Black Tide Rising (11 page)

Dan glanced across at him. “You're not still thinking about asking these kids to head out there, are you? They'd have to be crazy! It's impossible.”

“Might be for your lot. Mine might be thinking differently.”

Dan didn't bother answering. There was nothing he could say, and he didn't think it would be an issue anyway. There was no way anyone was going to get across to the other side of the inlet, let alone hike through the bush to the trail.

—

Half an hour later, Walker leaned forward and pointed through the window to where the square shapes of buildings were starting to emerge from the gloom. “Pull in to that second wharf. The small one,” he shouted, fighting to make himself heard over the sounds of the storm.

Both men had been silent as Dan fought to make headway against the wind and the waves, and Walker's voice seemed to reverberate through the wheelhouse.

The tiny community of Esperanza slowly appeared through the sweeping curtains of rain. It was an odd collection of both very new and very old houses, scattered haphazardly across a flat outcropping of land that protruded from the base of a massive rock face. A large lodge with a glass front sat right on the water near the head of a high wharf, but farther away, on the other side of the point, Dan could glimpse smaller houses and another, lower wharf jutting out into the water. That was where Walker was pointing.

“Might not have enough depth over there,” Dan shouted. “I'm going to have to go past and drift down on it. No way I can come in from this side.”

“What does she draw?” Walker asked, nodding down toward the deck.

“Fifteen feet,” Dan answered. “And the tide's falling.”

“Might be a problem,” Walker agreed. “Better use this first one then. I know the water's deep there. The guys will be watching for us anyway. They'll figure it out.”

They were both quiet as Dan battled the weather in order to make a wide circle upwind of the wharf.
Dreamspeaker
heeled and wallowed as he turned her broadside to the wind, but then the motion eased as he nosed her behind the point, coming dangerously close to the shore before swinging her bow back out. If he had to leave for any reason, he wanted to make it as easy as possible. He briefly put her into reverse to stop her forward motion, and then the wind caught her again and pushed her sideways onto the wharf. Dan shrugged into his rain gear, went out on deck, led out some extra lines both fore and aft, and then started to climb over the railing. A voice stopped him.

“Need a hand?”

Three men were standing below him. He hadn't seen any of them approach. Two were Native, and the third, who stood a little apart, was white—almost as white as Jens, his pale hair just visible above his pale face, which was framed by the hood of his rain jacket. It was one of the Native men who had spoken.

“Thanks,” Dan answered. “Maybe tie those lines straight across. I'm going to set up some springs to keep her off.”

The man nodded and wrapped the forward line around a cleat, gesturing for his partner to do the same with the stern line. “You got a passenger with you?” he asked.

Dan nodded. “That would be Walker. You want to come on board? He's up in the wheelhouse.”

Dan walked back to the stern and opened the gate, standing aside as the two men climbed the ladder onto the deck.

“Sam.” The older of the two held out his hand in greeting. “This is Jared.”

“Welcome aboard. Why don't you go on forward while I get the spring lines rigged. I think Walker's waiting for you.”

Sam nodded, and the two men started across the deck while Dan climbed down onto the wharf.

“Welcome to Esperanza.” It was the white guy's turn.

“Thanks,” said Dan, extending his hand as he introduced himself.

“Reverend Steven,” the man replied. “Are you a friend of Sam's?”

“Never met him before. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. It's just that he doesn't often come over here. Certainly not to greet people.”

“He doesn't live here?”

“Not really. He and Jared have a camp somewhere back in the woods. We see them occasionally, of course—they sometimes use the wharf—but they keep pretty much to themselves.”

“Huh,” said Dan. “So these houses here are all private?”

“They all belong to Esperanza Ministries. We use them in the service of the Lord.”

“Ministries?” Dan asked. “For some reason I thought this was a hospital.”

Reverend Steven smiled, although it was more like a grimace as his thin lips stretched back across his gaunt face. “There used to be a hospital. The Esperanza Mission Hospital. Dr. McLean started it back in 1937, but it closed many years ago. Now we offer counseling and crisis intervention, and in summer we run youth camps.” The information was given in a curiously singsong tone, as if it was something learned by rote. There was a pause, and then the man turned away and gestured toward the jumbled community. “It's a place where people can learn about the Creator.”

“And you're the director?” Dan asked. There was something about the reverend that bothered him. The man seemed too uptight and formal to be the director of a remote mission that offered counseling and youth camps.

“No, not at all. I'm only here in a temporary capacity. The director—you'll meet him if you stay for a few days—was called away on a medical emergency.”

Dan nodded. That made sense. “So Sam and Jared run one of the camps?”

“Oh no. No. They're not associated with us in any way.” The answer came almost too fast, and Dan thought there was a definite note of disapproval there.

Reverend Steven quickly changed the subject. “Are you planning on staying long?”

“I'm not sure,” Dan answered. “Am I okay here for a couple of days?”

“Of course. We always welcome visitors. Will any of Jared's people be joining you?”

Again Dan thought he caught a hint of—was it disapproval or just concern?

“Maybe, although probably not—or at least not for long.”

“I see. Well then, I will leave you to your guests. You're welcome to come up to the lodge later on. We gather there after our evening meal. We have some musicians among us who like to share their gifts in celebration of the Lord.”

“Thanks,” Dan said. “I appreciate the offer.”

—

Walker had moved to the cabin, and he and his friends were sitting around the table. All of them turned to look at Dan as he stepped inside and took off his rain gear.

“The Reverend Steven stay ashore?” Sam asked. His gray hair was pulled back and tied with a wide leather thong, and he wore a buckskin vest over a heavy denim shirt and faded blue jeans. Dan guessed he was in his late sixties, but he could have been older. He spoke with a soft voice and the slurred, glottal sounds that suggested he was more at home speaking his traditional language.

“Yeah,” Dan answered. “He invited me up to the lodge after dinner to celebrate the Lord and praise the Creator. I'm sure you would be welcome too.”

“The Reverend Steven and I have different Creators,” Sam answered, smiling to take the sting out of his words. “We honor them in different ways.”

“Odd kind of guy for a missionary,” Dan said. “Seemed to be wound pretty tight.”

“He only likes tame Indians.” Jared spoke for the first time, and there was no mistaking the hostility. “Gotta worship at the white man's shrine.”

Dan looked at him, taking in the scars on both his neck and hands, and the tattooed knuckles. He didn't think Jared was much older than Walker, but he looked like he had spent some hard time in a hard place.

“Sounds like you don't like the man very much.”

Jared shrugged. “I guess he's doing his job. Be better when the other guys get back.”

Sam and Walker both nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Sanford told me Earl and his people do some great work here,” Walker said. He looked at Dan. “Earl's the guy that runs this place.” He smiled. “You tell the Reverend Steven you're a cop?”

Dan shrugged. “Nope. Didn't think he needed to know—and I don't know that I can really say I'm back on the force anyway. Don't have a badge. Don't have anything but a phone number I can call. Why?”

“Sam here was telling me that ol' Steven heard the call of his Creator while he was serving time for beating up a couple of kids. Native kids, as it happens. Guess the parole board liked the fact that he had seen the light and let him out early.”

Dan looked at the three faces across from him. Three pairs of black eyes looked back at him, expressionless, waiting to see what his reaction would be. He looked out at the wharf, empty and rain swept. What Walker had told him fit with his impression of the man he had just met. He had felt there was something not quite right with the Reverend Steven. “Do they have kids here?” he asked.

“Not at this time of year. They will later, when the camps start up,” Sam said.

“Earl know about this?”

“No way. Earl wouldn't have let him off the boat if he'd known his history. Earl had to leave in a hurry, so he just took whomever the home office sent to him. We'll have a chat with him when he gets back. Ask him to phone and check the reverend out.”

Dan nodded. “When did he get here?”

“Four days ago,” Sam answered. “They sent the mission boat down to Gold River to pick him up.”

“Huh.” Dan glanced across at Walker. The timing meant the reverend couldn't have been at Friendly Cove, but that didn't mean he couldn't have been involved in some way.

“I just might phone and check him out myself. There seems to be way too many bad guys up here right now.” He stood up. “And I need to make a few calls anyway. I'll be up in the wheelhouse if you need me. Help yourselves to coffee, and I think there's still some juice in the fridge.”

The staff sergeant who answered the phone said Gary Markleson was out. Dan left a message to say he had called and would call back later. Next on his list was Mike, who for once was in.

“So exactly how official am I?” Dan asked him. “Do I have a badge number, or is this just you trying to get me to work for free?”

Mike laughed. “Well, I would have if I could have, but I know you too well to try that. No, this is official. You have the same badge number as before. It's just been reactivated. They're gonna courier it up to Markleson—he might already have it by now—and he'll send it out to you with one of his guys.”

“Hmm. So who would I call to find out more about the robbery they were looking at those two guys for? The two they picked up in Tahsis.”

“That would be downtown Victoria. Guy named Hathaway. You thinking they might be good for the kid?”

“Nope. I'm thinking about the totem.”

“The totem?” Mike's voice conveyed both surprise and confusion. “What totem?”

“The old totem at Yuquot. Someone hacked it to pieces the same night the woman went missing and the kid was killed. I've been trying to figure out how it's connected.”

“Hell, maybe it isn't connected,” Mike replied. “Might just have been some tourist with a hard-on.”

“Don't think so. And there weren't any tourists. Place was empty except for the people on the lighthouse.”

“Huh. Well, give Hathaway a call. He'll be able to fill you in.”

“I'll do that,” Dan replied. “And you can check out the Reverend Steven for me.”

“Who the hell is the Reverend Steven?” Mike asked. “And how do you find these people? Who was it last year? Annie and Toothless Tom were their names, as I recall.”

Dan laughed. “Yeah. Good folks those—at least, Annie is. Tom's crazy as a loon, but he's harmless. I'm not sure I can say the same about the Reverend Steven though.”

“Okay, I'll check him out for you and let you know as soon as I find out anything,” Mike said, then ended the call.

Dan's third call was to Claire. He listened to the phone ringing and was about to hang up when she finally answered.

“Dan! You almost missed me. I'm just heading off to yet another meeting. I think this must be about the tenth one with the same department! Just different people. Where are you?”

Dan leaned back in his chair, enjoying the sound of her voice as he looked at the rivulets of rain coursing down the windshield. “Esperanza,” he answered.

“Esperanza? Is there anything there? I thought the old hospital closed down.”

“It did,” he replied. “It's some kind of mission now. They give counseling sessions and put on youth camps and stuff.”

Claire laughed. “Are you in need of a counseling session? I'll be up there in a few days, and I'm pretty good at pillow talk.”

Dan smiled, feeling a surge of warmth run through his veins. “Yes, you are, and you're very good at a lot of other things too—although a few more days is a long time to wait. I may need more than just pillow talk to calm me down.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. “Ummm. I think I know of something that might help.”

“Really? I wonder what that could be.”

They discussed some therapeutic possibilities and variations for a while and then got back to Claire's arrival in Kyuquot.

“Your meetings going okay?” Dan asked.

“Yes. Better than I expected, even though there are an awful lot of them. But that's government bureaucracy, and I should be used to it by now. There's no way around it. And I've got the seaworthiness approval on the boat. I'll be picking up the certificate the day after tomorrow. After that it's just the sign-off and I'll be on the road.”

“So no holdups?”

“Can't see any, unless it's the weather. I heard there's a storm out there. Is it really bad?” she asked. “Are you safe in Esperanza?”

“Sure. I'm actually just sitting here at the wharf with Walker, waiting it out.”