EDGE (20 page)

“Okay, enough with the questions,” Linnet said. “Let me finish getting him cleaned up and see if he needs to be flown to Homer.” Linnet waved off the group.

Mel motioned for Sergei to follow her outside. Cache stood from the table and tagged along.

Mel walked a few feet from the door so as not to be overheard and asked Sergei, “Where did you find him?”

“Behind Nicole’s cabin.”

“What was he doing up there?” Cache asked.

Mel had a feeling Emily knew.

She left Sergei and Cache and headed up the hill, determined to get to the bottom of what was going on between her niece and Tom. She’d found Emily alone, grounded. Apparently Nicole had taken a walk so as not to kill her only daughter. Quentin escaped as soon as she entered with such a look of relief it had been hard for Mel not to laugh.

She wasn’t laughing now.

“I have no idea why he was there,” Emily said, pouting on the couch.

“You’re lying.”

“Whatever.”

Hell’s bells, this kid was a pain in the ass
.

Her admiration for Nicole shot up a notch that she hadn’t lost her sanity dealing with Emily. “Are you hanging out with Tom?”

“Right,” Emily scoffed. “Like the guy is
old
. What would I want with him?”

“Well, I’m thinking he’d be great revenge material against your mother. I hope you’re smarter than that.”

“What do you know about it?”

More than she wanted to reveal. “Just be careful, Emily. You’ll end up hurting yourself more in the long run.”

Cache helped Tom up to his room once Linnet had cleared him. He was to stay at the lodge today where she could keep an eye on him, but she didn’t think he had more than a slight concussion.

“I hate this place,” Tom said. He swiveled to look at Cache. “Can we get what we came for and get the hell out of here?”

“You’ll feel better after you’ve rested.”

“I won’t feel better until I’m back in New York. Why would
anyone
live here?”

Cache didn’t bother to answer. Tom would never understand.

“Tom, what did you think you saw?”

“Hmm?” They entered his room and Tom sighed with relief as he sunk onto his bed.

“You said you saw something. Seemed pretty upset about whatever it was.”

“Sorry. Don’t remember.”

Handy response. A lot of people who were hit on the head didn’t remember the incident, but he didn’t think that was the case here. Tom knew what happened and for some reason he wasn’t saying.

“Did you know Emily was missing this morning also?”

“Uh…no. I didn’t. Has she been found?”

“Yes, and if I find out that you have been messing around with her, losing your job will be the least of your worries.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. She’s cute, but too young.”

“You remember that.”

“Listen, all I want is to take a shower and wash all this wilderness stuff off me and then lie down and sleep.”

Cache didn’t know if he believed him or not.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

But he that is spiritual judgeth all things, yet he himself is judged of no man.

~1 CORINTHIANS 2:15

Mel strapped a .357 Magnum to her hip.

Cache eyed the gun. “Are we going to need that?”

“Alaska is dangerous country, and it never hurts to be prepared.” She slid a can of pepper spray into her belt opposite the .357, then looked him up and down. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“I’ve been looking forward to it.” Cache grabbed the walking stick he’d picked from the many Mel kept around the lodge for guests.

Cache had dressed in layers of clothes from a Mets T-shirt to his gray sweatshirt, and his worn hiking boots. He also had a lightweight rain jacket in his backpack. He knew how to hike, had spent most of his life backpacking for work and for pleasure. Granted, this would be his first hike since his injuries. He had to put his leg to the test someday. Someday looked pretty damn good today.

His digital camera was slung around his neck, with extra memory sticks in his backpack along with his traditional camera and film. He was prepared to capture whatever came his way.

Starting with Mel.

She was dressed similar to him, only instead of a sweatshirt, her trademark flannel. This time it was a blue and black plaid, standard white tank top, worn blue jeans, and hiking boots with miles of wear on them. Braided blond hair lay down her back like a thick rope and hand-painted wooden puffins dangled from her ears.

Story or no story, he had to have a few more pictures of her for himself. She was no longer that shattered little girl who hung over his mantel. She was a healthy, confident woman. One he was dangerously attracted to.

David, Nicole, and their boys, along with the Whitneys made up their troop with Rinka acting as mascot. Linnet had offered to watch Emily through the house-cleaning punishment her mother had dealt out, giving Nicole a chance for a much needed break. Tom would also be under Linnet’s watchful eye. Sergei was busy attending to chores around the lodge. Cache was grateful that he hadn’t seen any sign of Garrett. Maybe the man’s days off from the Alaska Wildlife Troopers were over and he’d returned to work.

One could always hope.

Mel had promised that this activity wouldn’t be too demanding. Most of the group had hiked yesterday and another strenuous trek wouldn’t be good for them.

Cache, on the other hand, was looking forward to pushing himself, breaking a sweat, and spending the day outdoors.

They ventured up the mountain behind the lodge where they entered a trail hidden in the shoulder-high bush. Lush Kelly-green ferns with fronds the length of his arm competed for space among the imposing, handsome vanilla flowers Mel labeled Pootschki. The plant was six feet in places and the white blooms clustered together like umbrellas. They brushed his shoulders as he walked by. The smell was earthly, wild, and much like the scent Mel carried around on her skin.

The depth of the brush bought out a storm of ravenous mosquitoes and Cache was grateful he’d taken his turn with the bug spray Mel had pasted around to everyone before they’d left the lodge.

“Aunt Mel, what kind of trail is this?” Quentin asked, passing up his mother.

Mel led the way with Quentin and Jonah behind her. Following them were David and Nicole, then Cache, with Rinka tailing his shadow. The lovesick Whitneys bought up the rear.

“We’re on an animal trail.”

“Like a bear trail?” Quentin asked, excitement in his voice.

“Bear?” Nicole exclaimed, moving closer to the boys.

“Don’t worry, if they’re out there, they’ve already heard us, and believe me, they don’t want any part of this group.” Mel smiled with a glint in her eye. “Besides, Rinka will let us know if any unfriendlies are about.” She caught Cache’s eye. “How you doing back there, Cache?”

“Just fine, so quit asking.” The more she coddled him, the more he hated it.

“At any time, if anyone needs to stop, to take a picture, or have a break, just speak up. We aren’t in a hurry, and remember, you’re on vacation.” Mel turned back around and continued to climb up the gradual slope.

He had to give her credit. She was great at the vocation she’d chosen. He knew her speak-up-if-you-needed-a-break part had been meant for him and so did everyone else, but she put it in a way that hadn’t singled him out.

They continued to climb until the slope leveled out on a hilltop meadow. Mel motioned for them to stop and be quiet. His breath caught in his throat. Just ahead, in a marshy pond, stood a bull moose chewing away on the lush grasses growing under the lily pad surface of the water. He moved his massive, antlered-head their direction and calmly watched them as his powerful jaws continued to chew. Cache had his camera in hand, snapping away.

Snow-kissed mountains, with black evergreen spruce standing like an army of thousands, framed the wild-flowered meadow, as the moose reigned with powerful dignity over the territory.

Mel guided them around the outskirts of the meadow, the moose keeping them in his sights, all the while chewing like he had nothing better to do than fill his belly.

“That was so cool, Aunt Mel. What other animals are out here?” Quentin asked.

Mel readjusted her backpack. “Fox, beavers, all sorts of birds, the before mentioned bears, and once I even saw a lynx, though they’re pretty rare. Animals are all around us. This is their home, after all, not ours.”

She took them along the tree line, the sound of water growing nearer the more they walked. The thunder of a waterfall announced itself long before they could see it. It cascaded down the ridge to tumble into a deep cobalt pool. Onyx boulders, obviously tossed here by ice and snow, had arranged themselves as though a landscape architect had designed the sight. Here the group broke for lunch.

The Whitneys paired off to the left, wanting their privacy. Nicole, David, and the boys settled down together with Rinka running circles around them. That left Mel and Cache to eat together.

“I know you don’t want me asking this, but how are you really doing?” Mel dropped her backpack unto the smooth, flat surface of a boulder and unzipped it, pulling out her sack lunch.

Cache looked at her, the sunlight turning her braided hair to white gold, her forget-me-not blue eyes sparkling with obvious joy of being outdoors. White water filled in the background. He couldn’t have asked for a better shot. “I’m doing great.” He reached for his camera and snapped her picture before she knew what he was about.

The contented look on her face immediately changed. Her eyes narrowed. “Listen, shutter boy, keep the camera pointed away from me.”

He captured her chin, holding it in the palm of his hand. “This face was made to be photographed. You’re beautiful, Mel.”

She shifted free of his grasp, dropped her pack, and sat cross-legged on the sweet smelling grass. “Flattery won’t work with me.”

Seemed as though she’d spent time working on reinforcing her barriers since last night. “What kind of sandwich do you have?” Cache asked upon finding his to be peanut butter with some sort of chocolate spread.

She unwrapped hers and grimaced. “Turkey with lettuce.”

“Trade?”

They switched sandwiches. “Our lunches must have been mixed up.” She pulled out a medley of vegetables and tossed them over to him along with an apple.

He, in turn, handed over the barbecue potato chips and a Snickers candy bar.

“How do you keep such a great figure while eating the junk that you do?”

She studied him for a moment. “I can’t figure out if that was a compliment or not?”

“It’s not a compliment. You’re killing yourself by eating that way. All that junk food isn’t good for you.”

“I need the carbs. Besides, I get a lot of exercise. Living here requires a tremendous amount of physical activity.”

“I can see that. Although, your body would perform better if you fed it better fuel.”

“I’m not into the granola lifestyle.” She nodded to his lunch of green stuff. “I’ve heard it all before, from my parents to Linnet. If they couldn’t influence me with a healthier diet, I don’t think you will.”

“Okay, no pictures and no health food. Anything else I need to know?”

“What? You writing a book?”

If she only knew. “Just making conversation.”

“Well, if that’s what we’re doing, how long have you been taking pictures?” She turned the tables on him.

He propped himself up on one arm, and reclined on his side in the soft grass, stretching his legs out. They were somewhat secluded from the rest of the guests by the boulders at their backs, and the noise of the waterfall kept their conversion intimate. “My dad gave me a camera when I was ten and I caught the bug. I’ve been taking pictures ever since.”

“I bet you were real annoying at family get-togethers.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

“Yeah, especially when I caught my Uncle Gordon goosing my Aunt Charlotte.” He smiled over the memory, and munched on a carrot.