The Hunted Girls by Jenna Kernan (best book club books for discussion txt) 📕

The outfit he mentioned was inside the forest. Nadine read the reviews on Google as they pulled into the lot of Big Water Marina in Kerr City.

“Marina, kayak rentals, boat launch, eco-tours, bird-watching, fishing outings, uh-oh… bait, camping and hunting supplies.”

“You want to come along or go explore?” he asked.

“Bit of both, I think.”

They piled out and into the marina office and gift shop. The place was filled with useful items for boating, branded clothing and knickknacks. The area closest to the door seemed a camp store, with the sorts of foods you might enjoy while on a houseboat or RV.

Behind the glass counter stood a door to an inner office. Demko called a hello and a woman stepped out to greet them.

Her hair was stick straight, the color of wheat and hung beside her weathered face. Her smile deepened the lines bracketing her mouth. Nadine thought there were more than a few dark spots on her face that she might want to get looked at.

“Hey there, folks. Sorry, I didn’t hear the bell.”

“You the owner?” asked Demko.

“Me and the mister.” She blinked benignly at them. “How can I help ya?”

“I’m Detective Clint Demko.”

Her brows lifted. “Lou Anne Kilpatrick. What’s this about?”

“Murder investigation.”

Her eyes widened at that and her thin brow rose.

“We’re speaking to all the businesses in the area. Not just yours.”

Lou Anne nodded, seeming reassured by this.

“Seen in the paper about them two bodies found in the forest. Such a shame. Their poor families.”

Demko went through his battery of inquiries. Asked about men traveling alone. Asking if she’d seen anyone that made her uncomfortable.

“No. Just the normal folks. Tourists, travelers, nature lovers and fishermen.”

“One of the victims rented a kayak here the day she went missing,” said Nadine.

The owner blinked and then said, “Oh, God.”

Clearly, they’d beaten Skogen’s team here. Nadine thought that would not be well received.

Demko continued his queries as she circled the store with Molly. Nadine eyed the bag of marshmallows, recalling Rosie mentioning a firepit table on the pool deck. Then she perused the collection of hunting knives and jackknives in a glass showcase. She saw no ammunition, firearms or archery equipment, but the corner was chock full of fishing gear, nets and a bubbler tank she assumed held live bait.

From Demko’s questions she learned Lou Anne ran several types of tours per week and had three full-time employees, plus her husband and son. They were all here.

Finally he showed her the photos of Karnowski and Darnell.

Lou Anne pointed to Rita Karnowski. “She looks familiar. Might have seen her. You say she rented a kayak?”

“Tandem. Mid-March.”

“Then I got a waiver. What’s her name?”

“Karnowski. You have those waivers?” he asked.

She nodded and retrieved a stack.

“That’s March.”

He handed them to Nadine and asked for permission to speak to Lou Anne’s people. She gave the okay.

“You’ll find Simon out by the kayaks. He’s my son.”

Nadine found it curious that her smile faltered at the mention of her boy. She slipped on a pair of latex gloves and fingered through the stack of waivers.

“We have one naturalist, Lionel Decristofaro. He runs all the nature tours on the boat, the bird-watching outings and the nature walks. My husband is Roy. Anyone’s guess where he might be, store, town, on the lake. Outdoors, that’s all I ever know for sure. I’ll call him on the radio if you can’t track him down. Then there’s Kelly Dietz, who takes morning kayak and paddleboard tours. She’s part-time. Gotta be home before the kiddos, you know? And Jessie Useche who fixes anything with a motor and helps me here in the shop.”

She glanced down to Molly, now lying beside Nadine’s feet. “Uh, you want to buy that?”

Molly had somehow purloined a stuffed manatee from a lower bin without detection and now sat happily gnawing on its head.

“Oh, of course,” said Demko. His hand went to his wallet again and he drew out a fifty-dollar bill.

“Detective Demko,” said Nadine, holding up a waiver.

He met her gaze. “Karnowski?”

She nodded. Out came a large evidence bag. Nadine took custody of the evidence as Lou Anne called Jessie Useche in to take over so she could bring them around.

He was in his early thirties, with grease under his nails and on his jeans. He wore well-broken-in construction boots, a faded long-sleeved shirt and a worn cap advertising the marina.

He answered all questions but added nothing to the case. Lou Anne brought them out to see the naturalist next. Unlike Jessie, this man wore spotless tan clothing of light nylon and the sort of shirt that deflects the sun’s harmful rays. His wide-brimmed hat and glasses covered much of his face, but Nadine noted he was average height, fit and mid-thirties. Around his neck hung the largest pair of binoculars she had ever seen, secured in a harness system, much like a reverse backpack.

As Clint spoke to him, a small, disheveled man made his way up from the boat launch. This employee wore frayed jean shorts that threatened to slide off his narrow waist and flat rear end. Sweat and lake water soaked his stained T-shirt, and he wore only flip-flops on his feet.

“Simon! Where you goin’?” Lou Anne’s voice was sharp as cut glass.

Nadine gawked at the transformation between the jovial host who greeted them and this miniature tyrant now screeching at her son.

Simon skidded to a halt. “Um, break?”

His eyes held caution and his shoulders lifted toward his ears. Nadine frowned at the odd high tenor of his voice.

“You rinse all those kayaks?”

“Most of ’em.”

Lou Anne stepped away. Nadine watched her berate the man, who looked close to forty, and send him scuttling back to the launch to drag the kayaks up from the lakeshore and onto the racks. Lou Anne supervised with hands on hips as he hosed down the crafts and then ordered him to put all the flotation vests in the shed.

Simon trudged through his chores, occasionally squeaking a reply to his overbearing mother. The scene reminded her of her own mother’s outbursts