“I’ll be careful. I wouldn’t want to leave you without a camp manager.”
“I appreciate your care about my nerves.”
5
“THIS ISN’T A DISNEYLAND version of the wilderness. This is the wilderness.” Petie stood in front of the massive fireplace, speaking to the eighteen men and women who sat on the lodge’s couches and chairs, and to Hawley, lounging in his oversize recliner in the back. “Do you know what a bear thinks when it comes across a camper in a sleeping bag?”
The new fisherfolk shook their heads.
“Mmm, a taco.”
Laughter.
The seasoned fisherfolk, the ones who had come with Jeen Lee in previous years, smiled wisely. They knew what was coming.
Petie asked, “What does a bear think when it comes across a camper with pepper spray in a sleeping bag?”
Heads shaking.
“Mmm, a spicy taco.”
Laughter became less amused, more worried.
“Bears have right of way. If one wants your salmon, give it to her. If one wants your rod and reel, give it to him. If one wants your liver, pray you’re long gone or he will take it.” Petie had made her point and moved on to the next subject. “A male moose can be almost seven feet at the shoulder and weigh fourteen hundred pounds. Their antlers can have a span of six feet. This isn’t the mating season, so they’re typically not aggressive, but we don’t take chances.”
“I’m afraid to go out there!” one of the women said.
Bradley looked up from the phone he’d been told to leave in his room. “Why don’t you fence off the river?”
Petie didn’t often find herself without words. But his cluelessness rendered her speechless...
Well, not really. She wanted to shout and wave her arms. But speechless was a better choice.
Miss Lee asked, “Mr. Copeland, have you looked out the window? Even once?”
“No, but—”
“Put the phone away,” she snapped.
He lifted his lip, much like an aggressive dog called to heel by its master, and slid the phone into his pocket.
A few sidelong glances. A few not-quite-hidden grins.
As if nothing had happened, Petie continued, “While you fish, one of the Midnight Sun Fishing Camp employees is always on guard with a powerful rifle.”
“Are they trained in their use?” Arjun Patel was their Brit, recently employed by Jeen Lee’s company and commuting between London and Quemada.
Petie subdued a smile. “In the state of Alaska, virtually every citizen is armed, and all of them know how to use their weapons. So yes, if even our employees are not from Alaska, we train them in the use of firearms. Our people are frighteningly competent.” Had she reassured them? She thought so. “When and if a bear or moose or wolf appears—”
“Wolf?” Lucas Chu pressed himself into the back of his chair.
“—you’ll hear an alarm that sounds like this.”
Miska played the melodic chime meant to soothe aggressive wildlife while alerting the guests.
“We’ll tell you to get out of the river and off the riverbank, and we’ll take you to safety.” Petie had scared them enough to make them listen. She cast an unfavorable eye at Bradley. Except him. He was too smart to listen to a woman.
No, not just a woman. He was too smart to listen to anyone.
“Also,” she said, “the state bird of Alaska is the mosquito.”
“Really?” Chu asked.
“No. It’s the willow ptarmigan.” She smiled at him. “But the mosquitoes are vicious, so shut the doors behind you, and when you go out, use your bug spray.”
For the first time, Hawley spoke up. “Petie here has made Alaska sound like a perilous place, but we want those of you who are new to understand the dangers are real. Spend some time speaking with the people who have been with us in previous years, and you’ll discover such incidents are rare and brief.”
Petie put warm reassurance into her voice. “That’s true, Hawley. We have expeditions and activities ready for those moments when some wild creature is catching your fish.”
“Thank you, Petie. I know we’re all ready for tomorrow.” Jeen Lee stood up. “Everyone sleep well tonight.” She stalked past Bradley, out the front door and toward the isolation of her cabin.
After one moment of hesitation, Petie took a deep breath and retrieved her briefcase from the locked sideboard. She turned and found Hawley at her side.
“Don’t do it,” he said. “Don’t go after her.”
“If I don’t, I won’t sleep at night.”
He sighed deeply, stepped aside, and as she followed Miss Lee into the still sunny evening, he clapped his hands together. “I don’t know about you all, but all this talk of wild animals made me want a drink. This lodge runs on Hawley’s Rules, and one of the most important is—on your first night in the lodge, drinks are on the house!”
A small cheer rose from the group.
Petie caught up with Jeen Lee as she reached the steps that led up to the porch of her cabin. In a firm, calm voice, she said, “Miss Lee, I have something for you.”
Miss Lee turned with one of those beautifully choreographed movements. “What would that be?”
“A year ago, I heard your employees discussing the fact that, when he was four, your son was kidnapped.”
Jeen Lee didn’t move, yet Petie thought she was balanced on her toes like a ninja warrior ready to attack. “Tell me the names of those you overheard.”
“I don’t remember,” Petie lied. She remembered exactly, but she knew by Miss Lee’s reaction their unwise words would result in, at the least, their termination. Hurriedly, she continued, “I’m alone at the camp eight months of the year, and one of the skills I’ve taught myself is to find things.”
“Things?”
“Usually stolen things. Antiques, art, that sort of stuff.”
Across the compound, a few of the Cardinal Electronics employees wandered out of the lodge, drinks in hand, and stood on the porch.
Miss Lee observed them, then walked up the steps, opened her door and stood aside. “Come in.”
Petie stepped into the sitting room where the young women who were Miss Lee’s attendants sat at the small table strewn with papers and books. They dropped their pens and stood.
Miss Lee shut the front door behind her. “Matella and Tziamara, we need privacy.”