Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Dana Mentink (good fiction books to read .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Dana Mentink
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She grabbed the two-seater kayak. This way, she wouldn’t need to look into his face the entire time. She gestured for him to grab his own oar. Within ten minutes, they hit the water at a fast clip.
“You’re not still planning on Sandy Cape for a stopping point, are you?” Henry asked. “Until it’s officially not a crime scene—”
“No. I’ll have to see if we can ride the currents fast enough to choose a different lunching spot for our guests. If we skip all the leisurely floats and games until after lunch, I think we might be able to make it work.”
“That’s a lot of whitewater before lunch.”
She might’ve imagined it, but he sounded slightly concerned. “It’ll also mean extra training for my guides this weekend. I think I can manage most of the rapids without your help in the kayak.”
“I remember enough. I’ll be fine, Nora.”
The defensiveness in his voice triggered memories of too many arguments. For some reason Henry always assumed she was trying to control or critique him even if she was trying to be thoughtful. It was just enough to steel her resolve. No more lingering thoughts on his great hugs. Or his kisses. She’d never been so grateful to see the upcoming rapids so her rebellious mind would quiet down. “Right oar. Hard.”
The water kicked up and they tipped precariously but didn’t flip as she deftly kept them from hitting the swirling hydraulic. Her honed instinct found the fastest routes and they made record time, past Sandy Cape, past the emergency take-out. They coasted as they entered the deep canyon. The high rock walls provided a peaceful tunnel of silence, with only the occasional slap of an oar against the water. An eagle soared above their heads.
“You’re still excellent at this,” Henry said softly.
She ignored the sudden warmth in her cheeks. “Is it easier to be in the water now?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. My leg has made some phantom pain complaints, but I’m doing all right. Don’t worry about me.”
He might as well have told her not to go getting attached to him. “I wasn’t worried,” she said. “Just curious.” The wall to the left made a jagged stairlike descent into a hilly wooded area that used to be a stopping point.
“Wow,” Henry said, blowing out a breath.
A mudslide had brought down several boulders about nine years ago. The massive rocks had made the area closest to land a treacherous, swirling set of new rapids. Maybe mercifully, so the locals didn’t need to be reminded of tragedy. Because that spot had been where their mutual friend, Tommy Sorenson, had been murdered.
“Left. Quick strokes,” she said. Like a roller coaster, they rose and fell with each wave, staying as far away from that portion of land as possible. And as fast as it began, the waters smoothed once more.
“Do you…do you think there were any similarities between Tommy and Dexter?” Henry asked. “Did Dexter seem nervous the couple of days before?”
“Besides them both being rafting guides? I don’t know. I haven’t wanted to give it much thought, if I’m being honest.” She knew Tommy had confided in Henry a few days before his death that he’d felt like he was being watched and asked Henry to have his back. Henry had thought he was being melodramatic but had agreed. And yet, somehow Tommy had ended up on the river alone and murdered. She knew the guilt Henry carried.
“I don’t think anyone could’ve predicted this,” she said slowly, hoping he understood she meant both Dexter’s and Tommy’s murders. “Do you think we’re dealing with the same killer?”
“Tommy’s was never staged as a suicide, so I don’t think so. We can’t dismiss the possibility, though. Would you mind if I interview your staff on an unofficial basis?”
“If they agree, sure. Just please don’t give them any more reason to abandon ship and work for my uncle.”
“Frank is trying to poach your guides?” The outrage in his voice was evident. “Totally unethical. Do you want me to talk—?”
“No.” She cringed at her careless slip. When they started conversing without the same patterns of old fights, she opened up way too easily around him. They rowed in silence for a couple minutes.
“You might’ve noticed it is driving me a bit nuts not to be lead on this case.”
His vulnerability took her off guard. “I’m sure it’s hard.” She exhaled as the river entered a curving portion resembling snake wiggles. “Look. We’ve made great time. We can stop for lunch.”
“Oh. I didn’t bring…”
“Don’t worry. I have enough.” She glanced at the bag of supplies she’d stored securely in the spot near her feet. She always brought more than enough in early spring, as she never knew when the weather might turn and delay her return.
They slid up onto the bank. The same slight erosion from the snowmelt had occurred here, but at first glance, it didn’t appear she’d have much work to do to make the site ready for visitors.
Henry stepped out of the kayak and stretched. “I think I can help you tidy this place up in record time.” His eyes drifted to the bag she hiked up on her shoulder. “Need to earn my keep. What’s for lunch?”
She heard the eagerness in his voice. He probably hadn’t so much as had breakfast. “Sandwiches. I’ll get the hand-washing station set up, then you can help me move the picnic benches back before we eat.” On the last river run of the season, they’d moved the tables onto higher ground before winter, partly because of erosion.
Nora disappeared between two
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