Chapter Thirteen
“O kay. Here are thechoices,” Emma said as she entered the shed. “We can stack firewood, winterize the boats, and wash the plane and my truck, or we can go check out Wayne’s coordinates.”
Mikey looked up from the generator he was servicing. “I vote for the last one.”
“Good. You go dig up the topographies for that area and find the handheld GPS. I’ll pack us a lunch.”
“We flying or driving?”
“Flying,” Emma answered over her shoulder as she left. “You need another lesson in tight water landing. You came in much too hot at Smokey Bog.”
Emma had two packs loaded and in the plane by the time Mikey arrived with his own day-trip gear. He had a roll of maps, the GPS, his shotgun, and Homer, their newest homing pigeon. Shaking her head, Emma took Homer’s cage and set it on top of the packs in the backseat of the plane so the bird could see out the window. She climbed into the passenger seat and handed Mikey his headphones as he settled in beside her.
“That’s cheating, Nem. He can watch the terrain and learn his way back.”
“But think of the thrill for him. He can tell his buddies he actually flew over a hundred miles an hour.”
“You spoil those birds.”
“No worse than I spoil you,” she shot back, pulling out the checklist and handing it to him. “Like doing the preflight inspection for you. All systems are go. Let’s take this bird into the sky.”
“If Dad finds out about this, there’ll be trouble,” he warned, checking the instruments and starting the plane.
“Then we’ll make sure he doesn’t find out. Give me the maps and get us airborne, Boy Wonder. We’ll be back before Ben calls.”
“You think he’ll call?”
Emma just snorted and opened the maps.
With the confidence of someone who knew he had a guardian angel sitting on his shoulder, Mikey taxied out to the middle of the bay. “Smile and wave to Crazy Larry, Nem,” he told her through the headsets.
“I don’t see him.”
“He’s in his picture window, looking at us through binoculars.”
Emma picked up her own field glasses and looked toward the shore. Sure enough, there was Larry, eagle-eyeing them like the nosy pain in the neck he was. She felt like shooting him an unladylike gesture, but decided not to aggravate the situation. She smiled and waved instead, and watched as his jaw went slack and he instinctively waved back.
The old coot had rained holy terror down on them when Mikey had splintered his docks. The FAA had arrived and threatened to take her license away. And they would have, if not for Michael blatantly lying that he’d taken the plane without her knowledge. Even Sheriff Ramsey had been called to the scene. But having flown with Emma and Mikey when the boy had been at the controls, and knowing her influence with Greta, Ramsey had somehow ended up losing the paperwork.
Living in a small town sure did have advantages.
“Where do you want to land?” he asked, once they were airborne and heading northwest.
Emma punched Wayne’s coordinates into the loran on the dash. “Let’s fly to the spot and look around first, then find a pond nearby,” she said, studying the map.
“What do you think we’ll find?”
“I haven’t a clue, Mikey. This could be a wild-goose chase, for all I know. It may simply be a spot Wayne needs to cruise for future cutting for the mill.”
“You said the paper looked old.”
“It did. That’s what made me curious, I guess.” She looked at him, but only saw her reflection in his mirrored glasses when he looked back at her. “You want to return and stack wood instead?”
He grinned. “No. It still beats working. And I’m up for a lesson from my favorite aunt any day of the week.”
“Your onlyaunt. And the best darn instructor you’ll ever hope to have. Why haven’t you taken Ben up for a ride yet?”
“I offered. He said he’s still recovering from his last plane ride.”
“What do you honestly think of him? Does he measure up to your expectations?”
Mikey scanned the horizon and checked their progress down below. “Actually he does—and then some. I like him. He’s intelligent and interesting and he’s got a sense of humor. But I think he’s a little … well, overwhelmed by … everything.”
“That’s one way of putting it. I don’t think he knows what to do with either of us.”
“But he is trying,” he told her with all the sincerity of a loyal son. “But you know what I find the neatest?”
“What?”
“There’s a lot more to him than he lets on. He supposedly got lost getting here, but I don’t believe it. I think he was stalling because he was nervous about meeting me. But then there’s this other side of him. It’s not something anyone can see; it’s more like a feeling I have. I don’t think he’s someone you want to cross paths with when he’s truly mad. You might think he’s a rolling stone, Nem, but I think he’s solid granite. And if there’s a fight to be fought, I’d want to be beside him, not opposite him.”
Emma had to agree. There was much more to Benjamin Sinclair than he let on. There was a hard side. Maybe even a lethal side.
There definitely was a controlled side.
She remembered the morning they had awoken in the forest, and the gun he had pulled at the threat of danger. The same gun he hadn’t drawn while four men beat him senseless, because he hadn’t wanted things to escalate to the point of no return.
That required a strength most men lacked.
The day Galen Simms had attacked her, she’d gotten a glimpse of Ben coming near the edge of violence. But even then, it had been a controlled deadliness.
“You may be right, Mikey. I would bet Medicine Creek Camps that we’ve only seen the civilized surface of Ben. And like you, I don’t ever want to be opposite him when that veneer comes off.”
“Then you had better marry the man, Nem. For both our sakes.”
“He told you!”
He grinned over at her. “I’m his greatest ally.”
“Well, Mr. Ally, we’re here,” Emma snapped, refusing to discuss the subject. “Bank left and let’s see what’s down there.”
Nothing was down there. Nothing but old-growth forest for miles and miles. They circled three times before Emma decided they’d have to put down and walk to the spot. She pointed out a marginal-sized pond and Mikey expertly circled the area, deciding how he wanted to land. Like the proficient natural bush pilot he was, he picked a spot and set the Cessna down with plenty of room to spare.
“Grab the GPS and Homer,” she said as she reached behind them for the packs. “I would say we’ve got about a mile to go.”
It turned out to be more like two, since they had to sidetrack around a deep gully. Using her handheld global positioning device, Emma was able to lock in the position and walk until the system said they were standing on the spot.
“There’s nothing here,” Mikey said. “Just trees.”
Emma frowned. He was right; there was nothing but forest for hundreds of acres in all directions.
“I know I copied the coordinates down right. I double-checked.” She laughed. “I dislike that man so much, I conjured up a mystery that doesn’t exist.”
“It still beats stacking wood.”
“Not really. At least we would’ve had something to show for our efforts.”
“Let’s spread out and widen the circle,” he suggested, setting Homer down and dropping his backpack beside the bird. “Maybe Wayne found the site of an old logging camp from the last century. Or a rusting Lombard. There’s supposed to be several of those old steam engines rotting away out here.”
“Maybe this was an old meeting spot for him and Kelly.” Emma dropped her pack beside Mikey’s.