Silent Hunter. Maggie K. BlackЧитать онлайн книгу.
Luke grinned. Tabitha was striking woman in her late fifties, with a mane of stylishly coifed red hair. She was with a curvy, much younger woman with the same flame red hair. The younger woman pulled two bags from their trunk. Tabitha’s teenaged daughter perhaps?
A large man with a huge white handlebar moustache stepped out of an old pickup with Lake Huron Sports on the side—owner Russ Tusk, probably. There was also a man with a battered fedora whose face he couldn’t see, and two young men with huge mops of brown curly hair—twins by the look of it. Then a large blue van with a grizzly bear on the side pulled in. “Big Bear Construction is here, too.”
Torchlight News had a pile of unproved allegations about Frances “Bear” Wane’s shady dealings and illegal shenanigans almost three inches thick. But with the exception of one dismissed lawsuit where he allegedly waved a handgun at his workers, Torchlight had never managed to dig up enough concrete proof to run the story.
“I’m guessing I’ve got about twenty minutes before I’ve got to get down there,” Luke added. “Last thing I want is Nicky thinking I’ve bailed on her again. Then I’ve got no internet or phone until Sunday. Can you do me a favor and get someone at Torchlight to text me any background I should know about Tabitha Grey, Russ Tusk of Lake Huron Sports and ‘Bear’ of Big Bear Construction?”
“I’m on it.”
A breeze rustled the trees behind him. A suspicion nagged at the back of his mind. “For that matter, Nicky obviously doesn’t like the owner of Ace Sports Resort, Neil Pryce, and the only other person I know was around the camp is George’s son, Trevor Dale.”
“Got it.” Keyboard keys clicked furiously. “So you’re still going on the camping trip?”
“I’m not even sure I have a choice.” Luke said. “George asked me to and somebody needs to have Nicky’s back.” Whether she likes it or not. “If it were up to me, they’d either cancel this trip or send along some kind of security or police. I don’t have your investigative skills. I’m just a sport’s reporter.” Not to mention a former runaway with a history of petty crime. Being back in the local police station last night had stirred up some uncomfortable memories.
Jack snorted. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. A sport’s guy who just happens to have razor-sharp reflexes. I keep telling you that you should volunteer to coach something at the community center—”
“And I keep telling you, I’m the last guy anyone’s going to want as a role model.”
“So you say,” Jack said. “Just give yourself some credit. Nicky could do worse than you coming along.”
People were leaving the parking lot and following Nicky and Trevor down the trail to the waterfront. The young curvy redhead was near the back of the pack. As Luke watched, one of the twins—black shirt, blue bandanna—ran past her and pressed something into her hand. She slid it into her bag without even looking at it. No one else had seemed to notice, but Luke had spent enough time on the streets to recognize a handoff when he saw one.
“Still there?” Jack’s voice crackled in his ear.
“Yeah. Sorry. Just thought I saw some kind of handoff between two of the young ones.”
“Drugs?”
He rolled his jaw. “Really hope not.”
“You want my advice?” Jack said. “Go camping, keep your eyes open and don’t stop praying. Trust that if God wants you to see something, or do something, you’ll know.”
Luke picked up his rucksack and prayed. Dear Lord, please may he be right.
* * *
The smell of the forest hung heavy in the air and mingled with the scent of ashes. The lodge’s hollowed-out shell stood like a shadow behind the beach. Nicky tucked a defiant wisp of brown hair back into her bun and jabbed it down hard with a bobby pin. Every one of the potential donors had arrived—except Luke. Well, if he didn’t show, that was on him. The last thing she was going to do was waste another moment of her life waiting around for him.
She watched as Trevor fitted the men and women with life jackets and then showed them how to find the right size paddle. Boney knees jutted out from under Trevor’s plaid shorts as if his joints were trying to escape through his skin, and there was too much gel in his white-blond hair. But his lanky stance and tone was so much like George’s it was uncanny. She’d never known the young man to be so thorough. Maybe his dad being in the hospital had kicked some sense into him. After all, he had come to rescue her last night.
A tall shadow fell over the path. A smile crossed her lips. She turned, expecting to see Luke. It was Neil. Ace Sport’s director sauntered down the beach in between Trevor and the potential sponsors, smiling and nodding at each one as he went. “Please don’t let me interrupt.”
Trevor hesitated then went back to talking about canoe safety. Neil sidled up behind her. His fingertips slid over the edge of her clipboards and down over the list of campers. He whistled softly. “Wow, that’s quite a turnout. Russ Tusk is one of our favorite gear suppliers. Bear Wanes is building a new gym for us this year. Even Tabitha Grey! You know she cut the ribbon at the opening of our new pool? I’m guessing the twins would be David and Aaron Elliot of Up Start? That’s a website that helps young people find volunteer and job opportunities, right?”
Nicky turned her clipboard over. “What do you want?”
One hand slid on her shoulder. He pulled her back a couple of steps away from the group. “Just here to see if you need anything, doll.”
She snorted and shrugged him off. Yeah, as if she was about to fall for his nonsense today.
The rival camp director raised both hands. “Hey, I just figured that with George in the hospital and your camp locked down, you might appreciate a spare pair of hands this weekend. I can be pretty handy, you know. Come on, we both know Trevor is an all right guy to have a good time with, but he’s hardly the kind of solid camp professional you need for a trip like this.”
Her back stiffened. True, Neil was hardly telling her something she hadn’t thought herself more times than she could count. But she’d take Trevor’s laziness and unreliability over Neil’s slimy attempts to weasel his way into this trip and steal their sponsors any day. “Spoken like a true ‘Acer.’ Either someone’s the best or they’re worthless.”
“Look, all joking and rivalry aside, you are a solid camp instructor, Nicky. With skills like yours...” Neil shook his head. “Off the record, you’re more than qualified to be a member of Ace Sports’ staff team. You know how rare that is for me to admit about anyone.”
Did he actually mean that as a compliment? Telling her she was good enough for his shiny, obnoxious camp? As if she’d ever doubted she was every bit the athlete as those sparkly, spandex-clad gym nuts that Ace filled its ranks with each summer.
“Our facilities rival any camp in the continent,” he went on. “And you know, when it comes to campers, we attract some of the best, most talented young people from across the country...”
She tossed her head. “Wow, you must be desperate to derail our sponsorship trip if you’re trying to tempt me to quit just as we’re about to set sail. But fortunately for all those campers who aren’t up to your stellar standards, not to mention not having Ace Sports’ kind of money, Camp Spirit has always been happy to take on people who still need a little work and don’t see their ability to toss a ball as something to laud over others.”
Neil stepped back. “Believe it or not, I’m actually trying to help you. I’m not going to apologize for being the only one in your life man enough to point out that you’re too good for a ragtag place like this.” His eyes narrowed. “I just hope that you’re smart enough to face the facts before an old man’s dying dream ends up dragging you down with it.”
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