Page 20 of Fire Peak

He pulled over to the shoulder with a lurch and a squeal of tires that startled a flock of chickadees. Parked on an embankment overlooking the Snow River, he opened the voicemail. She’d left the message ten minutes ago. He punched the number to call it back.

“You’ve reached The Fang. We’re open when we’re open. Don’t bother to leave a message,” growled Bear’s voice.

He called back. Then again. On the third try, Charlie answered. “Heyyy, Nick! How’s your trip going?”

“Well played, Charlie. But you’re just delaying the inevitable.”

“We’ll see. Last I heard, you’re heading back to Chicago headquarters.” Damn that Bethie Lund. He should have known. “I hope they don’t spank you too hard.”

He wanted to laugh, or curse her out, he wasn’t sure which. One thing he did know, the sound of her voice ran through him like a shot of bourbon. “Sweet of you to worry about me.”

“Why wouldn’t I worry? We’re good friends who tell each other the truth, aren’t we?”

“You want the truth?” He stared at the wide braided channels of the Snow River, which came into being somewhere in the mountains past Firelight Ridge, and flowed in broad curves toward the Gulf of Alaska to the south. “You should meet with me. I’m your best shot, Charlie. I mean that sincerely.”

“My hero. Do tell me more.”

“I like you, Charlie. If they hire someone else in my place, they might not feel the same way. You’re better off with me, I can guarantee you that.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Mark Jones would probably be furious, but he went ahead and told her. “Hobbs Financial Services hired me. But all they want to do is talk.”

“Can you guarantee that too?”

He didn’t answer, because he really couldn’t guarantee that. Jones had been tight-lipped about anything beyond “find her and set up a meeting.”

“Meet me in Klutna. I’ll cancel my flight. We’ll work something out. I promise.”

“You promise? How could I ever trust anything you say?” Her scathing contempt made him wince.

“I can see why you’d have trouble trusting me. It’s very understandable. But we had a connection back in Indiana, right?”

“That’s not helping your case, dude.”

He winced. Of course it wasn’t, since their whole relationship probably seemed like deception to her.

“Just give me a chance here. Let’s meet in person. I’ll turn this car around and go right back to The Fang.” He would have already done that, except that he would have immediately lost the connection.

Like an echo, she said, “You would have already done that if you could keep me on the line.”

Smart woman.

“I don’t trust you. I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth. I don’t believe you’re an investment researcher. I don’t believe you have a daughter you only met recently. I’m not even sure if you rescued that bird.”

“Hector? You saw him yourself.”

“Be honest. Did you break that bird’s wing on purpose so you could pretend to help it?”

“No. I’m not a monster.” The idea that she’d believe he’d do such a thing horrified him.

“Monsters never think they’re monsters, do they? Did you also invent a long-lost daughter because you knew that would endear me? Were those stock photos you showed me?” Before he could argue further, she barreled onwards. “Look, Nick, you’re not going to find me. You don’t know if I’m planning to stay in Firelight Ridge or hop a plane out of here. I know you had cameras all over town. But seriously, outside Lila’s place? Not cool, man.”

The hardware store? He hadn’t put a camera near the hardware store. He’d thought about it, but decided it was too intrusive. Charlie was still talking. “If you try to come back, I’ll hear about it, whether or not I’m still here. That’s the only reason I’m calling you now. To say goodbye and that’s a wrap on our little cat-and-mouse game. Sometimes the cat wins, sometimes the mouse, and that’s just the way it is.”

The call ended. Nick stared blindly at the flowing river glinting in the sunlight.

Was Charlie calling herself a mouse? That was ridiculous. And if she thought she’d won….well, in a way she was right. She’d evaded him. But she had no idea what might come in his wake. In the end, she might decide that she hadn’t won.

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