Against the Wild (30 page)

Alex swallowed a big bite of pie. “There's been a lot of stuff written about him. Mostly in the newspapers. At first it was all good, but it turns out Carmack was a real crook. Scammed a lot of folks in San Francisco out of their money.”

“He wound up alone and destitute,” Jared added, “living in absolute poverty. He didn't have a friend left in the world.”

Winnie made a scoffing sound. “After what he did, it serves him right.” They all knew the story now, how the original owner of the lodge had murdered his wife and daughter, then had two innocent men hanged to cover it up.

“You gonna write about it?” Caleb asked.

“We're working on a paper about Carmack,” Jared said, digging into his pie. “We might even get someone to publish it.”

“Good for you,” Winnie said.

“So what about the guy who's been out there watching the lodge?” Alex asked. “Is he still there?”

“We think so. We think he followed Lane up here. He's got some kind of thing for her.”

“Is there something we can do to help you catch him?”

Caleb glanced over at Winnie. He hadn't been able to reach Paddy so he was the only man there. “I appreciate the offer, but it looks like this guy could be really dangerous. He's former Special Forces. We're hoping the police will come out tomorrow. In the meantime, we're all staying close to the house.”

“What about tonight?” Jared asked. “Alex's got his deer rifle in the truck. We could take shifts.”

It wasn't a bad idea. The boys were no longer teens, and in this country, kids all knew how to handle a weapon. After what Dylan had told him, he'd been planning to stay up all night, but it wouldn't be easy. Having some help would give him a chance to get a little sleep, which would keep him more alert.

“All right. It'd be great if you stayed. Dylan had engine trouble and had to make a forced landing up at Moose Lake. He and Lane are walking out tomorrow, but that still leaves tonight.”

“We'll stay.”

“Okay, then. I'll take the first three hours. You boys take the second. Whatever happens, I don't want you going outside. Wake me up if you see anyone out there, or he tries to get into the house.”

“We can do that.”

“Go get your rifle, and I'll get mine. Hopefully we won't need them, but we don't know what this creep might do. It's better to be safe than sorry.”

They all went out the back door and returned with their weapons. Alex carried a .30-30 deer rifle, and Caleb held the .308 Savage he'd been using for years.

“When it's your shift, check all the windows and doors, make sure they're locked.” He cast them a meaningful glance. “I'm sure you'll know how to handle that.”

Both of them grinned.

“I'll go first,” Caleb said. “In the meantime, I'll show you where you can sleep. I'll wake you up in three hours.”

“Sounds good.”

Caleb took the boys upstairs to the empty bedroom in the family wing they would be sharing. Once they were settled, he made a tour of the house.

The doors were all tightly secured. A couple of windows had been opened to let in the breeze, but he locked them down tight. Winnie had gone to her room; Emily was asleep. It was dark and quiet outside, nothing but the whisper of the wind through the trees.

The best vantage point was Dylan's bedroom. After completing his rounds, Caleb settled himself in a chair at the window, his rifle propped against the wall at his side.

He was grateful the boys were there to help.

It was going to be a damned long night.

Moving silently away from the house, Kyle made his way into the forest. Behind him, the lights of the lodge were going out one by one, but he knew they were still watching.

Moose Lake.
He'd heard them talking about the plane, knew Brodie would be spending the night up there, walking out tomorrow. Kyle planned to head for the lake at first light.

He knew where it was. He'd seen it on one of the National Geodetic Survey maps he'd picked up in L.A. He'd studied the map of Eagle Bay and the surrounding landscape. From the start, he'd used it to find his way around.

When the plane hadn't returned by dark, he'd seized the opportunity and headed for the lodge. The big Indian was there with the woman and the child, but all of the workers had left for the weekend.

His mouth edged up. Reaching into the pocket of his camo pants, he pulled out a bright russet silk scarf, the color of Lane's fiery hair. He had taken the scarf from the dresser in her bedroom while the others were eating supper.

In her bathroom, he'd inhaled the floral scent of her shampoo, the soft fragrance of her perfume. It made him hard just thinking about having her.

He clenched his jaw. It reminded him that she had been sleeping with Brodie instead of him.

His hand tightened into a fist as he walked softly through the forest toward the cabin he had been using.

It isn't her fault
, the voice reminded him. Kyle swore softly, knowing the voice was right. If he hadn't been stupid, hadn't lost his temper and let himself be goaded into a fight, Lane would be with him. He just needed to spend some time with her.

It's too late for that
, the voice disagreed.
You've already lost her. Get over her. Get on with your life.

“You're wrong. We were perfect for each other. Lane will realize that once we're together again.”

He held the scarf beneath his nose. Brodie was the problem. He had to get Brodie out of the picture.

And the solution had magically come to him.

At first light, he was heading up to Moose Lake. If his luck held, he'd encounter Lane and Brodie at the halfway point as they made their way down to the lodge.

He remembered seeing a stream flowing out of the lake that ran into the bay. He'd take a look at the map again, figure the best way down the mountain, the route the pair would most likely travel, but he figured they would follow the stream.

Too bad Brodie was going to have a terrible accident along the way.

 

 

In the morning, Dylan took down the tent, packed up the gear they wouldn't need as they traveled down the mountain, and stashed it aboard the plane. Though he and Lane had made love and she had slept curled against him, he hadn't slept the way he usually did outdoors.

He was too worried about Whitaker and what might be happening at the lodge.

Dylan picked up his .44, slid it into the holster, and buckled the belt around his waist. Grabbing a couple of energy bars, he stuffed them into his backpack along with a few bottles of water.

For breakfast, they'd eaten MREs—Meals Ready to Eat, prepackaged food he had stocked up on at a sporting goods store and kept in his emergency gear bag.

Sausage gravy and biscuits. Maple oatmeal. Packages of raisins and nuts. He'd made boiled coffee and even found some powdered creamer for Lane. Last night they'd opened a package of pasta with marinara sauce for a side with the five-pound lake trout he'd caught and fried for supper.

Even though he'd been worried about Whitaker, the brief time outdoors had been fun. He hoped Lane had enjoyed it half as much as he had.

He glanced up at the leaden sky overhead. It hadn't rained last night, but dull gray clouds had rolled in off the sea, making the day overcast and grim.

Dylan glanced toward the forest in search of Lane. She had stepped into the trees for a morning bathroom break, but he had warned her not to go too far away. Figuring he had given her enough time and beginning to worry, he started after her.

Up ahead, through the dense growth of pines, he spotted her in his blue flannel shirt, a spare he kept in his gear bag and had loaned her, since they had left the lodge in such a hurry she hadn't brought a change of clothes. Lane had tied the shirt up around her waist, but it still hung like a sack off her shoulders.

Dylan started to smile as he walked toward her. She was watching something in front of her as she slowly backed away. When she raised her arms and started shouting, his adrenaline kicked in and he started to run, pulling his revolver as he raced up the hill.

He stopped when he saw her, standing in front of a black bear, a big one, its small eyes fixed on Lane as if it had just found its next meal.

“Get out of here!” she shouted, backing slowly away. “Leave me alone!” As Dylan moved quietly toward her, she reached down and picked up a heavy stick, swung it a couple of times at the bear, doing exactly what he'd told her. “I said get away!”

Dylan was almost there when the bear went up on its hind legs and let out a nerve-chilling roar. Then it turned and lumbered back into the forest, disappearing out of sight.

Quickly holstering his weapon, he ran on up the hill. “I'm right behind you, honey. He's gone. You're okay.”

Lane just stood there, her stick still raised, her legs shaking.

“It's okay, baby, I promise.”

She turned toward the sound of his voice. “Did you . . . did you see it?”

He couldn't stop a smile. “I sure did.” He reached her, pulled her into his arms, took the stick, and tossed it away. “You were great, baby. I think that ol' bear was more afraid of you than you were of him.”

She looked up at him, big green eyes wider than he'd ever seen them. “It was . . . it was amazing. He was so beautiful.”

Of all the things he had expected her to say, that wasn't one of them.
Not as beautiful as you
, he thought. Even in her dirty jeans and a shirt three sizes too big, she was the sexiest woman he had ever seen.

“That was a black bear, right? Not a grizzly?”

He nodded. “Black bear. Big. At least five hundred pounds.” As the adrenaline began to wear off, she started shaking all over, and he tightened his hold around her.

“You handled it just right,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Unless you're hunting for food, shooting an animal should be a last resort. I'm proud of you.”

She looked up at him, her cheeks pink and her eyes gleaming. “I'm glad I got to see him, but I don't want to see another one anytime soon.”

Dylan laughed. “I don't blame you.” With her arm in his, he led her back down to their makeshift camp to finish collecting their gear.

“There isn't much of a trail,” he said. “Just an overgrown path along the creek. Anyone who comes up to fish usually flies in for the day.”

“You said it was only five miles back to the lodge. On a good day, I can do ten on my treadmill. Of course this won't be flat and I won't be watching TV while I'm walking.”

He smiled. “The scenery will be better.”

Lane took a last glance out at the water. “It looks like a postcard.” As if he had scripted it, a big bald eagle soared out over the lake, completing the picture.

“Look! An eagle. Oh, I wish I had my canvas and paints.”

He followed her gaze, watching the bird spiral higher and higher, almost said he would bring her back one day so she could paint it. But there wouldn't be time for that.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulders, he slid his arms into the straps. “You ready?”

Lane smiled. “Are you kidding? I just faced down a bear. I can do anything.”

Dylan reached down and cupped her face, bent his head, and kissed her. He tried not to think how much he was going to miss her when she was gone.

 

 

Caleb yawned. It was still early, but Winnie had been up since dawn and had gotten everyone fed. Alex and Jared were ready to head back to Yeil.

“I really appreciate your help,” Caleb said as he walked them out to their pickup, a battered old Ford.

“Call us if Mr. Brodie doesn't get back and you need us again tonight,” Alex said.

“I think after the way you pitched in, he'd want you to call him Dylan. With any luck, he'll be back this afternoon. But I've got your cell numbers. I'll call if he doesn't show up before dark.”

“Tell Mrs. Henry she makes the best breakfast around,” Jared said.

“I'll tell her.” Caleb watched as Alex loaded his hunting rifle behind the seat and got into the truck. The engine rumbled to life and they headed up the gravel road back to Yeil. Dylan would be pleased to hear how the boys had volunteered to help keep everyone safe.

It was the weekend. With work on the lodge progressing so well, the crew was off for the next two days. Caleb had finally reached Paddy O'Ryan, filled him in, and asked him to come over. With Whitaker out there and Dylan still missing, he liked having a capable man like Paddy around.

He was headed back to the house when his phone started ringing. Caleb recognized Jenny's number, and a warm feeling expanded in his chest.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Caleb. I just called to make sure you're okay.”

He felt better just hearing her voice. “I'm all right. They searched my cabin, towed my truck off to search for evidence. There's nothing to find so I'm not worried about that.”

“Would it be okay if . . . if I drove out to see you?”

It surprised him how much he wanted that. “I'd love to see you, honey, but . . . there's a problem. There's a guy. He may be the one who killed Holly. He's been out here watching the lodge. Until we figure a way to catch him, it isn't safe for you to come out.”

“Oh, Caleb! Now I'm even more worried.”

“I'm a little worried myself. We're hoping the police will be able to help. They should be out sometime today.”

“Will you call me, Caleb? I need to know you're safe.”

His heart squeezed. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had really cared about him. It sure as hell hadn't been Holly.

“I'll call you, honey. I promise.” Caleb hung up the phone. At the sound of a vehicle coming up the road, he turned and looked in that direction. A dark brown rental car pulled into the parking area and the engine went still.

The door cracked open and a familiar tall man with black hair and a lean, powerful build got out, hauled a duffel out of the backseat, settled it on a broad shoulder, and started walking toward him.

He had the same blue eyes and hard jaw as his brother, but his features were less rugged and he was even better-looking.

Caleb felt a rush of relief as Nick Brodie strode toward the lodge.

 

 

Nick set the duffel he was carrying down at his feet. “Hey, Caleb.”

“Hey, Nick. Man, I'm glad to see you.”

Nick shook Caleb's hand. “What's up? Besides the fact you're smack in the middle of a murder investigation.”

“Yeah, and the murderer might be camping on our doorstep.”

Nick frowned. He had told himself his brother didn't need him, that the cops would eventually get everything straightened out, but the bad feeling he'd been having wouldn't go away.

He glanced toward the house. “Is my brother around?”

Caleb looked past him toward the forests behind the lodge. “Last night, Dylan had engine trouble on his way back from town. He set down in Moose Lake. He and Lane spent the night up there. They're hiking down the mountain today, probably on their way back by now.”

Nick felt a sliver of uneasiness. According to Dylan, Kyle Whitaker had come to Alaska because of Lane. He was obsessed with her. According to Dylan, he had stabbed Lane's dog, probably to keep from being tracked. The guy was Delta. He was dangerous. He wanted Lane Bishop and Dylan was the only man standing in his way.

“How'd you get here?” Caleb asked.

“Flew Anchorage to Juneau last night. Since there wasn't an early commercial flight from there to Waterside, I flew private this morning. I had a rental car waiting, and here I am.”

“Come on in. There's coffee in the kitchen. If you're hungry, you can probably get Winnie to fix you something to eat.”

Nick looked off toward the mountains. “Listen, Caleb, I'm going to take a look around, see what I can find. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

“Want me to go with you?”

Nick shook his head. “You go on in.” He liked to work alone, at least at first, get into the perpetrator's head. If this guy was a killer, he might have left something behind. Hell, there was a good chance he was still out there.

Reaching down, he unzipped the duffel, took out his Glock 21, .45 caliber, and clipped the holster to his belt.

“Where's Emily?”

“She's in the house with Winnie.”

“Good. Keep them there. Anyone else around?”

“Paddy O'Ryan's on his way, but he isn't here yet.”

Nick nodded. “Like I said, I'll be back in awhile.”

“I'll take your bag, put it in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs. Be careful.”

Nick smiled darkly. If he wasn't a careful man, he'd have been dead long before now.

Nick surveyed the area outside the lodge, the mountains and the forests surrounding it. He'd been there before, spent two weeks with Dylan when he'd first bought the place.

There was an old cemetery up on the hill, he recalled. Be a good place for surveillance. Another hill rose to the south, above a trail that led to a stream coming down out of the mountains.

Nick checked the trail first, easier access, less chance of being spotted. It didn't take him long to find the place in the grass where someone had been lying, but it didn't look like it had been used lately.

He headed up the hill toward the cemetery. It took a while, but he finally found a track, hard as hell to spot. He figured the guy had blurred the print with a rag or maybe just leaves or grass.