are several foreign trawlers — Korean, American, and Russian — all supposedly fishing outside the two-hundred-mile limit, but that’s a hell of a big area to patrol with a few overworked DFO and Coast Guard vessels. If you knew their patrol schedule, you could sneak in. Sometimes it comes down to our fishermen sounding the alert.”
“And have they?”
“We hadn’t got to that report yet.”
“I’m sorry I interrupted. You might have learned more.”
He shrugged. “Poker-Ass would have kicked me out as soon as he remembered I was there.”
The waitress brought their chowder, thick and garnished with shrimp. Chris paused to take a spoonful, closing his eyes to savour the moment. Exclaiming in ecstasy, he downed three more mouthfuls before returning to the task at hand. “It’s an interesting mystery, but it’s going to bog down in forensic and procedural minutiae. And we have our own case to pursue.”
“Which has its own foreign connection!” she interjected, filling him in on the man Phil had met in the pub. “It may mean nothing — Phil’s always talking to complete strangers about their lives — but it sure ruined his mood.”
Pausing to sip her chowder, she let her gaze drift out the window. Houses and businesses were scattered in the hills as far as she could see. Far too settled for Phil’s current state.
“There’s more.” She told Chris about the letter Phil had sent to Sheri. “I don’t know exactly when he sent it, but at least a couple of days ago, so maybe after his argument with the foreign man in the café. I was hoping this trip with his son would gradually comfort him, but he seems more bitter than ever. Since Africa, his faith in humanity has taken quite a beating. That night might have been a tipping point. I don’t know …” A vice closed on her chest. “I don’t know what he’s thinking. I can’t believe he’d endanger his son …”
“Then let’s not assume the worse.” Chris leaned in, his fingers almost touching hers as he pointed to the map. “One of the locals told me there’s a beautiful private campground down here that juts right into the ocean.”
She followed his finger. “It’s still pretty close to St. Anthony.”
“Look at it,” he said. “There’s nothing around but wide-open spaces and ocean. It’s a perfect retreat. And the nights are so cold right now only fools and hermits would stay there. I bet you a gourmet campfire dinner Phil the hermit is there.”
Seeing the mischief in his eyes, she felt the vice ease. “You cooking?”
“Foil-roasted potatoes, salad, and barbequed steaks with a Prairie boy’s killer homemade BBQ sauce.”
She sat back, savouring the thought. “You’re on. I might even throw in a bottle of wine.”
The camp proprietor swung around in surprise when Amanda and Chris pulled into the empty parking lot. He was a massive bear of a man with a thick red beard and arms the size of tree trunks. He was tossing fire logs onto a pile as if they were matchsticks, but he dropped the task to hurry toward them as if he hadn’t had human contact in a week. He was red-faced and sweating in a toque, wool jacket, and thick gloves.
“You’re a brave pair! Welcome to the Arctic Circle. We had a polar bear come by for a visit almost right where you’re standing.”
Amanda blinked. Black bears were scary enough, but polar bears had a reputation for being the most aggressive of all bears. The man laughed. “Don’t worry. That was in the spring, and they’re only after fish and seals, not us. Although that —” He pointed to Kaylee, who was shoving her nose out the truck window eagerly “— might be a tasty treat. Sam Pilgrim’s the name. What can I do for you?”
“We’re looking for a nice campsite near the ocean but out of the wind, and with room for two tents,” Chris said.
“Two tents? Oh, one for the dog, you mean.” Sam laughed at his own joke. “We’ve got all kinds of sites. Drive around and take your pick.”
“Not too many campers?”
“We had some on the weekend and a few coming next weekend, but right now you’ve got the place to yourselves.”
Amanda’s heart sank. “A father and son aren’t here?”
The man’s florid face lit up. “Yeah! Phil and his boy. Yeah, they were here, going to stay a week, but I guess the wind scared them off. We had some blow that day.”
“When was this?” Chris asked.
“Day before yesterday.”
Amanda groaned. She and Chris were still two days behind! “Did they say where they were going?”
“Didn’t see them go. They left in the morning to explore St. Anthony and never came back. Well, they came back, because their gear was packed up and gone, but I was out at one of the other sites. Big surf washed it out in the windstorm.” He looked skyward, where the sun shimmered serenely in the blue sky. “But the wind’s died down and it’s looking pretty quiet for this evening, so pick as close to the ocean as you like, and I’ll be along in a bit with some wood.”
As Chris and Amanda walked back toward his truck, he turned to her. “I win.”
“What are you talking about? He came, he saw, and he left. I win.”
He stopped so abruptly she bumped into him. She jumped back instinctively, then blushed. His eyes crinkled as he gazed down at her.
“Okay, you’re right. No one wins. Besides, we’ve got the wine and steaks in the cooler already. We can have a campfire feast and still live to bet another day.”
The campground was beautiful. Each generous site was tucked away in a private nook surrounded by salt marshes, woodlands, and rocky points. They avoided the ones with the most spectacular ocean views and icy Arctic winds, opting instead for a sheltered clearing with a curtain of balsam fir and a bed of soft needles. Kaylee roamed in delight while they pitched their tents. Just as they were laying out cooking supplies, Kaylee’s ferocious barking announced the arrival of the proprietor on his ATV, bearing a load of firewood.
“Well now,” he said, eying Amanda’s minuscule pup tent. “That’s far too small for the dog. He’ll get claustrophobic in that.”
“Nick of time, Sam,” said Chris. “I was about to chop down one of your trees.”
“Don’t you dare! They take more than a hundred years to grow to that height in this climate.”
Amanda had a brief flash of the magnificent jungles of Africa, overflowing with lush greenery beneath a canopy of trees so tall you couldn’t see their tips. Here on the coast of northern Newfoundland, not a single tree looked taller than thirty feet.
Sam settled himself comfortably on a rock by the fireside and eyed Chris’s steaks wistfully. To Amanda’s surprise, Chris spoke before she could.
“Would you like to join us, Sam?”
He accepted with alacrity and set about lighting the fire while Chris prepared a foil packet of carrots and potatoes. Soon the
