Silent Hunter

by Maggie K. Black

  Once again Trevor watched her for a long moment. It was disconcerting. “Why not?”

  “Because the value of a camp like this is more than just the value of the land it sits on. Yes, I know to you it’s probably just some business your dad built that you have no interest in. But this place changes people’s lives for the better and we owe it to our past and future campers to at least try and preserve that legacy.”

  “Huh.” Trevor’s head titled to the side. “See, I’d think whatever happy feelings people had for this place were destroyed along with the lodge and buried along with the bodies. There is no way my father will ever be able to recover from the stigma of everything that’s happened this weekend.” His hand swept through the air over the debris at his feet. “This is the end, my friend. Our reputation is dead. There’s no coming back. No amount of fresh paint is ever going to make parents want to send their kids into a death trap. Dad’s only chance now is to give up and sell it fast to some developer who’ll give him a quick wad of cash then raze the land.”

  Sounded as though he’d given it a lot of thought. But that didn’t mean he was right. Trevor might have been George’s only son. But that didn’t mean for one moment he’d ever understood.

  She took a step toward him. “You’re wrong. Yeah, it will be tough. But not impossible. Because Camp Spirit isn’t just a summer camp. It’s alive and living, like a heart. Drawing people in, making them bolder and stronger, and then sending them back out into the world again.” Yes, it was exactly like that. A little, broken, battered extension of God’s heart. “Do you have any idea how many people love this place? We could get on the phones and start calling former campers. People would step up and help. One might even make George a better offer—”

  “Hang on.” Trevor held up a hand. “But what if we could go to the hospital right now, hand my dad some sale papers and tell him we should take the money and run? You wouldn’t have my back?”

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  He blinked. “Not even if there was a cash bonus in it for you?”

  She shook her head. “Not if it’s to some developer who’ll just level the place. I’d tell him to find the kind of owners who will honor Camp Spirit.”

  “Really? Are you sure I can’t convince you otherwise?”

  She grinned. “No, you really can’t.”

  He swore under his breath. “Shame.” He slid a gun from behind his back and pointed it at her face. “I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to kill you.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Trevor aimed the gun directly between Nicky’s eyes. He walked down the debris pile toward her like a dragon leaving his hoard. The gun was as steady as stone in his grasp. She was face to face with the Hunter one more time, and something told her that this time he had no intention of letting her go.

  “Where’s your bow and arrows?”

  He chuckled darkly. “Elsewhere. While they were rather perfect for a place like the island—silent, stealthy, extra bit of fear factor—I think this calls for something a little less elegant.”

  Nicky’s hands rose. In her mind’s eye she imagined slipping her very life into them and lifting it up toward heaven. Dear Lord, I don’t know if I’m going to get out of this alive. Whatever happens now, please, please hold me safe in Your care.

  “You have no reason to do this,” she said. “Neil told me that your father is selling now specifically because he wants to give you your inheritance. You’re already getting everything you want. All I could possibly do is encourage George to delay the sale long enough to find the right buyer. Either way all the money from this place still goes to you.”

  “You have no idea what’s really going on, do you?” Trevor scowled. “Neil got it all wrong. My father isn’t selling the camp on the open market. He’s selectively selling off shares—for far less than a developer would pay—to three or four handpicked investors who will help him keep running this place the way he wants. That’s what this whole weekend charade was about... Seeing if he can find the right people who’ll sit around in some table like the king’s counsel. Yap, yap, yapping away, while they divide up what’s rightfully mine.” He flapped his fingers together like a bird’s mouth.

  A deep sigh of regret washed through her heart. She should have known George would never throw Camp Spirit to the jackals or the highest bidder. Lord, forgive me.

  “So this is all about money and the size of your inheritance? You knew a developer would give you more money for the land than the kind of owners your father would choose, so you decided to commit murder to get a bit bigger slice of the pie.”

  “A bit bigger?” His voice rose. “You really have no clue, do you? He told me what he was planning. And when I thought he couldn’t really be serious about going through with it, I found it had all been spelled out, for years, in his will in the loft!” His hand rose to empty space above their heads. “He’s reduced my inheritance to thousands. That’s all. A few lousy thousand, when the whole thing should rightly be mine. Oh, he’s asking the investors to chip in far less than this land is worth, and even then asking they invest all that money right back into the camp. But this property and that island—my rightful inheritance—is worth millions.” His eyes narrowed. “And, yeah, I think several million dollars is worth sabotaging an obstacle course, setting fire to a lodge and smashing up a few canoes for. Not to mention faking some pretty serious food poisoning.”

  “Trevor, you murdered people.”

  “It’s not like I planned to. Russ was going to stop me from sabotaging the canoes. And I had no idea Bear had a gun on him. I’d already checked his bag and it’s not like you were going to let me pat people down for weapons.” He rolled his eyes. “Not particularly happy about how it all played out on the island, especially as I was only really aiming for a bit of scare tactics and terror. But I’m not going to be so sloppy with you.”

  He crossed the floor and stopped, just outside her reach. “See, I know you, Nicky. If I play nice, you’re only going to try something stupid like knock this gun out of my hand. This time, things are happening my way.” A cold grin spread across his face. “You’re going to turn around, raise your hands and walk where I tell you. Otherwise, I will make you suffer. Got it?”

  “Perfectly.” The Hunter’s gun dug deep into the small of her back as Trevor marched her up through the woods. Nicky’s hands were linked at the top of her head. Her lips moved in silent prayer. Help me, Lord. Their path wound up the woods. “You’re taking me to the lookout.”

  “Seems appropriate, yes.” Trevor pushed the pistol deeper into her skin. “Seems like a logical place for you to commit suicide. I’m going to walk you right up to the edge, turn you toward Ace Sports and fling you right down onto the roof of their shiny new gym. Make them worry about cleaning up a body for once.” He giggled until his voice cracked.

  Nicky froze. Once they reached the lookout cliff it didn’t matter which direction she fell. There’d be nothing but a steep fall on all sides. Whether she went down over the jagged rocky shore of Camp Spirit or the buildings of Ace Sports, there was no way she’d survive the fall.

  Trevor cuffed her on the back of the head, sending tears flooding to her eyes. She gritted her teeth. “Please. It doesn’t have to end like this. It’s not too late to choose to be a better man, to be someone worthy of your father’s legacy.” There was no answer except for the sound of his footsteps crunching on the forest floor behind her. “Please, Trevor. You said yourself you never intended anyone to die—”

  He laughed. “Yeah, because I knew that if someone was murdered here it would sink the property value. You think I didn’t do my homework? A few bad accidents and some sabotage by a random trespasser are the kinds of things which would tank my father’s plan, maybe even make you willing to quit, without actually impacting how much I could get for the place. Murder, though, kills a property’s value
. Prospective buyers get squeamish about stuff like that. It’s bad enough I’m almost certainly going to get less for the island now.”

  They reached the top of the hill. The lookout cliff was only steps away now. He was taking her to die in the very place she’d gone to for years when she needed to find peace with God. “I’m not going to jump for you. Or let you pretend it was suicide.” Slowly Nicky turned toward her attacker. “If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to shoot me.”

  Hatred filled the dark recesses of his eyes, sending a chill down her spine. The pleasant mask had slipped away from his face and the fake grin was gone, leaving nothing behind but an angry, vicious, childish narcissist, determined to take what he’d decided he was owed. He screamed so loudly his mouth foamed. “Turn around! Now!”

  She stepped toward him. The barrel of his gun brushed against her forehead. She focused her eyes on the miserable man behind the weapon. “No. I’m done playing your sick game.”

  He grabbed for her throat. His fingers dug into the soft flesh deeper and deeper until the breath left her lungs and intense pain made darkness fill her eyes. “You are going to do exactly what I say, because I’m going to hurt you, and hurt you, and keep hurting you until you do.” Her legs gave way, sending her to her knees in the dirt.

  He leaned down, until his mouth was level to her ear. “I’ve given you more than enough chances!” he shouted, sending pain echoing through her ears. “I kept trying and trying not to kill you, because I hoped I might be able to use you to argue sense into my father. I hoped you’d get scared or upset enough you’d take a buyout and quit. That would have helped me. More than you know. But you had to be difficult.” His fingers latched onto her hair, yanking her up. “Now, you’re going to die and I’m going to claim what’s mine.”

  * * *

  Luke’s hands gripped the steering wheel. He’d never made a U-turn that fast before. But the whole way down the highway his chest had been aching as if he’d somehow left a piece of himself behind at the camp and his heart was now struggling to beat without it. He couldn’t let it end this way. George was like a father to him. Nicky set his heart on fire. He should have agreed to go with her to the hospital to talk to him. Not to take sides. But to support them both.

  Besides, he couldn’t just run away without even making an attempt to let Nicky know how he felt. She deserved better than that, and maybe so did he. Either way, he wasn’t that boy who just ran anymore.

  He pulled into the Camp Spirit campgrounds and froze. Trevor’s truck was parked right behind Nicky’s, pinning her vehicle in so she couldn’t pull out. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

  He got out and circled Trevor’s truck. There was something under the front seat, in a case and mostly hidden under a tarp. But even then there was no mistaking the telltale shape. It was a hunting bow. Luke took a deep breath and glanced up just in time to see two figures disappear toward the lookout.

  No signal on his cell phone. No time to go get help. The sun was moments away from setting completely. If he lost sight of them in the woods, he might never figure out where they’d gone.

  He took a deep breath and grabbed his handmade six-foot wooden bow from his trunk. All he’d brought for arrows were the lightweight, recreational ones he used for shooting paper targets. Not much use against a killer. The lone hunting arrow he’d plucked from the water slid into his quiver. It was time to hunt the Hunter.

  He sprinted through the woods as silently as he could, as quickly as he dared, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The wind whistled in the branches around him. He could hear the babble of voices ahead. Then Nicky cried out in pain. The sound hit him like a punch to the gut, pushing him faster.

  He reached the lookout path. His footsteps slowed to silent as the trees parted just enough to let him see in the soft light of the rising moon. Nicky was down on her knees. With one hand Trevor yanked her hair so hard she winced. With the other he held a gun to her head. They were so close to the edge now that one wrong move on her part, any attempt she made to fight back, would send them both tumbling over the edge to their deaths.

  “May God have mercy on you, Trevor,” he heard her say.

  Trevor snarled.

  Luke slotted his arrow into the string.

  Trevor clicked the safety off and leveled the gun between her eyes.

  Luke pulled the string back, feeling every beat of his heart infuse all his strength into his one and only shot.

  Nicky’s eyes closed.

  Trevor’s finger brushed the trigger.

  “Let. Her. Go.” Luke stepped through the trees. “It’s over.”

  Trevor turned. “So the miserable little beggar returns once again to steal what’s mine. You think you can just sneak in and steal my camp out from under me?”

  Steal his camp? Was he delusional? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not stealing anything from you.” Not that it was probably much use using logic against a madman holding a gun to Nicky’s head.

  “Liar!” The Hunter barked a laugh that turned into a snarl. “You think I don’t know who I’m talking to? You’re still nothing but the worthless piece of human garbage that crawled into my father’s life. The thief. The runaway. The addict who was sick on the floor. You didn’t deserve my father’s compassion. He should have left you to die in the gutter like the sewer trash you are.”

  The bitter, jealous words hit Luke’s ear with a cold dead clang. He’d heard those lies too many times before. He’d told himself those lies. But now he was going to fix his gaze on the first person who’d ever truly loved him—and remember that he truly was the man he’d seen mirrored in her eyes.

  “Trust me, I’ve not forgotten where I came from, or just how hard I fought to become a better man. But, no, I was never worthless. No one is. It’s just that some of us play the roles that we’re taught until someone helps us to see who we really are, as Nicky did for me.” Luke focused his sights and pulled the arrow farther back. “Last chance.”

  “Like you’re able to stop me.” Trevor cocked the gun. “You took what’s mine. Now I’m going to destroy what matters to you.”

  The arrow flew. There was the whistle of the shaft brushing through the wind then a scream as it sliced into the back of Trevor’s hand.

  The gun went off. The bullet shot into sky.

  Nicky kicked the gun from Trevor’s hand and it clattered over the cliff. Then came the echo of it hitting the ground far, far below.

  “Luke!” She ran toward him.

  “No! You don’t get to win!” Trevor wheeled around. His fist swung through the air. The blow caught Nicky on the temple. It knocked her over the edge. Then she was gone.

  NINETEEN

  Trevor had thrown Nicky off the cliff. Luke felt his heart stop. His knees threatened to crumble beneath him. Silence filled the air, as if waiting for her to fill it with a scream. There was no way she’d survive the fall. Lord, please, I don’t want to face this world without her—

  “Luke!” Her voice rose from below him, sending joy soaring through his chest. “Help!”

  Trevor turned toward the sound. Luke decked him. One decisive blow struck Trevor on the jaw. The Hunter crumpled to the ground.

  “Nicky!” Luke ran to the edge of the cliff. “I’m here!”

  There she was, a few feet down, clinging with both hands to a tiny branch, not much thicker than his finger, while her feet searched desperately for their grip.

  “It’s okay.” He dropped to his stomach and reached over the ledge for her, stretching down his bow for her to grab. “I’ve got you.”

  She grabbed hold and held on tight. “You came back for me.”

  “Of course I did.” A smile crossed his lips as he pulled her to safety.

  “I can’t believe you made that shot.”

 
; He chuckled. “Told you that you’d inspired me to learn a thing or two.”

  * * *

  Luke slung his bow over his shoulder as he and Nicky walked down the hill to call the police from Camp Spirit’s emergency phone. They’d left Trevor in the woods, conscious and tied so tightly to a tree there was no chance of his escape.

  As they stood in silence, waiting for the authorities to arrive, the moon rose high in the sky above them. Her head drifted onto his shoulder. His fingers linked through hers.

  “Neil was wrong about George, and so was I,” she said as she leaned against Luke’s chest. Her eyes drifted from the shabby boathouse, past the remains of the lodge and out over the cabins, disappearing into the thick, untamed trees.

  “Yes, he’s planning on giving up this place. But not recklessly. It’s more like he’s choosing a small handful of buyers who will work together to make it great. Actual investors, who want to share in this place. And maybe a group of co-owners working together is better than entrusting ownership of all this to just one man or woman, especially if they share George’s vision of turning the camp into a thriving charity.”

  Wise. It sounded as though George had found a way to let go of this place while making sure it was on the right footing for the future. Luke ran his hand down her arm. “And how do you feel about that?”

  “I don’t know. A bit better. Relieved, but also uncertain. Look, even if I’d ever been the kind of person who had money to buy into a place like this, I’m not the kind of person who wants to be involved in the business side of things. The person who runs the business doesn’t get to be the person out on the lake, running actual camps. Two different skill sets. Two different places to be. Contracts, permits, finances—that stuff’s a full-time job and those were George’s strengths. I belong out here.” Her hand swung through the air. “In the trees, on the rocks, in the water, knee-deep in mud, interacting with the actual campers. Changing lives.” She shrugged. “The camp’s brain and the camp’s heart are two different jobs. But what if George’s investors don’t understand the importance of the heart side?”