the past was a waste of time. What was more important was the future. He’d chosen Fool’s Gold and so far he enjoyed small-town life. Walking nearly everywhere was one of the advantages. So was the lack of traffic. His friends had joked that he wasn’t going to have much of a social life, but since his divorce, he hadn’t been that interested, so it was all working out.
He reached his office, a first-floor space on a tree-lined side street. There was a restaurant—the Fox and Hound—around the corner, and a Starbucks nearby. For now, it was enough.
He reached for his keys only to see the lights were already on. He pulled open the door and stepped inside.
The three-thousand-square-foot office was more than he needed, but he had plans to expand. His summer camp was just the beginning. Changing the world would require a staff.
Dakota Hendrix, his lone year-round employee, looked up from her computer. “Were you at the fire? Didn’t you mention you were going to the school?”
“I was there.”
“Did everyone get out okay?”
He nodded and briefed her on what had happened—leaving out the part where he went back to check that all the rooms were empty.
Dakota, a pretty woman with shoulder-length blond hair and expressive eyes, listened carefully. She had a PhD in childhood development and he’d been damn lucky to find her, let alone hire her.
One of the reasons Raoul had moved to Fool’s Gold had been because of the abandoned camp up in the mountains. He’d been able to get it for practically nothing. He’d updated the facility and this past summer End Zone for Kids had opened its doors.
The camp’s mandate was to help inner-city kids be a part of nature—hardly a unique idea, but one that was appreciated by those who lived in the urban center of broken cities. Local kids came as day campers, and the city kids stayed for two weeks at a time.
The initial reports had been favorable. Raoul had an idea to expand the camp into a year-round facility, a challenge Dakota had understood and wanted to take on. In addition to planning and running End Zone, she’d started writing a business plan for the winter months.
“I heard the fire was awful,” she said when he was done. “That there was a lot of damage. Marsha called me a few minutes ago.” She paused. “Marsha’s our mayor.”
He remembered Pia mentioning her. “Why would she call you about the fire?”
“Mostly she was calling about the camp.” This time the pause was longer. “The city wants to know if they can use the camp as a temporary school. Marsha, the head of our board of education and the principal would like to see it first, but they think it would work. The only other place big enough is the convention center. But it’s pretty much booked and the layout isn’t really suitable. The acoustics would be awful—the noise of one class bleeding into another. So they’re very interested in the camp.” She paused for a third time, drew a breath and looked hopeful.
Raoul pulled out a chair and sat across from her. Hawk’s words about getting involved echoed in his head. This was one way to get involved—but from a very safe distance.
“We don’t have classrooms,” he said, thinking out loud. “But we already have all the beds stored so the bunkrooms could be classrooms. They would be small but workable. With the right kind of dividers, the main building could house a dozen or so classrooms.”
“That’s what I thought,” Dakota said, leaning toward him. “There’s the kitchen, so lunch wouldn’t be a problem. The main dining hall could double as an assembly area. No one knows how much is salvageable in terms of desks, but they’re putting out the word to other districts. We should have some solid numbers in the next couple of days. So they can use the camp? I’ll take care of the details and act as liaison.”
“If you’re willing to take that on.” There would be liability issues, but that’s why he had lawyers.
“I am.”
He and Dakota tossed around potential problems and solutions.
“This will give us a lot of practical information about having the camp open all year,” she told him. “Dealing with the weather. We get a lot of snow in the winter. Can we keep the roads open, that sort of thing.”
He chuckled. “Why do I know all those displaced kids will be hoping we can’t?”
She smiled. “Snow days are fun. Did you have them in Seattle?”
“Every few years.” He leaned back in his chair.
“I’ll take care of everything,” she told him. “Earn the big salary you’ve given me.”
“You’re already earning it.”
“I was over the summer. Less so now. Anyway, this is great. The town will be grateful.”
“Will they put me on a stamp?”
The smile turned into a grin. “Stamps are actually a federal thing, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Raoul thought about the kids he’d met that morning. Especially the little redheaded boy who had flinched, as if someone hit him. He didn’t know the kid’s name, so asking about him would be problematic. But once the school reopened, Raoul could do some checking.
He remembered Pia’s teasing comment about moving the school to his house. This was close. It would be moving to his camp.
“Want to drive up to the camp with me?” he asked. “We should go and see what changes have to be made.”
“Sure. If there’s anything more than basic cleanup and refurbishing, I’ll have Ethan meet with us.”
Raoul nodded. Ethan was Dakota’s brother and the contractor Raoul had used to refurbish the camp.
Dakota stood and collected her handbag. “We can have a couple of work parties, for general cleaning and prepping. Pia has a phone-tree list that would make the CIA jealous. Just tell her what you need and she can get you a hundred volunteers in about an hour.”
“Impressive.”
They went out, only to pause on the curb.
“My car is at the school,” Raoul said.
Dakota laughed. “We’ll take my Jeep.”
He eyed the battered vehicle. “All right.”
“You could sound more enthused.”
“It’s great.”
“Liar.” She unlocked the passenger door. “We can’t all have Ferraris in our garage.”
“How about cars built in the past twenty years?”
“Snob.”
“I like my cars young and pretty.”
“Just like your women?”
He got in. “Not exactly.”
