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Before wakeup call at dawn, Sam assigned Aidan and Maya to take the big water bottles down to the lake and filter water for the hike out. First Aidan looked surprised, then his mouth hardened in annoyance. By the end of an expedition, the crew kids were supposed to take on all these tasks. But he left without saying anything, Maya trailing behind him, tossing concerned glances back over her shoulder as she walked. The girl knew Sam well enough to guess that something was up.
As soon as her peer counselors were out of camp, Sam crawled into Aidan’s tent. He’d already stuffed his sleeping bag, but she squeezed the cushy roll to be sure nothing other than down was inside. Then she crawled back out and checked his pack. In the top and outside pockets, she found only the clothing and the gear he’d been assigned to carry, and the disc of woven grass he’d created.
She held the coaster for a few seconds, turning it over in her hands. Something about weaving, something about Aidan. Her exhausted brain failed to snare the elusive thought. She put the coaster back and moved on.
Unzipping the bottom pocket, she discovered two plastic bags rolled up inside his rain pants. Grainy off-white powder had been double-bagged, duct tape covering the zip-lock closures for good measure.
Damn. All her suspicions had been correct. Was Aidan part of a drug smuggling operation? Like Troy, she’d heard about drug drops in the north Cascades, small planes dropping loads containing avalanche beacons that a hiker with the corresponding transceiver could easily locate. For all she knew, tracking could probably be done with smart phones and GPS apps these days.
They were camped less than twenty miles from the Canadian border. The plane had come from the north; these bags of whatever it was were probably headed south for distribution across the States.
She poked the bag with a finger. Hundreds of dollars worth of drugs? Thousands? She’d bet it was only one of many Aidan and Heigler had stashed in the woods last night. What was in the bag—cocaine, meth?
“Looks like H to me.”
The voice startled Sam so much she nearly fell over.
Ashley squatted down beside her. “Where’d you find it?” The girl’s eyes were glued to the bags and she licked her lips, a sharp reminder of her history.
Sam gathered up the bags. Damn. Now she’d have to decide what to do next, and quickly. She hadn’t found a weapon in Aidan’s pack. If he had one, it was on his person or stashed nearby. Sam debated what to tell the girl and whether or not it was wise to confront Aidan. Then the decision was abruptly made for her as Aidan materialized in front of her, his arms full of water bottles, Maya by his side.
He set down the water bottles and fiddled with the fresh bandage wrapped around his left hand.
Maya immediately focused on the bags in Sam’s hands, her eyes wide. “Is that what I think it is? Where’d that come from?” Then, “Damn, Sam, what happened to your face?”
Sam gingerly fingered the swelling on her left cheek that had partially closed her left eye. “I collided with a tree last night.” She stood up. “And only Aidan knows where this came from.”
He looked up. “I...” A fast-moving storm of emotions flashed over his face. First, fear, or maybe simply shock at being discovered. Second, denial raced through so quickly she barely noticed its shadowy form. Third, he signaled the improbable thought of flight as his gaze skittered around the nearby woods. Or did he have a weapon stashed in the trees? Was he hoping for help from a partner?
Sam’s skin prickled at the idea that Heigler might be waiting nearby with his knife, but she resisted the urge to follow Aidan’s gaze and kept her eyes on the college student.
Finally, Aidan settled on a strategy and turned back to Sam, his mouth grim under his red-blond whiskers. “I found that last night. When that plane flew through here, I was pretty sure it had to be a drug drop.”
“Where’s the rest of the load?”
He fidgeted a second longer. “I buried it. Well, I didn’t have a shovel, so I hid it under a log, so the mules couldn’t find it.”
Drug lingo. “Was there a signal device of some kind?”
“Avalanche beacon. I tossed it into the lake.” He rubbed his wet hands against the thighs of his pants, calmer now that he’d decided on his story. “I figured I’d take these back to the cops as evidence.” He pointed to the bags. “And then I’d lead them back to the rest.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about it last night?”
His face blushed a darker shade of red. “I was worried about you and that guy. He had to be here for the drugs. You were bleeding and shook up. I didn’t want to pile on anything else.”
Ashley and Maya turned to Sam, their expressions horrified. “What guy?”
Aidan was making himself out to be a hero. He’d been with Kyla on the last trip. Had there been a drug drop then? Had he drugged the group beforehand like he had last night? Her peer counselor, the young man she’d believed was a natural for this job, was also a drug dealer.
Gabriel was up now, emitting dramatic sound effects as he yawned and stretched. Nick emerged from his tent. Taylor and Olivia crawled out minutes later.
Taylor towered over Sam and Maya to ask, “What’s going on?”
“Damn, Cap’n, what happened to your neck?” Justin joined the crowd. “Someone try to hang you?” He stepped around to look at the other side of her face. “Who have you been fighting?”
“Everything’s fine, crew,” Sam reassured them, stuffing the bags of drugs back into Aidan’s pack. “There was a little incident last night, but it’s over. Let’s focus on breakfast and then we’ll get you back to your families. Aidan, keep everything moving, okay?”
She waited until he gave her a nod. When he walked away, she finished searching his pack. No weapons. If he hadn’t lost his pocketknife in the lake last night as he’d told her, it had to be on him.
“Maya, could I talk to you for a minute?” She led the girl far enough away that they couldn’t be heard.
“What the hell, Sam?” Maya raised a hand toward her tender neck abrasions.
Sam blocked that hand before Maya could touch the stinging slashes.
“Klapton.” Sam watched her young comrade’s face carefully. She didn’t want to suspect Maya, but the girl had been on the previous expeditions with Kyla and Aidan.
“Kyla’s old boyfriend, the guy from Facebook she was worried about?”
“He’s that hunter we’ve seen twice.”
Maya’s eyes widened. “He’s Klapton? He attacked you?” Her gaze darted around the forest that surrounded them. “Is he still around?”
Sam touched the girl’s arm. “He believed he was following Kyla.”
One of Maya’s ebony eyebrows dipped. “What? That’s crazy.”
“Well, so is he,” Sam said. “But I want to know about Aidan. You were on the last trip with him and Kyla, weren’t you?”
Maya’s expression turned cautious. “Yeah. Why?”
“Do you remember a plane or helicopter flying over at night?”
The girl shook her head. “But I sleep like the dead out here, you know.”
“Does Aidan always make cocoa on the last night?”
“If there’s enough left. I think it’s a sweet thing to do.” She paused, frowning. “Wait, you don’t think...”
Maya had been involved in some sketchy things in the past, but Sam was convinced by her protégé’s demeanor that Maya was innocent this time.
“I do think, Maya. But we’re not going to say anything until we get everyone out of here.”
Maya put her fists on her hips. “You want to tell me what’s goin’ on, Sam?”
“Not yet.” She patted the girl’s arm. “I promise that I will when I can. C’mon. Only a few more hours to go, and we’re done.”
Sam replaced the gauze patch on Justin’s forehead with a clean one so that he wouldn’t frighten the staff or parents, then instructed Aidan to lead the group back to the parking lot while she brought up the rear. She didn’t want to turn her back on him, and she was determined to keep all the teens in view, too. Maya walked in the middle of the line of hikers, occasionally tossing questioning glances over her shoulder at Sam on the turns and slopes when they could see each other.
As Sam walked, her fragmented thoughts about Aidan converged. The woven grass coaster. There’d been a heart woven out of grass at the makeshift memorial at the Pinnacle Lake trailhead. His silver Subaru Forester—wasn’t that the car she’d seen driving out of the trailhead parking lot?
She knew that sometimes murderers revisited the scene. Was Aidan a killer who came back that day to savor the memories at the site of his bloody handiwork?
She had good reason to suspect Aidan was involved in the drug drop. Maybe Kyla was the one who didn’t drink the cocoa on the previous expedition. Maybe Kyla had witnessed Aidan collecting drugs.
Icy slush slid through her veins. She’d lived and traveled with Aidan Callahan for three weeks. She was sure now that Aidan was a drug dealer. Was he a murderer, too?
By the time they reached the parking lot, odds were good that all of the kids would have metabolized and sweated away any drugs Aidan had added to the cocoa. She needed to talk to Detective Greene. If these suspicions were crazy, the woman would probably tell her so.
She wished she could channel Kyla. What did her friend know about Aidan? About Klapton? At intervals Sam turned to look over her shoulder, unable to rid her mind of the creepy vision of Erik Heigler following her crew back to civilization.
