The Cardinal Divide (51 page)

“Permission to come aboard,
Captain
,” he barked to Ravenwing, who had stepped back into the pilothouse to crank up the fishing boat's powerful inboard motors.

“You know the way,” Ravenwing yelled, shaking his head.

The man, gaff still clenched in his hands, stepped onto the
Inlet Dancer
and grabbed the handrail on the side of the pilothouse for stability. Ravenwing engaged the throttle and the boats began to cut into the cresting waves again.

“What the hell were you doing out on a night like this?” Raven-wing said, his voice disappearing into the storm.

“I have my reasons.”

“They must have been good ones. Only a fool would venture out on a night like this.”

“Well, you're out.”

“I am. But everybody around here knows I'm a fool.”

The two men stood next to one another as the
Inlet Dancer
began west toward the mouth of Deep Water Cove.

“You said you took shelter. Where?

“I just set the throttle to keep abreast of the cove and waited for you.”

“I didn't see you.”

“I was there.”

“What happened to that nice
E
-Tec 115 you bought last year?”

“Don't know. Think I took on too much water. Washed it out. Maybe water in the fuel line. I couldn't get that thing going.”

Ravenwing looked at the man, who looked straight ahead, his face hidden by the bill of his cap, his body snug in an orange float coat.

“But you could use the 25 to keep abreast of this storm?”

“You're not the only one in this country who can pilot a boat, Archie.”

“Who's towing who?” Ravenwing spat. Then he sighed and said, “
OK
, let's see if we can't find a place to leave this tub for the night and make for home.” He looked at his sonar for the depth of the water beneath him and at his radar to read the shore for a safe harbour.

“You're still pissed at me,” the man said through the pelting rain.

“You done anything that would change my mind otherwise?”

“That's the thing with you, Archie. You hold everybody to such a high standard, we can never live up to your expectations.”

“That isn't true and you know it. But I do expect some common sense. And what you've done is beyond the pale. You know it, so don't play dumb with me. I know you got plenty of brains in that thick head of yours. You've got a responsibility.”

“You can be a real jackass, Archie.”

“Don't I know it? But at least I know when I've done something
wrong. I aim to fix it. You? I just never figured this sort of thing from you. But then I should have guessed this was coming.”

The man turned to regard Archie Ravenwing, who was watching his sonar, the
VHF
still crackling. He said, “Don't you think that your people deserve better? Don't you think that I deserve better?”

“Of course we do. Of course you do!” Archie's voice was coarse over the din. “So act that way. Act like you deserve better. Stop waiting around for someone to hand you things. Go out and get what you want.”

The man stepped back a few feet from Archie. “I'm goin' to.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear you say it....”

But Archie didn't finish the sentence. The gaff hook caught him in the side of his head, just above the ear, behind the softness of the temple. There was no sound to the blow over the din of the storm. The curved hook pierced Ravenwing's skull and he fell sideways and down, hard onto the pilothouse floor. There he lay as the water washed into the pilothouse. In the darkness the deep pool of blood from where the gaff pierced Ravenwing's skull was indiscernible from the dark water that sluiced on the deck of the
Inlet Dancer
.

The assailant dropped the gaff on top of the body and took control of the fishing boat. He pulled back on the throttle, easing the boat's speed, and turned off its running lights so it could not be seen. He set the wheel so the boat would veer into the inlet, toward more open water. He flipped open the seat top in the pilothouse and found what he was looking for – a short, stout bungee cord. He used it to secure the wheel of the boat so that it maintained its current course. There was no time to set the boat's autopilot.

The killer dropped to one knee, looked at the body of Archie Ravenwing on the deck of the boat – his eyes open, lifeless – and then dragged Ravenwing from the pilothouse onto the narrow aft deck, pulling him to the lee side gunnels and heaving him into the ocean. He threw the gaff hook overboard next.

The man took hold of the rope that connected the
Inlet Dancer
to the
Rising Moon
and reeled in the smaller craft. When the pleasure boat was close enough, he tied a clove hitch in the rope that connected the boats and fastened it to the aft cleat. Then he lowered himself onto the bow of his own craft, holding on again
for dear life to the boat's safety rail. He turned and tried to untie the ropes from the cleat on the stern of the
Inlet Dancer
.

His clove hitch came loose, but the second knot wouldn't come free with the weight of both boats on it. Cursing against the storm he struggled to free his boat from the other but to no avail.

He slid on his belly down the length of the bow for the
Rising Moon
and scrambled under the canopy. Moments later he emerged with a hatchet in his right hand and felt his way, the boats roiling in the waves, back toward the bow. As he reached the tip of his boat, he pulled again so that the two boats were bow to stern, and where Archie had made the rope fast around a metal cleat began to chop. A giant wave broke over the bow of the
Inlet Dancer
and then the
Rising Moon
, sending a wall of white foam and black ocean into the man's face, washing him down the slick nose of his boat. He managed to grab the safety rail with his left hand, his right hand still clinging to the hatchet. The water streamed from the bow of the pleasure craft, pushing the man's legs over the port side as he scrambled to hold onto the boat. Eyes wild with panic, he heaved himself back onto the bow and slid back to the fore of the craft. He pulled the boats together again, raised his right hand, and hacked at the rope on the stern cleat – once, twice, three times he brought the axe down on it – and then he was free. He threw the remnant tatters of the rope into the ocean and slid back to the cockpit, under the canopy. Then he fired up the boat's 115 outboard motor, switched on the craft's running lights, and made for home.

Frances Thorsen of Chronicles of Crime, Victoria for her extraordinary support, and for reading a late draft of the book, making excellent recommendations, and suggesting NeWest Press as a home for the manuscript.

Kat Wiebe for making this book immeasurably better through numerous edits, suggestions, and tremendous support.

Joe Wiebe and Alison Yauk for support during early phases of the writing.

Greer Chesher and the Ranger Naturalists at Grand Canyon National Park for introducing me to the genre with a gift of Tony Hillerman's
Skinwalkers
in 1994.

Connor Sharpe for being the biggest little fan of Cole Black-water.

Josh Slatkoff for his friendship and for reading the manuscript and providing feedback.

Ben Gadd for his insight into the coal industry and the coking coal process.

Joel Solomon and the Hollyhock Retreat Centre for providing time and space to work on this book.

The Alberta Wilderness Association, for its more than thirty-five years of tireless defence of the Cardinal Divide; to all of those in Alberta's conservation community who have spent the last decade fighting to keep that magnificent landscape wild and free.

This book is set in the Rotis typeface family,which was developed by Otl Aicher in 1988.

Stephen Legault has been a social and political activist for twenty years. He has worked with local, national, and international conservation organizations to protect Canada's endangered species and wilderness, and to combat climate change. In July 2005 he launched HighWater Mark Strategy and Communications to work with ethically driven businesses, the labour movement, political parties, and cultural organizations. He is Senior Development Officer for Sustainability at the Royal Roads University Foundation. An avid cross-country runner, skier, hiker, and paddler, Stephen has an intimate knowledge of places like Alberta's breathtaking Cardinal Divide.

His first book,
Carry Tiger to Mountain: The Tao of Activism and Leadership
, was published in April 2006. He is the father of two boys, Rio Bergen and Silas Morgen. He and his partner Jenn split their time between Victoria,
BC
and Canmore,
AB
.

For details about Stephen Legault's consulting work, visit www. highwatermark.ca. For more information on his Cole Blackwater mystery series, visit
www.thecardinaldivide.com
.