"Okay, listen up, you mushers!" Spike called out. "I'm almost done here, then a few more instructions. You'll be taking your teams in a straight line to the edge of the clearing, so just let them run. See that barrier of straw bales down there by the trees? You should try to stop them with the brake and yelling, 'Halt! Halt!' But if they don't, they'll stop at the bales. There's only one little dip in the course, a pretty straight shot, but if you want to walk it first, go ahead, then get back here for 'on your marks, get set--go!'"
He lowered his voice and looked at Christine again. "You want to try this sometime, just let me know. Or I can put you in the sled and off we go. Well, darn--a poet and I didn't know it."
He grinned as he went to get the first dog for the last sled. Christine gave the nearest husky another strong pat, and, smiling, went over to clean up the coffee cups.
Lisa surprised herself. Her insides were doing flip-flops when she didn't think driving a husky team on a sled--with wheels, no less--would bother her at all. Besides, after being in that monster river, as Jonas had called it, she didn't think anything would scare her again.
Just as when she was assigned to a new case, she'd done her best to assess this situation. She'd examined a sled close up, talked to the dogs, patted them, observed how eager they were to please. She had skipped the coffee, even though Spike had said anyone who wanted to could use the facilities in his log home. Anytime she got keyed up, she felt she had to run to the bathroom, and coffee wouldn't help.
She had only examined the course to the dip in the blowing grass, though the others were walking the entire distance. Looking at Jonas and Vanessa ahead of her, she realized she should have gone with them instead of continuing to study the dogs and the sleds, because she wanted to see how comfortable her rivals were together and around her.
It was still a long shot that they were working together against her, but they could have made a pact to reduce the senior partner candidates by one. After all, how many coworkers had tried to sabotage another's career? She'd had several defamation and discrimination cases based on that sad reality and had won good settlements for her clients, too.
She saw Mitch was finally alone, coming out of Spike's cabin, and she strode straight toward him. "Mitch, I need to talk to you privately and that's obviously easier said than done. I don't mean here--no time."
"I know. Rather than sneaking off the lodge grounds or whispering in a corner--or sneaking into each other's rooms--let's just make the lodge wine cellar our meeting place."
"I didn't see a wine cellar on our tour."
"I never show it, my ultimate sanctuary. The small door in the reading room goes down to it. There's a light switch at the top of the stairs. An underground room in Alaska is really rare with the permafrost and rock barriers under almost everything, but Uncle John dug it out bit by bit over the years. Close the door behind you and watch the steps going down, but once we're there, it's soundproof. Midafternoon, about three, okay? If someone's in the reading room so you can't come down then, we'll get a Plan B. Here comes Graham, so if you found out anything, save it until then--unless it's life-and-death."
You might know he'd put it that way, she thought, annoyed at him again for what he hadn't told her about Christine's past.
"One quick thing," he added, and she turned back. "Before breakfast, I went out and checked the site where you fell in. No telltale footprints since you and I, then Christine and Ginger, were all over the area and my shoving the kayak through obliterated a lot."
"Ginger was there?"
"She's the one who spotted the kayak trail from the water and told Christine. She said Ginger picked up the cooler you dropped and gave it back to her. They saw the food being eaten by a wolverine they surprised at his feast. So--site of the crime--nothing helpful."
"Hey, you two," Graham greeted them. "With all the time you had wandering in the wilderness, I'm glad you still have things to say to each other. I know there were hard feelings on both sides for a while, and I was hoping this visit would allow you to settle things before you both go back to your own worlds."
He stood between them, holding one of each of their upper arms so they were facing each other. Lisa had been planning to ask Graham to give her away at their wedding. Their positioning reminded her of that, as if Graham were ready to hand her over to Mitch at the front of the church.
"No, really," Graham went on, "did you get the past settled while you were gone? You used to be quite a legal team for us."
"Yes, we did reminisce a bit," Mitch told him. "Cleared the air, which is clear enough in Alaska anyway."
"I must apologize again for taking you two off the casino money-laundering case right after you told me you'd been seriously--secretly--dating, but, as I said then, I didn't mean it as any sort of censure or punishment. You know I was starting to have a concern that some of our clients or their competition were playing too rough, trying to find out how much we'd dug up."
Lisa said, "Being tailed and having my condo and car bugged with a listening device was a pretty good hint someone meant business. But it was a key case, Graham, with important repercussions to expose people in high places. We would have both stuck with it--"
"Except then," he interrupted, "when you didn't stick together personally, everything changed. Then, with Mitch leaving, I just couldn't have you alone on that case, Lisa."
"I'm glad you took her off it," Mitch admitted, "but Jonas could have come on board. I was surprised you got permission from the court to withdraw from the case, yet didn't report the harassment we were getting. Frankly, I was afraid someone had gotten to you--threatened you--to make you back off."
For a moment Graham looked furious. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed, but he quickly got control of himself. "No, nothing like that," he insisted, shaking his head and finally letting go of their arms.
"Yeah, but I could smell a distant rat behind our client's maneuverings," Mitch argued. "I just wonder how far the stench would have gone up the trail if we'd pursued it."
"Up the trail?" Graham challenged. "I'd say more like down to the dregs of society. Some sort of mobster or even foreign scum. So, did you two ever find--"
"Okay, mushers, let's go!" Spike's voice resounded. "And remember the key term for when you want your dogs to start running. I'm not gonna say it yet, or you'll be chasing your sleds. You'll shout the word. And don't use it unless you're set for a big jerk into action."
Lisa, Mitch and Graham went over to the starting line. "Just remember, hang on," Spike repeated. "Lisa, your sled is over there on that far side, Jonas in the middle, Vanessa here."
As she'd seen Spike do, Lisa climbed up on the back runners. They were plenty wide for her feet but were off the ground the height of the eight-inch wheels. She gripped the bar as he'd showed them and pressed the brake hard, to see how much it gave. "All right, boys and girls," she said to her team of four jumpy dogs, in the calmest but sternest voice she could manage, "we're going to win this race."
"Lisa," Jonas said beside her. "Graham's going to take pictures of me for Emerson, so could you and I switch sleds? That way I'd be on the outside where he can get better shots."
"I guess so," she said. "The sleds all look the same."
She jumped down and switched with him, talking now to these four eager dogs. Had Spike put Jonas between her and Vanessa's sleds because the middle team needed stronger handling, or had it been random? Whatever. She could handle the middle position.
Spike had his back to them as he talked to Vanessa. Did she need extra instructions or courage? Lisa heard her say, "These pets of yours are way bigger than my chihuahua, that's all!"
"These are working dogs!" Spike said, evidently not getting the humor. Then he bellowed, "Okay, everybody. Three, two, one--let's go!"
Lisa managed to shout "Mush!" to her team before the others did. The dogs jerked and strained in their harnesses; the towline pulled taut. She shot out in front, but the other two teams were soon nearly even with hers. The lunging huskie
s got the sleds going fast, faster.
It was exhilarating. As fast as on the river, but, thank heavens over solid ground and green grass. She felt she was flying, like riding the outer edge of a huge cresting wave. A sense of power, her own and the dogs', filled her. She held on for dear life, as Spike had said. Hang on--keep control. She had to control her investigation into who pushed her, but keep Mitch on her side, too. The wind whipped her hair. Was that just from her speed, or was a storm coming up? Beyond the forest, the cumulous clouds looked like snow-topped trees, and the lofty Talkeetnas speared the endless azure sky.
The dip in the ground came closer, closer. The dogs took it at full speed, down--up. She bounced hard at the bottom, almost off the runners, but held on. Vanessa was way behind, and Jonas...
He gave a shout, almost a shriek. Lisa turned her head only to see him fly backward off the sled while his team rushed on, dragging their towline while his empty sled slowed and stopped. She stepped hard on the brake, shouting, "Halt! Halt!"
Vanessa's dogs, then her sled, whizzed past as Lisa's team slowed. She stood on tiptoe on her sled and windmilled her arm for help from the others, then jumped off and ran to Jonas. He lay flat on his back in the grassy swale, staring straight up at the sky, not moving. Was he in shock? Paralyzed?
"Jonas?" she cried, kneeling next to him. "Jonas, are you hurt?"
Nothing at first. No response. It brought back to her the way she felt when Mitch pulled her out of the river. Dazed. Scared.
Mitch and Spike, both out of breath, got to them first, just as Jonas blinked, then shut his eyes tight before opening them again. Groaning, he looked up into Lisa's face, then, blessedly, moved his arms and legs.
"Not quite like the car wreck," he said, "but damn near."
"Thank God, you're all right," Mitch said, kneeling on his other side. "That's never happened before. Let's check for broken bones."
Graham, Ellie and Christine arrived, pressing in, and Vanessa came running back from the finish line where her team had stopped at the straw bales.
"Is he all right?" Graham demanded as Mitch and Spike helped him sit up slowly. "Jonas, that's going to be one hell of a picture for your boy to see."
"Yeah. I think I'm fine--just surprised," Jonas told them, moving his arms and legs again.
"Stand back and let him have a moment," Mitch said.
Lisa walked to Jonas's sled, where Spike was examining the towline. It was broken, but had it been chewed through, or even sawed apart? The end Spike held looked ragged. And no one had said so yet, but this sled was the one Spike had assigned to her.
When they all gathered in Spike's living room over more coffee and a tray of Ginger's cookies, Mitch was surprised that his old lawyer self rose to the surface. He knew Jonas could sue Spike or even him. Some attorneys were even more litigious than their clients.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Mitch asked Jonas again. "We can call for a doctor to check you out."
"No, I'm fine," Jonas told him. "If Lisa was fine after her much worse ordeal, I'm more than fine." They'd insisted he tilt back in Spike's leather recliner; the other chairs were all straight-backed Sitka spruce. "My pride's the only thing that's hurt, but my boy's going to get a good laugh out of it, and that's worth something. Those dogs must have almost chewed through that old, traditional leather towline you like, and you didn't spot it," he said, turning to Spike. "But we learn a lot from our mistakes. No, just like Lisa who walked miles with her bruises and pain, I'm raring to go. And I think we've had enough so-called accidents for one trip."
Spike looked like he wanted to defend his dogs, but he just nodded and mumbled that he was sorry. Actually, he was seething, because he thought he'd been set up, but Mitch had told him not to say anything about it, other than that he had no idea how the accident happened. Mitch's eyes met Lisa's across the pine-walled living room lined with aerial photos of Alaska. He wondered if she was thinking what he was--that Jonas might be using this accident to get attention, to draw it away from her harrowing river run. She'd been brave; now Jonas was making a comparison.
But could his former protege have set himself up for this? Mitch agonized. Jonas had traded sleds with Lisa at the last minute, changing what Spike had arranged, so rigging the potential accident--for Lisa--could also fall on Spike's shoulders. Or could Jonas have sawed through his own towline after the dogs started out? Spike had whispered he was positive that sabotaged piece of leather was intact before the race. And it was really worrying him that Jonas had just called what happened to him as well as to Lisa a "so-called" accident.
Mitch told Jonas, "I can walk back and get the truck so you can ride to the lodge."
"Hey, my man, I'm cool--really."
"Then we'll head back in about ten minutes," Mitch announced, forcing a smile. "Now, don't eat too many of Ginger's great sugar cookies, because we'll have a light lunch and then get some downtime this afternoon."
Mitch went into the kitchen and slipped out the back door to get a minute to himself. He loved his new life and trusted his staff, but something bad was going on here. Two potentially injurious, possibly fatal events with his old friends and associates--both maybe aimed at Lisa. He needed to clear his head.
Taking slow, deep breaths, he looked up at the vast sky. As usual, it seemed to offer several scenarios--clear blue to the east, gray clouds coming in, and to the north he could almost imagine the early wisps of the aurora borealis they'd enjoy this winter. But would he really enjoy it anymore during those long nights after Lisa had come here, walked here, slept here--then gone. Though the day was still warm, he hunched his shoulders as the wind ruffled at his shirt and hair. It would really ruin his and Graham's outdoor plans for these final days if the wind brought rain.
He turned to go back inside, but Graham stepped out, as if his thinking of the man had summoned him.
"Jonas is right," Graham said, blocking his way and stepping out to push him back a bit. He talked fast and low. "We all learn from our mistakes. As desperate as he is for money, it may have been his mistake--or even setup--but don't let on I said that. Anyway, I won't let Jonas sue, so stop worrying."
"You read me pretty well."
"So, Jonas's accident aside, how do you assess the way our three candidates reacted here today?"
Mitch cleared his throat, stalling to decide how forthright to be, then decided to just go with the truth, even though someone else here must be living a lie. Graham's support had meant a lot to him over the years, and he had been honored when the Bonners decided to bring the firm's business to him, especially after he'd deserted them. Besides betraying Lisa, letting Graham down then had also been hell.
"Lisa realized that understanding the dogs--maybe even bonding with them--was what mattered," he told Graham. "Jonas and Vanessa walked the entire course to check out the lay of the land, which was good, but Spike had suggested that. Lisa went down partway, but she was doing more homework and independent thinking in what was a new situation."
"True," Graham agreed. "Points on all sides, but advantage Lisa--and I won't call you prejudiced for her on that. Plus, she was willing to forfeit winning the race to stop and help Jonas. Sympathy, empathy, whatever you want to call it, has always been one of her strengths, probably because of her own tragedy."
Yeah, Mitch thought, unless it meant understanding and forgiving the man she'd promised to marry. But he said only, "Vanessa claimed she didn't see Jonas was down."
"Do you believe her?"
"No. I saw her turn back and look, but she must have either decided Lisa could handle it or that she wanted to win the race at any cost. And I think she was scared of the dogs, despite how two other women--Lisa and Christine--were making friends with them. But this outdoor life stuff is hardly Vanessa's thing. She can come off as bold, almost brazen, but strange situations can scare her. I think she knows things aren't black and white, but always sees potential problems in between."
"As a lawyer, she's got to learn to deal with the gra
ys, then present them to a jury or judge as black and white, if need be. So the question is, if Vanessa lied to protect herself, is that a weakness or strength for being senior partner? Let's face it, having a savvy Latina as senior partner's a good move for the firm--a woman, and one who's the right ethnic mix for South Florida," Graham said.
"I'd like to think you'll make your final decision on who will tell you the truth in any sort of a race or struggle--or when the pressure's on in a case, black, white or gray."
Graham's steely eyes met Mitch's steady stare.
"Mitch, a word to the wise." Graham tapped his index finger on Mitch's chest as he spoke. "Whether or not Jonas is milking this accident for all it's worth to get attention today, if you take other bonding groups to Spike for sledding on grass or snow, make sure he examines his equipment. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and you are, so watch him. And I don't want Ellie going up alone in that plane with him again," he concluded and went back inside.
Mitch was glad he'd left, because his first instinct was to defend Spike. And he would defend him--and himself--if anything came of a potential lawsuit later, no matter what Graham had just promised. At least he'd jumped through the proper hoops to be able to practice law in this state. Sure, he needed to keep an eye on Spike, but on everyone else, including--as much as it hurt him to think it--Graham. And, evidently, he was just blowing it off that Jonas might have sabotaged his own towline so that he could milk the situation for his own benefit, despite the risk of injury. Jonas was a good athlete, a former college football player who no doubt knew how to take falls. If Graham knew all that, he wasn't letting on. So, how truthful was his former mentor and boss in general?
Hell, Mitch groused silently as he headed back inside, once a suspicious lawyer, always a suspicious lawyer. But was someone after Lisa and/or Jonas? Was Vanessa to blame, or was she next in someone's vendetta? Or was all of this part of some sort of test he hadn't been clued in on, a secretive trial by the clever Graham Bonner?