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“I know, and I understand.”
“And you’re absolutely thrilled to have me on board?”
I smile. “I am not completely devastated to have you on board.”
“Fair enough.” She lowers herself to the deck stairs. “Grab a couple of mugs and share that special coffee with me, and we’ll wait for your man to show up.”
We arrive at Mark’s camp and…
I stand where his tent had been, looking around at the empty site. “This is the place, right?”
Dalton’s on one knee, rubbing his hand over the packed ground.
“This is where his tent was,” I say. “Am I imagining that there’s no trace of it? Not even a peg hole?”
He straightens. “You’re not.” He circles around the site, studying the ground, even pausing now and then to touch it.
“Someone didn’t steal his stuff or break camp for him,” I say. “They erased all signs—”
A bush crackles to our left. We both wheel, hands going to our guns.
“Hello!” a man’s voice calls. “We are coming to greet you, with our weapons holstered and hoping for the same consideration from you.”
We stay where we are, hands still on our holstered guns. I put my other hand on Storm’s head as she growls.
A man appears. He’s about fifty, white, with silvering hair and a smile that shows off perfect teeth. He’s dressed head to toe in expensive outdoor gear. Flanking his rear are two younger men, one wearing sunglasses despite being deep in the shadowy forest. One glance at them, and I know they’re his security detail. They have the bearing of ex-military. Both have their hands on their weapons, but at a wave from the man, they withdraw their hands, and we do the same.
The man in charge continues to smile. “I thought we might see our neighbors sooner or later.”
I bite back the urge to say, “Neighbors?” That’s what he wants, and I can tell it’s better not to give him that satisfaction.
“We’re looking for someone who was camping here,” I say.
“As are we. We were supposed to meet him yesterday to complete our transaction, but there’s been no sign of him, so we removed his camp, as a courtesy. Before any of the local wildlife got into it.”
Dalton’s expression darkens. “We were coming to check on him, not steal from him.”
“Did I suggest that? I apologize. I do think we might have something of yours, though.” He waves to one of his guards, who takes a backpack from his shoulder.
Mybackpack. The man doesn’t ask if it’s ours, just sets it between my feet and Dalton’s.
“I didn’t tamper with the cell phone,” he says. “That’s far toodifficult, I’m afraid, merely for the hope of finding the rightful owner and returning it. I fear, however, that our mutual friend did use your satellite phone.”
We say nothing.
He continues, “One would think he’d have one of his own, but these miners are so paranoid that they shoot themselves in the foot, trapped out here when they most need to contact the outside world. It seems he ran into a bit of trouble and was most desperate to have someone else take over his claim. We negotiated a price, and I was supposed to meet him here to complete the transaction. But now he’s gone. That’s most troubling.”
“So you came out here to buy his claim,” I say, arching my brows. “And now he’s missing? You’re right, thatistroubling.”
The man only laughs. “Believe me, we’d have nothing to gain by harming him. I prefer a properly completed transaction, but since he is temporarily missing, and time is of the essence, we will move forward while awaiting his return.”
“Move forward with his claim?” Dalton says.
“With the management of his claim and the construction of a somewhat larger camp.” He nods in the other direction. “We’ll be breaking ground about a mile that way, which is why I said we seem about to be neighbors. You are, I believe, responsible for the settlement our mutual friend mentioned.”
I try not to stiffen, but Dalton does, and the man laughs. “No need to worry. We knowyouare not a mining operation, and so we are perfectly fine having distant neighbors. As for what you are doing?” An elegant shrug. “This is not a place where people worry about the business of others. We have no interest in yours, and you have no interest in ours. Correct?”
Dalton answers, “We’re not miners, like you said.”
