Read Online Deadly Currents by Beth Groundwater - Free Book Online Page B

guided rafts down the waist-high metal rails in the center of the wide concrete steps. Everyone was in high spirits, anticipating the most popular whitewater section of the river. The water sparkled, and so did the tourists, chattering with excitement and snapping photographs.
    With all the happiness around her, Mandy’s mood brightened. She rolled her shoulders to relax them and stretched out her legs to soak up some of the sun’s warmth. In deference to the hot weather, she wore a sleeveless neoprene shortie wetsuit under her official ranger PFD with the AHRA logo.
    Steve capped his water bottle after taking a swig. “Wonder what Pike would think of the Arkansas these days.”
    “Zebulon Pike?” Mandy asked. “I didn’t know he made it out this far west.”
    “On a second expedition after he failed to reach the top of Pikes Peak, he and his crew explored the headwaters of the Arkansas. First white men to do so. He’d probably be shocked by the hustle and bustle now.”
    Mandy nodded and returned her attention to the teeming masses. She knew she and Steve were there more as a preventative measure, reminding the outfitters and private boaters to pay attention to both river-running etiquette and basic safety rules. The outfitters choreographed the timing of their launches fairly well, letting pods form up and float a ways downstream before launching the next group. And all their customers were required to wear PFDs.
    The private boaters were the ones who needed the most minding.
    She watched a father buckle his young daughter into her PFD. He hefted her into the middle of the family raft. Then he tied a Pelican bag, a large waterproof case that likely held their lunch and hopefully some emergency supplies as well, to the middle thwart.
    When he glanced in her direction, Mandy gave him a thumbs-up. This guy knew what he was doing. While he and his wife launched their raft, Mandy let her troubled mind wander back to the conversation with Cynthia. She remembered that Steve had grown up in Salida. He was a few years younger than Evie, may have even gone to school with her.
    “Steve, do you know Evie Olson?”
    “Just to say hi to. We only overlapped in high school one year when she was a senior and I was a freshman. She ran in a different crowd than I did, too.”
    “What crowd?”
    “The one that hung around the woods behind the school after the bell rang to smoke pot.”
    Mandy smiled. “And I suppose you never indulged.”
    “I’m pleading the fifth. But I can tell you, playing football and smoking weed don’t mix. And now eradicating marijuana plots on park land is part of our mission. Why are you asking about Evie Olson?”
    “Did you know she was having an affair with Tom King?”
    Steve shook his head. “Not surprised, though. She’s got a reputation for being kind of a drama queen, always on the lookout for the next prince to carry her off on his white horse—or in his luxury SUV. What’s it to you?”
    “I can’t figure out why Paula King is incensed enough over her husband’s death to sue Uncle Bill, given that she was estranged from Tom King.”
    “Must be pure greed. She’s rolling in money already, but the richer you are, the more you want, I guess,” Steve said while scanning the activity on the banks. “I know more about Tom King’s business affairs than his personal ones. I’m on the Water Issues Board with Nate Fowler, and he and King were bidding on the same land.”
    “I heard about that. Uncle Bill said that’s why Lenny Preble took them on the trip, to see if whoever winds up with the land could be convinced to donate some of its water rights for recreational use.”
    “Nate Fowler probably would. He and I have had some talks about the importance of river recreation to real estate development in the valley. He knows most people move into Chaffee County for one reason or another related to the river. And, he knows that right now, the RICD is low man on the totem