Read Online Black Tide Rising by R.J. McMillen - Free Book Online

went forward and switched on the computer. It came to life, the screen casting a pale glow over the wheelhouse as Dan ran a search for trails on Nootka Island. Within seconds, line after line of entries appeared. Dan picked the first one that looked promising. It called the trail “rugged,” said it stretched for twenty-two miles between some place called Louie Lagoon and Friendly Cove, and suggested it would take a minimum of five days to hike it from end to end. The next one said much the same but called for six days. It also said hikers would have to scale cliffs and would be miserably exposed, with rain and wind the norm and hypothermia a threat. A third entry said there were waterfalls and fast-running rivers to be waded, and warned that rogue waves and tides posed the greatest hazard. Not a place Margrethe would go by choice. Not a place he would go by choice either, thought Dan, although he had a sneaking suspicion that Walker might have a different view.
    He switched the computer off and headed back to the salon. Walker was still sprawled on the settee, gazing out the window.
    â€œYou find anything?”
    â€œYep,” Dan answered. “There’s a twenty-two-mile trail runs up the coast from here to some place called Louie Lagoon. It’s wild, rough, and dangerous. Takes five or six days to hike it and you gotta climb cliffs, cross rivers, and dodge tides.”
    â€œYou get all that from a book or chart or something?” Walker asked.
    â€œNope. The computer.”
    Walker looked at him for long moment.
    â€œYou got a computer out here in the middle of nowhere? Now how the hell does that work?”
    Dan smiled. “The miracle of modern technology, my traditional friend. Got a satellite dish up on the mast.”
    â€”
    The two men sat quietly, each wrapped in his own thoughts, as the day swelled to life and lit the cabin with a soft golden light. Outside, a gull shrieked. Then another. There was the occasional slap of a fish jumping. The lazy drone of a bumblebee. The constant lapping of water against the hull.
    â€œYou figure Margrethe’s still alive?” Dan’s question broke their silence.
    â€œYeah. Yesterday anyway.”
    â€œJesus! You know those footprints could’ve been two guys.”
    â€œMaybe. But the second set was real small,” Walker said. “And light. Didn’t leave much of an imprint.”
    â€œShit. If you’re right …”
    â€œYeah.”
    The silence fell again. This time it was Walker who spoke first.
    â€œCan you get the cops back?”
    â€œDon’t need to—and I couldn’t anyway. They’ll send more guys in. Probably a dog team. Maybe ask the coast guard if they can send out a boat to search the shoreline. Might even send out a helicopter. No way they’ll listen to me. They don’t take direction from the public, and they think I’m crazy anyway after I told them about the disappearing footprints. If I called them up and said I thought Margrethe had been dragged out on the trail by some guy, they’d think I’d really lost it. That’s the kind of thing they have to figure out for themselves.”
    â€œYeah. So how about that guy you called last year?”
    â€œMike?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œMike can’t help with this. He’s got some pull with the Marine Division, but this isn’t something they’d normally respond to—and we have nothing to give them. We don’t even know for sure she’s out there.”
    â€œGonna feel like shit if she is and she don’t make it.”
    â€œI feel like shit already, Walker. Her husband’s up there at the lighthouse, going through the worst time of his life, and there’s nothing I can do to help. Can’t even ask him what she looks like because then he’d want to know why. Think we’d found her body or something.”
    â€œYeah,” said Walker as he turned to