Quinn could tell Alex was excited, but then he was, too. He was also nervous because Brent Bayer was going out with them today and not just visiting the camp to observe lectures. As usual, Quinn felt unsettled by the fact that he could not see Brent’s eyes outside because of his light-darkened glasses. That reminded him that the man saw things from two different perspectives—trying to look good for public relations, and from his own financial, bottom-line perspective. At least the guy wore a backpack today, which made him look a bit more prepared for the day.
Quinn appreciated the support from this important investor, but was Brent thinking their Q-Man was mixing business with pleasure by spending time with Alex and having her around the show? Or was he thinking that about Ryker and Val? After all, right now Brent singled out Val to talk to. Well, maybe she’d made a beeline for him since he was from a big city and she hated it here.
“All right, everybody,” Quinn announced to halt the buzz of expectant chatter in the dining hall where they had all gathered. “We’re going deep in the woods today after your prep work around here. No more sample footprints in little soil boxes. As our cameraman, Ryker, here would say, ‘We are going live!’”
Quinn noted that Alex had edged a bit closer to him around the side of the room. She was dressed for the afternoon trek and activities, but Val looked like a fashion plate and sore thumb at the same time. And, at something Brent had evidently told her, she’d flounced off in a huff straight to Ryker again.
Quinn went on. “Mary, Sam and I have laid out backyard-size plots in the forest for each of you to explore and evaluate. The area is heavily treed, so, although you will be in close proximity to each other—and always to Sam and me—stick to your own cordoned-off area so we know where you are. If you absolutely need help, call out your name and one of us will be there pronto.”
“No bear bells needed?” someone at the back asked.
“I think the power of bear bells is a myth. If you encounter a bear, it’s better to just shout loudly—and carry bear pepper spray, but we won’t go armed with that today. You also stand your ground, lift your arms or backpack over your head to appear bigger than you are. Do not run, because that triggers a chase-prey response in them, and they can run about thirty miles per hour. Although we find bear tracks in this area, most of the bears are a bit farther to the east at this time where there is more open land and sunlight to ripen strawberries—though we have some nearby.”
“And,” one of the Germans called out, “that’s why Mary scolded me for not putting the trash can lid on tight—bears looking for food.”
“Exactly. They like a free lunch as much as we do,” Quinn said. As ever, when lecturing about bears, his gut tightened. He never shared with his students what had happened to his father, but it was always in his head and heart.
“Of course,” he went on, “you’ll study and report on any unusual flora and fauna you see, identify and evaluate any animal tracks—some we have intentionally set up for you. But today your real focus needs to be on how people, intruders in the wild, reveal themselves in your area. Yeah, Steve. Question?” he asked a guy from Canada who was an eager beaver—which reminded him they had even placed some beaver tracks and old fishing lures in the three areas near the stream that cut through the property.
“Is it okay to take notes of what we observe, or do you want us to just use recall and not write the stuff down for discussions?”
“You need to train yourself to observe and later recall without notes. The truth is, for now whatever works for you is what you should do. But stopping to fish out paper and write distracts your awareness and senses you must use in the wilds. If Ryker had this assignment, he’d have his camera ready, though not the one he uses for the show.”
Several people turned to look at Ryker. He didn’t even realize Quinn had just referred to him, because he was in deep—and apparently heated—whispered conversation with that woman again. Damn, he wished Val weren’t such a distraction, but he didn’t want to bar her from the action and upset Ryker. And besides, this was a rare appearance for her, and he’d invited Alex.
“So,” Quinn went on, “in other words, to each his own, but pay close attention to your surroundings. Anybody ever read the Sherlock Holmes books? Clues, clues, clues, then, ah...instructions—I mean, deductions.”
It occurred to him that having Alex here today was distracting him in a good way, while Val was just a pain. He’d admitted to himself and to Sam and Mary—Josh had overheard, too—that he wanted Alex to be safe in her new environs. He tried not to frown, recalling the photos she’d given him a few minutes ago of the footprints and scratch marks outside her bedroom window.
“So Ryker is filming us for the show today?” Jason, a guy from North Dakota, called out.
“He is, but try to ignore him so it doesn’t look like you’re playing to the camera. There may be individual interview time later, but today, stick to your task. Tonight after dinner we’ll discuss everything you observed and learned.”
He went on to explain how they had intentionally left things like candy bar wrappers, snags of cloth, pieces of tissues and cigarette butts behind to be collected and studied.
“In our discussions,” he said, “I don’t want to hear ‘I found a cigarette butt by the trail.’ I want to hear if it was filtered, if it had lipstick on it and, if so, what color? Did the smoker grind it out on the ground? Angrily? Carelessly? Do the human tracks look like a woman’s? Is she in a hurry? Are her footsteps lagging? Does she limp? What direction did she go?”
“Like info for possible search and rescue?” one of the Denver ladies asked.
“Absolutely,” Quinn said, turning toward her. “I’ve worked as an adviser on several SAR teams. By the way, Alaskan SAR teams often have a veterinarian tech consultant on board, especially in case the search dogs or sled dogs are injured.”
He realized that the vet tech reference was a non sequitur, but no one seemed to notice—except Alex. He darted a glance at her, which he’d been trying not to do again. Her eyes had widened at that. She smiled, then bit her lower lip. He fought not to smile back, not to keep staring at her.
“Well, time to get going,” he announced. “It will be a busy and intense afternoon.”
Alex knew Val didn’t like any of this, but she was surprised when she opted to stay behind. Alex could tell Ryker was both annoyed and embarrassed. Hadn’t that woman ever learned you’d catch more flies with honey than with vinegar? If she wanted Ryker, she had to meet him at least partway. And she hardly looked one bit ready for a hike, clutching that big fashion purse like that.
Alex saw Ryker arguing with Val again, pointing a finger in her face, then turning away and heading out, his camera on one shoulder and a backpack on the other. Even snazzy-looking Brent Bayer had a backpack. Mary and Sam went out with everyone; Alex thought she was looking good today, and Sam had a real spring in his step. Josh, with a knife in a sheath on his belt, was going the wrong way back toward the camp with a huge plastic roll of what looked like yellow police tape, so he’d evidently been cordoning off the individual search areas. She’d seen him grip the roll by its plastic handle, then pull the stuff out with his other hand. He certainly was a jack-of-all-trades around here and at the lodge, always in the background somehow.
She followed Quinn but gave him some space, as did Brent Bayer.
“So you’re not a paying guest?” he asked her with a smile that flaunted teeth so perfect they had to be artificial. He wore glasses that went lighter or darker depending on the sunlight.
“Just a friend along to observe.”
“Actually, Ginger mentioned you. Glad you’re supportive of the show. The sky’s the limit with it if everyone pulls together. It’s doing well, and we don’t want anyone to rock the boat. Speaking of which, I’d like to go out in a boat on the lake sometime,” he said, gesturing in its direction. “You know, take a look at that lethal waterfall that buried the little town years ago. Mary Spruce was telling me about that, and we should work it into a segment on the show, though she doesn’t agree.”
“Then I’d go with her feelings. Losing ones you love is so hard and never really goes away, and that should be honored.”
“But history is fascinating, and people have a right to know.”
She could see her reflection in his dark glasses when he turned to look at her again. He went on, “Mary is very protective of this area and the people. But she and Sam, as secondary characters, are very popular with the show’s audience, even though they don’t appear as much as Quinn. But the haunted elements—I hear there are ghosts afoot at night—might appeal to a bigger audience, too.”
She hesitated to tell him about the night cries she and Quinn had heard. Maybe Quinn had told him, but he didn’t need to know the two of them had been out all night in the woods.
They all stopped as Quinn started directing everyone to their areas. Sam and Mary gestured to people who hesitated, pointing them in the right directions. Individuals started to spread out from this point into wedges of areas like the spokes of a wheel.
Brent Bayer turned to her again and said, “Be sure and watch the segments of the programs that show the advanced survival classes. These beginner students always seem like bumblers at first, but our demographics show most of our audience relates more to them. See you later. I’m just going to drop back and observe, too.”
Mary suddenly appeared on the trail where Alex followed Quinn. She saw Ryker dart off, evidently ready to film in different areas.
“That man,” she told Alex, rolling her eyes toward the now-distant Brent. “A lawyer, yes, but Ryker and Quinn call him a fixer, too.”
“So I heard. But here to fix what?”
Mary shrugged and shook her head. Alex almost asked her if she really did agree on including some of the local lore of the tragic loss of life under the lake, but this wasn’t the place or time. Alex noted Mary didn’t wear her bear claw necklace, but the deep forest was hardly the place for it.
“Wish he could fix how I feel. I’m gonna throw up my lunch,” Mary said. “Don’t know why they call this morning sickness. It’s all-day sickness, if you ask me. Baby making and baby growing, a joy but tough, too. But, don’t mean to complain about something I’ve wanted real bad for so long. See you later,” she added and turned away to disappear down a side path.
Keeping about a twenty-foot distance from Quinn, Alex watched him work. He was good with people, helpful but firm. He asked more questions, refusing to give them the answers. Sam did the same. Ryker reappeared, came and went, occasionally darting down a side path, filming something or someone. When Quinn sometimes looked back at her, her heart thudded and not from exertion. He nodded and went back to business.
She tried to observe as he had said, but she ended up studying people rather than things on the ground. How different they were. Even among the three women from Denver, there was a leader, a tentative person and someone who really didn’t want to be here.
Later Sam came up to her. He looked ahead and saw Quinn was in intense conversation with a student, so maybe he’d actually wanted to talk to him. “You seen Mary lately?” he asked. “I’m scared if she throws up out here she’ll be too tired to keep going. Josh is back at the lodge, but I haven’t seen her and don’t want to head all the way back to look. Got to help keep an eye on our students.”
“I saw her about fifteen minutes ago on the main path—back a ways,” she told him. “She did say she didn’t feel very good before we separated. I know where she cut off. Probably went to help someone in their area. Tell Quinn I’m just going back on this main path to where she cut off to call for her.”
He frowned. “Such good news about a baby, but not if it—it makes her sick and weak. Okay, I’ll tell Quinn you’re coming right back with or without Mary.”
Alex was glad to help. She had the feeling that Sam, even Mary, were wary of her and she’d like to be in their good graces. Next to Val, she should look pretty good to them, since she’d never cause Quinn any problems about doing his job and living here, though she’d pulled him away from the program to look for Spenser that one night.
Alex backtracked to the spot where she’d seen Mary cut off. Maybe she even headed toward the compound. Alex intended only to call for her, but she wondered if there would be a trail to follow.
She took only ten strides in the direction Mary had gone, cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Mary. Mary! Are you all right?”
She thought she heard a murmur, but then the wind was in the trees, and she’d heard a stream that fed the lake was back this way. They had said the stream was near the only rocky outcrop in the vicinity. Quinn had warned the students to watch their footing near there, since several of the roped-off areas were in that direction.
“Mary! It’s Alex! Sam’s looking for you!”
Yes, she did hear a murmur, or maybe even a woman’s voice. What if Mary had gotten sick or was too weak and needed help? But then, could that sound have been the wind in the trees or the stream itself?
She would just peer around what appeared to be a natural bend in the narrow path ahead. The ground had turned from soil to stone here and was on the rise. If she saw nothing, she’d head back to Quinn or find Sam again. This was the general direction back toward base camp so perhaps Mary had headed there and then felt even more ill. Certainly, knowing this area as she likely did, Mary Spruce would never lose her way.
Alex peered carefully around what she recognized as a massive cedar tree, like the ones Quinn had pointed out to her before. Her feet crushed the brown-blue berries and needles. She spotted that dratted devil’s club plant and edged around it, too. Like Mary, it seemed she had found a shortcut back to the camp. She could see the outcrop of rocky footing rising a bit more in this direction.
At least if Quinn got upset she’d gone off on her own, she’d tell him she could actually see the top of the stockade fence and part of the dining hall roof from here, so she was almost back to his property. She parted two low-hanging cedar boughs and carefully shuffled to the brow of rock about fifteen feet above the crooked stream.
She looked down and gasped. Though partly screened by foliage below, a woman—it must be Mary—was lying beside the stream, maybe throwing up into it.
Or maybe Mary was unconscious. Alex could only see her feet from here, one arm flung out and two sprawled legs not moving. What if she was going to miscarry? It was her first trimester—what if she was carrying twins? What if...
She had to get to Mary, help her. Alex called her name, then looked for a way to get down to her. People must use that path below lined with bushes. As she started carefully down, she held on to their limbs. Some of them batted at her in the breeze, but she kept carefully going, around a turn, down again. There seemed to be natural footholds here, and she could picture Quinn’s campers going up or down this way. It seemed like miles but it wasn’t far at all.
On the rocky ledge by the stream, Alex rushed the few feet to Mary and bent over her. The stream gurgled, as if it were retching, too. Dear God, smears of crimson. Blood?
Alex gave a little cry as if she’d been punched in the stomach. It wasn’t Mary! The legs—the clothes...
The woman lay sprawled at the edge of the water with her neck at an odd angle, which made her head and hair dangle down the bank of the stream so she hadn’t seen this was not a redhead at first.
This was not Mary, but Val!
Unseeing, the woman stared down at the rushing water. Her kinky blond hair was mud-and blood-streaked. Claw marks had mostly shredded her shirt. Oh, she’d made a crude necklace of the bear bells she bought earlier today, and they hung on a string, tipped toward her bloody chin. Her throat and shoulders were deeply scratched like the wall outside Alex’s room at the lodge.
So Val had decided to come out, after all, at least partway. Had she fallen or a bear dragged her and mauled her? Had she fought back? Had she screamed for help?
Alex knew better than to touch her again.
“Val? Val!”
But it was no use. Dead. Definitely dead.