Chapter 12
“We don’t haveto stay here,” Nick assured the mercurial teenager in the passenger seat of his car. He’d traded in the sedan that looked like a cop car for something more likely to appeal to a fifteen-year-old girl. He’d actually Googled “most popular cars for teenage girls,” then wandered down a TikTok rabbit hole that had him eyeing a Land Rover, and eventually wound up with a black Jeep Wrangler. Only to get a mild lecture from Hailey about why he should’ve gone for an electric car.
“I know there’s a gas station, but I have no idea if there’s a charging station,” he’d told her. “But we’ll look into it. If we stay.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Hailey asked. She’d rolled down the window and was resting her chin on the frame as she absorbed each woodshed and rusty car and mossy rooftop and four-wheeler they passed. “So far I love it here.”
“There’s not much going on.”
“What do you mean? I just saw a dog riding on the back of a four-wheeler! Did you see that?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t like sharing the road with four-wheelers, but out here, obviously the rules went out the window. “I mean, there’s no mall out here.”
“You think teenage girls just like to shop?”
“No. No,” he said quickly. “Of course not. That would be relying on stereotypes and I know how much you hate those.”
“I do, because they’re limiting and harmful.”
“So harmful. So limiting.”
She tilted her head to eye him suspiciously. “Are you patronizing me?”
“Fuck no. Oops. Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. That’s actually kind of patronizing if you think about it. Like I’m a delicate wildflower who can’t handle a swear word.” At least she was smiling as she made her point. Sometimes her fierceness took him by surprise, but he respected it.
He changed the subject. “The other thing Firelight Ridge is low on is good cell service.”
“You think all teenage girls are on their phones all the time?”
“Well…yeah. A lot of the time.”
“You’re right,” she conceded. Phew. “That’s why my friends and I decided we’re going to have a summer where we just write letters. Screens are evil.” She sat back in the seat and shook out her wavy brown hair, then began braiding it into a side-braid. “We’re all doing our own thing this summer, and we’re not going to get distracted by fucking social media drama. Every week, we’re going to send a postcard or a letter or a care package, it’s going to be like, a very organic and authentic and stripped-down summer. Old school.”
Okay. He hoped that “stripped-down” part was metaphorical. Jill had given him strict instructions about contact with boys.
They passed the old yellow school bus that proclaimed itself the Magic Breakfast Bus. “Best pancakes in town,” he told Hailey.
“In a school bus? Dope.”
The general store came next. Since the last time he’d been in Firelight Ridge, Kathy had installed ornate clay planters on either side of the door. The pots overflowed with brilliant nasturtiums in neon shades of red and orange.
“If you get desperate for Wi-Fi, that’s where to go,” he told Hailey.
“I won’t.”
Would it be unsupportive to make a private bet with himself as to how long that would last? Yes, he decided.
“That’s fine, but you need to stay in touch with your mom. She wants a call every week.”
“I know, I know.” Hailey rolled her eyes, then gestured toward a charming cedar-planked building with a bay window storefront made from old leaded glass. “What’s that place?”
“That used to be the hardware store, back when this was a mining town. Now someone lives there.”
And by someone, he meant Lila Romanoff. He couldn’t help scanning for any sign of a tall rebel wild woman with long blond hair and a hip-swinging stride. But there was no sign of Charlie Santa Lucia. No doubt she was long gone. Why would she stay in the one place where he’d nearly had her cornered?
Then again, why did Charlie do anything? She was spectacularly unpredictable.
At any rate, it wasn’t his problem anymore. As he’d predicted, Hobbs Financial Services had taken him off the job. He’d tried to find out if they planned to hire someone else in his place, but they’d given him no hint about that. They’d also asked for a complete report on everything related to Charlie Santa Lucia. He’d passed along a report, but by no means was it complete.
He didn’t trust Mark Jones anymore. He wasn’t sure if Charlie had done anything to justify being chased all the way across the country. They’d never explained what they suspected her of doing, and at this rate, he’d probably never find out.
“There it is.” He pulled up next to a squat little one-story cabin made from peeled logs, with a wide wraparound deck that overlooked the Snow River tributary that wound through Firelight Ridge. “This is one of the oldest cabins in town. But don’t worry, its been modernized.”
“Modernized? Boo, why’d they have to do that?”
“Probably so you wouldn’t have to use an outhouse,” he said dryly.
That stopped her complaints. Hailey had grown up in suburban Arizona and had gotten her only outdoors experience in summer camp. Jill was a city girl all the way.
“It’s cute,” she decided after they’d toured the cabin, which involved little more than turning in a circle in the living room. The wooden floors gleamed with new polyurethane, and the windows were cranked open to let in the breeze. A tidy stack of logs next to the woodstove suggested it might get chilly at night. A quilt depicting a mama bear and cubs covered one entire wall. Shelves along another wall were filled with local guidebooks and paperbacks and stacks of board games.
“See, that’s what you do when you don’t have Internet,” he said, pointing at the games. “Old entertainment technology. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll let you beat me at Scrabble.”
“Patronizing,” she said sternly.
“Ass-covering,” he corrected. “You’ll probably beat me, I’m just setting up my excuse early.”
“Ha ha. You said ‘ass.’ I might tell Mom.”
“So she can come kick my ass?” He grinned at his daughter. She really did look quite a bit like him. Or maybe more like Donna, the youngest of his four sisters, who had the same flashing black eyes and sturdy build.
Hailey set down her suitcase on the floor and peered up at the loft, reachable by a built-in ladder at one end. “Since you’ve obviously decided to be the cool dad, are you letting me get first dibs on where to sleep?”
“You want the loft? You can have it. I believe it comes with a ‘keep out’ sign. And a ‘no boys allowed’ sign.”
“Ew. As if I’d bring a boy over with my dorky dad right there.”
The fact that she was calling him “dad” canceled out the “dorky” part. He was still feeling his way through this relationship; they all were. When he’d randomly run into Jill while on a job in Tucson, she’d asked for his number. Sometime later, she’d called and explained about Hailey, and set up a meeting, all because Hailey had wanted it. He still wasn’t sure if that was because Hailey wanted a father, or just out of curiosity.
A knock sounded at the door. He and Hailey shared a glance of surprise. “Expecting someone?” he asked as he stepped toward the door.
“Oh, just a few boys,” she teased him.
He sighed, wondering what he’d gotten himself into by suggesting Hailey spend the summer with him in Alaska. A bumpy ride, no doubt.
He opened the door to find Solomon, the old miner from The Fang, planted on the patch of dirt out front. His ancient straw hat was tilted backwards, which meant he was in a chatty mood. When Nick had spent time with him at the bar, he’d quickly learned the code. Tilted back—open to conversation. Angled over his eyes—keep your distance. Cocked to the side—just got his disability deposit and might buy the next round.
“Rumors are true,” Solomon said around a mouthful of nicotine gum. The story went that he’d started chewing to break his cigarette habit, but these days he just alternated the two. “You’re back.”
“There’s already rumors about me?” Nick shook his head in bemusement. “I just drove in about six minutes ago.”
“More like four and a half,” called Hailey from the loft ladder. He heard some thumps and bumps as she climbed onto the loft.
“Is that your daughter? They said you might be bringing your daughter.”
“How…who…never mind. What’s up, Solomon? We just walked in, haven’t even unpacked.”
“I unpacked,” Hailey yelled. “It’s supercool up here. I can see a mountain that looks like it’s on fire.”
“We call that Fire Peak,” Solomon answered, calling around Nick as if he was just an inconvenient roadblock. “Anyone tell you about the volleyball game every Friday night? It’s on old Preacher’s property, he wrote it into his will,” he explained to Nick.
“I’m too short for volleyball,” called Hailey.
“No, you ain’t. Everyone plays. Even Scooter does, and he has a cane. Gunnar’s the only one any good at it.”
Nick sighed. “You want to come in and meet Hailey instead of just yelling to her?”
“Nah, I better not. I came because I got a problem. Thought you might be able to help.”
“Me?” Nick couldn’t imagine anything he could possibly help this weatherworn, mountain-savvy former miner with. “I doubt it.”
“Close the door, would you?”
Nick scrutinized the man and caught the real worry on his face. “Be right back,” he called to Hailey, then closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I know you’re good at finding people. That’s why I came to you. You found Charlie, slick as bar oil.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
Solomon’s mouth dropped open. “It’s for a chainsaw,” he explained, astonished.
Moving on. “I didn’t ever find Charlie, you know. But it’s true, generally I manage to find the people I’m looking for. Who’s missing?”
“I got a mining claim out Fire Peak way. I keep a rig out there, and once in a while I work it. Never been too productive, but I like to keep my hand in. Got a camper I stay in. Last time I went, someone was camping along the creek. They had a tent set up, one of those expensive ones, not the old Army shit I use. They had a lot of high-tech gear. Even a satellite dish. Generator. Portable solar panel. Looked like they’d moved in. I didn’t want no confrontation, you know me. I’m a man of peace. So I stayed behind a tree and watched until they came back. Young couple, real fit-like. Athletic gear, expensive shit.”
“Are they trying to work your claim?”
“Nah, they’re up the creek a ways. Anyways, I snuck away with them none the wiser. I thought they’d be gone the next time I went out to the creek. Their whole setup was still there, every bit of it. But I didn’t see anyone. I waited a bit, then took a peek inside their tent. Saw blood. But no dead bodies or even a severed limb.”
“You were expecting a severed limb?”
“You never know,” Solomon said wisely. “You just never know in these mountains. Bears can get real feisty if you catch them in a mood.”
Nick reminded himself not to let Hailey wander the trails by herself. “Have you been back since then?”
“Once more. Didn’t look like nothing had changed. I was too spooked to look inside the tent again.”
“You’re telling me Solomon gets spooked?”
The man shuddered dramatically. “I once put a knife to a man’s throat because he wouldn’t stop telling me a ghost story. Claimed the spirits of the folks that were murder spree-ed here in the eighties are still around. Mother fucker.”
Nick hadn’t heard about that event, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. To his mind, there was no need for ghost stories because the real ones were bad enough. “So what do you want from me?”
“I want you to make sure nothin’ bad happened to those folks. Find them, see if they’re alive, or if they’re dead. They have all that communications gear, so if they were in trouble they could likely call someone. Maybe they did, but then why’d they leave all that pricey shit? I thought about helping myself, but I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
Nick might be good at research, tracking and surveillance, but he was no mountain man. That required a different skill set. “I wish I could help, but I’m not here to work. I’m on vacation with my daughter.”
“I’ll make it worth your time.”
“I don’t need money.”
“Not in money. I don’t got none of that, and whatever I do have, it’s spent soon as I get it. I’m a trader. I’ll trade you some home-brew and some information I bet you’d like.”
Nick felt his eyebrows lift. “I’m listening. Not committing, just listening.”
“If I tell you where Charlie is right now, will you check on those campers, find out where they’re from and what they’re doing here? I’ll give you the GPS coordinates. It’s not a hard trail, nothing you can’t handle.”
Damn, Solomon really was a good trader. He knew exactly what would entice Nick to take on a job. “You know where Charlie is?”
“I’d only tell you if you promise you don’t mean her no harm. But I never thought you did.”
“Is she here in town?” If she wasn’t, the information wasn’t much use to him. He wasn’t going to abandon his vacation with Hailey to chase after someone who wasn’t even his target anymore.
“Do we have a deal?”
“If she’s here in town, sure.”
“Close enough.”