Mountain Fire (16 page)

Alex nodded. “I thought of that, too.”

“There’s any number of good reasons for Richard to be out in the back country,” she speculated. “After all, he loves the land, the wildlife. He’s so passionate about it! And even if they did have a gun, it could have been for safety. It’s never smart to go into the bush without protection.” She stopped herself when she realized how shrill and desperate she sounded. She breathed in deeply, blew out lightly. “This is all moot, anyway, because I’ve seen the paperwork. Richard was in Vancouver that weekend.”

Alex spoke, his voice as soft as the fingers sweeping through her hair. “I know you admire the man. But be honest. You’re thinking what I’m thinking...there’s a possibility that Fleetham was in the area the same weekend that grizzly was poached.”

She brushed the bangs out of her eyes with a jerky movement. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “I won’t believe it. You don’t know what he’s like. There’s no way Richard could be involved in poaching.” The idea made her insides clench. “There’s got to be another explanation. I’ll have to ask.”

“Ask what?” His hand tightened on her shoulder, forcing her to face him. Gone was the gentle understanding. In its place was cold professionalism. “Ask him if he’s a criminal? I don’t think so.”

“I’ll be more subtle than that,” she said tartly. “All I have to do is ask Richard an innocuous question about his trip to Vancouver. I’ll say I need a receipt or something. Then we’ll know for sure he couldn’t have been on the mountain.”

Alex rose from the couch, grabbed his boxers and yanked them on. “June, don’t do that. Leave this to me. If I ask the questions, it’s coming in an official capacity.”

“But that makes it worse! If I ask, Richard won’t know we ever thought about it. I’d never be able to look him in the eye again if he discovered we’d ever considered him a poacher. If you ask, he’ll know exactly what we’re thinking.”

He seized her elbows and pulled her to her feet, lifting her up onto her toes. She clutched the blanket around her, feeling foolish and defenceless in her near nakedness.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe Fleetham has nothing to do with the poaching. But if you’re wrong, if he is involved, he is also involved in Iain’s death.” He shook her gently but emphatically. “We’re not just talking about a poaching ring. We’re talking about murder.” She flinched at the word. “Please, don’t do anything. Let me take care of it. Or better yet, someone else from the Ministry, or the RCMP. That way, there will be no connection to you at all.”

Her icy fingers gripped the blanket between her breasts. “All right,” she said, giving in. “I won’t talk to him. But you’ve got to take care of this fast. I can’t go into work next week, wondering if I’ve got a murderer for a boss.”

He grazed her forehead with his lips. “I will. I’m going into the office now, get the ball rolling. I’ll call you.” He quickly finished dressing, gave her an absent-minded kiss, and was gone.

****

Despite their combined efforts, neither the Ministry nor the RCMP was able to track down Richard during the weekend. June spent most of the time making busy work for herself, as even vacuuming and dusting was better than obsessing over what was going on with the investigation.

When she spoke to Alex late on Sunday evening, he sounded tired and frustrated.

“We’re all set to do the interview. I talked with Sean and got the names of his buddies. It took a while for us to get a hold of them, and then they weren’t much help. Neither of them had seen anyone, although they did say Sean mentioned seeing the other men when he came back from getting the beer, so there is some confirmation at least. I coordinated with the RCMP, and they’ve been in touch with the conference organizers in Vancouver. We got lucky there, and found someone in the office even though it’s a weekend. But that’s where our progress ends. The problem is Fleetham wasn’t a guest speaker at the conference, he was a regular delegate, and there was no formal registration after the first day, which was a Wednesday. That gives Fleetham plenty of time to get back to Prince George by the supposed sighting on the weekend. The best way to confirm is to ask Fleetham for the names of people who might have seen him there. And as we can’t get a hold of him, we’re at an impasse. We’ve left messages for him everywhere, but he’s not getting back to us.”

June absently licked her thumb and swabbed at a smudge on the window as she stood, gazing out onto the street. “His schedule’s in the system at RiverForce. I suppose I could check it out for you.” She felt torn, unwilling to believe Richard was involved, but wanting to find out for sure so the investigation could move on.

“There’s no need to do anything tonight. We’ve done all we can, and without more evidence there isn’t much urgency from either the Ministry or the police.”

She heard him stifle a yawn, and guilt jabbed her. He was doing his job, was doing what needed to be done to find a criminal, but resentment bubbled in her whenever he spoke of his suspicions.

With a conscious effort, she said warmly, “I’ll go in early tomorrow. If he gets in touch with you before I do, there’s no harm done. And if not, maybe I’ll be able to help.”

“I appreciate it.” He went on after a slight pause. “I understand this must be difficult for you. I don’t know Fleetham like you do, but the little I’ve seen of him, on the news and such, I’ve been impressed. That’s why we have to do this, to clear him of any possible involvement. I hope you realize that.”

June sighed. “I’m trying to. Honestly, I’m trying to.”

After a restless night, she rose early, and was at the RiverForce office well before eight. She resolutely refused to believe Richard had anything to do with a criminal enterprise, but she understood Alex had to follow up any lead, however slight. She powered on the computer and impatiently waited for it to boot up, then called up Richard’s schedule on the internal server. She phoned Alex on his cell and caught him as he was leaving home.

“According to his calendar, Richard should be in the office today.” She clicked backward through the dates. “It looks like he was here on Thursday—he had a meeting with Thomas, that fellow from RiverForce I told you about before—and he’s got a meeting with a couple of grad students at eleven this morning. But it doesn’t say anything about where he was this weekend.”

“I’ll let the office know. If we can’t get him on the phone I think we’ll send a team to wait for him. How long will you be there?”

“A couple of hours. I’m still retyping Fleetham’s speeches, and we’re supposed to have our monthly meeting next Sunday night. I need to prepare for that.”

“I won’t be part of the team interviewing Fleetham, but I’ll let you know how it goes. Keep your head down, okay?”

“I will. This is so hard. The waiting, I mean. I want it to be over.”

“It will be soon, I promise.”

****

June concentrated intently on her work, putting aside any worries about the investigation, and came up for air around ten o’clock, craving a coffee. She bought a latte at the kiosk in the hall and stepped out into the Agora. Sitting against the wall, she basked in the heat reflecting off the stone exterior.

A voice trilled her name, and she turned her head to see all the magnificent glory of Tabitha Scala bearing down. She was resplendent in an emerald green tunic, black leggings and knee-high red leather boots. Her usual assortment of beads and bangles glittered and glimmered around her neck and wrists, and her mane of chestnut hair hung loose over her shoulders. “June!” she repeated delightedly. “How are you?”

It was impossible not to appreciate the sight. “I love your outfit.”

Tabitha waved a dismissive hand, bracelets jingling musically. “Are you sure you’re all right? You are rather pale.”

“It’s been a rough few days.” And today would likely be no better.

“Of course it has, sweetie. I can’t stop thinking about that poor man. And how easily it could have been your fellow! If they hadn’t switched their on call days, it might have been him.”

“Stop it.” June snapped. “A man was killed, was murdered. Isn’t that enough? Do you have to be so...so ghoulish about it?”

Tabitha pressed a be-ringed hand against her breast, a wounded look on her face. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

June took a mental pace back from the edge of her anger. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

“You know what you need? You need a holiday.” Tabitha nodded, immensely pleased at the idea. “You should get out of the city. Where did you go recently? Where you met your young man?”

“Longworth Mountain.”

“Yes, Longworth Mountain. You should go back there for a few days.”

“You know,” June said thoughtfully, “that’s an excellent idea.”

“If you’re going to go, don’t delay.” Tabitha reached down and patted the top of her head as if she was an obedient puppy. “A few days will do you a world of good, I’m sure.” She swooped away in a swirl of musky scent and clinking jewelry.

June headed home shortly after her conversation with Tabitha. Every minute after eleven seemed to last an hour, but a little while before noon her phone rang. She snatched it off the kitchen table.

“He didn’t show.” Alex’s voice was clipped with frustration. “The team was there at ten-forty-five a.m., and they sat and waited along with the grad students he was scheduled to meet. About eleven-fifteen a.m., Richard called his secretary. She told him he had people waiting for him, and that the Ministry had been trying to get a hold of him all weekend. He said he would be in touch as soon as was convenient, but he wouldn’t be in today. She tried to find out where he was. He hung up without answering.”

June’s stomach muscles knotted together. “That doesn’t sound good, does it?”

Alex spoke gravely. “The more he avoids us, the worse it appears. If he doesn’t have anything to hide, there’s no reason for him not to come forward.”

Later that evening, as they lounged on her couch, red wine in hand, jazz on the speakers, she broached the idea of spending a few days at Longworth.

“Absolutely not,” Alex said.

She’d expected a discussion. Not this uncompromising attitude. “Excuse me?”

“The last thing I need right now is to be worrying about you, out in the middle of nowhere.” His brows lowered in a frown. “Worse than that. You’d be right in the middle of the area where a poaching ring is operating. A poaching ring with at least one member not afraid to commit murder.”

She reached out to smooth away the worry lines on his forehead. “I need to get away. I can’t stand the suspense, the not knowing. I could barely work today.”

“I agree, it might be best if you stayed away from the university for a few days. But you’re not going to Longworth Mountain. And certainly not alone.” He twisted away from her, putting space between them. “If I had the time I’d go with you, but there’s no way I can leave the office now.”

June’s eyes narrowed. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

He smacked down his glass, sloshing wine over the rim. “You think Iain couldn’t? But he’s dead. Dead, June!” He jerked to his feet. “I don’t know why, but you’re in this up to your neck. You’ve been attacked twice. I’d feel a lot better if we could get our hands on Fleetham. But we haven’t, and I don’t think you should be alone. You should move in with me.” He hurled the last words at her.

Her heart stuttered. She licked suddenly dry lips. “You want me to move in with you?”

“Just until all this is settled.” His mouth was flat and uncompromising. She might have accepted if he had made the offer differently. But not when it was given so grudgingly.

“I am not going into hiding.” She stood and faced him across the coffee table, lifting her chin. “I am not going to live my life scared to do what I love, what I need to do for my own sanity. You were threatened, too. Are you going to lock yourself in your house?”

He flung his hands up and spun on his heel to stare out the window. “Of course not.”

“Well, I won’t either.”

Chapter Fourteen

Not much had changed in the three weeks or so since June had last been up Longworth Mountain, despite the fact so much seemed to have changed in the world below. The leaves were fuller on the trees, the bushes more robust, but the air was as sweet and fresh.

When she locked her truck and headed up the mountain, she was afraid she wouldn’t experience the sense of peace she normally did. It was a great relief to find the silence held its usual healing power. She paused whenever she wanted, to breathe in the mountain’s perfume of rock and pine or listen to the music of songbirds and the chatter of squirrels. Once at the lookout, she performed her usual routines to make sure she wasn’t going to be sharing it with any four-legged visitors. When she pulled the makeshift lid off the rain barrel, she discovered a scant amount of brackish water, evidence of the continuing hot, dry weather.

The bright day faded to black night. She embraced the solitude.

Lying on the plywood bed, arms folded behind her head, she smiled ruefully to herself. She’d wanted to get to know Alex better, and she was certainly doing so. His vehement reaction to her plan still shocked her.

Last night, after she had bluntly repeated her intention of going out alone, silence stretched between them. She’d watched his reflection in the window. His eyes were hooded and dark, and she couldn’t read his thoughts. After aching minutes, he turned to her.

“Fine. You do what you have to do.” The words slashed, sharp and steely. “And so will I.” He stomped through the door, snapping it shut behind him.

She’d sent him a text message when she left the house that morning. By the time she lost cell service on her drive out, he had yet to reply. It was difficult to believe he was too busy to send a ten second text. Obviously he hadn’t worked off his mad.