who needed to know that they’d get over their first breakup, too. But now you’ve just turned up and trashed every good memory I had. You’ve erased any good feelings I was able to have looking back. Part of me almost wishes you’d just left me with my happy memories, whether they were true or not.” She turned to the rain. “Yes, I do forgive you. I’ll be professional about this weekend and I get that right now we’re in this mess together. But as far as the past is concerned, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Fine. Then just look.” He pulled his shirt open, feeling the buttons pop one by one. Then he slowly peeled his arm out of the sleeve. She gasped as her gaze traced the labyrinth of burn scars running down his chest and shoulders.
“What happened?” Her voice brushed softly through the dark air. The cave walls seemed to shrink around them.
“Boiling water. My mom said she spilled it by accident, but I don’t really know. I was pretty little at the time, and my mom spent most of my childhood drunk. So it’s hard to know what to believe.”
Her fingers slid through his. “I’m sorry. How did your dad—?”
“Never met him. Which was a good thing.” His voice sounded gruff. She was so close now he could almost feel her untamed hair brushing against his jaw. Had he pulled her toward him without realizing it? Or was she the one who’d drawn closer to him?
“Look, I’m genuinely sorry that I hurt you. I wish I could turn back time and undo every lie I ever told. When you met me I was nothing but a runaway teen with a criminal record for shoplifting and petty theft, hiding out in an abandoned cabin. Definitely not a camp counselor, let alone at Ace Sports.” The back of his fingers touched her cheek. “You listened to me, Nicky. You prayed for me. You were the first decent, kind person I’d ever met in my life. I repaid you with lies, and I didn’t have a clue how to love you. Not like how you loved me. But leaving you was the kindest thing I could’ve done, and I don’t regret it.”
She stepped back. A light flickered in the woods. Then a bright flashlight beam swung across her face, just long enough for Luke to see the deep pain echoing in her eyes.
“Hello? Nicky?” The voice was male, young and uncertain. “You out here?”
“Trevor? Yeah! Yeah, we’re here!” She glanced back toward Luke. Then she ran out into the storm.
The Friday morning sun beat down against the surface of the lake. Luke stood on the hill on the edge of Ace Sports’ property. He watched as a lithe, dark-haired figure in jeans and a plaid shirt arranged canoes down the beach, their bows jutting out into the water. He sighed and pulled out his cellphone. Thankfully, he was still in range to use Ace Sports’ Wi-Fi signal.
Nicky had barely said two words to him last night after Trevor had rescued them. To anyone else it would’ve probably looked as though she was just relieved George’s son had taken the initiative to come looking for her and was in a hurry to file a police report about the stolen boat. Not to mention exhausted. But even through her relief, he’d seen just how tightly she’d pressed her lips together and how she hadn’t once looked his way. Well, he was sorry if he’d destroyed her fantasy of what they’d once had, but the truth was leaving her then had been the right thing to do.
His phone began to ring. It was Jack Brooks, Torchlight’s most tenacious crime reporter and a solid friend. “Hey! How goes the book tour? As glamorous as they say?”
“Sure.” Jack laughed. “If your idea of glamor is drinking coffee in a highway hotel while your fiancée’s half a country away planning your wedding. Got your voice mail. I thought you were in a forest this weekend?”
Cars were pulling into Camp Spirit’s parking lot. Luke watched as Nicky left the beach and strode up to greet them. “I am. Arrived yesterday. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Luke quickly filled his colleague in on both the fire and what had happened on the island.
Jack whistled. “So obviously you think there’s a connection between the fire and this hunter guy?”
Relief spread over Luke’s shoulders. It felt good to hear someone else say it! This is exactly why he knew he’d been right to call a fellow reporter. “Yeah, I do. But the police don’t and Nicky doesn’t. I don’t even know for sure the man I saw running away from the lodge is the same man who jumped us on the island. Honestly, I was half expecting you to tell me I was crazy.”
Jack’s chuckle echoed down the phone line. “I’ve been there.” Not that long ago Jack’s gut and his fiancée’s tenaciousness had been the only things standing between innocent lives and a ruthless serial killer.
“It’s not exactly helping matters that I’ve got a bit of a history with the current camp director, Nicky, and it’s not pretty. We had a thing back in the day, and I’m not proud of how it ended.” Luke ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I still don’t know why it mattered so much to George that I came up this weekend.” There were five new vehicles in the parking lot now. Even from a distance he could spot a few familiar faces, including a local politician. “Tabitha Grey just arrived.”
Jack chuckled. “Hoping for a weekend of glamor camping no doubt.”
Luke grinned. Tabitha was striking woman in her late fifties, with a mane of stylishly coifed red hair. She was with a curvy, much younger woman with the same flame red hair. The younger woman pulled two bags from their trunk. Tabitha’s teenaged daughter perhaps?
A large man with a huge white handlebar moustache stepped out of an old pickup with Lake Huron Sports on the side—owner Russ Tusk, probably. There was also a man with a battered fedora whose face he couldn’t see, and two young men with huge mops of brown curly hair—twins by the look of it. Then a large blue van with a grizzly bear on the side pulled in. “Big Bear Construction is here, too.”
Torchlight News had a pile of unproved allegations about Frances “Bear” Wane’s shady dealings and illegal shenanigans almost three inches thick. But with the exception of one dismissed lawsuit where he allegedly waved a handgun at his workers, Torchlight had never managed to dig up enough concrete proof to run the story.
“I’m guessing I’ve got about twenty minutes before I’ve got to get down there,” Luke added. “Last thing I want is Nicky thinking I’ve bailed on her again. Then I’ve got no internet or phone until Sunday. Can you do me a favor and get someone at Torchlight to text me any background I should know about Tabitha Grey, Russ Tusk of Lake Huron Sports and ‘Bear’ of Big Bear Construction?”
“I’m on it.”
A breeze rustled the trees behind him. A suspicion nagged at the back of his mind. “For that matter, Nicky obviously doesn’t like the owner of Ace Sports Resort, Neil Pryce, and the only other person I know was around the camp is George’s son, Trevor Dale.”
“Got it.” Keyboard keys clicked furiously. “So you’re still going on the camping trip?”
“I’m not even sure I have a choice.” Luke said. “George asked me to and somebody needs to have Nicky’s back.” Whether she likes it or not. “If it were up to me, they’d either cancel this trip or send along some kind of security or police. I don’t have your investigative skills. I’m just a sport’s reporter.” Not to mention a former runaway with
