Deadly Currents (13 page)

He gave her a dismissive wave and started trudging up the trail to the upper edge of the gorge, shoulders slumped. If he had killed his father, the financial outcome certainly wasn’t what he expected.

_____

After shuffling paperwork all afternoon in the AHRA ranger office, Mandy was more than ready to head outside. She called David at her uncle’s office, and he assured her he could check in the afternoon trip without her. So, she could fulfill her promise to volunteer as a river rescuer for the Media Challenge race in the Salida Whitewater Park.

The race was an excuse for spectators to jeer at local media celebrities and reporters for outdoor adventure magazines as they tried to navigate bright blue or yellow inflatable duckies through the gentle rapids. Most of the contestants took it in stride, hamming it up for the crowd.

To make it more difficult for them, ropes were strung across the river, from which hung paired-pole “gates” through which they were supposed to navigate their skittish craft. Since many were neophytes to whitewater, just staying upright and dry was usually the main goal. Mandy expected to have to fish quite a few out of the water.

While she meandered through the milling crowds and past the craft and food booths to reach the river, the tantalizing aromas of cotton candy, kettle corn, and roasted turkey legs reminded her that she’d skipped lunch. Maybe she could grab something to eat after the race.

A Frisbee sailed by, and Ajax leapt up to snag it. Yelling, “Catch, Mandy,” he tossed it to her.

She caught it, flipped it back to him and waved goodbye. “Gotta go fishing.”

Once she reached the river, Mandy teamed up with Kendra in one of her uncle’s rafts. They waited in an eddy below the biggest drop, the most likely place for racers to wash out. Kendra paddled while Mandy grabbed swimmers by the shoulder straps of their PFDs and hauled them in. They often landed right on top of her, so she was soon soaked. She didn’t mind, though. The dampness cut the heat of the warm, sunny day. After ferrying the sheepish reporter or news anchor to shore, she and Kendra would head back to their post to catch their next fish.

Everyone along the banks was enjoying themselves, clapping and hollering at the racers, and the beer was flowing as freely as the river. Mandy kept a sharp eye trained on the crowded banks on either side. A drunken spectator stumbling and falling in the fast-moving water, with no PFD or helmet and possibly no inkling of how to swim, was even more of a concern to her than the safety of the race participants.

During a lull between heats, Kendra rested her arms on the paddle across her knees. “What’s going to happen to your uncle’s company, Mandy?”

Mandy shot her a sharp glance. “Why do you ask?”

“There’ve been rumors among the guides that the business is in trouble and might close.” She held out her palms. “Not that I want it to happen at all, but if it’s going to, I need to know. All of us do. We’re living paycheck to paycheck, most of us, and gotta start hustling for new work if the moola’s gonna stop.”

While Kendra talked, Mandy spotted Lenny Preble and a small group of followers passing through the crowd on the opposite bank. The environmentalists were thrusting flyers into people’s hands. Often as not, once they had moved on, the flyers were dropped on the ground. Another trash cleanup job for Lenny was in the works—one of his own making.

Mandy looked back at Kendra and saw the deep concern furrowing the young woman’s brow. “We don’t have plans to close the business anytime soon. David and I are looking for someone to manage it when I can’t be there. I promise you, if for any reason we have to close before the end of the season, I’ll make sure you guides have at least three weeks’ notice.”

Kendra blew out a breath. “That’s a relief.”

Mandy returned to checking the crowd. A tow-headed little boy, about five or six years old, chased a springer spaniel with a Frisbee clenched in its mouth onto a pile of rocks jutting out into the current. Just as Mandy was about to holler, “Get off those rocks,” the boy stumbled and fell in the water.

“Let’s go,” Mandy yelled to Kendra.

As the boy’s head popped up out of the water and the current swept him toward the bridge, a man leapt in the water after him with a big sploosh.

A collective gasp went up from the people nearby.

Damn, now there are two of them.
Mandy kept her gaze trained on both heads while Kendra shoved on the paddles.

They reached the man first, but he refused to be hauled in. “Get my son!” he sputtered. Before Mandy could grab him, he kicked off from the side of the raft.

Steve’s advice after the Tom King incident would point to saving the man first. Given the man’s refusal, however, Mandy had no choice but to do what he said. She yelled at Kendra, “Head for the boy.”

Not much of a swimmer himself, the man’s arms flailed in the current while he strained to catch up to his son.

Kendra’s paddle power was more effective, and the raft nudged ahead of him.

After two more strokes, Mandy could reach the boy. She grabbed him under the armpits and hauled back. With his light weight, he almost flew out of the water and landed on the other side of the raft.

He laughed. “That was awesome!”

“Glad you think so,” Mandy said with a grin and turned to Kendra. “Let’s pick up his father.”

Kendra nodded and back-paddled to slow the raft and ease up next to the floundering man.

He grabbed onto the side of the raft. Breathing heavily, he coughed a couple of times. “My son. Is he okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Mandy said. “Let’s get you in the raft now. When I pull under your arms, kick your legs as hard as you can to help me lift you in.”

She rested her knees against the side of the raft, slid her hands under his armpits. “Now.”

It took all her strength, but with him kicking, she was able to haul him halfway in. She grabbed his belt and spun his legs into the raft.

He flopped on the bottom of the raft, coughed a few more times, and held out his arms to the boy. “Come here, Ricky.”

The boy fell on his father’s chest, making the man gag again, and hugged him tightly. The boy seemed to be fine, but Mandy worried about the father, who seemed to be having trouble catching his breath. She observed them both carefully while she and Kendra ferried them to shore.

After the man and his son climbed out and thanked them, Mandy said to Kendra, “I’m going with them. Once I’m sure they’re okay, I’ll catch up with you.”

“No rush,” Kendra replied. “We’ve got plenty of rescuers here hoping for a chance to pull a celebrity out of the water.”

Mandy trotted after the wheezing man and his son. “Sir, I’d feel a lot better if you two came with me to the first aid station.”

“Why? We’re fine. What I need to do is find our dog and get my son home so we can change out of these wet clothes.”

Typical macho male.
Knowing he wouldn’t go for himself, she appealed to his fatherly concern. “I’d like to have the paramedics check your son. Make sure he didn’t swallow too much water. Then you can look for your dog. The tent’s this way.”

To prevent further argument, she took hold of the boy’s hand. “I hear they have lollipops, too.”

“Cool!”

With the boy skipping excitedly at her side, Mandy started walking toward the first aid tent. He didn’t seem to care a whit that he was soaking wet. At least it was warm enough in the sun that Mandy didn’t have to worry about hypothermia.

The man followed, though his steps seemed slow and reluctant. He kept looking around, searching for the dog.

One of Lenny’s flyers blew across the grass and stuck to Mandy’s calf. She pulled the paper off and stuffed it in her pocket.
I’ve got to get Lenny to clean these up.

About the time they reached the first aid tent, the family dog ran up to them, its fur drenched. The plastic blue Frisbee was still clutched in its mouth.

The father plopped down on a chair and petted the dog while a first-aid staffer checked out his son and handed the boy his much-anticipated lollipop.

“No problems here,” the staffer said to her.

She pointed her chin at the boy’s father. “Check the dad.”

“I don’t need to be checked.” The father stood, and his hand went to his chest.

“Did you happen to swallow or breathe in any water when you were in the river?” Mandy asked him.

“Yeah, I think so.” He gestured to the boy. “C’mon, son, time to go.”

The attendant who had checked the boy was hearing all this, but he didn’t seem to have the same alarm bells ringing in his head that Mandy did. He busied himself with stowing supplies.

Am I being overcautious? Am I going to make this father angry for no good reason?
Mandy’s stomach rumbled. She was hungry, the man wasn’t cooperative, and having handed him over to the first aid tent, he wasn’t her responsibility any longer. Maybe she should just let him go on his way. Then she could grab something to eat.

The father and son turned to leave.

Mandy bit her lip and reviewed the symptoms in her mind. The feeling that something wasn’t right nagged at her again.
No, I’ve got to stop him.

She put a hand on the man’s arm to prevent him from leaving. “What’s it feel like when you take a deep breath?”

The man looked at her with annoyance, but she kept her hand on his arm. “Take one now.”

He drew in a deep breath. He promptly started coughing and clenched his chest. When he got his breath back, he said, “It feels like a fire burning in my chest.”

“Please sit down.”

“Oh, c’mon.”

Mandy made her voice more forceful. “Please sit down, sir.” She stared at him until he slid back into his chair.

The attendant, who had been listening, pulled Mandy aside, out of hearing of the father. “You think this is a parking lot drowning?”

Mandy nodded. “If we don’t get him to a hospital, he could die.”

“Keep him here. I’ll call an ambulance.” The attendant walked over to the phone on the check-in table.

Mandy squatted beside the gasping father. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, sir, but your condition is serious. We’re calling an ambulance for you.”

The man’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m not. You aspirated some water into your lungs when you were in the river. The water’s breaking down the surfactant in your lungs that keeps fluids from clogging the airways. So now, body fluids are leaking in, filling up your lungs. Pretty soon, you won’t be able to breathe.”

“It doesn’t feel that bad to me. I don’t really need to go to the hospital, do I?”

Mandy had to convince him how serious this was. She appealed to his fatherly concern again. “Only if you want to be around tomorrow to play Frisbee with your son.”

So we beat on, boats against the current,
borne back ceaselessly into the past.

—
The Great Gatsby
, Francis Scott Fitzgerald

Mandy stayed to ensure
that the man and his son were loaded into an ambulance. When he called his wife, Mandy got on the cell phone to explain the urgency of his case. She didn’t hand the phone back until she was sure his wife would take over in nagging her husband to submit to treatment.

The first-aid attendant promised he would watch the dog, which Mandy had tethered to a nearby tree.

Once convinced she had done all she could, Mandy set off through the crowd to find Lenny Preble. She picked up a couple of the flyers along the way. Below a muddy smudge, the title of one read, “Save the Arkansas!” A cartoon below it showed a devil dumping a front loader full of uprooted trees into the river. Overkill, but it got the point across.

While searching a block lined with vendors of outdoor sports equipment, adventure magazines, freeze-dried hiking foods, and high-tech sun protection products, she spotted Lenny and his gang wolfing down granola samples at a natural foods booth. In addition to the forest green T-shirts, they all wore matching baseball caps emblazoned with Lenny’s nonprofit logo. She walked over to them. “Hi, Lenny.”

“I see you have some of our flyers,” he mumbled, then swallowed his mouthful. “How do you like the devil cartoon? I drew that one myself.”

Mandy thought she recognized some familiar features in the devil’s face. “Who’d you base the devil on?”

Lenny grinned and sidled up to her. “Can you keep a secret, since I don’t want to disparage the dead? The flyers were printed a couple of weeks ago. I modeled the devil after Tom King. Though Nate Fowler’s not much better. You think the flyers get the message across?”

“Yes, I do. Unfortunately, a lot of them, like these, are winding up on the ground.”

“Stupid tourists.” Lenny waved his hand at a nearby trash receptacle. “Can’t they see the trash cans all over the park? If they don’t want to read about how developers are ruining the river, the least they can do is properly dispose of the flyer.”

Mandy nodded. “No disagreement here. I know how much you care about the river, Lenny, with your litter patrols. I was wondering if your group would be willing to do one along the festival grounds.” She held out the muddy flyers she had picked up. “Since some of the litter, unfortunately, is indirectly coming from you.”

A scowl crossed Lenny’s face. He pulled out his car keys and handed them to one of his cohorts. “Go get some of the heavy-duty trash bags out of my car.”

He made a point of deliberately walking over to the trash can next to the granola stand and throwing his bowl in there. He glared at all the tourists around him and cleared his throat loudly at two teenage girls who had gotten up from a table and left their bowls.

They sheepishly returned and threw the bowls in the can.

“Thank you very much.” Lenny’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He took the flyers out of Mandy’s hand and dropped them on top of the granola bowls.

“And thank you, Lenny. I knew I could count on you,” Mandy said. “Just like you picked up all the trash from the donuts and drinks you served on the trip last week.”

“How’d you know about the snacks?”

Rather than reveal that the police now had the trash, Mandy told a white lie. “Gonzo told me. He loves donuts. Were you the one who handed them out, and the drinks?”

Lenny’s eyes narrowed. “Noooo, not all of them. A lot of people helped themselves or passed things to others in their family or raft.”

“Who gave Tom King his?”

“How the hell should I know?” Lenny said with a shrug. “I wasn’t paying attention. Why’s it matter to you, anyway?”

“You know that Tom was poisoned, right?”

“Yeah, it was in the paper. How do you think the cops found it? The autopsy?”

Mandy shrugged.
I know, but I’m not telling.

Indignation purpling his face, Lenny snapped to military attention as if someone had rammed a rod down the back of his shirt. “He couldn’t have been poisoned by the snacks. No way. The drink bottles were shrink-wrapped, and the donut boxes still had the tape on them from the store. Besides, I heard he was poisoned hours before the trip started.”

“Who said that?”

Lenny waved his long-fingered hand dismissively. “Any of at least fifty people who’ve accosted me in the past few days. Everyone wants to find out what I know about King’s death and to tell me what they think happened. I hope you haven’t been listening to people’s wild-assed theories.”

He thrust out his chin. “Who thinks I killed Tom King?”

Mandy put up her palms. “No one’s accusing you, Lenny, especially not me.”

Thankfully, his cohort returned with the trash bags and tossed Lenny’s car keys back to him.

“I’ll let you get to work,” Mandy said, backing off. “Thanks again for volunteering to pick up the litter.”

Lenny grabbed a trash bag from his friend. “You know, some people in this town deserve to be stuffed in a trash can like the rest of the garbage.”

_____

Mandy wrinkled her nose at the giant pretzel smothered in warmed-over cheese sauce that she had bought for her dinner. Tentatively, she took a bite, chewed the cloying lump, and swallowed. It wasn’t her usual natural fare, but it would quiet the beast growling in her stomach. And it was the cheapest meal she could find among the food booths at the festival. She forced herself to take another bite and looked upstream at the starting line of the Raft Rodeo.

She had wormed her way into a prime spot along the railing of the F Street Bridge spanning the river, so she could watch Rob compete. He and his secret partner, whom he had refused to name to Mandy, had been practicing at the Salida Whitewater Park whenever they could get free in the evenings. The prizes were a joke, because the race was designed primarily to entertain the crowd, but the competition for bragging rights among the outfitters was fierce.

Mandy spied David strolling along the paved path next to the river, his gaze scanning the crowd. She waved to him and yelled his name.

He waved back and headed toward her.

While she waited, she took a few swallows from her water bottle to rinse the glue-like cheese out of her mouth. Even though it was approaching 6:30 pm, the start time of the race, the hot sun was still baking the crowd. The sun wouldn’t set for two more hours, so sales of cold beer, sodas, and water bottles were brisk. She smiled at a knot of giggling teenagers who were using the heat as an excuse to rub ice cubes across each other’s necks and backs—preferably a member of the opposite sex.

David came up behind her and peered over her shoulder at the paper plate in her hand. “You going to finish that? I’m famished.”

Mandy glanced at the half-eaten pretzel, the sauce congealing, and handed it to him. “Take it from me, please.”

She waited for him to take a few ravenous bites. “How’d things go today?”

“Not bad. We had some walk-ins. Two couples. So we sent three rafts down Brown’s Canyon this afternoon instead of two.”

Four was better, even five, but with their fifth raft blown, that wasn’t possible. Before Mandy could ask David if he had come across any good news, or more likely, more bad news in her uncle’s books that day, the announcer introduced the first heat of rafts.

One team, the “Whitey Tighteys,” wore briefs over their poly leggings, and another had a large golden retriever wearing a doggy PFD sitting in their raft as ballast. The dog didn’t help much. When the paddlers tried to stand their raft on its end in the play hole above the town launch ramp, all three occupants went for a swim.

The underwear-clad team executed a spin, set their raft on its side in the hole, and surfed back and forth to cheers from the crowd. After peeling out, they stood and bowed while their raft bobbed down the river.

“That’ll be a tough team to beat,” David said to Mandy.

Mandy grinned back. “Just wait. I bet Rob’s got some tricks up his sleeve.” Then she remembered she was supposed to be mad at him.

David pushed forward to stand beside her and leaned on the bridge’s concrete railing. “You know, Mandy, I’m convinced Rob’s motives for offering to buy the company aren’t selfish. He’s not trying to steal Uncle Bill’s customers. He really wants to help us.”

“I know that now, after sleeping on it. But that’s not really why I’m mad at you two.”

David stared at her, puzzle lines wrinkling his forehead. “I don’t understand.”

“See, that’s another symptom of the whole problem. You and Rob are both so wrapped up in taking charge and making decisions that you can’t even see when you’re stepping on people.”

“You think we’re stepping on you?” Realization dawned on his face. “Oh, you wanted a say in the decision. But that’s why Rob and I wanted to talk to you, to explain his proposal—”

“Dammit, David.” Mandy slapped the concrete, making her hand sting. “Rob should have come to me first with that proposal, not you, or at the very least, both of us. I should have been in on it from the get-go. Uncle Bill
did
leave half the business to me, you know.”

“Step into Rob’s shoes for a minute. You’ve been so touchy around him lately, then you were grieving for Uncle Bill. He was afraid to approach you with the idea, afraid to approach you at all.”

Mandy frowned. “Is there anything about our relationship that Rob
hasn’t
told you?”

“Frankly, I don’t want to know anything about my little sister’s love life, even the fact that you have one. I still like to think of you as an innocent teenager.”

He flashed a smile to show he was joking, but when Mandy thrust her jaw out at him, the smile faded. “C’mon, Mandy, we’re not trading secrets behind your back.”

“No, just conspiring behind my back. Planning my future without my input. Like I’m still a helpless kid, which in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at a raft attempting an end-o in the play hole. She barely noticed when it flipped over.

David put a hand on her arm to turn her toward him. “No, you’re not still a kid. I’m sorry if I treated you that way. I’m just—” He let go of her arm. “Just trying to make up for
…
you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

David leaned forward on the railing and stared at the water rushing under the bridge. “For not helping you more after Mom and Dad died. For palming you off on Uncle Bill so I could finish my degree.”

“I never felt like I’d been palmed off.”

“Well, I felt damned guilty for doing it.”

Mandy threw an arm around his back and talked softly into his ear. “Don’t David. I love, loved, Uncle Bill, and he gave me everything—a home, education, security, and a shoulder to cry on whenever I needed it. You couldn’t have done all that. You were only nineteen yourself.”

“I could have given you that shoulder,” David mumbled. “And when I heard Uncle Bill had died, and you were alone again, the guilt came rushing back. I wanted to do a better job of it this time, make up for neglecting you before.”

“So that’s why you’re meddling in my life.”

“Meddling!”

When David looked at Mandy, she half-smiled to show she was half-joking.

“Okay, point taken,” he said. “Sorry I tried to make decisions for you.”

“Apology accepted. Now, if I could just make Rob understand.”

“I’m sure you can. He seems like the kind of guy who’ll listen. And he loves you, Mandy.”

A thrill went through her. “You think so?”

David arched a brow. “Oh, yeah.”

Just then, the announcer’s voice bellowed over the loudspeaker, “Our next entry is the infamous swordsman, El Zorro, and his voluptuous wife, Elena!”

“That’s got to be Rob. Zorro’s his hero.” Mandy craned her neck to search upriver for Rob’s raft.

“Who’s the well-endowed Elena?” asked David.

“I have no idea.” Mandy spied the raft and pointed.

Rob stood in the front of the raft, flourishing a rubber sword and wearing a black mask, black cape, and black gaucho hat tied over his helmet. His obviously male partner in the back wore a long black wig over his helmet. Two soccer balls jiggled under his extra-extra large red dress, their white hexagons peeking out from the gaping top.