EDGE (9 page)

Everything’s fine. It’s just Nicole. Having her here is dredging up the past.

If someone had been there, no trace could be seen with the wind smacking against the mountains, forcing the tall grasses to lie down on the earth.

Shivering, she shut the window and grabbed a robe. Leaving her room, she let Rinka outside to do her business. Rinka took off like a shot, the cold not bothering her in the least. Mel took a moment to once again study the mountainside, then searched the deserted beach. She felt spooked, but there wasn’t anything out of the norm that she could see. She tried to shake it off and headed for the shower.

Dressed, though still rattled, Mel entered the great room and started a fire in the large fireplace.

So much for being the middle of June. It was as cold as the first week in September. There would be complaining today. Days like this always went over better when the guests had more time to see and experience the beauty of Alaska before the weather turned ornery and socked them indoors.

Linnet joined Mel, dressed in a sweater and jeans this morning rather than one of her sexy sun dresses, her hands reaching out to the small flickering flames. “It’s a day to break out the Parcheesi.”

Mel nodded. “I sure hope this doesn’t settle in. Have you heard anything on the radio?”

“Nope, old Cliff can’t seem to make up his mind. Last night he said this weather was supposed to blow over. As of this morning, we’ve been instructed to bunker down.”

Nicole showed up huddled in a hoodie. “Just how cold does it get here in the summertime? I let the kids sleep in so they can stay warm.”

“Mother Nature can be a wicked bitch this far north. Why, I’ve seen it snow in July,” Linnet said, a teasing twinkle in her eye. “Let’s get breakfast started. With everyone stuck inside we’ll have to feed them well so they don’t kill each other.”

“How about cinnamon rolls?” Mel asked, her taste buds zinging to life at the thought of freshly baked cinnamon rolls.

“Sure why not.” Linnet rubbed her hands together. “Nothing makes me want to bake like bad weather. Come on, Nicole. Let’s get those ovens warmed up.”

Mel looked out to the cove. Waves crashed at about three feet, which meant the bay would have six or seven foot swells. The tide was pushing the water up under the pilings. She’d have to run the boat and plane farther out on the running line so they didn’t get hammered against the dock by the surf.

Grabbing her rain jacket off the hook, as the clouds opened up, she stepped into her hip waders, and secured her hood. She braced for the blast of cold wind, but the sideways rain still made it through gaps in her rain gear.

Sergei met her at the running line, dressed the same, minus the hood. His dark shoulder-length hair blew in the wind while the rain darkened its depths.

“I knew you vould be vorrying about plane,” Sergei said. He grinned through the rain pelting him in the face. Like Rinka, the cold didn’t seem to faze him. If anything it brought an eager flush to his cheeks and a twinkle to his dark eyes.

“Like you’re not worried about the boat?”

He frowned and pointed down the beach. “Better save the kayaks first.” He sprinted for the five ocean kayaks sitting within reach of the encroaching waves.

What the hell? She’d double checked them last night. All six of them had been secured under the pilings of the deck.

She only counted five now.

Damn it, ocean kayaks didn’t come cheap.

Working as a team, they dragged and lashed the kayaks to the pilings far out of reach of the surf, and then turned their attention to pulling on the skiff line until the plane and boat floated farther out in deeper waters. They bobbed on top of the waves like toys in a jetted bathtub.

“I’ll bring in vood,” Sergei said. “Do you vant more added to the rooms upstairs?”

“Yes, but wait until the guests are up and moving about. I wouldn’t mind having you around to entertain them. Some of your Russian stories would go over well today.”

“Always vith the Russian stories. Just because I am handsome and speak with accent you vant me telling stories.”

“Well…yeah,” Mel said with a smile. Someday she hoped he’d tell her why he no longer lived in Mother Russia. His stories always bent toward intrigue when speaking of his homeland, but he never talked of returning.

Suddenly Sergei jerked and ran back toward the kayaks, which were tumbling in the crashing waves.

They’d just secured them. How…?

There was no time for questions. It was a mad dash to save the kayaks before the greedy tide stole them. Waves tumbled against Mel, leaching salt water in her boots by the time they’d saved the kayaks from being pulled out to sea. Her feet were cold and wet, and it would take days to completely dry out her hip waders. She hated getting the insides of her boots wet.

They dragged the kayaks up the beach again. The rope they’d used to tie them to the pilings lay on the sand sliced through by a knife.

Mel rushed into the kitchen, throwing off her rain jacket. Even with the protective gear, her hair was wet and her bones cold.

How had someone cut loose the kayaks, right under her and Sergei’s nose?

She stopped short when she saw Cache sitting at the kitchen table. She’d done a fair job of avoiding him after the incident in the kitchen yesterday. She wouldn’t get away with that today.

“Morning,” he greeted in a gravely voice that sent shivers of another sort over her skin.

Could he have been the one who—?

Get a grip. There was no way Cache could have cut free the kayaks, dragged them to the surf’s edge, and be sitting here dry and warm in the cabin. It had to be someone else. She could discount the Whitneys because of their age. Whoever had done it would have needed to move fast. Could Tom be malicious enough to cause this kind of mischief because he’d fallen overboard yesterday? He didn’t seem the type to get his hands dirty. Pay someone else, yes. Who would he hire out here to do his dirty work?

Okay, she needed to stop this. Next she’d be blaming young Jonah.

Sergei had promised to take a look around before bringing in the wood. If that didn’t reveal anything, he’d covertly peep into their guest’s rooms and see if he noticed bits of rope, sand, or wet shoes. He actually seemed eager over the prospect of playing spy.

“Good morning,” Mel answered, realizing she’d taken too long to respond.

Linnet handed her a steaming mug with a questioning look. Nicole was at the counter, a mixing bowl in the crook of her arm, wooden spoon holding still in her hand. Mel gratefully cradled her hands around the warm cup. “I hope you slept well,” she said to Cache.

“As a matter of fact, it was one of the best nights I’ve had in months.” He paused. “Are you okay?”

“I’m going to get into some dry clothes. Excuse me.” She set down the mug without taking a sip. Linnet’s worried frown wasn’t lost on her, but it was Cache’s curious stare that she felt boring into her back as she exited the room.

A change of clothes hadn’t improved Mel’s mood.

Breakfast was stuffed French toast, seafood crepes, Canadian bacon, and fresh berries with cream. The menu had grown a bit more sophisticated in the last twenty-four hours. Seemed as though Linnet was happily handing over the meal planning to Nicole.

Mel took a seat at the kitchen table, half-believing the kayak incident had been a prank. It was easier to think of it in those terms rather than how’d she been taking it, tainted with the nightmare that had visited her during the night.

Jedidiah wasn’t on The Edge liberating kayaks. He was six feet under.
“Where the worms crawl in and the worms crawl out and play Peanuckle on your snout.”
The old rhyme helped her put things in prospective.

“Sorry about the weather,” Mel said to Cache, realizing once again she’d been lost in her thoughts. If she weren’t careful there’d be questions.

“I love a good storm as long as I don’t have to be out in it,” Cache said. “It’s like a day off.”

“What about your buddy, Tom?” She hadn’t seen him yet.

“He’s going to go stir crazy.” Cache leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “I’d suggest you only serve decaffeinated coffee. A day cooped up will have him driving everyone nuts.”

“Hear that, Linnet?” Mel asked.

“Got it.” Linnet turned as Sergei came through the door with Rinka at his side. He grabbed a towel that hung on a hook, dried his own hair, and then rubbed Rinka down before he let her into the cabin. Linnet stared at him, the spatula forgotten in her raised hand.

“Linnet, you want to turn that French toast?” Nicole asked, hiding a grin.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Linnet saved the French toast just in time.

Sergei acted as if he had no idea of his effect on Linnet, though he gave her a wide berth. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat next to Mel, giving her a subtle shake of his head to indicate that he hadn’t found any evidence.

“Anything you vant me to focus on today other than the telling of stories?” Sergei asked, blowing on his coffee and sipping.

“Not much to do unless something breaks.” Mel took a cookie from the plate sitting in the middle of the table and dunked it into her cocoa even though she didn’t feel like eating. Better go through the motions. Cache still watched her from across the table. It had been a long time since she’d felt like a bug under glass. The feeling made her want to hop in her plane and take off, but more than the weather kept her grounded.

The door swung open and Ramsey stormed in, both him and Kuspuck soaking wet. “Mother Nature is cranky today,” he said, water beading on his chest-length beard.

“Dry that dog off or send him right back outside,” Linnet hollered, pointing to the door with her spatula.

“Hold your horses, woman. Give a man the chance to take off his gear.” Ramsey grabbed the same wet towel Sergei had used on Rinka. It helped somewhat to dry Kuspuck but didn’t stop the dog from shaking his wet coat dry himself.

Linnet swore and went after Ramsey with the spatula. Before she could slap him with it, Ramsey grabbed it. Nose to nose, he said, “Push me today, Linnie, I might just push back.”

Linnet backed down, which surprised Mel almost as much as Ramsey’s use of “Linnie” instead of Linnet.

Nicole had saved the food from getting sprayed by Kuspuck, who had crawled under the table and was snuggled up to Rinka. With both dogs under the table, it was getting crowded for feet. Linnet turned away from Ramsey and began serving up breakfast. She set one plate each in front of Cache and Sergei, both piled high.

“I suppose you want to be fed too?” Linnet gave Ramsey a disgruntled look, the kind you give an unwanted guest who never left.

“Damn right, woman.” Ramsey pulled up a chair. “Bring it on. I’m froze to the bone and half starved.”

“Things all right down at your place, Ramsey?” Mel asked. He seemed worse for the wear, which was saying something because he always looked that way. Today the lines in his face were deeper, his mussed clothes, mustier. The thought of him messing with her kayaks was laughable, so she didn’t bother to entertain it.

“That gale blew a portion of my roof off last night.” Ramsey dug into the stack of French toast Nicole set in front of him.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Ramsey nodded in Nicole’s direction. “I like this new gal you’ve got helping out. She’s a might purty on the eyes.”