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Authors: R.J. McMillen

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BOOK: Black Tide Rising
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“So how the hell did he get here?” Dan asked. “And where did he go?”

Silence fell while the two men tried to come with up an answer.

—

“Bet they're on the trail.” It was Walker who spoke first.

“Trail?” asked Dan. “What trail are you talking about?”

“Sanford once told me he had a couple of people come off the trail just about starving to death. Didn't have any gear. Nothing. Said they ate all his food. Had to call the water taxi to come and get them.”

“Sounds like a pretty rough trail,” Dan said. “Don't think Margrethe would be the type to hike something like that.”

“Might not have had any choice,” Walker answered.

Dan looked at him. He could see him more clearly now. The long, slow, northern dawn was already chasing the night out of the sky.

“So tell me about this trail,” he said.

Walker shrugged. It seemed he knew nothing about it other than it existed. Dan stared at him for a minute, then went forward and switched on the computer. It came to life, the screen casting a pale glow over the wheelhouse as Dan ran a search for trails on Nootka Island. Within seconds, line after line of entries appeared. Dan picked the first one that looked promising. It called the trail “rugged,” said it stretched for twenty-two miles between some place called Louie Lagoon and Friendly Cove, and suggested it would take a minimum of five days to hike it from end to end. The next one said much the same but called for six days. It also said hikers would have to scale cliffs and would be miserably exposed, with rain and wind the norm and hypothermia a threat. A third entry said there were waterfalls and fast-running rivers to be waded, and warned that rogue waves and tides posed the greatest hazard. Not a place Margrethe would go by choice. Not a place he would go by choice either, thought Dan, although he had a sneaking suspicion that Walker might have a different view.

He switched the computer off and headed back to the salon. Walker was still sprawled on the settee, gazing out the window.

“You find anything?”

“Yep,” Dan answered. “There's a twenty-two-mile trail runs up the coast from here to some place called Louie Lagoon. It's wild, rough, and dangerous. Takes five or six days to hike it and you gotta climb cliffs, cross rivers, and dodge tides.”

“You get all that from a book or chart or something?” Walker asked.

“Nope. The computer.”

Walker looked at him for long moment.

“You got a computer out here in the middle of nowhere? Now how the hell does that work?”

Dan smiled. “The miracle of modern technology, my traditional friend. Got a satellite dish up on the mast.”

—

The two men sat quietly, each wrapped in his own thoughts, as the day swelled to life and lit the cabin with a soft golden light. Outside, a gull shrieked. Then another. There was the occasional slap of a fish jumping. The lazy drone of a bumblebee. The constant lapping of water against the hull.

“You figure Margrethe's still alive?” Dan's question broke their silence.

“Yeah. Yesterday anyway.”

“Jesus! You know those footprints could've been two guys.”

“Maybe. But the second set was real small,” Walker said. “And light. Didn't leave much of an imprint.”

“Shit. If you're right …”

“Yeah.”

The silence fell again. This time it was Walker who spoke first.

“Can you get the cops back?”

“Don't need to—and I couldn't anyway. They'll send more guys in. Probably a dog team. Maybe ask the coast guard if they can send out a boat to search the shoreline. Might even send out a helicopter. No way they'll listen to me. They don't take direction from the public, and they think I'm crazy anyway after I told them about the disappearing footprints. If I called them up and said I thought Margrethe had been dragged out on the trail by some guy, they'd think I'd really lost it. That's the kind of thing they have to figure out for themselves.”

“Yeah. So how about that guy you called last year?”

“Mike?”

“Yeah.”

“Mike can't help with this. He's got some pull with the Marine Division, but this isn't something they'd normally respond to—and we have nothing to give them. We don't even know for sure she's out there.”

“Gonna feel like shit if she is and she don't make it.”

“I feel like shit already, Walker. Her husband's up there at the lighthouse, going through the worst time of his life, and there's nothing I can do to help. Can't even ask him what she looks like because then he'd want to know why. Think we'd found her body or something.”

“Yeah,” said Walker as he turned to stare morosely out the window.

“Shit!” Dan broke the silence that had fallen. “There must be something we can do. We can't just leave her out there with some asshole.” He stood up and went to stand by the cabin door, staring out over the dawn-flecked water.

“True,” Walker said, watching him. “Could leave the asshole out there though. Be kinda good if he ran into trouble.” He pushed himself up off the settee.

“Where are you going?” Dan said as Walker struggled toward the aft deck. “You can't go out looking for her. And there's a weather system coming in from the north anyway.”

Walker reached the door and peered out. “Yep. Gonna be here soon, too.” He turned back and looked at Dan. “I'm going to go talk to Sanford. There's some people over near Esperanza who might know the trail. They know this whole area. Might be able to get them over there.”

Dan narrowed his eyes. “These like those kids you called in last year?” Walker had asked a group of Native youth, who were living in a remote camp run by a friend of his, to help him disable a boat whose crew had threatened Claire.

Walker grinned. “Did a good job, those kids. Percy was real proud of them.”

“Yeah, Walker. They did an incredible job. Hell, I'm proud of them too. But they didn't have to deal with anybody face-to-face. This guy could be armed. I don't want anyone to get hurt.”

“I'll let them know,” Walker said, the grin still on his face as he made his way out onto the deck. “They'll be happy to hear you're looking out for them.”

Dan shook his head. “Walker, you know what I'm saying—”

“Think you could make it up to Louie Lagoon if you go round the inside?” Walker asked, turning back to look at Dan as he cut him off in mid-sentence.

“What?” Dan wasn't sure he'd heard right. “Why the hell would I go to Louie Lagoon? I don't even know where it is!”

“It's the other end of the trail. Your fancy computer told you. Remember?”

“Dammit, Walker. Are you nuts?” Dan followed him outside and leaned over the stern, watching as Walker used his arms to lower himself to the swim grid and pull the canoe up. “You've got to stop this. Let the police handle it. You can't keep putting your friends at risk. This is not your problem.” Even as he was speaking, Dan was aware of the contradiction. Just seconds ago he had been saying they had to do something. Now he was telling Walker it was none of his business.

Walker slid his feet into the canoe, then twisted so his weight was braced on his arms as he lowered his body onto the seat.

“Worked pretty good last time,” he said as he untied the rope from the swim grid.

“Ah, hell!” Dan ran his hand through his hair as Walker lifted his paddle over the side. “Okay. Fine. I'll have a look at the charts, see if it's possible, but I'm damned if I know what good I can do even if I get there.”

“He's heading that way. It's probably the only place he can go. And we could pick up the Esperanza folks on the way. Save them a bunch of time.”

“You're serious, aren't you? You really figure these people can help?”

“You got a better idea? That trail sounds pretty lonely. She might not make it to the other end.”

Dan shook his head. He might as well give up now. Walker wasn't going to change his mind.

“Fine. How long do you think you'll be? I'm guessing you're planning on coming along for the ride? At least as far as Esperanza?”

That irritating grin flashed again. “Thought you'd never ask! Might take a bit of time to track the boys down. They tend to move about a bit, but it shouldn't be too long. I'll …”

They both turned as the sound of an engine swelled behind the point and another cabin cruiser, this one considerably older than Sanford's, nosed into the cove and made its way toward the float.

“Looks like he knows where he's going,” Dan said as they watched the boat slide up to the float. “Must be a local.”

Walker nodded. “Might be a friend of Sanford's parents. Looks like he's headed for the house.” He dug the paddle into the water and turned the canoe toward the shore. “I'll see what he wants. Sanford probably knows him.”

“I'll plot a course,” Dan said, his voice resigned. “Then I'd better go up to the light and let them know where I'm going. Don't want them to think I'm running out on them.”

“Tell 'em we'll call them from the lagoon. Might be good to have an extra pair of eyes at this end too. I'll meet you back here.”

“We?” asked Dan, but he was talking to himself. Walker was already away on the water.

• EIGHT •

The smell of bacon drifted from the open door of the lightkeeper's house, and Dan heard the clink of plates and cutlery as he approached on the walkway. He hadn't eaten breakfast—or dinner the night before, for that matter—and all of a sudden he was ravenous.

“Good morning,” he said as he stuck his head in the door. “Sure smells good in here.”

“Hey, Dan. Come on in.” Mary was busy at the stove, forking strips of crisp bacon onto a plate. “Would you like some breakfast? There's more than enough.”

“Wouldn't say no,” Dan answered. “But I'd hate to be the one responsible if you guys had to go back to eating Spam.”

Mary laughed. “Gene told you that story, did he? Wasn't the best time in our lives, but it all worked out in the end. We don't have to worry about supplies now. We can have them brought in on the
Uchuck
. She's the supply boat for all the folks around here.” She added eggs to the now empty frying pan. “Gene's gone down to get Jens. He wanted to spend the night down at his own place, but I don't think he got much sleep. The light was on all night and I saw him moving around a couple of times.”

Dan nodded. “Has to be tough. Any word from the cops?”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing.”

Dan hesitated for a few seconds. Should he tell her about the footprints? It would explain why he was leaving the cove when there was bad weather coming in, but it would raise hopes that maybe shouldn't be raised. Probably better to keep his mouth shut.

As Mary handed him a plate, they heard the sound of voices approaching the house. “Here. Might as well get started.”

—

“Going to be a pretty hard trip.” Gene nodded toward the barometer. “Doesn't look like it will blow too long, but it's already strong enough to slow you down. Sea's building too.”

Both men glanced out the window at the spray being hurled off the rocks below.

“Should be better on the inside,” Dan answered. “I'll head for Tahsis if it's rough, but I'd really like to get to Louie Bay. Make it an easy trip up to Kyuquot once it clears.” He had used his rendezvous with Claire as his excuse for leaving.

“Sounds like a special lady.” Gene smiled across the table at his wife. “You'll have to bring her down here. Like to meet her.”

“I'll do that,” Dan said as he stood up. “Thanks for breakfast, Mary. It was great.” He turned to go, then remembered Walker's parting words. “Ahh, you'll let me know if anything happens here?”

Mary glanced at Jens. He was sitting at the table, his food untouched in front of him. “Of course,” she said. “We're going to go back out and check the cove again as soon as we've eaten. Walk the beaches …”

There was a screech of wood as Jens shoved his chair back, and without saying a word, he stumbled past them and disappeared outside. Gene glanced helplessly at Mary and stood up to follow him, but she put a hand on his arm. “Let him go. I think he needs to be alone for a while. I'll go get him when we're done here.”

She looked back at Dan. “You take care. I'm sure you know what you're doing, but it's going to get nasty out there. You certain you have to go?”

He smiled, warmed by her concern. “Yeah. I think I do. But I'll be fine. Walker's coming along for the ride. Going to meet up with some of his friends in Esperanza.”

He turned to Gene and found the man looking at him oddly.

“Walker's going with you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dan answered. “That a problem?”

“No,” Gene answered. “No, it's not. Just seems an odd thing for him to do. He always comes and goes in his canoe. Won't even use the
Uchuck
, although they take canoes and kayaks all the time.” He shook his head and then asked, “I don't suppose this has anything to do with Margrethe, does it?”

Dan looked at him and sighed. He couldn't lie to these people. Margrethe was part of their community, almost family, and they deserved to know what was going on even if nothing came of it. Besides, Jens was no longer there to hear the story. He had gone back to his house.

“Maybe,” he answered. “Walker found some footprints. Two people. We figure they headed out on the trail.”

Mary turned to stare at him, the food forgotten. “My God! Do you think it was her? Margrethe?”

Dan shook his head. “I don't know. If Walker's right—and it's a big
if
—then I guess it could have been.”

“Did you tell the police? Did they check it out? I didn't see them—”

BOOK: Black Tide Rising
8.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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