Torrents of Destruction

by Robin Caroll

  Carter chuckled. “Maybe he has a nervous stomach or something.” He did amateur knee bends.

  “Or maybe his breakfast didn’t agree with him,” piped Jerry as he fingered his too-thick mustache. The way he leered at Katie made her flesh crawl, acutely aware of his gaze.

  Katie opened her mouth to comment, but the door swung open and Hunter waltzed out. His loping gait delivered him to her side within moments. A reddish hue darkened his neck. “Sorry. Had a tough time getting the wetsuit back on.”

  Walter let out a roar of laughter. “Tell me about it, man. These things could easily be utilized in a torture setting.” The more mature man clapped Hunter on the back.

  The other men joined in on the laughter. Katie didn’t see the humor. She also couldn’t help but recall the few minutes it had taken Hunter to don the wetsuit earlier this morning. Why did it take him so long now? She popped a peppermint in her mouth before motioning for the men’s attention.

  Katie directed her group to don their helmets and life jackets, then pushed the raft into the river. Underlying currents tossed the boat around—drizzle fell against the inflated tubing. The remaining sunbeams hid behind the gathering clouds. The earthy, clean scent of rain hovered over the river, a premonition of things to come.

  The men climbed into the boat, and Katie instructed each person where to sit before latching Shadow’s harness to the long cord, affectionately called the chicken strap by river guides. She lifted her paddle and demonstrated a final time how to row the boat, then gave last minute instructions. The cool aluminum in her palm filled her with anticipation.

  Hunter sat next to her on this leg of the journey—in the place she personally referred to as the “chicken seat.” She reasoned that she’d selected him for this position due to his apparent upper body strength. His pull with the paddle would come in most useful as they made the first turn and battled Initiation, the first powerful class-five rapid.

  Shadow barked as the raft cleared First Maneuver and turned toward Initiation. The muscles in Katie’s shoulders and back tensed. She braced her feet against the bottom and side of the raft, and hollered out to the men to get ready.

  Paddles hit the water. Katie shouted out directions.

  The level of the water rose and fell, pitching the boat up and down. Drizzle, carried on the wind, gusted against their faces.

  The men struck the river with the oars. Water splashed into the boat, spraying everyone. Drizzle turned into sprinkles as the raft crew paddled furiously.

  They passed through the first rapid, Initiation, no worse for wear. Katie studied each man’s movements to see who the strongest were—the information would be most useful when they hit the class fives.

  Nervous chuckles sounded over the raging river. Katie smiled. The men were pleased with themselves. She could practically see their chests puffing out. They’d get through five smaller rapids before they came to the first five-plus, Insignificant. Leaning to pet Shadow’s water-sprayed fur, Katie let them enjoy their achievement. Soon enough, they’d face a serious rapid.

  She used the lapse in intensity and concentration to study Hunter, doing so from the corner of her eye. Water sat on the curls snaking out from Hunter’s helmet, making his hair look even darker. Blacker than black. His distinguished chin set firm. Minus sunglasses, the concentrated squint of his eyes made him more mysterious, more alluring. Katie jolted her gaze to the other men in the boat as her heart raced, and not from any adrenaline rush.

  The good-natured ribbing among the men made Katie grin once more. There were some obvious lines on the social ladder, but overall, they got along well. Maybe they weren’t so bad for a bunch of members of the pocket-protector club. Except for Hunter.

  Katie cut her gaze over to him, watching as he stared at the others. His pectoral muscles glided in synchronized harmony with the movement of his arms as he paddled, pulling Katie’s eyes to his chest. The infuriating inability to look away crawled between her shoulders blades and rested there. She closed her eyes to break free from the sight, imposing her ironclad control of will over her thoughts. Katie couldn’t understand why the man got under her skin so easily. She opened her eyes, forcing herself to focus on the river, not the man beside her.

  One thing bothered her—he didn’t fit the accountant mold at all. Why was he with this geeky group of guys? He looked more like the adventure junkies who came to the Gauley every year. She’d bet her third of the business he was more than just a bean-counter with Lassiter James Accounting Firm. Yeah, she’d stake the business that Hunter Malone had something to hide.

  Instinct kicked in, pulling her back to the task at hand. She whipped her paddle into her lap. “We’re approaching Collision Creek, which is a class-three rapid. Hold your paddles steady and let the current carry you,” Katie commanded as she watched to make sure the men followed her orders.

  They paddled through Collision Creek and French Kiss before entering a calm portion of the trip. Katie cleared her throat “We’ve just passed through French Kiss.” Her eyes shot unintentionally to Hunter, and she swallowed.

  Hunter’s brows shot up, crinkling his forehead into a furrow of tanned creases.

  She froze as heat rose up the back of her neck. “Which is a … uh … also a class-three rapid.” Katie licked her lips.

  She needed to stop acting like a little schoolgirl with a crush. She took a deep breath before launching into her tour guide speech. “The US Army Corps of Engineers completed the Summersville Dam project in 1964. The Summersville Lake Dam sits three hundred and ninety feet above the Gauley, and has three discharge tubes. When released, the average discharge is about 624,000 pounds per second.”

  Katie made sure each man’s full attention riveted on her as she spoke, then continued. “Now, the unique part of our dam is the name. The Corps of Engineers typically named dams after the closest town. In this case, the closest town was Gad.” She chuckled. “They opted to name this the Summersville Lake Dam when they considered Gad Dam probably wouldn’t be such a good idea.”

  The men hooted and hollered.

  “Come on, you’re pulling our leg, aren’t you?” Carter asked.

  She shook her head and held up her right hand, as if being sworn in at court. “Nope, true story. You can look it up when you get back.”

  She sobered and lifted her chin. “Okay, we’re approaching Insignificant, the first plus-five rapid.” She shifted in her seat, wrapping the cord around her wrist. “Insignificant has a big dip, then we’ll go down the ‘wave train.’ This is a shallow rapid, so we need to avoid the rocks lining the edge of the river.”

  The first jolts of the rapids popped against the inflated raft. Katie planted her feet. “Everybody get in the ready position. Remember, don’t lose your paddle!”

  The raft lunged under Hunter’s shoes. His heart pounded. River water splashed in his face—raindrops soaked him from above. His arms moved in reflex, paddling with the current, just as Katie instructed.

  The current pulled the boat right. Another splash of the cold water hit his face. The raft twisted left. Hunter made long strokes with the paddle.

  In twenty seconds, they passed the big dip and raced down the trail of continuous rapids.

  Hunter sent up a silent prayer of thanks for being kept safe thus far.

  And for protection for the rest of the trip.

  Only the raging call of the river could be heard once the raft slowed. The wind picked up in intensity, pushing hard against the raft. Katie adjusted her sunglasses and laughed. “Gentlemen, you did good…for desk jockeys.”

  Tension seeped from the group like air hissing from a cut inner tube. Bursts of laughter shot from some of them. Jerry even pushed Steve’s arm in jest.

  Watching Katie pet her dog, Hunter experienced an unfamiliar sensation settle over him. The woman appeared peaceful, serene, and flawless in her environment. Her strong sense of self and her comfort with nature did strange things to Hunter’s thoughts. He shook his head, water drople
ts splattering from his hair.

  He hauled in a deep breath and observed the other members of the group. Carter seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, sitting in the first seat on the right. The old man’s eyes twinkled. Across the boat from Carter, perched Orson, looking anything but happy. The man’s forehead knitted and his brows slashed down, forming a gray uni-brow over his deep-set eyes. Hunter tossed Orson a quick smile, then diverted his gaze to the next row in the boat.

  Jerry and Paul sat next from each other, ribbing in almost a callous manner. The boat shifted and lurched, causing a spew of profanity to erupt from Jerry’s mouth. Hunter cringed. Although he couldn’t say anything, he sent up silent prayers for the man’s salvation. Right now, he studied the partners in the investment business.

  Although they claimed to be friends from way back when, Jerry deferred to Paul. Hunter watched the two men jab each other and lift their paddles over their heads in a gesture of victory. Yes, beyond a doubt, Paul was the leader of the two.

  Raindrops fell at random. Hunter glanced skyward. Clouds covered the sky, but no lightning flickered—no thunder roared—not a single legitimate reason to get off the river. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Instead, he turned his attention back to the men in the boat.

  Directly in front of Hunter sat Walter, and across from him, Steve. Neither man spoke. In fact, Steve’s face looked etched in fear. Hunter leaned forward and tapped Steve’s arm.

  Steve jerked around and glared at Hunter. “What?”

  Hunter shook his head. “Nothing. Just wanted to tell you—you did good.”

  The cynical smile that crossed the man’s face screamed of needing grace. An uneasy feeling settled over Hunter. He gave back a smile of sincerity.

  Feeling under scrutiny, Hunter turned, meeting Katie’s stare. Her silvery eyes glistened with unshed tears. Why? Did she wonder about Steve, too? If her mind held thoughts of Steve, why did she look straight into his being?

  Katie looked away and blinked. Why should she be touched by Hunter’s attempt to be nice to his co-worker? She shouldn’t, period. Yet, Steve’s face had changed under Hunter’s approval, so she couldn’t help but appreciate Hunter Malone all the more. Whenever he’d met her gaze, funny tingles pulsed throughout her body. She needed to be more careful around Hunter. Especially until she figured out what secrets he harbored.

  Shadow barked.

  Moving to a semi-standing position in the raft, Katie gathered her bearings. She clenched her jaw and shouted out more instructions. “Once we make it through this one, we’ll face another plus-five-rapid. Pillow Rock is nothing to play around with. Remember what I told you earlier—paddle or die.”

  The men jostled around in the boat, preparing for a bumpy ride. The wind would make the rapid even rougher. Katie watched their nervous moves and refrained from smiling. It never ceased to tickle her to see grown men so unsure of themselves. Except Hunter. He didn’t appear rattled at all. Matter of fact, sheer determination engraved his expression.

  The boat shifted as Pillow Rock came into view. Katie wedged her feet against the side and bottom of the raft, tensing her muscles as she gripped her paddle. They hit the inertia wave, the large rock looming in front of them. “Wild or mild, boys?” she yelled over the raging rapid.

  “Wild.”

  “Wild.”

  “Wild.”

  “Mild.”

  Katie smiled as Steve yelled out his choice of mild. She stuck the face of her oar into the water and guided the raft toward the left, the wild choice.

  The rapid pitched them forward. The raft spun around backward over the little boulder peaking out of the surge. A quick downward thrust of rushing water caused the boat to go up on its side.

  The swirling river pushed them free of the rapid, jostling the crew against one another. Katie steadied herself, felt Shadow wedge against her leg, and worked to bring order back to the group.

  A smaller wave crested against the raft. Carter lurched to the center.

  Jerry leaned back, bumping into Steve, who teetered on the edge of the raft. Jerry reached out to him, but Steve lunged off the side, falling into the swift current.

  Katie’s heart flew to her throat. “Man in the drink!”

  Whipping her paddle to the other side, Katie made long, hard strokes. Her stare fixed on the water, watching for Steve. He was her responsibility.

  Steve’s head bobbed up behind them and to the left.

  Hunter reached, throwing his upper body across the lip of the raft. Utilizing his arms of corded muscles, he grabbed the neck of Steve’s life jacket and hauled the sputtering man back into the boat.

  Katie shifted forward and wiped at Steve’s face with the palm of her hand.

  He sputtered, then spat. Water—or possibly tears—pooled in the man’s glaring eyes. He coughed and shook his head. He panted a few seconds before he caught his breath. Steve scowled at Jerry. “You pushed me in.”

  Jerry’s brows shot up. “I didn’t push you in, dude. You fell.”

  “I did not fall. You bumped me, then pushed me.”

  Katie felt rather than heard Shadow growl. She swallowed as both men’s faces grew red. Not a good situation. She cleared her throat and stroked Shadow’s head. “Getting dunked is part of white water rafting, guys. It happens.” Settling her gaze on Steve, she smiled. “Accidents happen in rafts all the time.”

  “This wasn’t an accident. I felt him push me.”

  She pressed her lips together. In all her years of guiding, she’d never had two clients lash out at one another. This could get ugly—real ugly and real fast. She steered the boat into calmer waters. “What do you want to do?” she asked Steve.

  Steve, face now white, glared at Jerry. “I want an apology. He deliberately pushed me into that rapid. If he doesn’t admit it, I want off.”

  Katie raised a brow at Jerry.

  Shaking his head, Jerry set his jaw. “I didn’t do any such thing. Stop being a baby. Get over it.”

  “I want off.” Steve stared back at Katie.

  She let out a long sigh and studied Steve’s face. Fear cloaked his features. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Okay.”

  Katie turned to the side, stood, waved her paddle high over her head, and gave a shrill whistle.

  From a high rock on the side of the river, Rory whistled back.

  She returned her attention to Steve. “As soon as we put out for the day, Rory will take you back to the lodge.”

  Steve didn’t reply, merely gave a curt nod.

  Paddling, Katie felt the tension settle over the raft’s occupants. Four more plus-five rapids to go, and they’d be clear. She could do this—keep everyone calm. She let out another long breath. Could Steve be right? Had Jerry pushed him? If he had, was it a joke, or had malicious intent lurked behind Jerry’s actions?

  Chapter 6

  Aware of the implications, Hunter concentrated on what he’d witnessed—an accident, or an attempted murder? He’d seen Jerry bump into Steve—seen Jerry’s arm go out to Steve, but to regain balance, or had Jerry actually pushed the man into the river? It all happened so fast, Hunter couldn’t make the determination. He couldn’t chance making a mistake. Not again. Not like he did with Misty Mulligan. He shook his head, truly baffled.

  He needed answers. Needed wisdom. Needed the truth. Lives were at stake.

  With subtle glances, Hunter studied Steve’s body language. The hands that held Steve’s paddle turned white across the knuckles. His brow crinkled, carved in concentration. His eyes, steady and unwavering, watched the water, but darted to Jerry’s back. Hunter sighed. Fear ate at Steve Smith. Justified or not, Steve was leery of Jerry Sands.

  “What do you think?” Katie’s voice carried so low over the river and wind, Hunter nearly missed her question.

  He lifted his gaze to meet hers. Concern and worry blinked in her silver-blue eyes. Hunter shrugged. “Steve believes Jerry pushed him in.” Following Katie’s lead, he kept his voice at wh
isper level as he answered her as honestly as he could. “Whether real or imagined, Steve’s scared of Jerry.”

  She nodded, the braid snaking down her back bobbing with her movements. The itch to reach out and tug her wet locks caused him to freeze. He didn’t have time for this attraction … infatuation … whatever he chose to call it. Hunter wiped the moisture from his face in vain—the rain continued to sprinkle down on them, clouding his vision. Much like his growing draw to Katie clouded his judgment.

  “Rory will pick him up when we put out near Mason Branch.” Her voice dropped even lower. “I’m wondering whether I should have Rory call someone when he gets back to the lodge.”

  Hunter’s heartbeat picked up. “Call who?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged as she moved. “Maybe the police.”

  His stomach clenched. Just what he needed—locals on the scene to mess up everything. “I don’t think that’s warranted yet, do you? I mean,” he hitched a brow, “we don’t even know for sure if it was a deliberate act or simply an accident. Right?”

  Katie locked gazes with him. Several moments passed. Maybe she hadn’t heard him clearly.

  Finally, she shrugged. “You’re right. But I still feel like something fishy is going on.”

  “Why don’t we just wait and see what happens?’

  Letting the water drip from the end of her paddle as she crossed it over to stroke on her other side, Katie nodded. “Guess that’s the best thing to do.” She stared at the men in the boat, then back to him. “How well do you know these guys?”

  “I’ve been with the firm for about six months. I don’t know many of them at all.”

  “Only six months, huh?” Her stare rendered him incapable of looking away. “When we made the reservations, I understood it to be for the executives, the firm’s best clients, and a handful of key personnel.”

  He flashed a weak smile. “I’ve set some sales records in those six months.” Ignoring the little urchin sitting on his shoulder who sang Liar! Liar! Hunter widened his smile. “They thought I should be rewarded for my efforts.”