Read The River Online

Authors: Cheryl Kaye Tardif

The River (6 page)

BOOK: The River
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TJ gave her a strange look. "He called your house when you were out. Lisa answered. Didn't she tell you?"

"No, but then Lisa's been going behind my back a lot lately. What did she tell him?"

"To call me. When I told him the details, he said he was in. He's bringing someone with him too."

"Who?"

"His research assistant."

 

Arriving at Vancouver International Airport, she spotted Peter Cavanaugh wearing an Edmonton Oilers t-shirt. He was at the West Jet baggage counter, standing next to a young Japanese girl.

"Peter, are you sure you want to do this?" Del asked nervously.

The young man straightened. "Yeah, I'm sure, Professor."

"Call me Del. Please. We're all on a first name basis here."

She smiled, noting the faint reddening of the young man's cheeks. Then she turned to the girl at his side. "And you are?
"

"Miki Tanaka," the girl said in a soft, accented voice.

Miki was young―
very
young. She was maybe five feet, two inches tall, with shimmering black hair that draped sleekly over her shoulders. Her expression was serious and there was no hint of a smile in her dark eyes.

Del cursed under her breath. She didn't need the burden of worrying about a kid on the trip. She had enough to deal with.

What was Peter thinking?

She took his arm and steered him a few feet away.

"Your friend looks like she's barely out of high school, Peter."

"Miki's majoring in math and, uh, botany."

She glanced over at Miki Tanaka who gave the impression that one sneeze would snap her in two.

"This is going to be a grueling few weeks, Peter. We need people who can keep up."

"She's tougher than she looks, believe me. And you said you needed someone to decode that book. She's not just majoring in math, she's a math savant."

Del studied the girl again.

A math genius who may be able to break Schroeder's code? Well, that certainly puts a spin on things.

"Okay, but you're in charge of keeping an eye on her."

TJ tugged on her arm. "Hey, isn't that your doctor friend?"

When Del turned, she was caught off guard. Jake Kerrigan's eyes engaged hers and she saw him release an uneasy breath.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he said.

She stared at his lips as they curled into a slow smile. Abruptly, she lowered her gaze, praying that he wouldn't see how glad she was to see him again. The man had the strangest effect on her. She felt it in the quivering of her stomach, right down to the tingle in her toes.

TJ possessively draped an arm across her shoulders. "You gonna make some intros, Del?"

"Dr. Jake Kerrigan, this is Tyrone Jackson. My…friend."

Her ex-boyfriend gave her a miffed look. "Actually, Jake, everyone calls me TJ."

The men shook hands briefly, then Del introduced Peter and Miki. She was about to ask Jake whether his assistant was still coming when she heard TJ's sharp whistle.

Four heads turned in unison.

Del watched a strikingly beautiful woman move toward them, long auburn hair bouncing with each step. She looked like she had just stepped out of an Eveline Charles spa―or a photo shoot. Even her skin was flawless. Hell, there wasn't an imperfect cell in her body.

"Thank you, Jesus!" TJ grinned, rubbing his hands together as the woman approached. "Please be on our flight!"

"Francesca Baroni," Jake said dryly. "My assistant."

Jake's
assistant
wasn't dressed for an adventure trek in the wild north. The woman wore tight-fitting designer jeans and a black lace blouse that was cropped above her midriff. A crystal necklace played hide and seek between the low neckline and Del caught TJ vying for a glimpse when the woman adjusted her handbag. It wasn't the necklace he was trying to see.

Francesca seemed in a hurry to get through the introductions. She barely acknowledged Del. Or the rest of the group. In fact, she only had eyes for one person―Jake Kerrigan.

Jake leaned down and picked up Francesca's bag. He tossed it on the counter as if it weighed nothing, yet Del suspected the woman had packed enough for a two-month luxury vacation. Her suspicion was confirmed when an airport attendant wheeled a cart behind them, unloading a second bag.

Jake whispered something in Francesca's ear and the woman playfully swatted him. That's when Del noticed the fresh gel nails.

'A high maintenance bee-atch!'
as Lisa would say.

What in God's name is she doing on this trip?

Del was about to tear a strip off Jake but he pulled her aside.

"Listen, I just want to explain. Francesca insisted on coming so we could finish our notes in our spare time, but I want you to know that my priority is helping you find your father."

"What made you change your mind?"

"The more I thought about it, the more curious I got. About Schroeder's Progeria. And I realized that I owed it to your father. He was a good man, Del."

"Is," she said quietly.

Jake nodded. "I ran some more tests on your friend Schroeder. There's no explanation, no genetic reason for his condition."

"Then what's killing him?"

"I honestly don't know."

Neither did Del. Schroeder must have been wandering around in the woods without food or water.
How'd he survive?

"Could it be something he ate?" she asked.

"Normally, I'd say that was impossible. He's experienced rapid aging, his organs are shutting down and we can't find the cause. Or the cure."

Del blinked back the tears that threatened to escape.

"Maybe when we get back?"

Jake shifted uncomfortably. "He may not be alive when we get back. All we can do now, Del, is make Schroeder as comfortable as possible."

And wait for him to die, she finished silently.

 

Boarding the plane, Del noticed that TJ had already confiscated the aisle seat next to Francesca. She was positive that the woman would make TJ move, but nothing was said. Sliding into the row across from them, Del was startled when Jake took the empty seat next to her.

She arched a brow. "You sure you don't want to swap with TJ?"

"Nope, I like it here."

He closed his eyes and leaned back.

She shrugged, distracted by Peter and Miki, who moved to the row in front. Miki's eyes darted over the interior of the plane as if she'd rather be dragged behind a chuckwagon at the Calgary Stampede.

"Don't you like flying, Miki?"

"Last time I was in a plane was when I moved here from Osaka."

Del smiled. "I was in Hiroshima five years ago. With an international team of anthropologists and archaeologists. We were helping to identify some pottery and bones at Kusado Sengen."

"Where's that?" Jake asked without opening his eyes.

"In Japan. It used to be a medieval town, near the mouth of the Ashida River. Now it's called Fukuyama City. It was one of my favorite digs."

When Miki sat down, Del stole a peek at the man beside her.

Jake Kerrigan was the epitome of the word
'manly'
. It oozed from his very pores and was evident in the unruly lock of hair that clung rebelliously to his forehead. His dark eyebrows framed thick-lashed eyes that were a piercing shade of blue―when his eyes were open. And then there were Jake's cheekbones. The kind that some women paid for―and most would gladly kill for.

Her gaze drifted to his mouth, the fine, evenly shaped lips.

Everything about Jake was fine, right down to his strong hands and neatly trimmed fingernails.

"See anything you like?"

Her head shot up and she gulped in a ragged breath.

Jake's eyes were open a crack and he was staring at her.

Embarrassed, she ignored the sudden flash of heat in her face and snapped her head in TJ's direction. She tried to get his attention but he was busy showing Francesca a book he had bought for the trip.

Reading the title, Del let out a loud snort.

How to Shit in the Woods: An Environmentally Sound Approach to a Lost Art
.

"TJ has strange taste in reading material," Jake murmured.

She scowled. "He has strange taste in a lot of things."

"Enjoy the flight, Del. Your boyfriend looks like he will."

She was so completely taken aback that she didn't correct Jake's assumption that she and TJ were together.

Maybe it was safer that way.

After a long day and three different planes, they finally arrived at Fort Simpson, a tiny town in the Northwest Territories with a population of about 1300. Climbing from the plane, Del's eyes drifted across the rugged beauty that surrounded her and she experienced a sense of familiarity.

Déja vu.

PART TWO

Undertow

 

Everything you see has its roots in the unseen world.

~ Jelaluddin Rumi

 

Five

 

S
he waited for the others to disembark before following the wood-planked steps up the steep hillside. Halfway up, Del noticed a short, stocky man awkwardly juggling a bulky camera. On his head was a knitted toque―the kind that her grandmother used to make. And tucked between it and his ears were a pair of small wire-rimmed glasses that, at the moment, were halfway down his nose.

As she passed, he beamed a smile and held out a beefy hand.

"Gary Ingram from Ottawa."

Gary was in his late forties and not in the best of shape. His face was flushed, probably from climbing the stairs, and his rounded stomach spoke of too much rich food―and perhaps a few cases of beer thrown in for good measure.

"Finally!" TJ groaned when they reached the last step. "Solid ground."

He sank to his knees, kissing the weedy patch of grass.

Watching him, a smile crossed Del's tense face.

"Well, that certainly made my day," Jake said beside her.

She turned. "TJ? He's always got to be the class clown."

"I meant your smile."

She broke away, desperate to change the topic. "Gary, are you a professional photographer?"

"I'm a…computer programmer," the man said hesitantly. "My friends convinced me to get out from behind the desk. Said I needed to
experience some adventure
." He peered toward the lake. "They're a bit late. Should've been here an hour ago."

"I'm sure they'll be here soon."

"They'd better be. I paid a lot of money for this."

A tall native man motioned them forward. "I'm Hawk, your guide. Is this everyone in your group?"

"I'm not with them," Gary said. "My friends are late."

"Well, you might as well join us for the orientation."

Hawk led them to a small log cabin.

"This is our main office. We store all the gear in the buildings out back."

He handed them each a thick guidebook.

"I suggest you read up on the Nahanni if you haven't already. We're pretty strict here, for safety reasons. Who's done any rafting or canoeing?"

Peter and TJ raised their hands.

"Either of you ever attempt whitewater rapids?"

"I've done some of the big ones in Banff," TJ said. "Peter's done some of the smaller ones."

"Good. It always helps to have some experienced people in the group. The rest of you, I take it, have never done this before. That's okay, as long as you can swim real good."

Francesca's face paled.

Hawk threw her a grin. "Just kidding. But I do need to know who can or can't swim, even though you'll all be wearing the safest PFD's around."

Francesca frowned. "PFD's?"

"Personal Flotation Devices," Hawk explained. "Life jackets."

"I hope they're comfortable," the woman muttered, reaching into her handbag and pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

Hawk shook his head. "Not in here, please. You can smoke outside, but make sure you put out the butt. Once it's out, you can dispose of it in one of the garbage cans."

He turned to the rest of the group. "For any of you who smoke please make sure you throw all butts in the campfire. Don't leave them lying around for animals to eat. And make sure you don't flick them into the bushes. We've already had a few fires in the area that have started because of some careless smoker."

Del bit her lip, trying to hide her impatience. "So, when do we leave for Rabbitkettle Lake?"

"We've got to load up the floatplanes first. We'll be taking two."

His comment drew a whimper from the back of the room.

Del snickered.
Poor TJ.

"We'll leave in about an hour," Hawk said. "We'll get all the gear packed up first. Four of you can come with me. The rest can go in the second plane with the gear."

Gary glanced nervously at his watch. "What should I do?"

"Wait here for the rest of your group, Mr. Ingram. You're guide is McGee. He'll be here in a bit. The rest of you, follow me."

Del followed Hawk to a building that was constructed of rough cedar logs. There were two small windows and a row of florescent lights on the ceiling. Plastic storage bins lined the walls, filled with an assortment of canoeing, rafting and camping gear. A long empty table sat in the middle of the large room.

"Put your essentials in this waterproof day bag," Hawk instructed, holding up a small backpack. "Make sure you leave room for water, personal items and snacks. But keep it light."

He walked to a storage bin and began pulling out large vinyl bags and tossing them on the table.

"Waterproof river bags. You need to line them with plastic first."

He held up a package of multi-colored nylon bags. "These are called stuff sacks. You can put your clothing, waterproof boots and the rest of your belongings into them. If you need any other equipment or clothing you can rent them from us."

When everyone was packed, Hawk weighed the river bags.

Del heard him grunt in satisfaction…until he came to one bag.

"This one has to be repacked. You can leave some of your stuff behind in one of our lockers in the office."

BOOK: The River
8.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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