“Assuming he’s the man you saw, he’s old enough to have grown a long beard.”
Link gave himself a mental shake. “If the person I saw was him. It could have been a new hire. We won’t know for sure until we get back.”
“You’re right, but something about your description feels right. Do you think he’s some sort of simpleton? A child in a man’s body?”
“That could explain a lot.”
“But what made him fixate on me?”
He didn’t have an answer.
“Since you described the new guy, I’ve tried to form a mental picture of every person I met about the time or just before I received the first note. I even tried recalling your description without the beard, but didn’t get anywhere. I tried to remember meeting anyone I even suspected of plucking one big shaggy eyebrow.” She sighed and sadly shook her head. “I haven’t been able to think of a single soul. You’d think someone like that would have been memorable, but I don’t even remember seeing the hairy guy in the hangar.”
Link laughed. “He was mostly hair.” Trust Jacqueline to pick up on that. “He looked downtrodden. Sad.” As if anyone who didn’t take care of their appearance could look any other way.
Jacqueline rubbed her temple. “For now, I’ll assume that was him. In the past, I tried to picture both men and women.”
“What were you doing when you originally started getting the notes?” Link asked.
“I’d just graduated from grad school and had started working at Envirohab.” She made an odd expression. “Adam finally proposed, but he insisted on keeping our marriage a secret, because he’d recommended me for the job as his assistant and he figured his superiors wouldn’t understand that he really did value me as a research assistant.” She snorted. “I kept my maiden name.” Her mouth flattened.
“Yet you lived together openly.”
“Separate bedrooms, same house, which was a couple miles away from neighbors. Like we were putting one over on anyone. Dumb, huh?” She shook her head. “The first note arrived the morning after our first real argument, which I won’t go into.” She made a dismissive gesture. “Even though he denied it, I always thought Adam sent it, at least that’s what I thought up until one arrived after he’d died. Kinda hard to send them from the grave.” She looked heavenward. “Remembering back, I realize it was silly to believe someone as domineering as Adam would ever send whiny notes, plus Adam had tiny, precise handwriting.”
Cold bands tightened around Link’s chest, and he wished Jacqueline hadn’t moved away from him, not only did she feel good against him, he could think better with her in his arms. “So they only started to bother you after he died?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Mainly, they pissed off Adam. If I’d known he hadn’t sent them, I’m sure they’d have disturbed me.” She began slowly walking back toward their camp. “Envirohab was located at the intersection of nowhere and Timbuktu. We had to drive for an hour just to get groceries, so it isn’t as if there were hundreds of new faces in my life about the time the notes started.”
“How many others worked there?”
“None. That’s why he didn’t mind us sharing a roof, but insisted on keeping a separation on any paperwork his bosses could see. That included filing separate income taxes.” She frowned. “That’s another odd thing that started after I got married – every year, the IRS came after me claiming I hadn’t filed my tax forms correctly, even though I had a CPA do them after the first time.” She looked ready to kick something.
Link studied their two distant tents, which were illuminated by a waning moon, and decided she should have been able to figure out the stalker’s identity with such limited possibilities. “Your husband must have had a playful streak if you figured it was him.”
“Adam was brilliant, but he didn’t have a sense of humor.”
“I’ve met the type.” Phillip could read by lantern light or while drifting past incredible scenery. “Smart at book learning, but socially inept.” Their marriage sounded more like a convenience than a love match.
“That was Adam.” She sighed, then rubbed her arms as if chilled.
“Want to head back?” She nodded with apparent relief. In silence, he walked her as far as his own tent, where he retrieved his fishing pole, then he headed toward the river, settled onto a boulder, and prepared to cast his lure. Something plopped into the water. Link looked upriver for the source of the sound, but only saw a brief movement in his peripheral vision. The kayaker was either antisocial as a grizzly, or tracking them with the skill of a master predator.
Link didn’t like feeling like prey. If he’d been alone, he would have forced a meeting. But four other people were relying on him, so his options were limited.
14
During the following days, Jacqueline frequently caught glimpses of the mystery kayak. One day, she, again, borrowed Phillip’s binoculars and confirmed that a large bearded man was the kayak’s sole occupant. Why hadn’t he ever approached her to explain himself and settle whatever his problem was once and for all?
Did he enjoy terrorizing her?
While no more notes appeared, that didn’t mean it was a coincidence that the kayaker looked shaggy and Link thought he might be the same stranger that had helped load the baggage. If he was actually her stalker, and was not communicating, it could be as simple as not having more paper. Or perhaps he was afraid to come into their camp after Link chased him off. This assumed he was the one who had invaded, which she admitted might be a stretch.
Or was he plotting something horrible?
Previously, he’d contacted her when only she and Adam were around. Did that mean something or was that simply due to their isolation?
Thursday evening, while they went through what had become a pattern: Carmen dealt with the dishes and Phillip read by the fire, Link tied more flies and Tempest continued to mope over not being Link’s center of attention. Jacqueline sat with her back to the dying embers staring through the shadows and wondered if anyone was watching them.
Link stretched his back, then stood looking at the surrounding terrain. “We should reach Fort Yukon tomorrow.” She felt a mild jolt of optimism surge through her. Link stretched his long legs, then finished tying the fly.
The following day, as they neared Fort Yukon, the kayak following them frequently popped into view, then ducked out of sight. By the time they arrived at the main dock, everyone acted as tense as Link felt.
As soon as the canoes were secured, everyone except Jacqueline headed toward the store. “Aren’t you coming?” Carmen asked.
“I think I’ll wait here and see if he shows. If he does, I can get it over instead of going through all this silly subterfuge.”
“If you’re staying, so am I,” Link said. He cupped her elbow in his palm and guided her into the dappled shadow beneath a thin, twisted pine. They alternately watched the dock and stared upstream until their eyes watered, but the kayak never arrived.
“It’s been two hours,” Jacqueline whispered.
The hair on the back of Link’s neck quivered. The kayaker’s failure to show neutralized all previous doubts. “He’s not coming.” Tempest’s voice came from behind the trunk.
“You were supposed to stay with Carmen,” Link said.
Tempest’s head and torso appeared. The anxiety in her expression was as obvious as the pinesap on the shoulder of her crimson shirt. Link stared at the fabric and knew why they’d waited in vain. He wished he’d never brought Tempest. Not just because of the time she’d just wasted, but because she seemed to be reliving the nightmare time of her life.
Jacqueline tore her gaze from the soiled blouse and said, “I’m hungry, what about you?”
“At breakfast I couldn’t eat.” Tempest completely emerged from behind the tree.
“That’s because you were busy trying to convince me to run away,” Jacqueline said.
Tempest snorted.
Jacqueline’s face displayed raw determination, but no fear. No wo
rry. No second thoughts. Though part of him thought Jacqueline’s decision was reckless, Link admired her spunk.
“For all the good it did,” Tempest said. “You’re nuts to want a confrontation.” She glanced up at Link and her mouth flattened. “And you call me a raving lunatic.”
“Tempest, you need to apologize to Jacqueline,” Link said.
Jacqueline shook her head. “She’s probably right and since you refuse to listen to reason, you could qualify, too.” She winked at him.
She might be correct. Link had tried to analyze his feelings, but they simply didn’t make sense. Yes, she was Mavis’ granddaughter, and deserved to be looked after. But to the point of possibly risking his life? Logic said no.
Link’s heart disagreed.
Jacqueline looked at Tempest. “Come on, let’s see if there’s any ice cream for sale.” Link drifted after them.
Carmen looked up as he walked into the mercantile. “You’re frowning. What’s wrong?” He sighed. “Is it the stalker?” Link shook his head. “Tempest? Jacqueline?”
Twice more he indicated negative. “I was thinking about Phillip.”
Carmen wet her lips. “I know you don’t like him. He’s different from anyone I’ve ever dated. I’m sorry I brought him.” Once Carmen was nervous enough to babble, it was difficult to stop her. “He’s been miserable and it’s contagious. I know you’re using this supposed phantom as an excuse.” He took her arm and steered her outside.
He led her away from potential eavesdroppers, before he cut in, “The stalker is real.” Carmen’s mouth sagged. “And do not apologize for Phillip,” Link said. “He’s a fish out of water, but I doubt if I’d do half as well as he’s done if I had to survive the urban jungle.”
“You like him?”
Link nodded. “Do you love him?”
“I can’t imagine my life without him.”
“In that case, when I get back, I’ll find my shotgun.”
Carmen shaded her eyes and studied his face. “You want our relationship to be permanent?”
“Only if you do. You are the one that would have to live with him. Not me.”
“But he doesn’t fit in.”
“At least not here. If we ever take another joint vacation, we’ll all agree on a destination where everyone feels comfortable,” Link said. “In the wilderness, Phillip gives the impression of being a wimp, but I’ll wager that if you gave us each a keyboard, he’d trounce me within the first five minutes.” Carmen’s face looked as if she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but was perilously close to weeping. Link spotted Tempest coming toward them. Her head kept turning as if she wanted to watch every direction at the same time. “Thank God, we’re getting her out of here,” Link muttered.
“She really got to you with her crush, huh?”
“I wouldn’t want to endure another one, but that’s not what I meant.” Tempest was almost within earshot. “Ask Ariel about their stalker. No, cancel that. You’d better ask Stone, but make it private.” Carmen gave him a perplexed look.
“Uncle Link, do you love Jacqueline enough to die for her?” Tempest demanded.
“I like her.” A lot, his mind added. She’s feisty. Brave. And smart. “But I don’t think the circumstances are deadly.”
“All stalkers are out for blood,” Tempest said. “There’s nothing I don’t know about them.”
Carmen cleared her throat. “Tempest, is every single person the same?”
“What do you mean?” A raven flew overhead and cawed. Tempest cringed.
“Does everyone who hunts enjoy killing?” Carmen asked.
She thought about the question for a long time then shook her head. “Some people kill for the sake of killing.” Tempest’s trembling hands moved to her stomach and perspiration beaded her forehead. Link wanted to hug her, but in light of her recent misunderstanding, knew he couldn’t.
Carmen gave him a penetrating look, then wrapped her arm around Tempest’s quaking form. It gave the child enough security to continue. “Peter liked to hunt so he could kill.” Her voice squeaked. “Uncle Link and Stone hunt if there’s an animal that’s hurting people; like that grizzly that killed two people last winter.” She squinted up at him. “You said that you felt like you were stooping to the animal’s level by hunting for the simple sake of slaughter. You really don’t like hunting, do you?”
“Sometimes terminating a life can’t be helped. Do you remember the first time you saw me touch a gun?” Tempest nodded then began chewing her upper lip. “I’ll bet your first thought was that I was a murderer and enjoyed it.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Because it’s natural. You would have been basing that belief on what you’d learned in the past. We all do it. It’s human nature. But the truth is that our evaluations aren’t always fair or accurate because we normally don’t take the other’s motives into account.”
Tempest gestured toward the river. “So you really, truly don’t think he wants to kill her.” Her voice faltered. Carmen’s arm tightened, drawing the quaking form solidly against her side.
Link shook his head.
“But— ”
“Tempest, think about it,” Link cut in. “Assuming the guy in the kayak is the stalker, he’s followed us through more than a hundred miles of wilderness. If he wanted to harm Jacqueline, he’s had plenty of opportunity. Can you think of a better place to dispose of a body or even bodies?”
A red spot appeared on each chalky cheek. “No. But why bother following her if killing her isn’t what he wants? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Not to us, but it must to him. That’s one question I intend to ask him if I ever get the chance. I’m sure the guy’s reasons make perfect sense to him. And I’m sure the list of stuff that he keeps telling Jacqueline makes sense to him, too, and if she understood what he wanted, this might have been settled a long time ago.”
Tempest nodded solemnly. He was relieved to see healthy color begin creeping back into her complexion. “I’ve been so worried for you and Jacqueline.”
“Her, too?”
“I hated her at first, but I don’t any more. I wish I could be like she is. She’s about the bravest person I’ve ever known.”
Or foolhardy.
Impulsively, Tempest grasped his arm, stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. “That’s for luck.” Red began creeping up her neck. Whirling, she broke free of Carmen and sprinted toward what passed as the general store.
“You did great,” Carmen said quietly.
“Thanks, I think.” He frowned. “What did I do?”
“Treated her as if her fears were worth considering and helped her put them to rest.”
“They were honest fears.” Link wished he believed what he’d told her. Whenever human nature got involved, logic wasn’t always dependable.
What if the man was a killer? Had he made plans to murder them all? Was he waiting for the right opportunity?
It was a possibility.
Link knew he must be nuts to stick his neck out. Tempest had a valid point; there was no logical explanation for the man’s actions, which only left an illogical one. Link’s thoughts led to another unsettling idea. Did he love Jacqueline? He tried to laugh off the idea, but couldn’t. Suddenly, the question of love took on a broader significance. What if the stalker was acting the way he was because of some misplaced idea of love?
15
Tempest and Jacqueline stood shoulder to shoulder on the porch of the log cabin that passed for Fort Yukon’s terminal and watched Linkstone’s small company plane taxi across the gravel and worn weeds, which covered the rustic runway. When the plane stopped, her attention riveted on the Cessna’s door and when it swung open, Tempest walked stiff as a robot toward Stone. Shaking his gentle touch off, she crawled into the rear seat, then pressed her face against the window. If Jacqueline had thought it would do any good, she’d have boarded the plane, too, but that would only have put off facing the unknown and she’d a
lready done that far too long. Jacqueline doubted if the child understood why she had to do this and knew that if Link suffered so much as a hangnail, the kid would make her life a living hell of retribution.
Carmen’s features were a caricature of woe as she gave Link a tearful, clinging hug.
Stone closed the baggage compartment, then grabbed Link’s shoulder and pulled him out of sight of the Cessna’s passengers. Jacqueline watched Link’s face. Though she was too far away to hear, it didn’t take much to guess the topic of conversation’s content as Stone motioned toward the river, then pointed toward the plane. Link’s shoulders were rigid as Tempest’s had been, though his casual stance and the thumbs he had stuck in his pockets seemed relaxed. Stone made a forceful gesture toward her.
Jacqueline took a backward step. Her bottom whacked against the solid wall of the log structure. “Talk, Stone, talk,” she whispered softly. “Get Link out of here. Make him change his mind. Save him.” If Link gets hurt or worse, dies, while helping me, I’ll never forgive myself. Link threw up his hands. Jacqueline’s eyes watered.
Link shook his head.
Stone punched Link in the shoulder. A lesser man would have been knocked on his backside, but Link didn’t budge. Jacqueline massaged her collarbone, certain that she’d be black and blue from head to toe if anyone ever gave her such a companionable blow. Link gave Stone a matching cuff. Then the two men gave each other a back-thumping hug. Finally, Stone got in the plane and the propeller started to turn.
Link waved a final farewell.
Jacqueline bit her lower lip and blinked away tears.
If her stalker wanted her dead, she’d have died long ago. Since she was alive, it stood to reason that Link was correct about him wanting something tangible from her. If her stalker had devised a trap, which Adam’s cigarette would trip, it meant he had meant to kill him, not her. But had the cigarette ignited the blaze as the fire marshall claimed, or had it been something else? Had she been the target? Or had Adam? Or had it all been some sort of scam, so he only appeared to die? Acid indigestion ate at her stomach. Her stalker had hinted at his hatred of Adam with every scrap of origami— until the fire. By staying, Link could be making himself appear to be new competition and be in serious danger.
Passion's Fire Page 11
