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A shrill scream pierced the night air and brought Dan Connor racing out onto the deck. The evening had been quiet, he and his partner, Claire, enjoying their last hours together before she left to take up a three month research contract in northern Australia. This intrusion into their serenity was, to say the least, unwelcome.
“What on earth was that?” Claire asked as she joined him. “It sounded like a banshee!”
He smiled and put his arm around her shoulders although his eyes continued to scan the marina and the shore beyond.
“I think it was a false alarm.” His gaze drifted up to the mast above the cabin. “I’ve heard something similar a couple of times before, but I thought I had it fixed.”
He pointed to the wires leading up to the array of antennae fixed to the masthead. “Every now and then the wind hits at just the right angle to create some kind of vibration between those wires and the mast. I’ve tried adding straps to tighten them up, but I guess I still need more.” He turned her gently towards the cabin door. “At least this time it wasn’t in the middle of the night. Scared the hell out of me last time it happened. It was two o’clock in the morning and I was sound asleep—dreaming of you no doubt.” He kissed the top of her head. “Not the best time for a banshee to come calling!”
She laughed. “Is there ever a good time to hear a banshee?”
***
BEFORE THE INTERRUPTION they had been in the wheelhouse of Dan’s boat, standing in front of the computer looking at a map of the north coast of Australia where Claire would be heading the following day. In their absence, the screen had gone dark, but a quick flick of Claire’s finger brought it back to life. Dan leaned down and peered over Claire’s shoulder at the image that appeared.
“It looks empty,” he said. “Are there any towns there?”
She laughed and moved the mouse to reveal more of the coastline.
“There’s at least one,” she said. “But it isn’t very big.” She expanded the view. “There it is. It’s called Maningrida.”
“Does it at least have a store?” Dan asked. “How will you get supplies?”
“They’ve promised the boat will be fully stocked when I arrive,” she replied, “but they said there’s two or three small stores there where I can pick up anything else I need.”
“How about a doctor? I don’t see anything that looks like a hospital.” Dan put his hands on her shoulders and rested his chin on her head. “What if you get hurt?”
Claire leaned back and looked up at the man she had shared her life with for the past five years. A few strands of gray had crept into his dark hair, and the scar that ran high across his cheekbone had been joined by a few lines around his eyes, some courtesy of the weather but most due to his job. They both had their own careers, she as a marine biologist and he as a detective with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, but while they had often been apart for days, and occasionally weeks at a time, they had always stayed in close contact. This trip was different. They would be a long way apart for over three months and because of the difference in time, staying in touch was not going to be easy.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. “The dugongs live in the inlet where the water’s shallow. I won’t be out on the open ocean.” She pointed to the screen where a scattering of roads and houses had appeared. “There’s even an airport and it’s only an hour or so to fly from Darwin. You could come and visit me.”
Dan laughed. “Yeah, sure. Somehow I don’t think my boss would agree, and even if he did, it’s what? Seventeen hours? Seventeen hours locked in a sardine can flying over the Pacific? And that only gets me to Sydney. How many hours after that to get up to Darwin? We’re talking close to a week just to get there and back. Australia’s a damn big country—and you know how I feel about flying.”
She did know how he felt about flying. It was one of the few things he was afraid of. It was something he had admitted to her early on in their relationship when she had asked him why they didn’t simply take the plane down to Vancouver instead of taking his boat. After all the plane would only take an hour while Dreamspeaker would take almost three days.
“I like being on the water,” he had said, shrugging off her question. “I like going slow. It lets me relax. I can watch the coast slide by, see the bears and otters on the beaches and the eagles in the trees. If I’m lucky I’ll see orcas, and humpbacks, and maybe dolphins. I would miss all of that if I flew down on a plane.”
“Surely you can see otters and orcas here at the marina. Isn’t that enough?”
“Nope. Not even close,” he had answered, but his response had been too quick, too easy, and she had seen the evasion behind it.
When she had raised her eyebrows and continued to look at him, he had given her a sheepish look and told her the truth. “Flying’s just something I don’t like to do. It scares the hell out of me. It’s . . . unnatural. Those things have no right getting up into the air let alone staying there.”
Listening to him now, she could hear the worry beneath the disparaging humour and she stood up and wrapped her arms around him. “Do you really mind my going? It’s only twelve weeks. I’ll be back before you know it.”
He snorted and pulled her close. “Yeah right. Only twelve weeks. More if you add in travel time. I’ll barely have time to miss you—although come to think of it, I did see this good-looking woman walking around town the other day . . .”
He doubled over as Claire poked her fist into his stomach.
“Don’t even think of it,” she said. “If you want something to do you can fix that winch up front so it actually works properly, and those doors in the stateroom need some work too.”
“Yes ma’am,” Dan said, pulling her back into his arms. “And no, I really don’t mind. In fact I’m happy for you. Yes, I’m going to miss you, and yes, I’ll probably worry about you, but I know you’ll be careful and it’s too good an opportunity to miss. I’ll be fine. Now tell me about these things you’ll be studying.” He pointed to the odd-looking creature that had appeared on the screen.
“Dugongs,” she said, sitting back down in front of the computer. “I’ve been reading up on them and they really are quite amazing. They’re related to manatees.” She pointed to the image of a large, gray creature with a short trunk-like nose and tusks.
“Not quite as cute as a sea otter,” he said, “but probably better looking than a banshee.”
She sighed and shook her head. She would miss this easy bantering. “I don’t think they have any banshees over there—although I’m sure they have their own spirit creatures.” Her face turned serious. “Do you believe in them—spirit creatures?”
“You mean like the ones Walker sometimes talks about?”
She nodded.
He took a long time to answer and when he did he didn’t dismiss the idea outright as she had expected.
“Not really, but I know he believes in them, and he’s one of the most sensible and grounded people I know so I can’t completely dismiss the possibility. Hell, you and I have both seen the kind of strength he can find when he calls on them, but whether it’s really spirits or simply the strength of his belief that works for him, I don’t know.”
He glanced at the beautifully carved paddle that was attached to the wall of the wheelhouse. It had been a gift from Joel, a young Haida man he had helped a couple of years before.
“If you had asked me that question a few years ago, I would have had a completely different answer,” he said. “Now . . .” He shook his head.
Claire watched him for a few moments then shrugged, picked up the cup she had been drinking out of and took it to the sink.
“Well, no spirit, even a well-intentioned one, is going to help me pack for this trip, so I had better get to it.” She turned to look at him. “Will you come to the airport and see me off?”
“Depends on which airport,” he answered with a smile. “Port Hardy is an easy drive. Vancouver on the other hand . . .”
She laughed. “Knowing how you feel about flying I wouldn’t drag you to Vancouver. Port Hardy will be fine, thank you.”
They moved to the master stateroom and Dan sat and watched as Claire sorted through her clothes. Like everything else she did, she was quietly efficient, quickly discarding anything she didn’t think would be necessary. She was almost finished when Dan’s cellphone rang.
“Claire left yet?” It was Markleson, his boss, whose unmistakeable voice rasped liked crushed gravel. Although the man swore almost daily he was going to quit smoking and get in shape, he had never succeeded in doing either. Instead he seemed to gain weight and smoke more every year.
“Her plane leaves Port Hardy early in the morning. Why? What’s up?” Dan knew Markleson was fond of Claire, but he wasn’t the kind to call simply to say good-bye.
“I’ve got a job for you. Come in and see me first thing.” Markleson ended the call before Dan could answer.
“Right. Aye-aye sir,” Dan said as he stared at the now silent phone he held in his hand. When he wasn’t out on the water investigating a case, he spent his time working out of the local RCMP station. Markleson, who as North Island Commander had his office there, was well aware that Dan would be at his desk in the morning just as he was every morning when he was in town, so why had he gone to the trouble of calling?
“Problems?” Claire asked.
“Maybe,” he answered. “Something’s bothering Markleson and that usually means he’s got some unpleasant job he wants me to do.”
“Well at least if you’re on a job you won’t have time to worry about me,” she said. “And that’s a good thing.”
He laughed. “I’ll worry about you anyway, but yes, it’s probably better that I have something to keep me occupied. I just hope it doesn’t mean heading up north. You might be heading into summer down-under, but it’s already well into fall here and the winds up in those channels make for some very uncomfortable seas.”
She snapped the lid of her suitcase closed and put her arms around him. “So it sounds like it’s me who should be worried about you, not the other way round.” He pulled her into a bear-hug. “No,” he said. “We’ll both be fine.”