Edge of Survival

Trapped on a deserted island and targeted by a deadly hunter, camp director Nicky Trailer must turn to the one man she vowed never to forgive. Luke Wolf abandoned her without a word years ago and crushed her girlhood dreams. When he suddenly returns to help her save her beloved summer camp, she doesn’t want to forgive and forget. But with the mysterious hunter picking off campers one by one, Luke is the only one who can help her get off the island. With danger stalking their every move, can Luke and Nicky move beyond their past and work together to survive?

Was it a calling card…or a warning?

“This arrow is exactly like the one you found yesterday,” Luke told her.

A painful breath filled her lungs. The Hunter was back. While she’d been showing the sponsors around the island, the same man who’d held a knife to her throat twenty-four hours ago had shot an arrow into the wreckage of the obstacle course that nearly drowned them.

“So he’s still here on the island, and he’s toying with us.” For a moment she felt so helpless that hot tears rushed to her eyes. Luke spread his arms wide and she stepped between them, looking for their comforting strength.

“So, the Hunter came back after stealing our boat yesterday?” she asked.

“Or he might be one of the four people back at the campsite right now,” Luke said.

Something rustled in the forest behind them. They both spun sharply. She searched the tree line. She heard nothing but the whispers of trees in the breeze. The Hunter could be anywhere. Silent. Deadly. Now she knew: nowhere was safe.

MAGGIE K. BLACK is an award-winning journalist and romantic suspense author with an insatiable love of traveling the world. She has lived in the American South, Europe and the Middle East. She now makes her home in Canada with her history teacher husband, their two beautiful girls and a small but mighty dog. Maggie enjoys connecting with her readers at maggiekblack.com.

Silent Hunter

Maggie K. Black

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones:

I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life.

—Ezekiel 37:5

With thanks to all the amazing friends and camp staff who helped me brainstorm for this book.

I couldn’t have done it without you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Worn wooden rungs creaked loudly under Nicky Trailer’s boots. The ladder quivered as she climbed. She was a good twenty feet up in the air, smack-dab in the middle of Camp Spirit’s main lodge, halfway between the old wooden floors and steeply slanted ceiling. The camp director’s hazel eyes glanced up at the ceiling hatch high above her head. When she’d decided to store years’ worth of paperwork up inside the claustrophobic crawlspace, she hadn’t expected the camp’s owner would ever send her on such a short-notice scavenger hunt. Especially not because he’d invited a reporter to the camp without telling her. “This still feels like a terrible idea.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, the loft’s only three stories up, and here I seem to remember a certain tomboy in pigtails once being the youngest girl in camp history to conquer the high ropes.” George Dale’s warm chuckle echoed up the A-framed walls.

“That’s not what I—” The words froze on her tongue as she caught the twinkle in the old man’s eyes. Her elderly boss was teasing. As always. Apparently he wasn’t the slightest bit worried about having some journalist poking around the day before she led the most important canoe trip of her life. So why was she?

“I was the youngest camper period, and don’t you forget it.” Nikki flashed a grin and tucked an unruly curl of long brown hair firmly back under her bandanna. “You’re not getting out of discussing this reporter thing that easily. Though if I’d realized the loft ladder had gotten this creaky, I’d have added a new one of those to my wish list, too.”

Right behind patching the roof, better sports equipment and rebuilding the boathouse. There were two months until summer camp and the list of things needing repair was growing longer by the day. Her gaze ran through towering glass windows, past the cabins, down to where the morning sun set rays of light dancing on the lake. She’d spent almost twenty years among these Ontario trees—first as camper, then counselor and now as George’s second in command. Nicky ran Camp Spirit’s summer and off-season camps, while George managed the business side. It was a great partnership that felt more like family than owner and employee.

If only our days weren’t numbered. It was only a question of whether money troubles or George’s failing health sank Camp Spirit first. His tendency to take on the neediest campers regardless of their ability to pay didn’t leave much left over for new equipment and repairs. And while George’s only son, Trevor, worked there occasionally, it was clear the young man would rather sell than fill his father’s shoes.

Which is why tomorrow’s trip is way too important to mess up by having some Toronto journalist tag along. George had invited a handful of community and business leaders for a weekend of camping on an isolated Muskoka island. He’d pitched it as “three days extreme camping, followed by a serious discussion about investing in Camp Spirit’s future.” She wasn’t quite sure what kind of investment he had in mind, but even a donation of volunteers or equipment could mean staying open another summer or two. The trapdoor slid back easily. Dust and cobwebs filled the air.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but inviting any media up at this point is just asking for bad press.” She climbed into the attic on her hands and knees. “Do you want me to get a cabin ready for him?”

“Actually, he’s staying with me.” George looked up at her through the hole in the floor. He ran one hand along his white beard. “Mr. Wolf is coming up as a friend, not a reporter. He’s a really outstanding young man, and I wanted to make sure you had a chance to get to know him one-on-one, before everyone else arrived tomorrow. I’m hoping you two will really hit it off.”

What exactly did he mean by that? It would hardly be the first time the widower had invited someone to swing by in a misguided attempt at playing matchmaker. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. “Well, if he’s a friend of yours, I’m sure we’ll get along as friends just fine.”

She picked her way through mountains of old tarps and sports equipment. George was an old softie, but he had to know she had no intention of ever leaving these woods, let alone following some man to the city. Besides, it wasn’t as though the camp didn’t have a steady stream of healthy, God-fearing bachelors come tramping through.

Sure, the first time a cute guy held her hand by the water and said he liked her, she’d believed him with every beat of her foolish heart. She’d been eighteen then. Louie had been nineteen and a counselor from their rival camp, with sad gray-blue eyes and a white scar that curved at his throat. He’d left without even saying goodbye, and now after watching countless other camp romances flare up then fizzle out, it was clear that while the moonlight might bring out the romantic in people, they usually just ended up walking right back out of these woods as easily as they’d walked in.

A pile of old camp mats slithered apart underneath her. “Now, remind me what—”

The crash below was deafening. A wooden echo shook the floor beneath her. A cry rose to her lips but she bit it back. “George? What was that? Are you okay?”

Silence came from the hole in the floor. Her eyes glanced up toward the skylight for a second as she prayed. Please, Lord, don’t let it be another heart attack. He barely survived the last one. She scrambled to the trapdoor and looked down. The ladder had fallen over. The dining hall was empty. Hopefully that meant he’d just gone to grab something. “Hey!” She kept her voice upbeat but loud. “Where’d you go? That ladder won’t stand on its own.”

Any response he might have given was lost in the sound of a powerful engine peeling down the camp’s gravel road. She slid over to the skylight and opened it. A black sports car pulled to a neat stop beside the lodge. A man stepped out. Nicky’s mouth went dry. The visitor was tall, with tousled black hair and just the hint of three-o’clock shadow along his jaw. His broad shoulders were cleanly framed by the lines of a gray suit jacket. Sunglasses hid his eyes, while the crisp dress shirt did nothing to disguise the solid strength that lay beneath it. He loosened his tie just enough to undo his top button. A frown crossed his lips. Then he disappeared around the corner toward the office door.

This was Mr. Wolf? Nicky sat back on her heels and pressed her palm against her chest. Probably just as well her first glimpse of him was through the attic window. It would give her time to get the flush of heat out of her cheeks. She ran both hands down her dirty jeans and brushed the cobwebs from her face. Then she made her way through the maze of equipment back to the trapdoor.

“Hey, George? I think your reporter friend has pulled up outside. Also don’t forget about the ladder.”

A fit of coughing overtook her lungs. The air was thick and bitter. Thin fingers of smoke curled through the trapdoor, setting every warning bell inside her clanging. She braced her body and hung her head through the hole in the floor. Dark smoke poured from under the door leading to the kitchen. Orange flames flickered at the serving window. Panic flooded her veins, nearly sending her headfirst through the hole.

She was alone. She was trapped. And the building was on fire.

* * *

Searing heat shot through Luke’s palm as his fingers brushed the doorknob. Gingerly he placed his hand flat against the office door. Warmth radiated through it. Bad sign. Very bad sign. The faintest whisper of smoke slipped from around the reinforced door and the lodge windows showed nothing but a reflection of trees. But somewhere inside the building a fire was raging.

He scanned the campgrounds. For a split second he thought he saw someone moving in the trees. A shadowy shape in what looked like hunting fatigues was pelting up a steep path through the woods.

“Hey! Stop! Someone needs help!” The figure disappeared and Luke grit his teeth. He didn’t have time to chase after him. And, if his old and regrettable memories of teenage mischief were correct, it would take him at least twenty minutes to run to the neighboring camp. But only moments ago he’d seen a woman in the attic window. Had she managed to get out safely? Being here is a painful reminder that I’m the last man any woman would want as a hero.

Hero or not, he might be the only chance she had.

Stepping back from the door, he called up to the empty window. “Hey! I’m going to call the fire department and then I’m coming to get you out.” There was no response but he couldn’t afford to wait. Flames were now pouring through a broken window at the back of the building. Tongues of fire licked toward the sky as he pulled out his cell phone.

He couldn’t get a signal, but he remembered seeing a red emergency telephone on a pole near the first-aid station. Luke ran for it, wrapped his jacket around his fist and smashed the glass. He wrenched the handset from the cradle. “Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me?”

“Nine-one-one. Emergency services.” The voice was crisp and female.

“I’m at Camp Spirit on rural route eight. The lodge is on fire and someone’s inside.”

“Emergency vehicles are being dispatched to your location, can you describe—”

“No. Sorry. I need to get her out of there.”

He ran at the lodge and threw his weight into a solid blow aimed right at the center of the office door. It flew back off the hinges. Smoke poured out.

Sloshing his jacket in a rain barrel beside the door, he held it to his face and entered the building. A surge of hot air beat back against his body. He bowed his head and pushed through as smoke seared his lungs. It seemed as if the fire was fiercest in the back of the building, but it was only a matter of time before flames engulfed the office, too.

“Hello! Hey! Can anybody hear me?” A voice groaned in the darkness. “Hang on!”

In seconds he reached George. The one man Luke owed his entire life to lay pinned to the floor underneath a bookcase. He was pale but—Thank God—still conscious.

“It’s me, Luke. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Shoving the bookcase aside, he grasped George under both arms and pulled him out from under it. The air was getting hotter. The smoke was growing thicker. His mind’s eye set firmly on the faint shaft of daylight cutting through the darkness, he stumbled toward it.

Clean air filled Luke’s lungs as he hauled George through the doorway and up onto the grassy slope. He knelt beside him.

“I called 9-1-1. Help is on the way. But I saw a woman in the window. She still in there?”

George nodded. “Nicky.”

“How do I get to her? Stairs?”

“No. Just...ladder.” George’s voice was so faint Luke had to strain to catch his words. He turned back to the fire as George grabbed his arm. “Please... Take...like...” A fit of coughing stole George’s words from his lungs. Tears filled his smoke-stained eyes. “Cash box...”

The words hit Luke like a slap in the face. Was George asking him to run into the fire to find the camp cash box? Or was he intentionally reminding Luke of the very worst thing he’d ever done?

There wasn’t time for this. Shoving the question from his mind, Luke ran back toward the lodge, ignoring the pain in his lungs and the heat on his limbs. Soot coated his skin. He snapped off what remained of his tie, swinging loose over a shirt now more tatters than clothing.

A woman’s scream filled the air. He rounded the corner and saw her.

“Nicky” dangled from the skylight window, climbing hand-over-hand down the slanted roof tiles using something that looked like a knotted tarp. Clever. But she was still almost three stories off the ground, with a sheer slide to the cement below. The makeshift rope barely reached halfway to the ground. He’d have to convince her to jump and find some way to break her fall. If he missed, she’d break every bone in her body.

Smoke poured through the window above her as he ran to her aid. He could hear sirens wailing in the distance.

The tarp chain snapped. Nicky flew backward through the air. Prayers for mercy poured wordlessly through his lips as he reached out. Her body hit his chest. The force knocked him back, throwing them to the ground. His arms tightened around her, absorbing the blow, as cement knocked the air from his lungs.

She lay on top of him for a moment, her back pressed against his chest. Her face turned towards him. Her breath came fast and hard on his neck. Wild, dark hair brushed against his face, filling his senses with haunting scents of wood smoke and wild berries. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“George... He...” She tried to speak, but could barely manage a whisper.

“He’s all right. I got him out. You okay to walk? We’d better get away from this building.”

She rolled off onto the ground beside him. He helped her to her feet, but they’d barely gone a few steps when he felt her fall against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not hurt. Just shaky.”

He wrapped his arm around her. “Take it slow. We’ll get the paramedics to check you out.”

Emergency vehicles poured down the camp driveway. Doors slammed. Voices shouted. Fire hoses roared to life.

“I’m Nicky Trailer, the camp director. Thank you for saving me.”

“Luke Wolf, Torchlight News. You’re very welcome.” A smile turned at the corner of his lips. Then it froze as he looked down at her face. Luminous hazel eyes looked up into his, shining like gold in her soot-stained face and sending disjointed memories cascading through his mind. His heart stuttered.

That Nicky? Still here? This many years later? Could it really be her? If so, did she even have any idea who he was?

She stumbled. Her hand brushed against his, sending an unsettling shiver through his skin. Her gaze dropped to his where his shirt laid torn open over his chest. A gasp slipped through her lips. Her eyes grew wider as she pushed him away and stumbled backward.

“Louie? Is it really you?” She crumpled to the ground.

TWO

The afternoon sun had already begun its trek toward the top of the tree line when a police officer dropped Nicky back at the camp to grab a few things from her cabin and pick up her car. They didn’t want her spending the night at the main site until the investigation into the fire was complete. Not even in her own cabin, her own bed. At least the police had no problem with her still taking George’s potential donors on the camping trip tomorrow, given they’d be canoeing to a small island and not staying at the main site. A trip she’d now make with only Trevor for part-time backup, since George would be in hospital.

The lodge’s burned-out shell rose in front of her, wrapped in a maze of yellow police tape. Her chest ached as if someone had reached into her center and hollowed it out. Her mind spun with the list of jobs she needed to get done before she left to spend the night on a friend’s couch. But before she did anything, she should probably take a few minutes to settle her heart. She turned right and wound her way through the thick woods to the south of the camps. Then she started climbing.

Her legs felt like sandbags. The sprinkler system and fire alarm had both failed. A brief conversation with someone from the insurance company told her they’d be investigating two possibilities: major electrical fault and arson. Which was worse? The idea the camp was in such bad repair that it had become a dangerous firetrap? Or that someone had intentionally tried to destroy the camp, her home? Both were unthinkable.

She took a deep breath and pushed her body through the branches. The toes of her boots dug hard into the steep, narrow trail. Her mind pushed prayers to the tip of her tongue. Thanking God that George was alive and resting in hospital. Thanking God that the fire hadn’t spread to the forest. Thanking God that Luke Wolf had been there...

As Luke’s name crossed her lips, suddenly the blue-gray eyes of the teenaged boy who’d once stolen her heart among these trees filled her mind. She grabbed a narrow trunk with one hand to steady herself as she suddenly remembered what she’d done—

Just before she’d passed out, she’d asked the man who’d caught her if he was the same guy she’d known as “Louie.”

What had she been thinking? It had been years since she’d stopped wishing that boy would ever return and apologize. Let alone feeling a flutter of hope every time she knew a man named Louie, Louis or Lou was about to come through the door. The nineteen-year-old rival camp counselor had broken her heart more than ten years ago. Guys like that didn’t just come back after a decade, all grown up in a sharp suit and tie, just to pluck her from danger.

Yet, for a moment, she’d thought she’d seen the same white, telltale scar curving along the lines of his soot-stained chest. Maybe it had just been her mind playing tricks. Everything that had happened between seeing those flames and waking up in the back of an ambulance was still all a blur.

Thick forest gave way to the edge of a sheer rock cliff. It was the highest point of the property. Nothing but sharp rock lay below, on all sides of the lookout. Yet if she raised her chin toward the horizon, sparkling blue waters filled her eyes. Dark clouds gathered in the distance.

Once this had just been the place she’d come as a teenager to meet her secret crush from the camp next door. Now, as a woman, it was the old familiar ground she’d been walking daily, for years, to pray in solitude. Below her to the right lay the glistening buildings and sparkling beach of Ace Sports Resort. To her left, she caught a glimpse of the burned remains of Camp Spirit’s lodge. She dropped to her knees and let her forehead fall into her hands.

Oh, Lord, I don’t even know what to pray right now.

Footsteps crackled in the brush behind her. She jumped up. It was Luke. The sport’s reporter had changed into jeans and a plaid shirt, but somehow still managed to look as though he’d just stepped out of a magazine. Clouds reflected in the sunglasses hiding his eyes. Faint soot still traced the deepest lines of his face, as if someone had just sketched him out of charcoal.

It had to be him! How else would he have known where to find her?

“Hey!” Luke started toward her. “How are you feeling? You okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He reached out as though unsure whether to shake her hand or to hug her. Then he stopped and shoved his hand into his pocket. “How’s George?”

“He’s okay. The doctors only let me talk to him for a few minutes. But he seems good. They’re just worried about his heart and want him to rest in the hospital for a couple of days. Canoe trip is still going ahead tomorrow, though. His son, Trevor, is going to alternate between camping with us and being back here for his dad.”

“Glad to hear it. I filed a police report. I think I might have seen someone in the woods just before I called 9-1-1.”

She rolled her shoulders back, like a duck shaking off water. “Thanks. But, honestly, I’m not ready to believe anyone would have set this fire intentionally.”

Luke paused, then ran his hand over his jaw. His index finger brushed over his bottom lip as if trying to summon words he wasn’t sure how to say.

“We need to talk.”

She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath.

“Told you we’d find her here!” a voice boomed.

Neil Pryce, the director of Ace Sports Resort, came crashing through the underbrush. The former quarterback jammed a very large smartphone into his jacket pocket. “Sorry to leave you back there, Luke, but I had a quick email to sort and I knew that I’d probably lose our Wi-Fi signal once I left Ace Sports territory.”

So much for their moment alone to talk.

Neil reached for Nicky’s hand and squeezed like clamped-on jumper cables. “I’m so sorry to hear about what happened. A fire. Wow. Well, I guess that’s the danger you run with those rustic older buildings.”

She smiled politely and pulled her hand away. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other. Though unless I have him mistaken for someone else, I think Luke used to be a counselor at Ace Sports? Back when we were both teenagers?”

Neil’s grin grew so wide and toothy it reminded her of a shark. “Really? I didn’t know Ace Sports actually had an alumni working as a Toronto sports reporter.”

Luke pulled off his sunglasses. Gray eyes searched her face. “Sorry, I never actually went to Ace Sports or worked there. I’ve never been a camp counselor kind of guy. In fact, my first legit job was actually stacking newspapers in the warehouse at Torchlight News. George helped me get it.”

Nicky felt her heart drop a couple of inches. Did that mean he wasn’t who she thought he was?

“Well, it’s never too late to get the Ace Sports experience,” Neil said. “Me and Luke met at the hospital. I could hear the sirens all the way from the tennis courts, so figured I’d follow the ambulance to the hospital to see if there was anything I could do to help.”

She nearly snorted. It was more likely Neil had hoped to take advantage of George’s enfeebled state to snag a few of their potential donors for his latest vanity project. Neil might be the boss of the shiny camp next door, but he wasn’t an owner. He simply reported to a whole boardroom full of money-minded shareholders who’d probably love to snatch up Camp Spirit’s land to build another luxury sports complex. If the lodge fire did turn out to be arson, would police be questioning Neil and his staff? Neil might be both competitive and smarmy, but she hated to think he was actually capable of stooping that low.

“When I discovered Luke here was a sports reporter, I offered to put him up in one of Ace Sports’ deluxe chalets,” Neil added. “Just finished moving him in. In return, we’re hoping he’ll give us some positive press on our new facilities. An hour in our heated pool and he won’t be able to help himself from giving us a full spread.”

No surprise there. Nicky’s smile stiffened. Here George had assured her that Luke was a good friend, not the kind of person who would run to their competitor in exchange for a comfier bed and hot towels. Now she just had to hope she could keep the prospective donors from deserting them, as well.

* * *

Luke felt something twist in his chest as he saw the disappointment flicker in Nicky’s dark eyes. Not that the rest of her face gave that much away.

“Well, then, I guess Camp Spirit’s loss is Ace Sports’ gain.” She flashed him a crisp, professional smile, which somehow managed to make him feel even worse. What else had she expected him to do? George was in the hospital. The closest hotel was an hour away.

Luke ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Actually, Torchlight News has a policy of never exchanging publicity for perks. The paper will pay for my stay.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find it quite comfortable.” Nicky’s smile never faltered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking a group canoeing this weekend and need to take a boat to the campsite to make sure everything is in order.” Before he could say anything more, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the woods.

Neil chuckled. “She’s a pip, isn’t she? I pity the poor fool who ever tries to tame her. Now, how about you and I go take a tour of Ace Sports’ new facilities? Maybe try out the pool? Or are you more of an archery man?”

Luke blew out a hard breath. Shooting off a few arrows sounded like exactly what he could use right now. In fact, he had his wooden bow stashed in the back of his car, just in case he was able to get some target practice in at the archery range. But, between the admission that he’d never actually been an Ace Sports counselor and where he was crashing overnight, he’d somehow just managed to make Nicky even more upset than she was already. He had to fix this.

“Maybe later.” He glanced down the hill, searching for some sign of her among the trees. “Thank you again for your help. I’ll find my own way back in a bit and check in with your front office later.”

Luke started down the hill, half jogging and half climbing. She’d been in such a hurry she’d just run off straight through the trees instead of bothering with the winding path. Same old Nicky. Sure, the past decade had softened some of the angles. But that fire in her eyes hadn’t dampened for a moment.

He lost sight of her at the beach, behind a rack of canoes, but saw her again by the docks. She disappeared into the boathouse. He followed, took a deep breath and slid the door open. The boathouse was built like a barn with thin docks forming two separate channels. Faint light filtered through the windows, bouncing off the water and sending refracted light across the walls. Two identical four-person speedboats sat side by side. The door swung shut behind him. “Hello? Nicky?”

A figure rose from the back of the nearest boat. A dark raincoat now engulfed her body. The hood framed her face, casting shadows down the curve of her neck. Dark curls trailed along her cheeks. His heart caught in his chest. All these years, Nicky had been like a phantom at the edges of his memory—and here she was even more beautiful than he’d remembered.

How much did she remember? Did she remember the long conversations on top of the cliff? How he’d opened his heart to her? How close they’d gotten? Or had everything they’d shared been destroyed by how he’d left, then been lost under an avalanche of time?

Her eyes opened wide. Then they narrowed, filling with a look that bordered on frustration. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he’d walked out of her life for a reason. He’d needed to protect her then. He needed to protect her now. “Sorry to just barge in like this. We didn’t really didn’t get a chance to talk back there, and I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Yeah, I’m just busy doing the work of two people, trying to get ready for tomorrow.” She shrugged. “Obviously, I’ll feel better when George is back on his feet again. I’m guessing you didn’t get a chance to talk to him?”

A bitter taste rose to his tongue. Yeah, he’d talked to George, for all of two seconds after he’d pulled him from the blaze. Just long enough for George to remind him he’d once been a liar and a thief who’d tried to steal the camp cash box. Which was the exact opposite of what he’d have ever expected from the old man, especially after George had pressed upon him how important it was to him personally that Luke come up this weekend. It made no sense.

“Not really. Just a few words. Do you keep anything special in your camp cash box? I thought he said something about my going back for it, but obviously I couldn’t.”

She blinked. “No. Just a couple hundred dollars in petty cash. Nothing worth running into a fire for. Maybe you misunderstood him.”

He shrugged. “Probably.” She turned to the boat. He crossed the floor in three steps. “Wait. Before you go, I owe you an apology.”

She didn’t even look at him. “Don’t worry about it. Please. You’re hardly the first person Ace Sports has lured away. Just make sure you double check your invoice carefully.” She slapped a button on the wall and the garage-type door rolled open. “Now, if you could close this door after I leave, I’d really appreciate it. The remote isn’t working and it’s going to rain.”

Why were they still talking to each other like virtual strangers? For years he’d pictured what it would be like to see Nicky again. He’d imagined her crying. He’d imagined her yelling. He’d even imagined her tumbling into his arms. He’d never imagined her just brushing him off.

She glanced back over her shoulder. Her eyes met his. Huge. Fathomless. Filled with questions she didn’t seem ready put into words, yet which still somehow managed to reach into his chest begging him for the answers. She slipped a key into the ignition. The engine roared to life.

“Nicky, wait.” He crossed the floor quickly, feeling all the words he wanted to say get mixed up and jumbled inside him. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“I’m sorry, but I really must go.” The boat inched forward. She didn’t even look at him. “I’ve got to get the camping site ready for tomorrow and the storm’s moving faster than I expected. I’m short-handed as it is—”

He grabbed the corner of the windshield. “I’m sorry I never showed up at the lookout that day and just left you standing there waiting. I never should’ve left without saying goodbye. As for telling you my name was ‘Louie’ instead of ‘Luke’ so you couldn’t find me, and pretending I was really a counselor at Ace Sports...that was pretty low.”

A long pause spread through the tiny boathouse, filling his ears with the sound of water lapping against the boat. Her hood fell back. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. Her lower lip trembled. He slid his hand down the windshield and onto the console, inches away from hers.

But she kept both hands on the steering wheel. When she spoke, her voice was as clear and strong as the sound of the final whistle. “I don’t know what to say to that. Except, thank you for finally being honest. I thought I’d recognized you earlier, but I didn’t know what to think, especially when you said you’d never worked at Ace Sports.” She blinked hard. “I accept your apology. But I honestly don’t have time to talk about this right now. I just really have to go.”

“Okay.” He let go of the boat and crossed his arms. “Then I’m coming with you.”

THREE

The thick mass of towering rock and dense pines rose out of the water, deep in the middle of the lake. Black-and-orange clouds hung heavy in the trees. Nicky eased up on the throttle and steered the boat toward the island. They’d barely exchanged more than a word or two since they’d left camp. Not that it was always easy to make yourself heard over the rush of the wind and the smack of waves hitting the boat. Maybe he was simply waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t have a clue what to say.

So, her first love hadn’t just broken her heart, he’d lied to her about who he was and where he was from. Repeatedly and intentionally. Which probably meant he’d just been some bored teenager from a nearby cottage who’d thought it would be fun to sneak into a camp. Wouldn’t be the only time that had happened. Except, this time she’d been the foolish girl who’d been too quick to trust and to give her heart away. A mistake she wouldn’t make again.

Nicky focused on coasting the boat through an obstacle course of jutting rocks and yellow buoys. Whatever she’d once felt for this man was ancient history. All that mattered now was saving her camp. Luke was nothing more to her now than someone her boss had invited up for the weekend.

She cut the motor, filling the air with a silence that was so still it was almost deafening.

Luke whistled under his breath. “George told me that a former camper had given Camp Spirit an actual island in their will, but I’ve never seen it.”

She almost smiled. “It’s about a two-hour trip by canoe, though way less by motorboat. It was bequeathed to Camp Spirit about three years ago, but we haven’t been able to do much with it, to be honest. George has this vision of turning it into an offshoot youth camp for older teens that are either in trouble with the law or at risk of going that way. But we don’t have the resources to make it happen.”

“Do you get a lot of donations?”

She steered the boat toward a small strip of beach. “Not really. A few former campers give us twenty or thirty dollars a month. But even though George kind of runs the place like a charity, he’s never applied to legally become one because we don’t hit all the criteria, and that turns off a lot of donors. Sometimes business people or organizations partner with us to build something specific. And then there’s Mystery Donor.”

His eyebrows rose. “‘Mystery Donor’?”

“That’s what the counselors call him or her. Seven or eight years ago, someone gave George a huge, huge donation. Close to a million dollars, actually. With careful management, George was able to use it to fund new buildings and new projects. It kept us going for years. But as only George knew their name, the summer staff got into the habit of praying, ‘Thank You, God, for the Mystery Donor!’ and it stuck.”

She chuckled. But Luke frowned. His gaze ran over the steep stone crags. His brow furrowed. The whole trip there she’d been catching little sideways glimpses of him, without really meaning to. Evaluating the man he was against the boy she remembered. His shoulders had gone from husky to strong. Dark stubble on his jawline hinted of a man who didn’t like a close shave. No ring on his finger, implying he’d never settled down. There was still a slight curve at the corner of a mouth that looked just as soft as the day he’d first kissed her. “Well, I know things are tight financially, and I wish I had the kind of money that could help you guys out.”

“Oh, trust me, you’re not the only one. Just because I love working for George, doesn’t mean I’m ever going to have the amount of money to buy this place out from under him. The land itself is worth far, far more than the business standing on it.” She reached to touch his shoulder. Then caught herself midair. “You’re a sport’s reporter, not a millionaire.”

“George asked me to come up because he had something important to talk to me about before the canoe trip. Do you know what it was?”

She sat straight. “No. I honestly don’t.” For that matter she didn’t really know why George had wanted her to take down the old boxes of camp records and photographs. “I just presumed he wanted to talk to you about a newspaper article.”

To their left, an aquatic obstacle course hung over the surface of the water in a collection of nets, tires and climbing ropes. They glided past it. Then, to the right, they could see the small sliver of murky sand that formed the island’s only beach. A thin wooden dock ran along one side of it with a red-and-white sign that warned potential trespassers they were entering Camp Spirit property. She tossed the rope around a pillar, caught it on the first try and pulled the craft in to the dock.

They climbed out and she sighed. The beach was a mess of driftwood and seaweed. Trevor was supposed to have done a proper cleanup of the campsite earlier in the week. Apparently he hadn’t bothered.

“Looks like I’m going to need two pairs of hands, after all. I’ll run ahead to the campsite and make sure it’s not a mess. If you could stay here and clear some of this mess off the beach...that would be amazing.”

“You sure you’re okay going off alone, after everything that happened this morning?” Luke sounded concerned. He had no reason to be. Whether they were on the mainland or the island, this camp was still her baby.

“Absolutely. You’re probably more sore from catching me that I am from crashing into you.” Light rain began to fall, dimpling the water and denting the mud by her feet. She started up the beach. The ground was scuffed with footprints. Even worse. Trespassers always made a mess of things. “Also, it looks like the island had a visitor recently. Fortunately, whoever they were, they’re gone now, otherwise their boat would still be here. There’s nowhere else on the island they could’ve safely moored.”

Luke ran his hand through his hair. “Thanks again for letting me come with you. I know this isn’t the ideal place for us to talk, but I thought it was important we cleared the air as soon as possible.” There was a smile back in his voice again.

But this time she didn’t smile back. Between the rain, Trevor’s failure to get his work done and the signs of a trespasser, her evening had just gotten a whole lot busier. “I appreciate that. But it’s okay. Really. You’ve apologized. I’ve accepted it. And I had a whole half-hour-long boat ride to let it sink in.” Because that’s what adults did in situations like this. They got over things. They didn’t let themselves fall into a cute guy’s arms and cry, no matter how stressed, worried and tired they felt.

She turned toward the woods. Branches were broken along the path that led to the campsite. Whoever had stopped by the island had also done some exploring while they were here. There was an arrow imbedded in the tree ahead of her. Slim, vicious, with jagged metal in the head. A titanium hunter’s arrow. She grit her teeth and yanked it out of the wood. “Looks like our trespasser is also a hunter, and decided to use the trees for target practice.”

Luke snorted. “Well, that’s a super-expensive arrow for someone to go shooting into trees on a little island like this. That’s the kind of gear you’d expect from someone who’d just dropped a few thousand bucks on a high-tech compound bow because they figured they’d go illegally bag a few bears or moose.”

She blinked. He was absolutely right. But she hardly expected Luke to know that. “You know archery?”

“Now I do.” He stepped closer and looked down at the arrow in her hands. “Been taking lessons for years and brought my bow up just in case I got the chance to shoot a few at your range on the mainland. I didn’t actually know the first thing about archery back when you knew me before. Just pretended I did to impress you. But the way you used to talk about it left me itching to try it. Even learned enough woodworking to make my very own recurve bow.”

Her heart stopped. She’d been huge into woodwork that summer, too, and had spent days carving him something special. She could still remember the pounding in her chest when she’d handed him the wooden animal she’d carved. Not to mention her devastation when she’d run to their meeting spot the next day to find it empty and wondered if her clumsy attempt at a gift had been what scared him off. Despite everything her brain might say, her heart could remember it like yesterday.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His chest was so close she could almost see his breath rise and fall. The raincoat he’d grabbed from the boat still hung open. The shirt underneath was almost soaked through. “Look, I know you said you’re okay to just head off alone. But I can tell you’re upset. I can see it in your eyes. I get you’re just being professional about everything and I really respect that. But don’t feel like you have to put on a brave face around me. We used to tell each other everything, Nicky. We used to be friends. If there’s anything I can do, I want to help.”

She bit her lip. The memory of his arms wrapped around her swept through her core like a visceral ache. Yeah, she wanted a hug. No, she wasn’t about to let him give it. “No, Luke. I used to tell you everything. I was honest with you. That apparently never cut both ways.” She sighed. “And it was probably a mistake to let you come along.”

She tossed the arrow onto the beach and strode up the hill.

* * *

He watched her go, feeling his gut sink into the sand at his feet.

He’d hurt her. Badly.

Did she honestly believe everything they’d shared back then had been a lie? Yes, he’d only given her a nickname and he’d hidden where he was from—both rotten things to have done. But everything he’d felt for her and everything she’d meant to him had made it the most real and honest human connection he’d ever had in his life. Not that she was likely to ever believe that now.

His mind filled with memories of just a few hours earlier—her body crashing into his arms, relief filling his chest, the smell of her smoky hair as they fell backward onto the ground.

Thank You, God, that I actually did right by her, at least once in my life.

He grabbed a hunk of driftwood and threw it hard into the bushes. It wasn’t as though things would be any better if he told her the whole story. He’d been a petty thief and a runaway, sleeping in an abandoned cabin and scrounging whatever he could steal. The last time they’d met, he’d realized they’d grown too emotionally close and he hadn’t wanted to risk getting caught. So he’d broken into George’s office and tried to steal the camp’s cash box. George had caught him and carted him off to the police to spend the night in a jail cell. Then, the next morning, the first man of God he’d ever met had come back, given him the cash box money for his bail, let him detox off drugs on his couch and helped him by offering him a chance to earn himself a life he could be proud of.

And I did everything in my power to pay him back for that, every chance I got.

The sound of Nicky running through the woods faded to silence. He had a pretty good guess about what would happen if he told her all that. Her walls would fall and her heart would overflow with compassion. She’d always been far more caring than a jerk like him had deserved.

He didn’t deserve her sympathy. And she deserved better than him.

A scream split the air. Loud. Terrified.

“Nicky!” He ran toward the noise. Branches struck his body. His heart smacked hard in his chest. Her screams seemed to come from all directions at once. Then the wall of trees gave way to a clearing and a ring of tent platforms on cinder-block bases.

Nicky was down in the dirt, her face pressed into the ground. A figure stood over her. The man’s form was lost in hunting fatigues and a green balaclava. A compact hunter’s compound bow hung on a strap across his back. With one hand the hunter clenched the back of her head. With the other he pressed the tip of a knife against her throat. She looked over at Luke. Tears poured down her cheeks.

Dear God, please don’t let him hurt her. Help me save her.

Thunder rumbled in the skies above them. Luke held Nicky’s gaze, steady and solid. “It’s going to be okay, Nicky. I promise.” The determination to keep her safe pulsed through his veins. It had been a long time since Luke had found himself at the wrong end of a criminal’s knife. But the instincts that he’d once learned as a teenaged runaway had never left him. Luke turned to face her captor. His hands rose in front of him. His palms were open. But his body was tensed for a fight, if it came to that. “Let her go and no one needs to be hurt.”

Silence filled the clearing—punctuated only by the sound of Nicky’s ragged breath and the light patter of rain. The hunter’s grip loosened just enough that she could crawl on her hands and knees, then he yanked Nicky’s head back. She winced, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of whimpering. Her eyes hadn’t left Luke’s face for a moment.

Luke stepped forward. “This is your last warning.” His fingers tightened into fists. “You so much as bruise her skin and I will take you down.”

Lightning flashed and then the skies opened. Heavy rain pelted the ground. The man tossed his head back and laughed. Nicky kicked back hard. Her heel caught her captor hard in the gut. Luke charged. He caught the masked man by the throat and tossed him to the ground. Within seconds the hunter had sprung back to his feet. The knife blade flashed in his hand. But before Luke could even raise his hand to land a blow, the man took off running through the woods.

For half a second Luke watched him go, fighting the urge to chase him down. Instead, he dropped to his knees beside Nicky. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m okay.” She raised her face toward him. Her hair fell tangled and wild over her face. Rain and tears ran mingled down her cheeks. “I don’t even know what happened. I walked into the campsite and he just jumped me from behind.”

He helped her to her feet. Nicky’s fingers ran down her muddy limbs as if she was taking inventory. “I didn’t even think he wanted to hurt me at first. It was more like he wanted to scare me. But when he laughed at you like that—”

The roar of an engine filled the air.

“No!” Nicky took off running through the trees. Luke pelted after her. The forest gave way to a slab of granite rock. In the water below, a small boat was speeding away from the island. She sank to her knees. “He just stole our boat.”

FOUR

“The keys were in the ignition.” The words slipped through her lips and into the pouring rain as little more than a sigh of frustration. It had never even crossed her mind the trespasser might still be on the island. Let alone that he’d attack her and steal their boat.

“It’s going to be okay.” Luke squeezed her shoulder. His fingertips touched just below her shoulder blade. It was the kind of simple gesture that would seem natural coming from a close friend or colleague. But as Luke’s fingers brushed her aching muscles she could feel her body relax. There’d always been something about the simplest touch of his hand that had made her feel safe. Back when she’d been young enough to think she needed a guy in her corner and foolish enough to believe it would be him.

Another flash of lightning forked through the sky, followed by the rumble of thunder.

“Of course we’re going to be fine.” She gripped the hood of her raincoat with both hands and pulled it up briskly. “The Hunter obviously got here in some kind of boat. Canoe probably. Maybe a kayak. All we have to do is find it and use it to get back to the mainland. The first priority, though, is getting off this rock. We don’t want to get caught out either on the lake or in the trees while there’s a risk of lightning. Fortunately this island has caves.”

They picked their way back through the empty campground and then hiked through the forest into the center of the island. Finally they reached a place where a gaping hole cut deep into the side of the rock. They stepped into the mouth of the cave and out of the rain.

Luke glanced into the darkness. “How deep does it go?”

“Pretty deep. But it also gets really steep and narrow. We boarded it up a few yards in to stop anyone from going too far. Rumor is, though, if you go deep enough you’ll eventually come out somewhere on the coast.”

“You’ve never tried?”

“Never wanted to. It’s pitch-black down there and turns into almost a sheer drop.” She shivered. Sometimes they’d take campers right up to the barrier and turn off their flashlights, just so they could experience how dark the world could be.

Luke leaned back against the damp, stone wall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think for a moment that whoever I saw running into the trees back on the mainland would ever come to the island and threaten you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Why would you?”

“Because I saw a man in hunting fatigues outside the lodge when it was on fire, and then one attacks you here now. You don’t see an obvious connection there?”

She sighed. Just because she used to buy his stories, didn’t mean she was just going to agree with whatever theories he came up with now. “A lot of people wear hunting fatigues up here. It’s like someone from the city seeing two people in suits in the same day.”

“But you can’t discount the possibility someone is actually trying to hurt you or Camp Spirit. Look, if the person running through the trees is linked to this, he might have been heading to Ace Sports Resort—”

“Or to the highway. Or to someone’s cottage. Or it could’ve just been another trespasser. We do get a lot of them.” Including apparently you.

Nicky slid down the wall and sat on the floor. “Neil is very competitive and I don’t like how he runs the place, but that doesn’t make him a criminal. Also, I don’t see how the lodge catching fire and a trespasser on the island could be connected. Two very different things happened in two completely different places.”

“On the same day.” Luke sat opposite her. “I just think it’s too convenient to be a coincidence, don’t you?”

“You sound like a reporter.” She reached behind her neck and parted her hair down the middle. Then she twisted each half around her fingers to wring out the water. A deep, soft chuckle coaxed her eyes back to his face. “What’s so funny?”

Luke looked down. “Sorry. Just seeing you do that gave me a flash of déjà vu. I always remember you having these long, curly pigtails, and you were always fiddling with them. It was cute.”

She paused, her fingers still in her hair. Did he remember how he used to take her pigtails in his hands and gently tug her toward him until her lips met his? She stuffed her hands into her pockets. Well, she wasn’t that girl anymore. “Grab any dry leaves or twigs if you can. I’m going to build a fire and see about drying us out.”

There were waterproof matches in her jacket. It didn’t take too long before they had a fledgling fire burning. Flames crackled softly. A long pause spread between them punctuated by the sound of rain lashing the trees, thunder sounding in the distance and the drip of water running down the cave.

“You sure our best option is to look for the Hunter’s boat?” Luke asked. “There’s no chance someone will come looking for us?”

“No.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. George would’ve. But the only other person on-site now is Trevor, and he probably won’t realize there’s something wrong until sometime tomorrow. Have you ever met him?”

“Trevor?” Luke turned his face toward the sheet of rain. “Years ago.”

“Well, Trevor’s just kicking around for a few weeks, trying to scrounge up enough to go traveling again. He’s the kind of guy who hates the idea of being tied down to anything.” She frowned. “I can’t imagine him keeping the place after George is gone.”

Luke nodded slowly. “Is it possible that he had something to do with all this?”

“Trevor? No!” First Neil, now Trevor? Was he still beating the bushes for random suspects? “Look, Trevor knows he’s going to inherit this whole place—mainland and island—from George one day. As Trevor likes to keep reminding us, the camp may be struggling, but the land is worth a lot. He keeps pushing his dad to invest in things that push the property value up. Setting dangerous fires that could’ve destroyed the forest and allowing scary trespassers who could randomly attack strangers are exactly the kinds of thing that do the opposite of that. Now, if George and Trevor had any enemies who wanted to both see the camp fail and the land become unsellable, that would be different.”

“Like someone at Ace Sports?”

They were back to suspecting Neil again? She rolled her eyes. This was the problem with random theories. Suddenly everyone was a suspect, whether it was logical or not.

Luke pulled his raincoat off and spread it on the ground. His shirt was so wet it almost looked as though someone had painted it across his chest. He rolled up his sleeves and undid the top buttons of his shirt.

She tried not to stare at how the firelight danced along his skin. Her eyes slowly traced the snakelike scar cutting into his skin. She jumped to her feet. “I don’t believe it. You even lied to me about your scar.”

“I did what?” His face was blank.

She leaned forward and pointed at the puckered white line that gashed across his perfect golden chest. “You told me that you’d been bitten by a dog, and I believed you, just like I believed every other lie. But I’ve seen enough camp injuries over the years to distinguish one kind of scar from another.” Her fingers brushed the edge of his shirt. “That’s a burn.”

* * *

He winced as he watched the sting of betrayal fill her eyes. Well, of course he’d told her that. He’d been both too immature and frightened back then to even consider telling her the truth. Moments such as this made it hard to forgive himself for the man he used to be.

“Looks like you were just incapable of telling the truth about anything. How ironic you became a journalist.”

He leaped to his feet. “Nicky, wait—”

“The lightning has stopped, and we’ve got a boat to find.”

“Please. Let me explain.” He reached for her hand.

She pulled away. “What could you possibly say now that would make any of this okay? I cherished my happy memories of you. Don’t you get that? Even though you’d left. Even though you’d hurt me, I could still look back and know that just once in my life I had a short, perfect, summer romance with an incredible guy. Something real and true, that nothing else ever compared with since.

“I told the story of you to so many heartbroken teenagers who needed to know that they’d get over their first breakup, too. But now you’ve just turned up and trashed every good memory I had. You’ve erased any good feelings I was able to have looking back. Part of me almost wishes you’d just left me with my happy memories, whether they were true or not.” She turned to the rain. “Yes, I do forgive you. I’ll be professional about this weekend and I get that right now we’re in this mess together. But as far as the past is concerned, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Fine. Then just look.” He pulled his shirt open, feeling the buttons pop one by one. Then he slowly peeled his arm out of the sleeve. She gasped as her gaze traced the labyrinth of burn scars running down his chest and shoulders.

“What happened?” Her voice brushed softly through the dark air. The cave walls seemed to shrink around them.

“Boiling water. My mom said she spilled it by accident, but I don’t really know. I was pretty little at the time, and my mom spent most of my childhood drunk. So it’s hard to know what to believe.”

Her fingers slid through his. “I’m sorry. How did your dad—?”

“Never met him. Which was a good thing.” His voice sounded gruff. She was so close now he could almost feel her untamed hair brushing against his jaw. Had he pulled her toward him without realizing it? Or was she the one who’d drawn closer to him?

“Look, I’m genuinely sorry that I hurt you. I wish I could turn back time and undo every lie I ever told. When you met me I was nothing but a runaway teen with a criminal record for shoplifting and petty theft, hiding out in an abandoned cabin. Definitely not a camp counselor, let alone at Ace Sports.” The back of his fingers touched her cheek. “You listened to me, Nicky. You prayed for me. You were the first decent, kind person I’d ever met in my life. I repaid you with lies, and I didn’t have a clue how to love you. Not like how you loved me. But leaving you was the kindest thing I could’ve done, and I don’t regret it.”

She stepped back. A light flickered in the woods. Then a bright flashlight beam swung across her face, just long enough for Luke to see the deep pain echoing in her eyes.

“Hello? Nicky?” The voice was male, young and uncertain. “You out here?”

“Trevor? Yeah! Yeah, we’re here!” She glanced back toward Luke. Then she ran out into the storm.

FIVE

The Friday morning sun beat down against the surface of the lake. Luke stood on the hill on the edge of Ace Sports’ property. He watched as a lithe, dark-haired figure in jeans and a plaid shirt arranged canoes down the beach, their bows jutting out into the water. He sighed and pulled out his cellphone. Thankfully, he was still in range to use Ace Sports’ Wi-Fi signal.

Nicky had barely said two words to him last night after Trevor had rescued them. To anyone else it would’ve probably looked as though she was just relieved George’s son had taken the initiative to come looking for her and was in a hurry to file a police report about the stolen boat. Not to mention exhausted. But even through her relief, he’d seen just how tightly she’d pressed her lips together and how she hadn’t once looked his way. Well, he was sorry if he’d destroyed her fantasy of what they’d once had, but the truth was leaving her then had been the right thing to do.

His phone began to ring. It was Jack Brooks, Torchlight’s most tenacious crime reporter and a solid friend. “Hey! How goes the book tour? As glamorous as they say?”

“Sure.” Jack laughed. “If your idea of glamor is drinking coffee in a highway hotel while your fiancée’s half a country away planning your wedding. Got your voice mail. I thought you were in a forest this weekend?”

Cars were pulling into Camp Spirit’s parking lot. Luke watched as Nicky left the beach and strode up to greet them. “I am. Arrived yesterday. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Luke quickly filled his colleague in on both the fire and what had happened on the island.

Jack whistled. “So obviously you think there’s a connection between the fire and this hunter guy?”

Relief spread over Luke’s shoulders. It felt good to hear someone else say it! This is exactly why he knew he’d been right to call a fellow reporter. “Yeah, I do. But the police don’t and Nicky doesn’t. I don’t even know for sure the man I saw running away from the lodge is the same man who jumped us on the island. Honestly, I was half expecting you to tell me I was crazy.”

Jack’s chuckle echoed down the phone line. “I’ve been there.” Not that long ago Jack’s gut and his fiancée’s tenaciousness had been the only things standing between innocent lives and a ruthless serial killer.

“It’s not exactly helping matters that I’ve got a bit of a history with the current camp director, Nicky, and it’s not pretty. We had a thing back in the day, and I’m not proud of how it ended.” Luke ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I still don’t know why it mattered so much to George that I came up this weekend.” There were five new vehicles in the parking lot now. Even from a distance he could spot a few familiar faces, including a local politician. “Tabitha Grey just arrived.”

Jack chuckled. “Hoping for a weekend of glamor camping no doubt.”

Luke grinned. Tabitha was striking woman in her late fifties, with a mane of stylishly coifed red hair. She was with a curvy, much younger woman with the same flame red hair. The younger woman pulled two bags from their trunk. Tabitha’s teenaged daughter perhaps?

A large man with a huge white handlebar moustache stepped out of an old pickup with Lake Huron Sports on the side—owner Russ Tusk, probably. There was also a man with a battered fedora whose face he couldn’t see, and two young men with huge mops of brown curly hair—twins by the look of it. Then a large blue van with a grizzly bear on the side pulled in. “Big Bear Construction is here, too.”

Torchlight News had a pile of unproved allegations about Frances “Bear” Wane’s shady dealings and illegal shenanigans almost three inches thick. But with the exception of one dismissed lawsuit where he allegedly waved a handgun at his workers, Torchlight had never managed to dig up enough concrete proof to run the story.

“I’m guessing I’ve got about twenty minutes before I’ve got to get down there,” Luke added. “Last thing I want is Nicky thinking I’ve bailed on her again. Then I’ve got no internet or phone until Sunday. Can you do me a favor and get someone at Torchlight to text me any background I should know about Tabitha Grey, Russ Tusk of Lake Huron Sports and ‘Bear’ of Big Bear Construction?”

“I’m on it.”

A breeze rustled the trees behind him. A suspicion nagged at the back of his mind. “For that matter, Nicky obviously doesn’t like the owner of Ace Sports Resort, Neil Pryce, and the only other person I know was around the camp is George’s son, Trevor Dale.”

“Got it.” Keyboard keys clicked furiously. “So you’re still going on the camping trip?”

“I’m not even sure I have a choice.” Luke said. “George asked me to and somebody needs to have Nicky’s back.” Whether she likes it or not. “If it were up to me, they’d either cancel this trip or send along some kind of security or police. I don’t have your investigative skills. I’m just a sport’s reporter.” Not to mention a former runaway with a history of petty crime. Being back in the local police station last night had stirred up some uncomfortable memories.

Jack snorted. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. A sport’s guy who just happens to have razor-sharp reflexes. I keep telling you that you should volunteer to coach something at the community center—”

“And I keep telling you, I’m the last guy anyone’s going to want as a role model.”

“So you say,” Jack said. “Just give yourself some credit. Nicky could do worse than you coming along.”

People were leaving the parking lot and following Nicky and Trevor down the trail to the waterfront. The young curvy redhead was near the back of the pack. As Luke watched, one of the twins—black shirt, blue bandanna—ran past her and pressed something into her hand. She slid it into her bag without even looking at it. No one else had seemed to notice, but Luke had spent enough time on the streets to recognize a handoff when he saw one.

“Still there?” Jack’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just thought I saw some kind of handoff between two of the young ones.”

“Drugs?”

He rolled his jaw. “Really hope not.”

“You want my advice?” Jack said. “Go camping, keep your eyes open and don’t stop praying. Trust that if God wants you to see something, or do something, you’ll know.”

Luke picked up his rucksack and prayed. Dear Lord, please may he be right.

* * *

The smell of the forest hung heavy in the air and mingled with the scent of ashes. The lodge’s hollowed-out shell stood like a shadow behind the beach. Nicky tucked a defiant wisp of brown hair back into her bun and jabbed it down hard with a bobby pin. Every one of the potential donors had arrived—except Luke. Well, if he didn’t show, that was on him. The last thing she was going to do was waste another moment of her life waiting around for him.

She watched as Trevor fitted the men and women with life jackets and then showed them how to find the right size paddle. Boney knees jutted out from under Trevor’s plaid shorts as if his joints were trying to escape through his skin, and there was too much gel in his white-blond hair. But his lanky stance and tone was so much like George’s it was uncanny. She’d never known the young man to be so thorough. Maybe his dad being in the hospital had kicked some sense into him. After all, he had come to rescue her last night.

A tall shadow fell over the path. A smile crossed her lips. She turned, expecting to see Luke. It was Neil. Ace Sport’s director sauntered down the beach in between Trevor and the potential sponsors, smiling and nodding at each one as he went. “Please don’t let me interrupt.”

Trevor hesitated then went back to talking about canoe safety. Neil sidled up behind her. His fingertips slid over the edge of her clipboards and down over the list of campers. He whistled softly. “Wow, that’s quite a turnout. Russ Tusk is one of our favorite gear suppliers. Bear Wanes is building a new gym for us this year. Even Tabitha Grey! You know she cut the ribbon at the opening of our new pool? I’m guessing the twins would be David and Aaron Elliot of Up Start? That’s a website that helps young people find volunteer and job opportunities, right?”

Nicky turned her clipboard over. “What do you want?”

One hand slid on her shoulder. He pulled her back a couple of steps away from the group. “Just here to see if you need anything, doll.”

She snorted and shrugged him off. Yeah, as if she was about to fall for his nonsense today.

The rival camp director raised both hands. “Hey, I just figured that with George in the hospital and your camp locked down, you might appreciate a spare pair of hands this weekend. I can be pretty handy, you know. Come on, we both know Trevor is an all right guy to have a good time with, but he’s hardly the kind of solid camp professional you need for a trip like this.”

Her back stiffened. True, Neil was hardly telling her something she hadn’t thought herself more times than she could count. But she’d take Trevor’s laziness and unreliability over Neil’s slimy attempts to weasel his way into this trip and steal their sponsors any day. “Spoken like a true ‘Acer.’ Either someone’s the best or they’re worthless.”

“Look, all joking and rivalry aside, you are a solid camp instructor, Nicky. With skills like yours...” Neil shook his head. “Off the record, you’re more than qualified to be a member of Ace Sports’ staff team. You know how rare that is for me to admit about anyone.”

Did he actually mean that as a compliment? Telling her she was good enough for his shiny, obnoxious camp? As if she’d ever doubted she was every bit the athlete as those sparkly, spandex-clad gym nuts that Ace filled its ranks with each summer.

“Our facilities rival any camp in the continent,” he went on. “And you know, when it comes to campers, we attract some of the best, most talented young people from across the country...”

She tossed her head. “Wow, you must be desperate to derail our sponsorship trip if you’re trying to tempt me to quit just as we’re about to set sail. But fortunately for all those campers who aren’t up to your stellar standards, not to mention not having Ace Sports’ kind of money, Camp Spirit has always been happy to take on people who still need a little work and don’t see their ability to toss a ball as something to laud over others.”

Neil stepped back. “Believe it or not, I’m actually trying to help you. I’m not going to apologize for being the only one in your life man enough to point out that you’re too good for a ragtag place like this.” His eyes narrowed. “I just hope that you’re smart enough to face the facts before an old man’s dying dream ends up dragging you down with it.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.