The Dead Season (10 page)

“Do you know how much I hate you right now?”

He chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t ask how it’s going, then.”

I noticed that the quality of the video wasn’t quite what it had been the last time we’d talked, but I didn’t know whether that was due to my altitude or the international transmission. I said, “Promise me you’ll never send Melanie to boot camp.”

There was a stutter of broken pixels, and all I caught was something about a tattoo. Then the video caught up with the audio and he added, “Sorry to hear it’s not as much fun as you thought it would be. I can’t imagine why.”

“I almost got fired twice today. Somebody put a bottle of bourbon in Cisco’s backpack. One of the juvies called me a bitch and threatened to cut me. My boss’s wife hates me. My boss hates me. Every muscle in my body aches. Even my fingernails are cold.”

He took a sip of his drink. “I had lobster for dinner.”

“I’m going to hang up.”

“Did I ever tell you about my condo in St. Bart’s? It’s got a hot tub
and
a sauna
.”

“Right now I’d settle for a hot bath.”

“No offense, hon, but you do look a little like something from
The Blair Witch Project
.”

I stuck out my tongue out my tongue at him and he said, “Now I’m really scared.”

“You should be.” I shivered against another blast of wind. Then I lowered my voice a little, frowning with uncertainty, and I added, “Miles, I’m no child psychiatrist, and I never even
heard
of wilderness outreach therapy until the day before yesterday, but I’m not all that wild about the way this program is run. I mean, if I treated my clients’ dogs this way, I’d be out of business in a month.”

The silence that followed might have been a product of the international connection, but there was no mistaking the somberness of his expression. “Listen,” he said, “I know you hate it when I interfere.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “I do.” After a little over three month’s acquaintance, the one thing I knew for sure was that Miles and I got along best when we stayed out of each other’s business. On the other hand, he was one of the smartest men I knew, so I added, only a little reluctantly, “What have you got?”

“I had a few minutes between meetings so I did a little research on this outfit. I couldn’t figure out why I’d never heard of them. It turns out they’ve only been in business eight months.”

“But…” I was exhausted and my brain was numb with cold, but I was certain that wasn’t right. “Paul told me they had been here three years.”

“And that property with the lodge that looks so great on the website? It’s rented.”

“Rented? Are you sure?”

“Honey, I’m in the real estate business. I’m sure. I talked to the owner. It’s a long term lease, with cash up front, but it’s rented.”

I wasn’t certain what was more confusing: the lies Paul Evans had told or the trouble Miles had gone to on my behalf. “You talked to the owner?”

“There’s something else.” His tone was grim. “Last fall the New Day Wilderness Program made the news when one of their counselors went missing.”

I rubbed my forehead, which was beginning to ache. “I know. It was in Bullard, which was why I wasn’t called in on the search. But they found him in a couple of days.”

“They found him, all right,” Miles said. “Dead.”

I stared at the image on the screen. I thought,
Damn it.
And again, with more vehemence,
Damn it.
If my esteemed ex-husband and the acting sheriff of Hanover County had been on duty where he belonged instead of chasing skirt in Florida, he would have taken my call and I would have known that little detail before I climbed halfway up a mountain in thirty degree temperatures with a couple of people who may or may not be who they claimed to be. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t tried to do my research.

“Damn it,” I said out loud, through gritted teeth.

“Apparently he left the expedition in the middle, but never made it back to town. The death was ruled accidental, but I thought you’d want to know. I’ll send you the article.”

I passed a hand over my face, trying to regain my composure. “Yeah, thanks. That’d be great. When are you coming back?”

“A couple of days. I’ll check with you when I get back to the States.”

“I have to keep my phone off during the day. We’re supposed to be incommunicado.”

“I’m starting to think you should have gotten paid up front.”

Cisco wound his way through the brush back to me and I reached down to rub his neck. “Me, too.”

“By the way, you’ll want to keep your eye on the weather. There’s a storm front headed your way.”

“Not possible. I checked the forecast before I left.”

“It’ll probably play out before it reaches you, but Houston is already iced in.”

I groaned. “Terrific. And you know this from Portugal?”

“That’s why they call it the World Wide Web.” A pause. “You okay?”

I sighed. “Yeah. I’m good. And listen… thanks. You know, for interfering.”

He winked at me. “Any time. Bundle up, sweetie.”

“Don’t worry,” I told him. “I’ve got my best guy to snuggle with.” I turned the phone to Cisco’s face, who swiped the screen with his tongue. I heard Miles laughing just before he disconnected.

I turned to go back to camp saw Rachel standing with her feet planted and her hands in her pockets about ten feet away. Her expression was pinched and frozen looking, her eyes radiated disapproval, and I felt like a kid who had been caught in the back seat of her boyfriend’s car. I didn’t know how much, if anything she had heard, nor did I particularly care. Needless to say, I was not in a very receptive mood as I approached her.

“Miss Stockton,” she said, “There is a reason we don’t allow cell phones on these expeditions.”

Cisco, his tail waving enthusiastically, hurried forward to greet her, but I grabbed his collar. I said, “I’d love to know what it is. I’ve always thought of a cell phone as a necessary piece of emergency equipment for any wilderness expedition.”

A faint expression of wariness crossed her face as she glanced at Cisco, but once she was certain I had him under control, she looked back at me. “Many of our students are from families of influence and wealth—politicians, celebrities, even royalty. We don’t have the kind of security system that can keep them safe in a place like this and a single photo posted to Twitter could put them at risk for kidnapping or worse.”

I’ll admit, I hadn’t thought of that. Before I could assure her that she needn’t worry about anything of the sort from me, she went on, “Aside from that—and perhaps of more immediate concern—these children are here because they have in one way or another come up against the law. The minute they find out you have a cell phone is the minute you can kiss it good-bye, because there isn’t a kid here who wouldn’t relieve you of it the first chance he got and use it to call his dealer, his brother, his best friend or even his dad to come and get him. All else aside, you can see how that might present more of a danger up here than it would in the nice safe compound below.”

I understood perfectly. A teenager who believed rescue was on the way—or who at least had access to the outside world—might be far more inclined to take off on his own than someone who was isolated and dependent on others for his survival. I was ready to apologize and promise to keep my phone turned off and securely zipped in the innermost pocket of my pack when she held out her gloved hand, palm up, like a teacher confiscating contraband from a wayward student.

I stared at her hand. I stared at her frosty gray eyes. And then I couldn’t help it; I laughed out loud, mostly from sheer surprise, but also because of the absurdity of it. She couldn’t have been much older than I was, she was paying me to be here, and she was treating me like one of her troubled teenagers. I said, “I don’t think so,” and started to move past her.

She closed her fingers around my arm. “I’m afraid I must insist.”

My amusement turned to disbelief, and then to cool indignation. I pulled my arm away, slowly but deliberately. I said, “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll take care of it myself. Cisco, with me.”

I moved past her toward the camp, and I could feel her eyes boring into me with every step. She was clearly a woman who was not accustomed to being refused, and I supposed that was only natural in her line of work. At least that was what I told myself. Because the other possibility was far more unpalatable, if a great deal more likely: Rachel Evans was, quite simply,a bully.

CHAPTER NINE

The sun was a fuzzy white remnant filtered through skeletal tree limbs when I reached the camp. The shadows on the ground were long and cold. Most of the tents were erected, though Pete was still pounding down the stakes on his. Tiffanie and Jess had scraped out a shallow fire pit and Jess dropped an armload of sticks into it. They were arguing about something as I approached, which hardly surprised me. I glanced at the sticks Jess had tossed in the pit and suggested, “Try not to get wood that’s been lying on the ground. It soaks up water from the leaves and it won’t burn. Look for dead branches caught in bushes or on low limbs of trees.”

Jess slanted me a dark glance and Tiffanie retorted, “See, dumbass? You couldn’t make a fire even
with
matches!”

Angel crawled out of her tent. “I looked all through my pack. I couldn’t find any.”

Jess shouted, “Hey, Pete! You got any matches?” He strode toward Pete’s tent.

I said to the girls, “There’s a deadfall a couple of dozen yards into the woods to the west. You’ll find plenty of dry wood there.” I glanced around. “Where’s Lourdes?”

“Still back there, I guess.” Tiffanie gestured impatiently back down the trail. “She’ll be lucky if she gets here by morning. Come on, Angel. Let’s go get the wood Jess should have gotten in the first place.” She raised her voice on the last to make certain Jess overheard, and Jess turned to make an obscene gesture with his fist.

“Wait a minute,” I said as the girls started toward the woods. “Do you mean Lourdes isn’t back yet? Seriously?”

“So what’s so surprising about that?” Angel said, trudging on.

I marched Cisco over to Paul, who was checking the security of the girls’ tent stakes.

“Lourdes isn’t back yet,” I said.

He glanced up at me. “That’s right.”

“But all the counselors are here. You said we were supposed to keep the kids in sight.”

“Lourdes chose her own pace. She also chose the consequences.”

I stared at him. “It’s getting dark. She’s alone on a trail that’s hard enough to see in the daylight and you just
left
her?”

“She has a flashlight and an emergency whistle.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” It had been a long day. My voice rose in pitch. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve gone into the mountains looking for people who
started out
with flashlights and emergency whistles?”

Cisco, sensing my tension, or perhaps a little on edge himself, sat at my side and barked. The boys nudged each other and grinned in the way kids do when they catch adults behaving inappropriately. I probably should have been embarrassed, or at least a little apologetic for yelling at my boss. But I knew exactly who was going to go back down the trail with a flashlight looking for Lourdes if she didn’t show up within the next hour, and I wasn’t the least bit inclined to apologize to Paul Evans.

Paul said calmly, “One of the things we try to teach our students while they’re with us is the importance of making correct choices. I would appreciate it if you would not interfere with that lesson. I suspect she’ll be back before the boys get the campfire lit.”

Jess said, “Umm, about that… anybody got a match?”

I ignored him, my gaze fastened hard on Paul. It was clearly past time we cleared up a few things. “Could I speak with you privately?”

His eyes flickered over my shoulder and then back to me. I knew without turning around that Rachel had come up behind me. She said, “Group session starts in twenty minutes, gentlemen. If you don’t get the fire started pretty soon, you won’t have time to eat.”

Pete said impatiently, “Look, nobody can find any matches, so either you guys forgot to pack them or—”

“I assure you, Mr. Randall, we packed plenty of matches.”
  “Oh, for Heaven’s sake.” I turned sharply to him, digging into my pocket for matches. Then I stopped. “Do you mean none of you kids packed your own backpacks?”

“Of course not.” Jess’s tone was snide, and he hunched his shoulders and shivered in the wind. “We might try to sneak in some contraband chocolate.”

Rachel saw my hand on the matches and said, “It’s important to let the students solve their own problems, Miss Stockton.”

“Yeah, well, let me know when somebody figures out how to solve this one.” Jess turned and started to stomp back to his tent.

I said, “Wait a minute.”

Jess looked at me impatiently. Rachel said in a warning tone, “Miss Stockton…”