Against the Wild (17 page)

All three men stood up from their chairs. “We cannot help you,” Jacob Payuk said flatly.

Dylan rose as well, anger and frustration humming through him. He had uncovered the hoax, but there was no way to know what else the perpetrators might do. Lane and Caleb joined him as he made his way to the door.

He paused when he reached it. “You're leaving me no choice. If we have more problems, I'll have to go to the authorities. If you don't want to see someone end up in jail, at least put the word out. I don't want anyone getting hurt, and I think we all know that could happen.”

Jacob hesitated, flicked a glance at his brother, then looked back at Dylan and nodded. “We will tell our people what you have said. We do not wish to bring trouble to our homes.”

He felt a trickle of relief. “Thank you.” The elders wouldn't intervene on their behalf, but at least they would put out a warning.

With any luck, the guilty parties would accept the fact their hoax had been discovered and get on with their lives. Dylan damned well hoped so.

He just wished he could make himself believe it.

The crew was back on the job, had been for the past few days. Lane hadn't seen anyone on the deck or prowling the grounds at night. By Thursday, she was beginning to relax, and some of the tension seemed to have faded from Dylan's shoulders. Maybe Jacob Payuk's warning had been enough to end the troubles at the lodge.

Trying to get as much done as possible before the long Fourth of July weekend, she and Dylan were both hard at work late that afternoon. The weeks had flown by so quickly Lane couldn't believe she had been in Alaska for almost a month. She couldn't afford more than a two-month hiatus from her business in L.A., but she'd figured it would be enough to finish the project and enjoy the much-needed break she had earned.

And in the early evenings, she had been able to paint. Lane smiled to think how quickly her skills were improving. Like riding a bicycle, she thought. Painting had become part of her DNA.

She looked down at the thick sample books on top of a two-foot stack. She had found the right fabric and ordered the sofa and chairs for the great hall. A brocade pattern in green velvet for the grouping in front of the fireplace, a style that looked old and interesting but was comfortable and long-wearing.

Rich dark leather would cover the sofa and chairs in a second conversation area. Bright throw pillows made of a heavy woven fabric in Art Deco geometric patterns and colors that would complement the Alaska Native artifacts would finish the look.

Seeing the wonderful pieces of artwork at Jacob Payuk's house had given her some fresh ideas about the accent pieces she would be putting on walls and setting in bookshelves, but today she was choosing the material required for the ten-foot draperies that would hang at the windows.

She was busily going through catalogs, trying to decide between a contrasting color or a matching shade of dark green when Caleb walked into the office.

“You seen Dylan?” he asked, a worried look on his face.

“He's upstairs checking with the guy who's installing the baseboard. I think he's trying to get a completion date. What's up?”

Caleb hesitated only a moment. They were becoming close friends. In a place as rural as Eagle Bay, everyone looked out for each other, and it didn't take long to form strong bonds.

“I've got to go to town. I got a call from Jenny. We were supposed to go out this weekend, but she phoned and canceled. When I asked her why, she started crying. Holly Kaplan called her. Fed Jenny a bunch of crap about the two of us being together. Now Jenny won't see me. I've got to talk to her.”

Dylan stood in the doorway, eavesdropping without a hint of guilt. “The person you need to talk to is Holly. If it's really over between you two, you need to tell her that in no uncertain terms.”

Caleb grunted. “It's over, all right. I might have been a little curious about her, but not anymore. The last thing I want in my life is a woman like Holly Kaplan.”

“We've got everything covered here. No new problems with the ghost or anyone else. Take whatever time you need to get this handled.”

“Thanks, Dylan.”

“No worries. I'll see you when you get back.”

“It might be tomorrow. I've got a couple of other things I need to do.” And no one liked to drive the narrow gravel road late at night. Better to grab a room at the Sea View Motel, or in Caleb's case, stay with a friend.

Lane almost smiled. If things worked out, maybe he'd be staying with Jenny.

Caleb waved over his shoulder as he walked out the door. Dylan headed back upstairs and Lane returned to her fabric samples. She'd been working about an hour when Emily walked into the office. She held up Finn's leash.

Lane smiled as she rose from her chair. “You want to take Finn for a walk?” She and Emily had a silent way of communicating that neither of them quite understood but somehow seemed to work. The little girl came over and took hold of Lane's hand. “Oh, I see. You want both of us to take him out.”

Emily shyly nodded.

A noise caught their attention. For the second time that afternoon, Lane looked up to see Dylan standing in the doorway. “It's a beautiful day,” he said, the look in his gorgeous blue eyes softening as they studied his daughter. “I think getting out a little is a great idea.”

Emily seemed uncertain, but Lane was sure spending time with her father was exactly what the little girl needed.

“I've got an idea,” Lane said brightly. “Why don't I grab some crackers and cheese, maybe a couple of apples, and some Cokes. We'll have a little picnic.” They'd had lunch earlier, but an afternoon snack wouldn't hurt anyone.

Dylan smiled. “Good idea. I'll find a blanket for us to sit on.”

Emily's uncertainty turned to excitement that had her hopping up and down. Lane grabbed the child's hand and led her to the door. “You go get Finn ready. I'll let Mrs. Henry know where we're going and get the food.”

Emily nodded vigorously and raced out into the hall, Finn's leash rattling as she rushed toward the side yard.

“There's a place I've been wanting to show you,” Dylan said. “It's not that far away. I think it would be great for a picnic.”

“I'd love to see it.”

They completed their tasks and met up in the side yard, Finn dancing around Emily, eager to get on the trail, a silly dog grin on his face.

Along with a blanket, the snacks Lane had collected were in the backpack Dylan wore slung over his impressive shoulders. Each of them carried a lightweight jacket.

“Let's get this show on the road,” Dylan said, smiling. Finn gave a joyous woof, and they were on their way.

Leaving the lodge behind, they walked single file along a narrow trail winding through the marsh grass and trees at the edge of the bay. They climbed over boulders and a few downed trees fallen across the path, but it was an easy hike. When Lane followed Dylan and Emily up the last rise, she could see for miles out over the ocean.

“So what do you guys think? You like this place?”

Lane's chest squeezed at the beauty. “It's perfect, Dylan.”

Emily's head went up and down, moving the dark, blunt-cut hair along her jaw. Dylan slung the backpack on the ground, took out the blanket, and spread it open on a flat, dry spot in the sun beside a big granite boulder.

Emily took Finn off his leash, and they raced toward the trees, Emily searching the ground for exactly the right throwing stick for the big dog to fetch.

“Don't go too far,” Dylan called after her. “Stay where I can see you.”

Emily gave him a quick wave and went back to her search. Dylan watched her a moment before joining Lane on the blanket. It was warm there, the rock blocking all but a slight ocean breeze. They busied themselves setting out the snacks, then Lane leaned back against the sun-warmed boulder.

“I think this must be what heaven is like,” she said, surveying the magnificent vistas around them.

Dylan's gaze followed hers, and for a moment he seemed lost in the beauty here, which was so all-consuming. He looked back at her and began to frown.

“Unfortunately, days like this are few and far between. Rain and cold are part of the price of living up here. Most people can't handle it.”

“I guess I'm lucky I live in sunny California.”

“In some ways, I guess.”

But she knew how much he loved Alaska. She also knew he was thinking about Mariah and Emily, and the disaster his marriage had been.

Lane glanced over to where the child played with Finn, patiently tossing the stick again and again, laughing at some of the big dog's antics as he tirelessly returned it and readied himself to play the game again.

Lane fixed her attention on the man sitting on the blanket across from her. “When you said that, you were talking about Mariah. You think her leaving is the reason Emily doesn't speak.”

“I'm sure it is.” He ran a hand over his face. “The whole thing is my fault. I never should have married her.”

“If you hadn't, you wouldn't have your daughter.”

His gaze found hers. “That's the only thing good that came out of it. The truth is, I drove my wife away. I should have moved back to Seattle the way she wanted. If I had, Mariah would still be alive, and Em wouldn't hate me.”

Shock rolled through her. “You think Emily hates you?”

His glance swung to where she played with the dog. “She blames me for her mother leaving. Now Mariah's dead and Emily won't talk to me. What other reason could there be?”

“I don't know. But I don't think she hates you. I see the way she looks at you when you aren't watching. There's this longing in her face. She doesn't hate you, Dylan. She loves you.”

He shook his head. “I don't know. Maybe. Whatever it is, I wish I could change it. I wish she'd talk to me.”

Lane reached for his hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Just make time for her. Like you are today. For now, that's all you can do.”

He nodded, came up with the trace of a smile.

Lane began setting out the snacks, including three big chocolate chip cookies that Winnie had sent for dessert. They called Emily over, and she plopped down next to them on the blanket. Finn dropped his stick beside her, looking hopeful.

“That's enough,” Lane said. “Go lie down.” The big dog cocked an ear, turned, trotted a few feet away, then dropped down on the warm, grassy earth. “That's a good boy.”

The food was delicious, not enough to stuff them too full for supper, but enough for an afternoon treat. As the wind came up and the temperature began to drop, they refilled the backpack and started back toward the lodge.

The path home seemed a little farther or maybe it was the extra food in their stomachs. Even Finn seemed ready to get home.

The lodge appeared ahead, but instead of walking faster, Dylan began to slow his steps. He walked off the trail to examine something Lane couldn't see.

“Go on,” he said. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Wondering what had snagged his attention, Lane watched his long strides carry him into the woods. “Come on, sweetie.” She took hold of Emily's hand. “We're almost home.”

As the lodge drew near, Lane could see the bedrooms on this side of the building, the deck sweeping around them, the stairs leading up from the ground below. She paused, her hand tightening around Emily's. She could see into the bedroom she and Dylan had been sharing, into the guest room next to it that she had been using since her arrival.

She let go of Emily's hand. “Go ahead, honey. Get Finn settled in his yard. Your dad and I will be there in a minute.”

The little girl dashed away, but Lane stayed on the trail waiting for Dylan. Her palms had begun to sweat and her heart was pumping too fast when he appeared a few minutes later, striding up the path with a fierce scowl on his face.

Lane hurried toward him. “He was here—wasn't he? The man on the deck. He's been watching us from somewhere nearby.”

He held up a few strands of greenish-brown thread. “I noticed this as we passed. It was caught on a bush.” It was nothing she would have noticed, but she didn't live in Alaska, didn't know how to track an animal, didn't hunt food for the table.

“There's a spot near the bottom of a pine tree. The grass is a little mashed down. Looks like an animal's been bedding down there, but it wasn't an animal.”

“Are you . . . are you sure?”

He glanced back the way he had come. “He was lying on his stomach, using binoculars. You can tell by the elbow marks.”

“Oh, my God.”

He caught her shoulders. “Look, it just means whoever has been bothering us still may want to cause trouble. It doesn't mean we're in any sort of danger.”

“I don't like it. We don't know who he is or what he's thinking—or even if there's more than one person.”

“You're right, and I don't like it, either. I'll call the police, tell them what's going on, but I'd rather do it in person. Saturday's the Fourth of July. That's only a day away. I was thinking maybe I'd fly us all over to Waterside. We could watch the parade, maybe even stay for the fireworks. I'll talk to the police while we're there.”

She nodded, trying to bring her worry under control. “All right, that sounds good. I'm sure Winnie would like to see the show, and I think Emily would love it.”

“She used to love the fireworks show they had in Juneau,” Dylan said with a note of regret. “We haven't watched them together since her mother took off.”

Lane managed to smile. “Then this is definitely a good idea. And maybe the police will have some idea who's behind all the trouble.”

Dylan's jaw hardened. “If they don't figure it out, I'll find out myself. I'm through waiting for something to happen. One way or another, this is all going to be over very soon.”

Lane took one look at the grim set of his features and knew he meant every word.

 

 

It was cloudy, looked as if a storm was moving in, by the time Caleb pulled his truck up in front of Jenny Larsen's small house a few blocks from the elementary school where she worked. The house, wood-frame with a covered porch, wasn't much, probably built in the forties.

But it sat on a knoll that looked out over the ocean and the views were spectacular. A white picket fence enclosed the front yard, where Jenny had planted yellow marigolds and purple iris and some pretty pink flowers he didn't know by name.

Caleb thought the place fit her perfectly.

He steeled himself for the less-than-friendly greeting he expected, opened the little white gate, and strode up onto the porch.

He rapped lightly and the ruffled curtains moved at the windows. She'd seen him, but he wasn't sure she would let him in. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door swung open.

“Hello, Caleb.”

“Hi, Jenny. Can I . . . uhh . . . come in? We need to talk.”