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  He looked up. “I...” A fast-moving storm of emotions flashed over his face. First, fear, or maybe simply shock at being discovered. Second, denial raced through so quickly she barely noticed its shadowy form. Third, he signaled the improbable thought of flight as his gaze skittered around the nearby woods. Or did he have a weapon stashed in the trees? Was he hoping for help from a partner?

  Sam’s skin prickled at the idea that Heigler might be waiting nearby with his knife, but she resisted the urge to follow Aidan’s gaze and kept her eyes on the college student.

  Finally, Aidan settled on a strategy and turned back to Sam, his mouth grim under his red-blond whiskers. “I found that last night. When that plane flew through here, I was pretty sure it had to be a drug drop.”

  “Where’s the rest of the load?”

  He fidgeted a second longer. “I buried it. Well, I didn’t have a shovel, so I hid it under a log, so the mules couldn’t find it.”

  Drug lingo. “Was there a signal device of some kind?”

  “Avalanche beacon. I tossed it into the lake.” He rubbed his wet hands against the thighs of his pants, calmer now that he’d decided on his story. “I figured I’d take these back to the cops as evidence.” He pointed to the bags. “And then I’d lead them back to the rest.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about it last night?”

  His face blushed a darker shade of red. “I was worried about you and that guy. He had to be here for the drugs. You were bleeding and shook up. I didn’t want to pile on anything else.”

  Ashley and Maya turned to Sam, their expressions horrified. “What guy?”

  Aidan was making himself out to be a hero. He’d been with Kyla on the last trip. Had there been a drug drop then? Had he drugged the group beforehand like he had last night? Her peer counselor, the young man she’d believed was a natural for this job, was also a drug dealer.

  Gabriel was up now, emitting dramatic sound effects as he yawned and stretched. Nick emerged from his tent. Taylor and Olivia crawled out minutes later.

  Taylor towered over Sam and Maya to ask, “What’s going on?”

  “Damn, Cap’n, what happened to your neck?” Justin joined the crowd. “Someone try to hang you?” He stepped around to look at the other side of her face. “Who have you been fighting?”

  “Everything’s fine, crew,” Sam reassured them, stuffing the bags of drugs back into Aidan’s pack. “There was a little incident last night, but it’s over. Let’s focus on breakfast and then we’ll get you back to your families. Aidan, keep everything moving, okay?”

  She waited until he gave her a nod. When he walked away, she finished searching his pack. No weapons. If he hadn’t lost his pocketknife in the lake last night as he’d told her, it had to be on him.

  “Maya, could I talk to you for a minute?” She led the girl far enough away that they couldn’t be heard.

  “What the hell, Sam?” Maya raised a hand toward her tender neck abrasions.

  Sam blocked that hand before Maya could touch the stinging slashes.

  “Klapton.” Sam watched her young comrade’s face carefully. She didn’t want to suspect Maya, but the girl had been on the previous expeditions with Kyla and Aidan.

  “Kyla’s old boyfriend, the guy from Facebook she was worried about?”

  “He’s that hunter we’ve seen twice.”

  Maya’s eyes widened. “He’s Klapton? He attacked you?” Her gaze darted around the forest that surrounded them. “Is he still around?”

  Sam touched the girl’s arm. “He believed he was following Kyla.”

  One of Maya’s ebony eyebrows dipped. “What? That’s crazy.”

  “Well, so is he,” Sam said. “But I want to know about Aidan. You were on the last trip with him and Kyla, weren’t you?”

  Maya’s expression turned cautious. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Do you remember a plane or helicopter flying over at night?”

  The girl shook her head. “But I sleep like the dead out here, you know.”

  “Does Aidan always make cocoa on the last night?”

  “If there’s enough left. I think it’s a sweet thing to do.” She paused, frowning. “Wait, you don’t think...”

  Maya had been involved in some sketchy things in the past, but Sam was convinced by her protégé’s demeanor that Maya was innocent this time.

  “I do think, Maya. But we’re not going to say anything until we get everyone out of here.”

  Maya put her fists on her hips. “You want to tell me what’s goin’ on, Sam?”

  “Not yet.” She patted the girl’s arm. “I promise that I will when I can. C’mon. Only a few more hours to go, and we’re done.”

  Sam replaced the gauze patch on Justin’s forehead with a clean one so that he wouldn’t frighten the staff or parents, then instructed Aidan to lead the group back to the parking lot while she brought up the rear. She didn’t want to turn her back on him, and she was determined to keep all the teens in view, too. Maya walked in the middle of the line of hikers, occasionally tossing questioning glances over her shoulder at Sam on the turns and slopes when they could see each other.

  As Sam walked, her fragmented thoughts about Aidan converged. The woven grass coaster. There’d been a heart woven out of grass at the makeshift memorial at the Pinnacle Lake trailhead. His silver Subaru Forester—wasn’t that the car she’d seen driving out of the trailhead parking lot?

  She knew that sometimes murderers revisited the scene. Was Aidan a killer who came back that day to savor the memories at the site of his bloody handiwork?

  She had good reason to suspect Aidan was involved in the drug drop. Maybe Kyla was the one who didn’t drink the cocoa on the previous expedition. Maybe Kyla had witnessed Aidan collecting drugs.

  Icy slush slid through her veins. She’d lived and traveled with Aidan Callahan for three weeks. She was sure now that Aidan was a drug dealer. Was he a murderer, too?

  By the time they reached the parking lot, odds were good that all of the kids would have metabolized and sweated away any drugs Aidan had added to the cocoa. She needed to talk to Detective Greene. If these suspicions were crazy, the woman would probably tell her so.

  She wished she could channel Kyla. What did her friend know about Aidan? About Klapton? At intervals Sam turned to look over her shoulder, unable to rid her mind of the creepy vision of Erik Heigler following her crew back to civilization.

  Chapter 22

  Like her crew kids, Sam anticipated the reunion with their families with an emotion somewhere between dread and excitement. According to Maya and Troy, the ceremony was always a poignant one, but often had a few bombshells tossed into the celebration of success. And now she had the whole Aidan situation to deal with, too. After the kids and peer counselors were loaded into the van for the trip back, Sam delayed the driver long enough to walk fifty yards away, call Troy and report the drugs Aidan was carrying, and then leave the same message on Detective Greene’s voice-mail.

  After being reunited at Wilderness Quest headquarters, crew and staff and families came together in a big circle. The September afternoon was pleasantly warm, so Troy had decided to hold the ceremony outside, in the big grassy area in back of the office building. Folding chairs had been set up, crew kids in a cluster on one side, families in a semicircle around them. Sam was surprised to see two USFS rangers sitting in chairs against the back of the building, observing the ceremony. Both wore pistols on their belts.

  She glanced at Troy to see if the rangers’ presence was scheduled. His hand came up with fingers curled in an okay sign, so everything was going as he’d planned. She guessed the rangers were there to collect the drugs and information from Aidan after the ceremony. Troy wouldn’t want the Quest clients to learn about any of that.

  With Aidan and Maya seated on her right and Justin on her left, Sam sat with her crew. The six client teens were unwashed, their hair mostly uncombed, and they remained dressed in their stained and battered expedition clothing to
show what they’d been through in the last three weeks. Taylor’s carefully streaked blond hair now revealed its brown origins at the roots. The purple tips of Ashley’s short cut had faded with sun and repeated lake washings to only the faintest tint of lavender. Aidan, Justin, and Gabriel sported ragged three-week beards. A thin mustache was valiantly trying to sprout on Nick’s upper lip, and on his chin, there was what might, with the help of a magic marker, pass for a soul patch. Olivia was physically the least changed. She’d pulled her kerchief over her ebony hair, which was dull with dirt. Her skin was a shade darker from three weeks in the sun.

  They drew numbers to see who went first. Nick Lewis drew number one, either winning or losing, depending on how one regarded the situation. The boy was visibly nervous as he stepped into the center of the makeshift circle and faced his father. One side of his face was still purple and yellow with bruises.

  “Zap ‘em, Lightning!” Justin urged in a loud voice. Sam laid a hand on his arm to quiet him.

  Nick studied the toes of his boots, swallowed hard, and then raised his eyes. “Dad.”

  “What the hell happened to your face, Nick?” his father asked.

  Nick raised his hand to his multicolored cheek. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

  “Dad,” he said, starting over. He took a breath. “I feel sad because you don’t know me. And I don’t think you want to know me.”

  Tom Lewis sat with his hands clasped together in his lap, his face strained. His lips parted, but no words emerged.

  Nick continued, “I’m never going to look like you. I’m never going to be like you, Dad. I’m small like Mom; that’s how I’m built. I love the outdoors like you, but I want to see the animals alive. I don’t ever want to hunt again.” Toward the end of the sentence, his voice cracked.

  His father quickly leaned forward, seeming panic-stricken at what might emerge next from his son’s mouth. “That’s okay, Nick. No more hunting.” He started to stand up.

  Nick held up his hand to signal his father to stop. Lewis sat back on the edge of the chair.

  “I like art. I like books. I like music,” Nick said. “I know you’re afraid I’m gay, but I’m not.” He glanced over his shoulder at Ashley, who gave him a thumbs up and an encouraging smile. Then he turned back to his father. “I’m one of those ‘intellectuals’”—he gave the word air quotes with his fingers—“you always say are ruining the world.”

  Tom Lewis frowned. “I don’t think I ever said that.”

  “Yeah, Dad, you did. Lots of times.”

  “Way to go, Nick,” Sam murmured under her breath, proud of the way the boy was standing up for himself.

  Tom Lewis rubbed his hand over his trim beard as he glanced around at the other parents, clearly uncomfortable at being in the spotlight. Then he focused again on Nick. “I’m sorry I didn’t accept you for what you are. I do want to get to know you; I will try harder to accept you as you and not try to make you into a mini-me. From now on, we’ll keep the past in the past, and look only to the future. That’ll be our contract, Son.”

  Nick gave his father a last doubtful look, but then he nodded and collapsed into the empty chair beside his father. Everyone clapped, but the clustered parents all wore worried expressions now; no doubt concerned about what private matters their teens might reveal in front of the crowd.

  A verbal agreement had been made between Nick and his father, but Sam felt there were still secrets lurking behind the hope for a happier future.

  Next up was Taylor Durand. The girl’s posture was stiffly erect as she walked close to her mother and father, and Sam was reminded of her performance as the haughty alien queen.

  Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Taylor radiated confidence, even defiance as she started her speech. “I’m frustrated because you keep telling me what I should be. You know, just because I’m tall and, you know, I have no boobs, I don’t have to be a basketball player or a fashion model. I can be anything I want to be.”

  Her father opened his mouth to say something, but Taylor held up her hand just like Nick had. “I’m smart, too. So maybe I’ll be a model, but I think I also want to be an attorney, maybe for some organization like the Sierra Club, because our crew has been to so many beautiful places and we need to protect those places from getting the trees chopped down and mining and hunting and pollution and all the animals losing their homes. When I get enough money, I’ll buy some boobs if I want to.”

  “So.” She paused to take a breath and flip her ponytail over her shoulder. “Here’s the contract I want. I’m going to eat what I want, and I’m not taking any more diet pills. I promise I’ll go to school if you promise you’ll quit telling me what I should be.”

  She thrust out a hand, palm up, to her parents, signaling it was now their turn.

  Mrs. Durand licked her carefully painted lips before saying, “Heavens, Taylor, sweetie, I never meant you couldn’t be other things, too, just that you’d be perfect for basketball or modeling.”

  Taylor aimed her index finger at her. “This is exactly what I’m talking about!”

  Her mother clamped her lips together, then lowered her eyes and raised a hand to pat down her already smooth coiffure.

  Mr. Durand stood up, making it obvious where his daughter got her height. “Taylor, I’m proud of you. I’ll be proud of whatever you choose to do. And I’m really happy you want to go back to school. I’ll help you with whatever it takes to go to law school or whatever you want to do. And—er—we can talk about that other thing, too. I love you.”

  “Yay, Sweet T,” Justin murmured softly beside Sam.

  Mr. Durand embraced his daughter. Taking her hand, he pulled her forward to sit beside him.

  That felt like a communications breakthrough. Sam hoped it would stick.

  Gabriel shuffled forward to stand in front of his parents. After twenty-one days in the wild, he was a different teen than the flabby boy who had started the expedition. He’d lost weight and gained muscle tone, and his skin had cleared up. Now, with his longish hair and whiskers, Gabriel Schmidt resembled a hermit from the backwoods.

  “I get it now, Mom and Dad,” he said. “I’m sorry I was such a lurik goof-off. It’s just that Vebulaze is so much fun, and I’m so good at it. I’m so close to level thirteen, you know; I’m a Master Wizard.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the kids still seated behind him, expecting them to chime in with “Mister Lizard.” Justin and Olivia complied by mouthing the words. They high-fived together, and Gabriel grinned.

  The elder Schmidts exchanged looks, dismay written on their faces.

  Gabriel turned back to his parents. “But you know what? I’m good at other things, too. I can make a fire without matches and I can carry super heavy loads, and I can figure things out faster than other people can.”

  Mr. Schmidt found his voice. “Yes, Gabe, you’ve always been smart.”

  “We want you to do something with those brains,” Mrs. Schmidt chimed in.

  Gabriel, embarrassed, scuffed the toe of his boot against the grass. “Yeah, I get it.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and raised his eyes to regard his parents again. “So, here’s the deal I want to make. I don’t want to go to university right now because I’m super tired of studying.”

  The parents swapped sideways glances again. Gabriel took a step toward them. “But maybe I’d like to take a few classes at the community college, like computer programming and visual art, because you know, making computer games is really big business, and I think I’d be good at it and I could make a sweet living that way.”

  Leaning forward in his chair, Justin whispered, “Way to go, Lizard Brain.”

  “And for now,” Gabriel continued, “I’ll get a part-time job, maybe at Home Depot or somewhere that they need some muscle, because I’m scary strong.”

  The parents grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

  Gabe’s last request came out in a rush. “And I want you to not let me use my gam
e stuff except between nine and midnight.”

  Sam pressed her lips together to stifle a smile, knowing that was a difficult request for the teen to make. The elder Schmidts appeared confused.

  Gabriel dramatically rolled his eyes. “I’ll show you how.” Then he slid into the seat next to his mother.

  Olivia stood up.

  “You can do it, Martini,” Justin quietly encouraged. “You have camped with bears.”

  Plucking nervously at the scarf that now covered most of her hair, Olivia approached her parents. The poor girl was visibly shaking. She didn’t raise her head as she said, “I’m scared to tell you this.”

  Mrs. Bari’s eyes grew huge, and she raised a jeweled hand to her throat. “What is it?”

  Olivia clasped her hands together. “I don’t want to be Muslim anymore.”

  Sam was stunned. She’d been expecting Olivia to admit to her attempt to run away. She had no idea the Bari family was Muslim, although now that she thought about it, some clues had been there.

  There was an audible intake of breath around the circle, and Mrs. Bari reached toward her husband. He twisted in his chair to take her hand between both of his.

  Olivia lifted her chin. “This is the United States. I’m an American. We have freedom of religion. And I choose not to be Muslim.”

  Her father stared at her, his mouth slightly open, clearly horrified.

  “I want to go to college out of state, and I will no longer pretend to be Muslim there.”

  Dropping his wife’s hand, Mr. Bari leaned forward and finally spoke. “This is very dangerous, Olivia. It’s apostasy.”

  Sam flinched inwardly, hating that word. She’d only ever heard it from the strictest of religious types, in reference to the ultimate, unforgiveable sin.

  Mrs. Bari said, “When you are born a Muslim, you are al—”

  Olivia shook her head so hard her bandanna slid back, revealing more of her wavy black hair. “I don’t buy into that. I just don’t. So if you want to kill me for that, I guess you should go ahead and do it.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she bowed her head as if awaiting the death blow.