The Spy I Loved (2 page)

“
Yep. Here you are, Mister Kimball.” He was a bit unusual in
that he was a foreign citizen but he had a plastic Province of
Ontario Outdoors Card and a current fishing license.

He had
his small boat training certificate.

That took
time and some foresight to acquire. Mister Kimball might have been
planning this for a long time. The Pines had been featured in
several sporting and fishing magazines over the decades, although
not so much recently.

He had
made the usual deposit, and there was a note that he might be
extending his stay. This was problematical. Their small resort
couldn’t exactly live on cancellations. They couldn’t always
quickly fill suddenly-empty cabins. Prospective guests wanted firm
dates and a clear yes or no. Hopefully he understood that, but she
didn’t bring it up. A hundred percent occupancy rate over their
short summer season was an unattainable dream, but they did what
they could.

He paid
the balance with a credit card and the transaction went through.
His wallet had a few cards in there and a thin wad of cash in
fifties and hundreds.

Other
than that, she knew nothing.

Blinking
under her grave scrutiny, he gave her a nod and put it
away.

Nothing
unexpected there, and she lifted the key off the board. They had
reserved Cabin Seven for him, which was luckily in pretty fair
shape as she’d already done the heavy cleaning.

Coming
from the starkly contrasting shadow of the veranda into the strong
light of morning, her mouth opened in appreciation.

“
Whoa. Cute car.”

His head
swung and he gave a nod.

“
Thank you.”

“
What is it?”

He
grinned at that.

“
It’s a nineteen fifty-four M.G. T-C.”

“
Wow. It’s…it’s very red.” She gave him another quick look,
but he was pleased by the attention.

She
admired the long lean lines, the swooping front fenders and the
tall, narrow chrome spoke wheels. It was strangely boxy on the back
end, and yet there was no angle or view that didn’t
intrigue.

“
Never heard of it. What’s the M.G. stand for?”

“
Morris Garages.” He lifted the trunk lid, where there were
one or two small but rather expensive looking sports bags. “A
little English company.”

“
Huh. Nice.”

Inside
the car, hulking large under the soft low top, was a navy blue
duffel bag. She took the smaller items while he dragged that
out.

“
You drove all the way from Montreal in that thing?” She shook
her head in mock amazement. “You’re one hell of an
optimist.”

“
I’ll take you for a ride sometime, if we get a chance.” It
didn’t sound overly flirtatious.

It was
just nice.

“
Sure.”

He
laughed.

To be
fair, the thing gleamed, with just a few bugs and the usual stains
on the windshield and front end.

He gave a
little grunt, and heaved the load up onto his right shoulder as one
of their resident blue jays sat on a branch and made squeaky-pulley
noises. The hum of a solitary boat-motor down the river somewhere
gave an audible scale to things.

Bent
under the weight, he followed her the short distance to Cabin
Seven.

She put
down the smaller two bags, one of which obviously had a laptop
computer in it judging by the feel, and took out the master keys.
She opened it up for him and then showed him around after they had
everything inside.

“
You have hot water. It’s a tank-less system so it takes a
minute or so before the hot water begins to flow.” She showed him
how the propane stove and the microwave worked.

He nodded
in approval at the bathroom, (after a moment), with its lacquered
knotty-pine décor, walls and ceiling. She stood there, grinning
slightly at his first impression. Opening up the back door, she
showed him the mini-bar and the barbecue on the small stone patio
at the rear.

“
Okay. Up at the store, we have frozen dinners, sandwiches,
ready-made; slices of hot pizza, ice cream, personal care items. We
have ice, live bait, books and magazines, video rentals, snacks,
pop, chips…” She stopped. “If there’s anything you need, please
just let us know.”

He looked
at her. He took another look around the living room, which was on
the front of the cabin. It had an old-fashioned mahogany hi-fi
stereo system, a1970s blue shag rug and pole lamps. There was a
small, conical sheet-metal fireplace and stovepipe, and then there
was the seven-foot big screen TV mounted on the wall. She lifted
the lid on the console and showed him the modern controls. All the
remotes were stored in there as well. Those disappeared with
depressing frequency. There were some nice homey touches in each of
the cabins, and even some art. In this cabin there were a couple of
nice hooked rugs, hand-made, bought at church bazaars over the
years. They set off the narrow boards of the maple floors nicely.
On the end wall was a varnished cedar plank painted in the
northwest Pacific native motif. There were eagles and salmon and
other creatures all over it. The sinuous lines and strong
stylizations that had always reminded her of something else—the
only problem being that she knew nothing about art and would have
felt stupid asking the question. It was pictorial and abstract at
the same time, the symbolism complex and no doubt holding great
meaning to its original creator.

There was
a certain savagery there as well, one well suited to a blood sport.
She’d seen enough fishing to know that it was a kind of cruelty,
and what alternative could one possibly suggest? The idea that
everyone in the world should become a vegetarian and live solely by
agriculture simply wasn’t feasible. It was never going to happen.
She liked her meat, her fish and poultry just fine—when you didn’t
have to directly confront the issue of where it came from or how it
was procured.

“
Very nice.”

She
laughed.

He
appreciated antiques, and that was something. This particular cabin
had its own outdoor hot-tub, and there was a sauna up the road that
guests could reserve in one-hour blocks, which was about all anyone
could stand anyways. It was a mix of the old and the new. Dale’s
business had grown by providing all the usual amenities. While
there were guests who would fish eighteen hours a day, they did
have wives and children too, and a smart operator took that into
account. People were on vacation and wanted some place to spend
their money. Choices were limited with only three or four camps
located within a twenty-kilometre radius, and word soon got
around.

Mister
Kimball seemed pleased with the accommodations.

“
I wasn’t quite done prepping the bedroom. If you don’t mind,
I’ll just be back in a moment with some fresh towels and
pillowcases and things.”

“
Thank you.” Mister Kimball handed her a fifty-dollar bill and
stood looking around, mostly out the front window at the view
across the lake as she took a quick look around to see what might
still be needed.

Fifty
bucks bought a lot of consideration and she had already noticed
that he was cute.

“
Oh. You might as well bring the car up here, pretty much
everybody else does, and they’ve mostly got great big pickup
trucks.”

He nodded
absently, not giving an impression of coldness but
preoccupation.

Finally
he made his way to the couch. He sat down and let out a big
breath.

He looked
like he could use a beer, thought Lindsey. That was a long drive in
a very small car.

Chapter Two

The next
day was very busy. It took some time in dealing with their first
guests, a family of two adults and four children between six and
ten years old. The Paston’s had never been to The Pines before and
the kids in particular had a million questions.

Mrs. Paston was a worrier with an eye to detail, especially
where her
precious bunnies
were concerned. The husband just looked the
patient, or perhaps
resigned
type would be a better description.

Mister
Paston was resigned to his fate, and had been for quite some
time.

Over the
afternoon, another half a dozen parties trickled in, and then there
was a veritable flood of late arrivals. This went on far into the
night. By the time Lindsey crashed gratefully into her bed at
one-thirty a.m., setting her alarm for six a.m. on the dot, she had
quite forgotten about Liam Kimball. In addition to dealing directly
with customers, she had two new part-time girls to train for the
store. Katy seemed intimidated by the cash register although Molly
seemed to take to it like a duck takes to water. Katy was going to
have to learn it, because sooner or later she was going to be left
on her own. Perhaps it was fear of that which was holding her back.
She was afraid of being left alone with it. There was a huge
spectrum of maturity among girls of that age—a strange and
perplexing observation when you were barely a year and a half
older.

Lindsey had grown up working the resort. Neither of the new
girls had much experience, worldly or otherwise. They had good
marks in school, and they had both done some babysitting. They
could type, and had done well in math, English, physics and
chemistry. They each had some French. Everyone had to start
somewhere, and jobs were scarce in these parts. Considering the
wages Dale was offering, they were just plain lucky to get a few
resumes and a few calls when they put an ad in the
Monitor.

It was
part-time, minimum wage work, and you got what you paid
for.

Essentially.

If only
her head would shut up…she rolled over and tried to sleep as tiny
cones and scales rained onto the roof overhead from an unusually
strong breeze.

Argh.

It was
her last conscious thought.

She awoke
stiff and bleary-eyed, but the screech of jays and the glistening
dew on the grass outside the kitchen window brightened her mood.
Cereal and toast didn’t take much thought and would keep her going
for a while.

Lindsey
was supervising the storefront. She had just finished selling
candy-bars and chips and pop, all the usual things to a couple of
the Rudenko kids, whose first names she was desperately trying to
recall. They were a couple of thin and reedy twin girls, cute as
buttons in an attenuated way, and very solemn with those big brown
eyes.

“
Hello.”

A little
thrill ran through her.

Shit. And
she wasn’t wearing a bra again. Every movement she made seemed to
rub her nipples raw. That was quick.

“
Good morning, Mister Kimball.” This early in the day she was
still wearing gym pants and a baggy sweater.

Her face
was freshly-scrubbed but not made up. She wondered just how
bleary-eyed she might be. Another sign of weakness. She had always
despised weakness. Especially when it was her…

“
Good morning, Lindsey. I would like to rent a boat, for the
day, or maybe just half a day.” Kimball had a small bag with him
and one seven-foot rod disassembled in its two halves. “What the
hell. Let’s make it a week. I can always get a bigger boat,
right?”

Busy as
they were, he’d better reserve one and have done with
it.

“
Sure, no problem.” Lifting the flap at the side of her
counter, she took a quick look around and saw her uncle piddling
round in the kitchen area behind her. “Most of our guests bring a
boat, so we’ll have the pick of the litter.”

Dale
looked up and smiled. One of their attractions was free coffee, and
they went through a fair bit of it.

She led
Liam Kimball out to the dock and boat launching area.

“
What sort of fishing were you planning to do,
Liam?”

He
laughed.

“
It doesn’t take much to entertain me.” He smacked his lips in
culinary speculation. “I’ve been hearing good things about
pickerel. A few fat yellow perch would be okay too.”

She chose
a seventeen-foot aluminum boat with a thirty-horse motor on the
back. She checked to make sure the tanks were full. His rest of his
gear was on the picnic table behind Cabin Seven, fifty metres away.
She waited, and watched, as he went up and got it. Not too many men
walked like that.

He loaded
his rod and tackle, and put on the life-jacket in an unconscious
manner that pleased Lindsey.

You’re not a fool then, Mister Kimball.

He would
be alone in a small boat. The lakes came in all sizes. The river
was long, fast in stretches, and the water was still very cold at
this time of year.

“
If you don’t mind…” He sat on the edge of the dock and eased
himself in.

Squatting, she held the boat as he sat crossways on the seat.
He bent and looked, finding the fuel cock and turning it on. There
was a rubber bulb type priming button and he pushed it three times
after opening the throttle slightly.