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FISH GAVE THE GUIDE an understanding nod and tried to weasel a few more facts out of the man. “Can you elaborate? Do people drown? I thought the life vests kept that from happening.”
“I can’t give specifics, since I don’t have first-hand knowledge. I’ve never seen any bad shit personally, but that group seems to have a higher range of quitters than most.”
“Quitters? You mean people stop in the middle of the tour? I didn’t think you could do that.” He closed in on the guide, enough to show this was a private, just between the two of us, conversation. “There’ve been a few times on this trip where I would have been glad to quit, if I had a way of getting back to civilization on my own.”
He gave a pointed glance toward the shore where the Blackthorne raft sat. “Or tossed a couple of my companions overboard to get a few minutes of peace and quiet. With the traffic on the river, someone else would pick them up, wouldn’t they? They’d be rescued.”
The guide bobbed his head. “Of course. The companies might be rivals, but that’s the marketing people’s job. Out here, there’s no need to compete for customers.” He swiveled toward the rafts. “I’ve gotta finish setting up camp.”
“Sure, no problem, and thanks. I might be seeing you someday.”
The guide’s skeptical expression said he wasn’t counting on it. Or was it more of an I hope not?
Fish meandered through the groups of people, choosing his targets and his questions to avoid conflict with his orders. If the geography of the river meant a limited number of campsites, there was likely to be socializing between groups. They’d see familiar faces, maybe compare notes on guides, food, the overall fun level. He approached a cluster of people enjoying wine and beer. He sipped from his prop beer can, introduced himself as Harry.
“A friend of mine said he was going on one of these river tours. I’d hoped to run into him, but no luck so far. Maybe I confused the dates, or he was on a different tour. Have you seen him?”
He showed Rambler’s picture around, watching for tells as they looked at the image.
Most reactions were simple head shakes, polite No, doesn’t look familiar answers. One woman scowled. “I remember him. Wondered why he was here. Always off by himself. Couple of his group complained he wasn’t pulling his weight, either on or off the river. Didn’t pay much attention after that. I’m here to have a good time, not play social worker. I do enough of that in my job.”
She worked in a drug rehab center, Fish discovered, and said Rambler displayed the signs of someone who should be in her facility.
Good to know the guy had nailed his role.
Two others admitted to recognizing him, but couldn’t say when or where they’d last seen him. Nobody seemed to care.
People were moving toward their groups’ dinner lines, so Fish wandered off in search of Scrooge.
His luck hadn’t been any better. “I skirted the drug smuggling connection, given the river borders Mexico, but nobody’s seen or heard anything.”
Fish crushed his empty water-disguised-as-beer can. “You go ahead. I have another question for Ace.”
“Don’t forget the rules. Meanwhile, I’ll see if Emi or Fozzie have anything. Meet you at our campsite.” Scrooge took off toward the perimeter of the assorted sites.
Fish switched into his Harry persona as he approached Ace, who was rearranging supplies in his company raft. “One more question,” Fish said. He was treading on rocky ground, but Fish wasn’t going to mention Rambler. Keep things general.
Ace’s smile was forced. “Go for it.”
“Let’s say there’s an accident, or a family emergency back home, or someone freaks. How does someone leave the tour?”
“No refunds,” Ace said. “If you’re not sure rafting is your gig, you should start with a day trip, not a week-long excursion.”
The man’s open expression and relaxed body language said he’d accepted Fish’s cover.
“Understood,” Fish said. “I’ve got a touch of OCD. I need to know everything down to the last detail.” He kicked a rock toward the water.
Ace wrapped a bungee cord around a cooler. “Medical emergency, we’ll medevac them out. Family emergency, depending on what it is and where we are, would be a chopper if there’s no road access. If they want to quit, we’ll try to hook them up with a group that’s hiking to a spot where they can get a ride to civilization.”
“Are there a lot of those hiking groups?” Fish asked.
Ace straightened, set his hands on his low back and twisted his spine. “Might take a day or more to meet one. Depends where we are.”
Fish thanked him and left, his stomach rumbling. He wondered what kind of rations Blackthorne had packed. They had packed food, hadn’t they? Fish wasn’t in the mood for lizards or snakes tonight.
He meandered to their site. Two tents, meant to stash gear, not overnight accommodations. No matter. He’d spent nights under the stars in worse conditions.
“We move when everyone’s turned in for the night,” Manny said. “Fozzie has a lead.”
So much for sleeping.
***
LEXI PARKED IN THE school lot and strolled toward the doors. In a few minutes, a rambunctious stream of exuberant kids would flow out, chatting, racing toward waiting cars or parents.
She spotted Sofia’s hair ribbons, the child gazing toward where Lexi had promised to meet her. Sofia’s eyes lit up as she spied Lexi, and she broke into a run. “I got all my spelling words right on the practice test.”
Lexi bent and gave her a hug. “Fantastic. You’ll nail the real one.”
“Can we get a snack on the way home? Am I going to your house again? Will Marv be there?”
Lexi couldn’t help but smile at the way the child’s questions shook forth like pepper from a grinder. “Yes, yes, and no,” she said.
Sofia’s nose wrinkled, as if trying to remember what she’d asked, and how to match Lexi’s answers to her questions.
Would breaking the news to Sofia over ice cream be better than waiting until they got to her house, or would more familiar surroundings be better? The whirling thoughts of what serving as a guardian for an eight-year-old entailed overwhelmed her.
“How does a frozen yogurt sound?” Lexi asked.
“Yummy!” Sofia tossed her backpack into the car and climbed in after it.
At the shop, Sofia studied the case filled with offerings.
“Three toppings, no more,” Lexi said.
Sofia rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. It’s always three, and one has to be fruit.”
Lexi tugged one of Sofia’s pigtails. She wouldn’t shatter the mood with her news. They’d enjoy their treats, something they did often on Big Sister days.
Sofia looked up from her yogurt, the spoon halfway to her mouth. “Can I live at your house always?”
There was an opening, but Lexi couldn’t bring herself to say anything more than, “We can talk later.”
Later stretched out past homework time, past dinner time, past reading time, past bath time. With Sofia tucked into her sleeping bag, Lexi sat on the floor beside her and took the child’s hand. Trying to keep the tears from her voice, she said, “Sofia. I have some sad news, and I need you to be a very brave girl.”
The next morning, Lexi dropped a somber and confused Sofia at school. She and Marv had decided the security precautions would keep Sofia safe, and being among her friends and routine would be best for the child.
That Sofia’s grief had been short-lived broke Lexi’s heart. Had the child’s home life been so bad that she didn’t care that her mother had died? Or would this turn into a delayed reaction? Lexi promised herself she’d find a child psychologist and make an appointment for the two of them.
Meanwhile, Kalen had texted another meeting for later this morning.
0945 UPIK.
The library didn’t open until ten, and FedEx never hit her neighborhood before three, so she was without computer access until after her meeting. She was keeping clear of the station until her leave was over. Lexi texted back the name of a café across town. Knowing she might be followed anywhere she went, trying to be secretive was a wasted effort. No more Ubers, no more sneaking through buildings. If someone came after her, she’d be ready. She’d chosen a turtleneck and a loose-fitting chambray button-down overshirt that concealed her weapon.
She had enough time to stop at a discount store and buy a suitcase to hold the rest of Sofia’s things. She’d fill it when she met the cleaning company at eleven.
When she arrived at the café, Kalen was already there, a coffee mug and a scone in front of him. He glanced up when she entered, but gave no sign of recognition. After scanning the café herself, Lexi placed her order at the counter, then joined him.
He had a messenger bag at his feet, and he lifted it onto the table. He waited until Lexi was served, then handed her a stack of photographs.
Lexi recognized one as the surveillance photo he’d texted her yesterday, but enlarged to show detail. Cataline’s image was fuzzy, but Lexi had no doubt it was her.
“Taken outside the victim’s apartment building,” Kalen said.
Lexi looked through the others, all part of the same series. Although Snake’s arm was draped around Cataline’s shoulder, there was an apprehension in her eyes that said this wasn’t a meeting of friends.
“I talked to one of my contacts at the jail,” Kalen said. “One of the COs.”
“Seems another place the Falcon would have influence. I’m sure a corrections officer was involved in an inmate’s death when I was on the job in Indy.”
“I’ve known my contact for over ten years. He’s solid. He confirms that Snake was in the courthouse for his arraignment during the same window as Cataline. It’s not out of the question that he came into contact with her and slipped her the drugs.”
“She didn’t do drugs. Everyone agrees. So why would she have taken them?”
“I plan to ask when I visit Snake later.”
Lexi itched to go along, but knew it wouldn’t work. Going about her daily life was one thing, visiting an inmate with probable connections to the Falcon at the jail was a whole different game. Nothing like painting a target on your back and standing in the middle of an open field.
“You’ll tell me what you find,” she said. “If Snake was responsible for Cataline’s death, I want him to pay. And I want to get him to give up the Falcon, too.”
“Agreed. Although my guess is Snake’s connection to the Falcon is going to have too many layers between them to prove anything.”
“I’ll find a way.”