, but it’s going to be tricky for them to get to us. It’s not pretty out there.”

  Sam’s hopes plummeted. “Besides the downed lines?”

  Leo sighed. “Trees, too, and large broken branches. The western road into town is covered with debris. The other guys have set up a roadblock until it gets cleared and the live power lines are raised again. Way too dangerous for folks to be driving around on it.”

  “Well, that’s inconvenient.” Sam rubbed his eyes and glanced at Kara, who regarded him with an unspoken question. “Did Aaron fill you in on the attack at the Number Six motel last night? I know it’s technically my morning off, but it sounds like you and the others will have your hands full with storm recovery. I wanted to head out to the Gaida Industries pipeline site in the forest where the attack happened yesterday, see if anything pops out at me. If the same people are responsible for multiple attacks on Ms. Park, then I want them found and brought to justice immediately. She’s in Fort Mason to do a specific, time-sensitive job, and she can’t do it while she’s a target.”

  “Ms. Park?” Hesitance crept into Leo’s voice. “That wouldn’t be the same Ms. Park who turned you into a blubbering mess when we were kids, would it? Please tell me it’s not. I know that’s a common Korean last name.”

  Sam’s stomach dropped at his brother’s guess. “It’s the same woman, yes. Kara Park is the lead archaeologist on the project.” His brother’s silence spoke volumes. Sam lowered his voice and turned around. Kara took the hint and stepped outside onto the front porch. “I know how to do my job, Leo. I can handle it, and besides, that was years ago. Almost two decades. I’m over it. Over her.”

  Leo sighed. Sam wanted to get angry, to tell his brother to mind his own business, but he knew Leo was only looking out for him—and he appreciated that, even if his brothers did tend to be a little overbearing at times. But wasn’t that what older brothers were for?

  “I’m going out to the site, Leo.”

  “That’s fine.” His brother’s tone shifted again, back to business. “And I’m on board with you working on your day off, but you can’t drive out there. There are literally live wires in the road. Aaron took his horse, Hera, through one of the back trails to set a roadblock at the other end about an hour ago, and apparently the trails aren’t bad. A little muddy and some minor debris, but at least there are no live wires. And the denseness of the forest means a trail is going to be easier going than the road in terms of debris size. Are you taking Kara with you? Is that wise?”

  Sam closed his eyes. “Yes, I think so, and yes. If she’s a target, she’s safest with a trained and armed RCMP officer by her side. I know those trails outside of town better than anyone, and for that matter, I highly doubt there’ll be other people around at six in the morning after a severe storm.”

  “Take Zephyr and Brenik,” Leo suggested. “They could use the exercise. Zephyr is looking a little pudgy around the middle these days.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Sam teased, then hung up and joined Kara on the porch. She blinked her teardrop eyes at him, waiting. “We’ll take the horses. I’m going to be fully geared up, but stay close. So far, the cowards who’ve bothered you have fled when I’ve come on-scene, so I’m not too worried. But a little extra planning and caution doesn’t hurt.”

  Her eyebrows raised, and she took a literal step back. “Extra planning? I guess a lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

  “Follow me,” he said, ignoring her dig at his past tendency to skate through life without a care, expecting the world to bend to him instead of considering his future. He led the way outside. The sky still held the yellowish tinge of a recently passed storm, and the roads were littered with broken branches, sopping-wet leaves and loose papers, and plastic patio furniture. Sam worried that he might open the station’s stable to find frightened, skittish horses, but he needn’t have been concerned. The three horses for their detachment munched calmly on their breakfast and greeted him with soft whinnies. He readied the two most experienced horses of the group, Brenik and Zephyr, and handed a set of reins to Kara. “You remember how to ride?”

  She leveled her gaze at him, then patted Zephyr on the snout. The creature’s eyes flicked nervously toward Sam, but she almost immediately succumbed to Kara’s curled fingers scratching behind her ears. “It’s been a while, but I think I can manage. These horses are massive. I’ve never seen horses this big before.”

  “Brenik is seventeen point three hands. Zephyr is sixteen hands, and Hera over there is sixteen and a half. RCMP horses used to be primarily Thoroughbred, but now have Hanoverian in the bloodline for temperament.”

  “Did you train these horses yourself?”

  He couldn’t help but smile at the wonder on her face. She looked as innocent as a child, staring at these massively powerful but gentle giants. “No, the farm is located in Pakenham, Ontario, in the Ottawa Valley. At three years old, they’re transferred to a training facility at Rockcliffe Park Equestrian Center in Ottawa. Their handlers are total pros and do a fantastic job. Most horses are raised for a career in the Musical Ride. It’s an incredible spectacle, if you ever get a chance to see it. Aaron participated for a few years before coming to Fort Mason.”

  “That’s the only time the RCMP wears those red uniforms anymore, eh?”

  “It’s iconic, but yes—the red is really only ceremonial these days.” He waited until she’d settled herself in the saddle before getting situated, then led the way out and onto the road. The town felt unnaturally still and quiet after the intensity of the night before, and he couldn’t help but keep a constant watch on their surroundings. While he felt mostly certain that Kara’s attacker wouldn’t dare try anything while she rode with him, letting his guard down would be a mistake.

  At the edge of town, Sam waved to his brother who sat in an RCMP patrol car, lights flashing. Bright orange pylons blocked the road, and one look down the main stretch out of Fort Mason showed exactly why. Leo hadn’t been exaggerating about the amount of debris on the road—Sam noted several fallen trees and multiple downed wires. Some of the power line posts leaned dangerously toward the road and would need to be righted before the route could be opened again. Anyone who needed to leave town would have to take the eastern road and add a solid forty-five minutes to their journey. That was both a benefit and a disadvantage of living in the mostly uninhabited wilds of northern British Columbia—it provided peaceful isolation from the frantic pace of urban life, but also meant an occasionally frustrating lack of accessibility to the rest of
the province.

  He steered Brenik toward a blue-and-white provincial parks sign that denoted the start of a maintained trail just outside town. “This should bring us fairly close to the dig site,” he said, looking back at Kara. “I assume you brought something to take photos with?”

  She nodded. “I used a portable battery to charge my phone at your parents’ place. The resolution of the images won’t be nearly as high as with my camera—my cell phone is a few generations old—but it should do as proof for Gaida Industries.”

  Sam’s shoulders tightened at the reminder of Ed Tigh’s attitude the day before. “Do you deal with a lot of pushback in your line of work? His hostility seemed uncalled for.”

  Kara’s nostrils flared as she drew Zephyr up alongside him. “I wish I could say it’s unusual, but it’s not. I’m a woman working on contracts with industries that are male-dominated. Like any line of work, I run into people who respect my expertise and those who resent it, though I suspect I might encounter more resentment because government-regulated survey work, by its very nature, causes delays for companies looking to conduct large-scale digging and building operations. They often see my purpose as a waste of time and money, regardless of the necessary historical value in local archaeology.”

  “So I shouldn’t be concerned about the way he spoke to you?”

  Kara stared straight ahead at the path. “I can fight my own battles when it comes to my job, Sam. I appreciate your intervention in the physical ones, but I’ve handled these types before. I’ll just get the photos I need as proof, and then he’ll have to back down and let me work. If the survey isn’t complete, the government can swoop in and shut Gaida Industries down, so regardless of whether he thinks I’m making it all up or not, he needs me here to do this work.”

  Sam ground his teeth, thinking about what her attacker had said last night at the motel. Gaida Industries might need the survey done, but someone didn’t want her here at all, and they’d gone out of their way to make sure she didn’t start digging. But if they successfully ran her out of town, wouldn’t another archaeologist just come along instead? Where was the sense in trying to scare her away?

  After another kilometer or so, he pulled them off the trail and into the forest. The ground was damp, but not nearly as wet as the exposed ground that hadn’t received the benefit of cover from trees overhead. Kara had remained silent, and he didn’t know what to say—how did he talk to her about anything other than work and the attacks without dredging up old hurts and angry emotions on both sides?

  Still, he didn’t mind the silence all that much. It gave him a chance to think over what had happened the day before. Even if Kara didn’t think anything of Ed Tigh’s hostility, something about the man’s attitude and the attacks didn’t sit right with Sam.

  “It’s right up here, I think,” he said as they broke through a dense line of trees. “You can see the forest starting to thin here. Must be why they chose this area. You’re going to have quite the stretch of earth to survey, aren’t you?”

  She nodded as the disturbed ground of the site came into view. “Yes, my team and I have several weeks of work at minimum, but the good news is that there are stretches along the proposed pipeline route that have already been surveyed over the years. The University of British Columbia runs northern field schools during the summer, which is to everyone’s advantage. It means less ground disturbance all around, if Gaida Industries can go ahead and lay the pipe through those areas.”

  Kara dismounted and pulled out her cell phone, then crouched at the edge of the site. Sam joined her, but kept watch as she snapped pictures of the ground. He couldn’t see anything of note—it just looked like a large patch of tossed soil to him—but the expressions that flitted across her face were fascinating. One moment her brows furrowed in concentration, and the next her lips parted in surprise. Then she’d purse her lips and stare at the earth, then sigh, then smirk. It was as if she was having a conversation with herself, and to his bewilderment, he felt a sudden tug in his gut.

  He wanted to be a part of that conversation. But no, that was ridiculous. She’s doing her job, the way I should be doing mine. Stop letting the past creep in and focus on the present.

  He wrenched his eyes away from her and began studying the ground at the edge of the clearing, searching for any remaining hints or clues left behind by the previous day’s attackers. A footprint, fibers from clothing, a piece of dropped paper...anything at all.

  He’d just finished a preliminary search of the perimeter when the horses began to shift their weight back and forth, shaking their heads. Brenik snorted and stamped his feet.

  “What’s up, buddy?” He took the reins and stroked the animal’s neck. “Hold tight, we’ll be done soon—”

  The crunch of movement across the forest floor froze Sam’s hand midstroke. Who else could possibly be out here? There were no cars allowed on the road, and he didn’t figure grizzlies would be awake and wandering around at this time of day—plus, it wasn’t as if he’d been quiet while trampling around the site and searching for clues.

  The crunching noise was joined by a low, rumbling hum that quickly grew louder. An engine? Was someone riding a dirt bike on the trails at seven in the morning? He glanced at Kara, who stood and looked at him, perplexed—and then as suddenly as the sound began it stopped. Sam touched the Taser on his belt, but his shoulders dropped with relief as a familiar face walked out of the trees’ shadow.

  “Foreman Helfer!” Kara’s jaw dropped. “You’re all right? What are you doing out here? I assumed you’d take a few days off to rest, at least.”

  The foreman smiled, and Sam’s stomach twisted. Something wasn’t right. “I’m perfectly fine, Ms. Park,” the man said. “Unlike you, despite my best efforts.”

  “Excuse me?” Kara tucked her phone into the back of her pants pocket. “Look, I’m glad you’re here. I went to speak with Ed Tigh yesterday, and he refused to believe that I saw bone in the disturbed earth—the phalange I pointed out to you. With my camera missing, I didn’t have proof to show him, but I think I’ve got enough in these new shots to convince him that this is definitely a First Nations burial site. I don’t know who disturbed it or doesn’t want me conducting the proper procedures for a find like this, but with these new photos and your personal testimony of what you saw—”

  The foreman sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. “I’m very sorry to hear that. I wish you’d have come next week as you were supposed to, instead of showing up early.”

  “What?” Kara narrowed her eyes at him and laughed. “No, I mean there really is something here. We should start the requisite procedures immediately. I can ask some of my team to come today instead of next Tuesday—”

  “That won’t be necessary, Ms. Park.” Sam saw the foreman’s hand creep to a bulge beneath his coat before Kara did. Sam grabbed for his Taser—only to feel the pressure of a barrel between his shoulder blades. He raised his hands and prepared to flip around to incapacitate the person behind him, but the foreman’s gaze suddenly snapped to the side, meeting Sam’s eyes.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Officer.” The foreman pulled the edge of his coat back to reveal the handgun shoved into his waistband. “There are more of us than there are of you.”

  Kara’s eyes widened and she swung her attention from the foreman to Sam and back again. “Wait, what? I don’t understand. What are you doing?”

  “What am I doing?” The foreman crossed his arms and sighed. “I’m doing my job, Ms. Park, which just so happens to be preventing you from doing yours.”

  “But your injuries—”

  “Weren’t as they appeared. Weapons on the ground, Officer. We didn’t count on your involvement, but now that you’re here, we’ll have to figure out what to do with the both of you.”

  “You’ve got to be joking,” Kara said. “You’re not serious. I’m here by government
mandate. You need this survey completed and submitted by a registered professional.”

  “And we will,” the foreman said, his voice growing hard. “It just won’t be you. If you’d arrived next week, you wouldn’t have found a thing and this would have been wrapped up within a few days, weeks at most. But now... I’m sorry, but Gaida Industries isn’t willing to sit around for years while the land is tied up in red tape. And we can’t have you running back to civilization and telling everyone about what you saw here. That goes for both of you.”

  Sam’s mind raced. How could they get out of this? From the corner of his eye, he spotted at least three additional men trying to blend into the brush around the site. Undoubtedly they, too, were armed. He mentally kicked himself for not investigating the engine sound the moment he’d heard it. They must have come in on dirt bikes or ATVs...why didn’t I think of that?

  “You don’t need to do this,” Sam said, hoping to buy time. Whatever the foreman had planned, it wasn’t going to turn out well for Gaida Industries. “A government contractor and an RCMP officer go missing, and more than a few people are bound to notice.”

  The foreman turned to him with a smile, and Sam’s stomach sank at the confidence he saw reflected there. “Of course they are...but we’re out in the wilderness, Officer Thrace. And people go missing all the time for a variety of reasons. Thanks to Ms. Park’s insistence on invading our company’s space before we’d prepared for her arrival, you’ll both be joining those ranks.” This time, the foreman drew his weapon from his belt and leveled it at Kara. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled back the safety. “Permanently.”

  FOUR

  Kara’s heart hammered in her chest. He was going to kill them over a burial site? Over a delayed project? Ed Tigh hadn’t been overplaying his anger at her, after all. Unless the foreman was acting alone, but she highly doubted that after Tigh’s outburst the day before.