The main street of Canmore was busy with Saturday visitors. Willow drove slowly, while the rest of us searched for any sign of a Virginia license plate.
“I’ll circle around. Let’s see if we can spot them in one of the hotel parking lots,” she said.
“That could take hours,” Robyn said. “We don’t have that much time. It’s already past two o’clock.”
“I know,” Willow said tensely.
“You know,” I began, “that email to Neil said they needed the information in two weeks. That time frame is nearly up.”
“Hmmm.” Robyn frowned in thought. “When we ran into Phil, he mentioned that hunting season starts in a few weeks. Funny that the times are almost the same.”
“Poachers wouldn’t care about the hunting season. They’re breaking the law anyway,” Nick pointed out.
Willow drove along a road lined with condos. “Probably wildlife officers are patrolling more when the hunters are out. Maybe the poachers want the locations of the bears, so they can kill them before hunting season is in full swing,” said Willow.
“They’re running out of time,” Robyn observed.
“Stop!” I yelled.
Willow hit the brakes. “What?” she shouted. “What’s wrong?”
“Turn around. I think I saw one of the cars we’re looking for.”
“Oh.” Willow exhaled. “Trevor, next time, just tell me, okay?” She pulled into a driveway, reversed and crept along the street.
“There!” I pointed to a black SUV in the parking lot of a posh-looking resort. The license plate was a different color than Alberta plates, but I couldn’t read it from so far away. Willow drove into the lot. As we got closer, Robyn groaned.
“Trevor, that license plate is from Montana!” she said.
“Well, it looked a bit like the ones I saw before. And the SUV is definitely the right kind,” I grumbled.
“This place looks too swanky. I think our guys would probably stay somewhere more low-key,” Willow said. She guided the car farther down the street, to an area with smaller hotels and hunting lodges.
I saw three vehicles with Virginia license plates. There were two SUVs and one van, parked side by side in front of a hotel.
“Look,” I said in excitement. “Those are the cars I saw before.”
Willow parked a safe distance away. “Okay, we need a plan,” she said. “For all we know, these people could just be tourists. Any ideas?”
“Let’s check out the cars first,” Nick said. “Maybe we’ll find some evidence.”
“You’re not going to break in!” Willow looked shocked.
“Of course not,” Nick scoffed. “We’ll just look in the windows.”
Robyn and I exchanged glances. “And then I say we talk to the hotel clerks,” I said. “See if they know anything about these people.”
“Let’s go.” Robyn unbuckled her seatbelt.
Willow hung back as the three of us approached the SUVs. The tinted windows made it difficult to see inside, but Robyn gave a cry. “Look!” she said in excitement. “There’s a bunch of camouflage stuff back here. Jackets, I think. And hiking boots, all covered in mud.”
Nick peered through the passenger window. “There are maps spread out on the seat,” he said. “But I can’t tell what the area is.” He leaned on the door and pressed his face to the glass.
A sudden shrill blast cut through the air. The three of us leaped backward. Robyn and I collided in midair, landing with a thump on the pavement.
“It’s the car alarm!” Robyn shrieked above the noise. “Run!”
The four of us scattered. Wi l low leaped back into her car, shoved a pair of sunglasses on her face and pretended to read a magazine. Nick dashed toward the garbage cans at the back of the hotel. I yanked Robyn to her feet and ran toward the closest hiding place I could see—a large potted evergreen tree beside the hotel’s front entrance. Robyn dived behind it, but before I could join her, a burly man in khaki pants came racing out. He shot me a suspicious look and aimed a remote at the bleeping car. The noise died.
The man looked me up and down.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t mess with my car, kid,” he growled.
“N-no, sir,” I squeaked.
He turned on his heel and strode back into the hotel. I collapsed against the potted evergreen. Robyn poked her head above the concrete pot.
“That was close,” she whispered.
“Close?” I repeated, my heart still hammering in my chest. “What do you mean, close? I got caught.”
“Not really. He didn’t catch you at the car. He just suspects you were there.” Robyn stood up and brushed herself off. “Let’s go inside. Maybe we can find out some more about these guys.”
My insides quaked. That guy would surely wonder what I was up to if he saw me sneaking around the lobby. We strolled through the front door, looking around. To my intense relief, there were only a few customers checking in. Robyn and I meandered over to a stone fireplace where there were a few armchairs. I noticed a tall table that seemed to be for a book bound with a navy blue cover. The word Guests was embossed on the book in gold lettering.
I pretended to be interested in a painting of a duck hanging over the mantle. “See anything yet?” I said out of the corner of my mouth.
“No.” Robyn’s gaze darted around the room. The minutes passed.
“We can’t just stand here. Maybe we should check the guest log,” I said, eyeing the nearby book.
“Trevor, get real. As if criminals are going to write their actual names and addresses in a hotel guest book,” Robyn scoffed.
“It’s better than nothing,” I retorted. “I haven’t noticed you coming up with any brilliant ideas.” I opened the book, flipping the pages to the most recent entries. Robyn leaned over the book as I ran my finger down each entry. We’d gone back nearly a week without finding anyone from Virginia, when I felt a sharp tap on my shoulder. I turned with a yelp of surprise, expecting to see the guy with the car alarm.
Instead, a uniformed guy with a pimply face eyed me with suspicion. “Can I help you kids?”
“Uh, um…no,” I stammered. “That is… we were just—”
“Yes,” Robyn broke in. “You can. We’re looking for my uncle.”
“Your uncle?” The guy’s gaze narrowed.
“Yes. My uncle.” Robyn faced him squarely. “He’s up visiting from Virginia. My mother wants to invite him to dinner tomorrow night, but we haven’t been able to reach him.”
I stared at her, amazed. I started to speak, but she stopped me by stepping squarely on my toe.
“Have you tried calling his room?” the young man asked.
“Of course,” Robyn said. “But there’s been no answer.”
“That’s funny. I’m sure I saw the Virginia group not long ago. Maybe they’re in the restaurant. They were definitely here today. I helped them plan a kayak trip for tomorrow. They asked for boxed lunches from the kitchen.” The young man relaxed a bit. He must have believed Robyn’s story.
“Oh,” Robyn said. “I wonder if they’ll be back in time for my uncle to make it to supper.”
The clerk shrugged. “I can’t say. The route they talked about would take at least five hours.” He took a leaflet from a stack on the mantle. He unfolded it and traced his finger along a mountain lake. “You see this river here? They had planned to travel downstream to the lake. They’ll have to stop after that, because the rapids are pretty intense in the next section of river. Only an experienced kayaker could handle it.” He handed the pamphlet to Robyn.
“These guys aren’t experienced?” I asked.
“No, I don’t think so. They don’t have their own gear.” He looked at me narrowly. “Shouldn’t you know that?”
The ding of the elevator distracted the clerk, saving me from having to answer. Four men stepped out of the elevator, laces from hiking boots still flapping, and headed for the front door. Three of them were strangers. But I knew the fourth. It was the guy with the car alarm. I swallowed and tried to melt into the scenery.
The clerk gave us a pleased grin as he motioned for the men to join us. “You’re in luck. Here’s your uncle’s group now!”