“Well, it was more of an accident than anything else.” She smiled and tucked one of her crazy curls back behind her ear and giggled. “It doesn’t take much bravery to fall down a hill and practically land on a lost person. I’m just glad we found her, thank God. I spent a lot of time praying for Rachel that night.”
“I’m glad you’re both okay.” He walked with her across the gym, not even responding to some of the team’s catcalls and whistles. “But seriously, it takes a lot of courage to go out in the dark to look for someone else. Especially in the Kitchigami Wilderness Preserve. That’s where the Windigo lives, like we talked about.”
Emily giggled. “I didn’t see the Windigo the other night—did you?” She wouldn’t dare admit to him that she’d been nervous thinking about the monster the whole time they’d been out. But she’d been in the woods, in the dark . . . it was only natural for her mind to play tricks on her.
“My people don’t believe it’s just an old story. Some of our elders have seen the Windigo in the woods. Mostly during the winter. That’s when we need the most protection.”
He had to be yanking her chain, teasing her to see if he could scare her. But Brandon didn’t look like he was kidding, and he wasn’t the type to scare someone for a joke.
“God is the provider of all protection, Brandon. Surely you know that?”
“You have your faith, and I have mine.”
“But you believe in God, right?” She stopped just outside the gym door and peered into his chocolate-colored eyes. “And you don’t really believe in the Windigo, do you?”
He paused, looking off in the distance toward Lake Superior. “Let’s just say that I believe you can’t have good without evil and that the world we live in is a balance between the two.” He turned and headed back into the gym without another word.
What did that mean? She shuddered at the conviction she’d seen on his face. It seemed as though he had as much faith in the Windigo as she had in God and Jesus. Could he have actually seen the Windigo?
The television blasted in the living room as Naomi quizzed Emily on her history with the flash cards. Every move made her shoulder hurt, and it was making Emily cranky.
But the television sounded louder than normal today. Timmy couldn’t get enough of that stupid cartoon he had to watch. Every. Single. Day. It wore on Emily’s last nerve. Or maybe she just needed another pain pill.
Naomi set the cards aside, then checked the chili in the slow cooker. “Timmy! Time to carry out the trash and wash up. You need to set the table.”
“Aw. Can’t I finish watching my show first?”
“No. Come on.”
Emily’s cell phone rang. Probably Olivia, but maybe she had some information on Mr. Lancaster. Emily dug it out of her pocket. “Hello?”
“Emily? It’s Inetta.”
“Oh, hi.” She moved to the pantry. “What’s up?”
“Listen, just wanted to give you a heads-up that we’re going to run a follow-up on Mary Dancer. I’m on my way to interview her now.”
“Really?” Emily thought Inetta was her friend.
“Yeah, she called Mr. Farmer and said the necklace was still missing and she didn’t see much progress on the case from the sheriff, so she asked that we run a follow-up. I argued that I didn’t think it was needed, but Mr. Farmer thought otherwise. He’s sending a photographer too.”
“I see. Thanks for letting me know.” But she still was no further along on her suspects. All she’d managed to do was eliminate a few of them. The news article would just make everyone talk about her more.
“Why don’t you come by the office after school tomorrow? Even if you can’t give me a counter-interview, at least you’ll know what’s going in the paper before it hits.”
Timmy ran down the hallway. Seemed like he had to run everywhere he went these days.
“Okay, thanks for letting me know. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.” She pushed the phone back into her pocket and stepped out of the pantry.
Naomi glanced at her. “Will you go put on the news so your dad can listen when he comes in and washes up?” She turned toward the bar stool where Matthew sat. “No, sir. You may not color on the counter.”
Emily grinned and headed into the living room. She punched the button for the local news station and tossed the remote on top of one of Naomi’s never-ending supply of books on the end table. She moved to head back to the kitchen when the reporter’s words registered.
“Just an hour ago, a surfer on Lake Superior wiped out. According to eyewitnesses, his board hit him over the head, rendering him unconscious.”
Emily froze. Fear of drowning kept her rooted to the spot, staring at the television.
The reporter standing outside the hospital continued, “Hospital staff has told us that the surfer is in critical condition here at Rock Harbor Hospital. This is Anula Grace, reporting live.”
Emily closed her eyes as the image of the Superior’s raging surf filled her mind, taking her back to another time. Her heart pounded as she pictured the water pushing against that poor surfer. Against her.
The lake was cold, but six-year-old Emily didn’t mind. She shrieked when the waves hit her belly, then laughed and splashed Rachel.
Rachel screamed and ran back toward the sand. She scowled back at Emily, then went to her mother and pointed. Emily stuck her tongue into the hole where her tooth used to be. It hurt but felt good in a funny kind of way. She could just feel the edge of the new tooth coming in. Someday she would have beautiful white teeth like her mommy.
At the thought of her mother, she sought out a bright splash of red standing with two men. Daddy had met them here, but he’d started frowning when Mommy talked to the man in the blue swim trunks. Before Emily knew it, he’d had to go back to work. She waved at her mother, who didn’t wave back.
A tight knot built in Emily’s chest. Mommy never seemed to notice her. She fawned over Timmy sometimes, but the only time she said much to Emily was to tell her to watch out for her little brother. Out of habit, Emily’s gaze went to where Timmy was building a sand castle with three other little kids. He was fine. She could enjoy herself. Waving at Rachel, she waded out into the waves until they were up to her chest.
It was so cold! Her teeth chattered a little, but she wasn’t a baby. She even knew how to read a little now. And her daddy had taught her how to dog-paddle, so when the next wave passed, she kicked out her feet and dog-paddled a bit in the water.
“Look at me, Mommy!” she yelled above the waves, but her mother still paid no attention.
Maybe if she went out deeper and showed how big she was, Mommy would notice. She paddled a little farther out. What a good swimmer she was! Daddy would be impressed if he were here. She could swim clear out to the foghorn buoy all by herself. This swimming was easy. With a backward glance, she checked to make sure her mother wasn’t smiling at her, then struck out toward the buoy. It wasn’t that far.
She’d gone a few feet when a large wave came out of nowhere and caught her in the face. The cold water closed over her head, and she couldn’t breathe. Which way was up? Where was the sky? She couldn’t find it as she fought to get her head above the water. The wave churned her over sand along the bottom, and if she could have breathed, she would have cried at the pain in her arm and knee.
Just when she thought she would have to breathe or die, the wave tossed her to the top again. She sucked in a deep breath and began to cry weakly. Reaching out with one foot, she tried to touch bottom and couldn’t. Her chest squeezed, and she tried to scream for her mother, but the wind snatched her cry away. Gulls cawed overhead as though mocking her.
All she had to do was dog-paddle back to shore. Daddy had taught her. She could do it. But when she looked at the shore, it was so far away that she began to cry harder. “Mommy!” Fear dragged at her limbs, and she found it hard to keep her head above water.
She swallowed another mouthful of water and tried again. She couldn’t make it.
She screamed the next time her head bobbed up over the water. “Help!”
A man sitting on the beach with his wife looked up and down the beach, then out to the water. At first, he gazed about only five feet from the shore. She screamed again, and he saw her. He plunged into the water and swam toward her. Another wave hit her and propelled her to the sandy bottom again. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the cold water squeezing the life out of her. Her hands grasped fistfuls of sand. She needed to go up to where there was air.
Her lungs burned, and she struggled to figure out how to get her head above the water. Then fingers wrapped around the crisscross straps on the back of her swimsuit and yanked her up. She had to breathe—she had to. Unable to help herself, she inhaled and water burned its way into her lungs and nose. Then her head crested the water.
She was still choking and couldn’t breathe. The next thing she knew, she was on the sand and water was pouring out of her nose and mouth. When she could finally breathe again, people were all around. She was so embarrassed she started to cry, but the man gathered her in his arms. She clung to him until her mother rushed toward her.
“Oh, my darling Emily. Are you okay?” Mommy pulled her from the man. She stood, holding Emily tight. “Are you all right, honey?” She grabbed Timmy’s hand and led them toward the car, never even bothering to thank the man for pulling Emily out of the water.
Mommy put Timmy in his car seat, then helped Emily into the backseat. “You’re okay, aren’t you? You’re Mommy’s big girl, right?” She smiled and pushed the curls off Emily’s forehead.
She loved that Mommy looked at her right now with all the attention she used to. “Yes, Mommy.”
“Good. Good. That’s my sweetheart. There’s no reason for Daddy to know about your little incident, right? We wouldn’t want him to think you were still a baby and he shouldn’t take you swimming anymore, would we? This can be our little secret.” Mommy put her hands on her hips and stared at Emily. Then she smiled. “You won’t tell Daddy our little secret, will you?”
“No, Mommy.” She swallowed. She didn’t care if Daddy ever took her anywhere near the water. She just wanted to be home in her bed and never put a toe in the lake ever again.
“Emily, what’s wrong?” Naomi stood behind the couch. “Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
She shuddered and forced the memory away. She stood slowly, her legs still weak under her weight. “A surfer wiped out and is in the hospital.”
“Oh, mercy. I know how the water scares you.” Naomi came and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
Emily let Naomi’s loving touch give her strength. She’d never told Dad the secret. Just kept it inside until it no longer mattered. But it did. She’d kept an important secret from Dad, all because her mother had manipulated her, just like she always did.
No matter if her mother made parole or whatever, Emily would never speak to her.
SEVENTEEN
“I can’t believe Mrs. Dancer called the paper and asked for a follow-up interview.” Emily stomped down the street with Olivia. Thank goodness her shoulder was a little better today, because every time she’d rolled over on it last night, it had woken her up with pain. “It’s like she wants the sheriff to arrest me or something.”
Olivia chuckled. “I bet the sheriff would like this to be solved, Em. It’s an election year. Mayor Kaleva has already started with her campaign calls and flyers. The sheriff is her husband, and if he can’t get a big case like this solved, it might make her look bad.” She gestured to the papers on the street post at the intersection of Jack Pine and Houghton. “Bet she’ll use the surfing championship this weekend to campaign big-time.”
Was the surfing championship really this weekend? Emily felt horrible for having to resign from the team with the championship so close. She could only pray someone else would step up and volunteer to help them.
“Maybe so, but I hope he isn’t so pressured to solve the case that he just blames me based on what we know right now.”
“I don’t think Sheriff Kaleva would do that. He’s got a pretty good reputation in town. I don’t think he would judge so quickly.”
Guilt formed a lump in Emily’s throat. She’d been as judgmental as everyone else—immediately suspecting Mrs. Cooper just because the lady needed money to support her family. They were all wrong to jump to conclusions. Had she learned nothing in all the Bible studies she’d participated in over the years? She licked her lips.
“Hey, look.” Emily grabbed Olivia’s arm.
“What?”
“Is that Mr. Lancaster coming out of the inn?”
The small neon sign over the building across the street from the Suomi Café read ROCK HARBOR INN. Emily remembered learning about Rock Harbor’s history in school. The building that was now the inn had been a French trading post in the town’s glory days in the 1800s. A man who looked an awful lot like Mr. Lancaster stood just outside the inn’s front door, looking up and down Houghton Street as if he were lost.
“That’s him.” Olivia gasped. “What’s he doing?”
“I don’t know. Looks like he’s waiting on something.”
“Should we follow him?” This could be a real lead, and she sure needed one with how fast she seemed to be scratching names off her list.
“Are you crazy?”
Before Emily could answer that, a dark car pulled up to the curb. Mr. Lancaster glanced around, then ducked into the backseat. The car roared off. “Guess we won’t be following him anywhere. Did you recognize the car?”
Olivia ignored her, dropping her backpack to the ground and digging around inside.
“What are you doing?”
“Shh.” She opened a notebook and jotted. Then she stood and smiled as she put everything into her pack and hoisted it over her shoulder. “I got the license plate number.”
Impressive. “That’s awesome, Liv, but, uh, what are you going to do with it?”
Excitement slid right off Olivia’s face. “I don’t know. People always get the license plate number in the movies and cop shows.”
“Hey, it might come in handy. If he goes missing, you’ll have something to give to the sheriff. Maybe that would help him solve the case.”
They turned onto Pepin Street and entered the newspaper office within minutes. Inetta waited in the front for them. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten me.”
“Of course not!” Emily said with a smile. Then she dumped her backpack on the floor and winced as it slid from her shoulder.
“What happened to you?”
Emily told Inetta the story.
“I’m glad you’re okay! I really should interview you and your stepmom about that SAR. It’d give you some great public opinion.”
Emily nodded. She probably needed it. “What did Mrs. Dancer say about me this time?”
“She didn’t point the finger at you, at least not by name. She’s offering a reward for the return of the missing necklace.”
“Really?” Dad had made it sound like Mrs. Dancer needed the money from the sale of the necklace. If that were the case, she wouldn’t have funds for any reward. “How much of a reward?”
“Five hundred.”
That was a lot of money! “Wow.”
“Yeah. Mary states, and I quote . . .” Inetta grabbed her laptop and set it on the counter. She used the laptop’s keypad and scrolled. “’My Sapphire Beauty is a one-of-a-kind necklace, with the special enchantment to keep the wearer safe from the clutches of the Windigo. The value, and the enchantment, are diminished if worn by someone who stole the necklace.’ End quote.”
“Do the Ojibwa really believe in the Windigo and charms of protection from it? It all seems so silly.”
Inetta shrugged. “I don’t know. She acted that way. Several of her family members were around during the interview, and they seemed serious enough about it.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m serious about that interview with you and Naomi. How about I come by
and talk with you both the day after tomorrow? After school? I’ll bring a photographer. I’ll call your dad and get permission.”
“Sure. I guess if Dad says it’s okay.” A feature might also provide some free publicity for the SAR training center. That might help her get her puppy even though she didn’t have enough money yet.
“Great. As you know, pictures make all the difference. I heard someone say that Mary’s jewelry sold more after we ran our feature article on the festival that highlighted her.”
Maybe that was how she could afford the reward money.
“We took more pictures of her and her jewelry today.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Look.” Inetta turned her laptop toward Emily. “Just click the arrow at the top right of the screen to scroll through these pictures. Mr. Farmer hasn’t decided which ones he’ll use with the article.” She pulled her iPhone from her pocket. “I’m going to call your dad, then set our interview in my calendar so I don’t forget.”
Emily stared at the first shot—Mrs. Dancer sitting behind a worktable, her beads and glass spread out. Another picture of Mrs. Dancer in front of a display. Probably wouldn’t use that one as two little kids were in the shot, too much to be cropped out. They must’ve run through just as the photo was taken. They reminded Emily of Timmy and Dave.
She smiled and scrolled to the next photo. Another picture of Mrs. Dancer, this time beside a display of her Ojibwa-centered items. They truly were some of her most beautiful work. One day Emily hoped to be that good.
“There. I have the interview with you and Naomi set for Thursday around three forty-five. I told your dad I wanted to prove your innocence.”
Emily nodded and started to scroll to the next picture, but stopped when she realized a person had been caught in this shot too. They could probably crop him out, though, as he was more in the background. Emily leaned closer to the laptop screen . . . There was something so familiar—
She sucked in air as she recognized the guy in the corner of the picture.