Down River

  But not, Mitch thought, so disoriented that she had shared with this doctor that someone had shut her in and tampered with the door. She was still thinking that they had better not spook whoever was behind this--and maybe behind Ginger's death--until they could flush the killer out. Lisa might have cheated a second murder attempt. She was still one sharp lawyer.

  Although Christine had been tempted to disobey Mitch's order and just check the sauna door on her own, it did give her an excuse to phone Spike and see him again. As they played the flashlight beam over the faint scratch marks at the bottom of the sauna door, she said, "I should tell Mitch to look under her fingernails for splinters. She was desperate, all right, and that had to mean the door wouldn't open--at least for a while."

  "And it means much more," Spike said as he examined the wooden door handle. "If someone tried to kill Lisa--twice--it means that same person killed Ginger."

  "Spike, that's a pretty big leap."

  "I don't care what you or anyone says. I know it! She must have struggled, too. Remember how the coroner's report said she had lake mud and stuff under her nails from fighting to get free? Ginger might have died because she knew too much about what happened to Lisa. If it wasn't for Lisa, Ginger might still be alive."

  Christine faced him squarely in the sauna. Unfortunately, they'd found no evidence to show something had been jammed through the handle or in the door. "You sound like you're blaming Lisa when she's a victim. Next, you'll be blaming Mitch or me."

  "You're siding with Mitch. No, I'm not blaming him. He's been great. If the Bonners wouldn't have helped me out with the funeral costs, he wanted to, but just don't jump on me for bringing this back to Ginger. And Lisa is to blame in a way, breaking her engagement to Mitch in the first place, not wanting to set foot here. Then here she comes to screw up his mind again. He wants her here, but I'll bet she wants him there--Florida. She's been nothing but trouble, and she's pulled Ginger and all of us in."

  "I know you're upset and have every right to be but--"

  "Hey," a woman's voice said from outside. "What's going on out here?"

  Vanessa peered at them through the door of the sauna. Something really stunk about Vanessa, Christine thought, and it wasn't the pricey perfume she always wore.

  "I was just taking a little walk on the patio and heard your voices," Vanessa said. "So, have you heard how Lisa's doing?"

  "They're running tests. Not sure yet," Christine told her.

  "Are you going to close the sauna until it gets fixed?" Vanessa asked. "Wow, how did that handle get broken?"

  "It's been loose for a long time," Spike lied before Christine could think what to say next. "When Mitch shoved the door aside to rescue Lisa, he probably knocked it off."

  "Well, let me know if you hear anything about her. All of us are starting to think this place is cursed--you know what I mean. Besides, all of us, Lisa included, have clients scheduled and have to get back to reality--our reality--on the other side of the country. And with this new accident, I'll bet Graham postpones naming the new senior partner again. At least, with all Lisa's been through and her sad past, I think we're down to two candidates, but Graham Bonner has always been full of surprises. See you in the morning, but let me know if there's any news before."

  Spike and Christine stood silently as Vanessa's footsteps faded, then the patio door opened and closed. Finally, Spike said, "She didn't believe me about how the handle broke. But was that because I'm a bad liar when I'm so upset, or because she knew damn well Lisa was trapped in here? And she was the last one we are sure saw Ginger alive."

  It had been one hell of a long night. Not only was Mitch mourning all that had gone wrong this past week, but he was afraid Graham had betrayed him. Again, over breakfast in the hospital cafeteria, he didn't respond to Mitch's probing of whether anything else had come of the casino case. As a matter of fact, he changed the subject, except to reveal something pretty interesting about Vanessa.

  "After I pulled you and Lisa off the case to be certain you weren't endangered, Vanessa insisted I let her get in on it," he finally admitted. "I knew she wanted the publicity if it started to hit the papers, but I told her the managing partner controls assignments, and I didn't want any of my lawyers to be harassed or hurt--still don't."

  "You've always been protective of your attorneys, as if we were family."

  "But you were always special, and I--we--hated to lose you. Of course, that's why I'm so distraught about Lisa, as we've brought her along, too. I need to get her back in her own environment, where horrible things won't happen to her--no offense, Mitch."

  "None taken. It's been a crazy week. I know you all have key clients scheduled, and it was tough to block out this much time."

  "As a matter of fact, I want to fly Lisa home and get her some psychiatric counseling. I know she saw a psychiatrist years ago, but she may need help now."

  That was exactly what Mitch had thought at first, but not now. Someone was definitely out to eliminate Lisa from more than the senior partnership, and he might be chatting with that very bastard over pancakes and sausage right now.

  "So," Mitch said, trying to keep his voice in check, "I'm assuming Lisa's out of the competition for senior partner."

  "Remains to be seen." Graham leaned closer across their small Formica table as if someone could overhear. "I had planned to name her to the position this morning, before all this happened. The adversity she's been through past and present have made her stronger, more empathetic, maybe even more driven, all qualities that would help her in the position. There are drawbacks with all three candidates, ones you could no doubt list for me. So, the truth is, I'm still considering Lisa."

  Mitch was speechless. If Lisa accepted such an offer, that would keep her away from him. She had wanted that position, argued with him about it, but how did she feel now, after all she'd been through? Or, if Graham was hiding something--namely, that he himself might be the spider behind all the money machinations in the casino case--was this a way to buy Lisa off, to assure her silence when destructive tactics hadn't panned out? Or would the fact that, as senior partner, she would have insider information and access to more people and past records endanger her even more, an entire continent away from where he could help to protect her?

  "Nothing to say?" Graham asked as they got up from the table to go check in with the nurses' desk on Lisa's floor again. "You thought I'd take Jonas? Ellie and I both admire Lisa, you know that."

  Mitch nodded, trying to process everything, including Lisa's insisting that Graham "doth protest too much" about the casino case. Now, it seemed he was doing the same thing about how much Lisa meant to him.

  "Listen," Graham said, "I know it was hard for you to give up what you left in Lauderdale. Ever think of coming back to the firm and using the lodge for an investment you can visit? The best of both worlds? Spike and Christine could run it for you, you could work part-time for us, mostly consulting, which would give you time to visit Alaska often."

  Mitch had no trouble looking surprised. He had not and would not consider such an offer, but he didn't say so now. He was being played here, gamed by a master. And maybe so was Lisa. He had to find a way to keep Graham away from her for a while so he could talk to her privately. Would she be doped up or asleep now so that would be useless?

  The familiar nurse at the reception desk on Lisa's floor saw them coming. "This time," she told them before they could ask, "one of you can see her. The doctor said one at a time--no excitement."

  Mitch almost laughed out loud. No excitement? Lisa's life--his, too--had been nothing but that since she'd set foot in Alaska. But he could have kissed the doctor, because now he had an excuse to see her alone before Graham tried to control everything and everyone again.

  "I should see her first," Graham told him, "assure her we're not heading home without her, tell her she's still in the running and try to convince her she needs some counseling."

  "This is my bailiwick, so I'm going to pull rank o
n you," Mitch told him. "I'm the one responsible for her well-being here, maybe her problem in the sauna if the controls were defective. Didn't you ever hear the Chinese belief that, once you save a person's life, you're responsible for them?"

  "Mitch, I just--"

  "I might have saved her life twice," he interrupted. "After I see her, I'll let you know if she's strong enough for a visit from you, too." Before Graham could say another word, he turned away and strode down the hall.

  Lisa felt really strange, in a different way from when she'd survived the river. She was still floaty, though they had her practically anchored to the hospital bed with wires to monitors, IV tubes and a cooling blanket tucked in over her to lower her core body temperature. She was on a blood thinner. She'd had tests for blood count, electrolytes, liver and kidney function and a urinalysis and was awaiting those lab results. A catheter had been inserted to be sure she kept in more liquid than she lost, but the only true violation she felt was from someone she knew and trusted trying to kill her again.

  Despite all the poking and prodding, she liked Dr. Kurtz and her nurses very much, because they explained each step they were taking and why--unless all that was just to make her stay awake and occasionally respond to them. Everyone here had been kind and helpful. She felt protected, sheltered. And they had said that she could have a visitor before she would be allowed to finally sleep.

  Thank God, it was Mitch and not Graham. Before she saw him, she heard his distinctive step. Despite the fact he looked like hell with dark circles under his eyes and beard stubble and wore wrinkled hospital scrubs, he'd never looked better to her.

  "Hey, sweetheart," he said, looking immensely relieved.

  "On the staff here now?"

  "Feels like I've been here long enough to qualify," he said with a tight smile, though his eyes were luminous with unshed tears. "They said I get some scrubs for bringing in Wonder Woman."

  With a glance at the monitors behind her, he pulled up a chair and leaned closer, grasping her shoulder because her hand on his side had needles for the IV tubes. "When this is all over," he whispered, "you and I are going to fall into the same bed and sleep forever."

  "Just sleep? Mitch," she whispered, lowering her voice even more, "it was another murder attempt, I swear it. Here I was expecting someone to make a move during ziplining or river rafting, but he or she is a murderer of opportunity. The sauna door might not have been locked, but it was held shut somehow. And to think, if Christine hadn't encouraged me to use it, this never would have happened."

  "I know. She told me on the phone you broke the inside handle and left fingernail marks trying to get out."

  "I've got broken fingernails to prove it, but not a broken spirit! Mitch, you saved my life again."

  "Grateful gestures will be readily accepted later. The thing is, when I found you, the sauna temperature was in a reasonable range, there were five minutes left, and the door was unobstructed. But you did slip and hit your head? Did someone hit you?"

  "No. I fell asleep for a moment and woke up really confused before I fell. But I'm still betting someone hit Ginger before dumping her in the lake. Mitch, even if we get the sheriff in on this now, it could still be construed that it was all my fault, just like with the river, that I was at best an unreliable witness, at worst a hysterical, traumatized woman."

  He glanced at the door to the hall and went over to peek out in both directions, then partially closed it, leaving it barely ajar. "I suppose you don't like closed doors right now, but you've almost convinced me Graham could be our traitor. You do recall he's here with me?" he asked, returning to her bedside.

  "Yes, so was that just nice of him, or is he making sure he gets another crack at me somehow?"

  "Hardly here. Never again!" He frowned and sat down, leaning close, caressing her cheek with the backs of his curled fingers.

  "Christine says the evil raven is not only crooked but wise," she protested.

  "I've been trying to rank our suspects and still think Vanessa's mug should be on our 'Most Wanted' poster. Jonas needs the money and wants the prestige, but she's hell-bent on the promotion...."

  "I know you can't bear to think it's Graham," she said when his voice trailed off, which reminded her that her throat was still dry. He helped her take a drink of water from her bedside tray. "But," she went on, "what if the firm was hired for the casino case because Graham himself was involved in the money laundering? Whoever hired him might have figured he could keep certain names out of it or manipulate things in their favor or else he'd go down with them. Pressure was obviously put on the newspaper reporter who went to jail rather than talk, but could pressure have been put on Graham--or maybe Graham is the spider?"

  "I don't know, but I'm going to tell him you're too exhausted to see him until you've slept. Then I'm going to call Christine to drive in here and stay with you while I take Graham back to the lodge and maybe consult with the sheriff about this."

  "Not yet!" she insisted. "Once we get Sheriff Moran involved, there's no going back. Everyone will be questioned, maybe accused, and just lie or clam up and we can't prove anything yet. You saw how Gus reacted to the sheriff's interrogation."

  "Yeah, up close and personal. I had to go into Bear Bones last night before he broke up a bar. So, can you sleep? I'm going to call Christine from your room phone, then sit right here until she arrives. When I can get you out of here, Spike, Christine or I will be with you 24/7 until we get to the bottom of this. And I'll hold off on the sheriff--for a little while longer."

  "Mitch, thank you. As awful as some of this has been, at least we patched up our past differences a bit."

  "Enough to manage the present, but what about a future?" Again, he lifted his hand from her shoulder to stroke her face with the backs of his fingers. "Sweetheart, Graham says you're still in the running for senior partner, and he wants to fly you back to Lauderdale so he can really take care of you."

  "Past time for Lisa to get some sleep now," a nurse said as she bustled into the room. "I told your friend out in the hall one visitor was enough right now."

  "Out in the hall, maybe trying to listen?" Lisa whispered. "Mitch, I--"

  He put two fingers over her lips. "Thanks for coming back into my life, to remind me what I've missed, what I've screwed up. Despite how I handled things last year, I still love you, Lisa," he whispered.

  She sucked in a breath. Her sight blurred with tears, making two Mitches bending closer, two nurses hovering. It was the first time in days--years--that, looking through any sort of wavering water, she had been blessed and not cursed.

  He kissed her cheek, then her lips, and stood. "Her skin feels almost normal again," he told the nurse, who was pretending not to look.

  "Then," she said with a little smile, "that's a better test she'll be fine than all the other ones we've run. If her heartbeat's a bit erratic, I'll tell the doctor I know why."

  Lisa swam up, up from heavy sleep. Before she even opened her eyes, she remembered where she was. Really remembered, without slipping back into the nightmares of fighting the rushing current, of drowning...or of losing her mother and sister...of losing Mitch. Above her head she saw not roiling white water, but a calm white ceiling with pock-marked patterns in it. Yes, she knew where she was and what she had to do. Get better. Return to the lodge. And drag some monster she once thought she could trust out of his or her hiding place into the light.

  She started when Christine's face popped up over her.

  "Good, you are awake," she said and patted her arm. "Mitch will be back soon and tomorrow, they say, maybe you can go home from the hospital. But where is home now, right?"

  "Thanks for staying with me. How's Spike?"

  "More than ever convinced that someone meant to hurt Ginger."

  "I'm just hoping she wasn't murdered because of what she saw the day I was pushed in the river."

  "If she saw something that evil and didn't come forward with it right away, then she had her own reasons, her own part
in what happened to her. Lisa," Christine said, sitting in a chair where she must have been waiting at her bedside, "I have something for you. It is something more than belief you did not harm yourself, something more than good wishes for you and Mitch, because I see how much he needs you--like I know now I need Spike."

  Lisa nodded. She had come to admire this strong woman she had at first mistrusted. It was just the opposite of how she'd shifted her feelings toward her law firm colleagues.

  Christine reached for something on the floor. Paper rustled, then she held up one of the Yup'ik dolls from the shelf in the lodge library. It was the worn one, the young girl with a half-woven basket in her hand, the one Christine had confided had been given to her mother to replace a lost sister.

  "For you," Christine said, putting the doll with its fur parka and carved wooden face into her hand on the bed. "To help you have only good memories of those you lost, not nightmares."

  "I will treasure it forever," Lisa choked out, lifting her hand to see the doll better and finding she was no longer tied to IVs. Her first impulse had been to say she could never accept such a precious, personal heirloom, but she sensed that would have saddened, maybe even insulted Christine. "I see her basket is only half-done, which means a lot to me, too, that I have much life to live, to weave together strands to see how it comes out."

  "Iah, for sure, putting pieces together to find out who hurt you and Ginger. And then the other things like where is home and who to share it with."

  Christine stood and bent over to press her cheek to Lisa's before straightening. "But, I got to tell you," Christine added with a taut smile, "that doll's happiest if her owner lives in Alaska."

  23

  L

  isa was especially grateful to be alive the day they buried Ginger in the Homesteaders Cemetery in Bear Bones. It was late morning of the day after she'd been released from the hospital. The beautiful day had blue skies and soft winds. It was also the day after they should have been back to work at Carlisle, Bonner & Associates in Florida. But here they all stood, surrounded by the townspeople, circling the open grave of a woman whose life had been cut far too short--and because of Lisa? The polished oak coffin Spike had selected for his sister, paid for by Bonner bounty, gleamed in the sun as it rested on its cradle, waiting to be lowered later. Several sprays of confetti-colored wildflowers lay atop its sleek veneer as the Methodist minister finished his final prayer and led everyone in the familiar hymn, Amazing Grace.