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"Under controlled circumstances and on a perfect day. I wouldn't dare try that far on a hit."

"Don't be so quick. Shouldn't grandstand, sure. But if it's the only decent shot? On a boat maybe? Never dismiss it."

"I suppose so..."

"Can't always have absolutes, Nadia."

I nodded. He pulled his rifle back to reload.

"Gun like this?" he said. "Makes even me look good."

"You like that one? I picked it up used from someone who'd fired no more than a few dozen rounds with it. It's a Sako.308 - almost as old as I am, but it's in A1 condition. It shoots 1/2 MOA already, so I've avoided the temptation to tinker." I laughed. "I know that means little or nothing to you, but it's a sweet piece."

"It is." He slid the rifle back into position. "Speaking of sweet... Ever heard of a corner gun?"

"Oooh, yes. It's not actually a gun, but a device that holds a pistol. You can put a Glock in the end, fold it ninety degrees, then aim using an attached videocam to shoot around a corner. Now that would be sweet. Strictly government sales only, though."

"Want one?"

"Seriously?"

"Felix."

Felix - less colloquially known as Phoenix - was a political assassin, a quiet, professorial man with a passion for high-tech gadgetry

"If he has one, I'd consider buying it, but I suspect it's way out of my price range."

"Got one for you. At a stash. Check it out. Probably shoots worth shit. But..." He shrugged. "Can't dismiss it. If it works? You can show me."

In other words, he'd give me the gun if I'd test it out, train on it, then teach him how to use it.

"Got some other stuff, too," he said.

"Toys from Felix?"

"Yeah. Always pushing 'em on me. Can't be bothered. Take what you want. Got some surveillance stuff, too. Cameras and shit."

I sat up sharply. "The photographer - " I stopped. "Sorry. That made me think of Sammi again."

"Go on."

"Remember I mentioned that photographer who'd taken pictures? They were shots of Destiny, not Sammi, right? I should get more details from Tess." I checked my watch. "She's usually at the liquor store after four. We can always use more beer, maybe some extra wine. I'll make a run into town later and - " I clipped the word off and shook my head, then lowered myself to the ground again.

"She work tomorrow?"

"All day, but it can wait - "

"Go then. Schedule around it."

I wanted to protest that I could wait until Sunday, but knew by then I'd be ready to pack for my guests and valet their cars to the door. Postponing it to tomorrow would slow me down enough.

My next wave of guests arrived as Jack and I returned to the lodge.

Check-in time is four, but we don't stick to that. Those who arrive hours early, though, usually have the courtesy to acknowledge it and ask whether their room is ready. The Previls waltzed in at two, dropped their bags at Jack's feet, and told Emma she could serve them cocktails down by the lake.

The Previls, as I soon learned, were fraternal twin brothers who, when given the chance to celebrate their fortieth birthday any way they wished, had decided on a weekend wilderness retreat with their wives and two other couples. They started their visit by presenting an itinerary of everything they needed me for, half of which they hadn't requested pre-check-in. It included pretty much everything we offered, from canoeing to rafting to rock-climbing... for guys who'd showed up in golf shirts and looked as if they'd never set foot anyplace wilder than the eighth-hole rough.

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