A Delicious Mistake (5 page)

He
woke each night with a start and with the urge to vomit sour in his mouth. His
stomach spasmed and his dry throat worked furiously. The bitter taste of bile
coated his tongue. Benjamin stumbled out of his cot and made his unsteady way
to the basin of water he kept nearby. He splashed lukewarm liquid on his face
and tried to get his labored breathing and galloping heart under control. 
Leaving his hut, he would stand outside his door in the Serengeti night, lost
and alone. Dressed only in his favorite
kikoi
, he let the cool air hit
his skin. For the first time in his life it did nothing to clear his mind. He
lived in a constant fog of pain and incredulity. He still could not believe
what had happened. Who, if not the poachers that had been plaguing the Game
Farm’s territories, could want Luke dead?

Benjamin
kept wondering the same thing for longer than he knew. The stars overhead
moved, but he had no idea of time. He might have stood there for minutes or
hours…not that he cared. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered but Luke and
the bone-crushing, soul-shattering pain of his absence. Eventually, Benjamin
went back inside his hut and let himself fall back onto his cot. It felt harder
than usual—but everything did these days. There was a time when he had called
this traditional mud hut his home. These days, it felt more like a foreign
country. He had thought he had known devastation before, but nothing compared
to this.

He
could only imagine what Luke’s family was going through. Had they even been
told? Of course they must have. The police had assured him so and Lindiwele,
the cook at the Game Lodge, had confirmed that they had heard the news. But why
hadn’t they come back to Tanzania yet? Almost two weeks had gone by, and there
had been no sign of any of the Huttons. Perhaps Mr. Hutton was still too sick
to travel. But what about a phone call? Perhaps they were too much in shock.
Benjamin had looked into organizing a funeral, but the police had told him that
Luke’s body could not be released. He could only hope the autopsy that must
come with a murder would reveal some clue that would help catch Luke’s killer,
some piece of evidence must exist to prove who had murdered Luke.

Unbidden,
Benjamin’s thoughts again traveled to Sarah Hutton, as they did so often these
days. The two of them, Sarah and Luke, had been very close, despite having been
born a few years apart. The anguish she was undoubtedly experiencing filled
Benjamin with even more sorrow. He imagined her in the throes of despair, but
even as he did so, he realized he was still picturing a girl’s reaction.

Sarah
had been eleven the last time Benjamin had seen her. That had been the day the
Huttons had left Africa for what he had thought would be forever. He remembered
a mass of auburn hair, perpetually in knots, wide emerald-green eyes, and a
face whose spray of freckles was almost constantly hidden by smears of mud. She
had been a wild one, full of energy and curiosity.

The
memory brought him some comfort. For the first time in days, Benjamin found
himself smiling, if weakly. He remembered the day when Luke had confided to him
that he had found Sarah’s diary—which Luke had promptly read, of course. What
they had found written in those pages had surprised them both. Sarah had
written of Benjamin—page after page of notes about him, what he had done, what
he had said. It wasn’t hard to read between the lines to see a schoolgirl’s
crush, complete with her daydreaming of him noticing her one day. Luke had
teased Benjamin mercilessly. And Benjamin had tried to join in the joke, but he
had realized with a boy’s pride that he liked having Sarah’s admiration. He had
shrugged it off as just a girl’s notion, of course. In those days, he had seen
Sarah as little more than his best friend’s kid sister, the perfect target for
their boyish pranks. When Luke had found the diary, Benjamin had been nineteen
and Luke had been seventeen, and they were both old enough to have sense enough
to leave Sarah alone after that and never mention the incident.

Over
the years, he had thought of her. He sometimes wondered whether her feelings
for him had persisted in some way. Perhaps he was her exotic fantasy. But he
had always dismissed that notion. He had only been a schoolgirl’s crush, nothing
more.

Luke
had just turned thirty, which would mean Sarah must be twenty-four, a woman
now. She would have the feelings of a woman. She would experience a woman’s
grief for her brother. Perhaps she would be strong and composed like many
English, suffering silently on the inside. Perhaps she would sob harshly into
her pillow at night. Or perhaps she would sob openly in the privacy of her
London home, comforted by her girlfriends and her family.

Benjamin
didn’t know. He didn’t know what the extent of the Huttons’ pain would be. But
he could imagine it might be what held them back from contacting anyone in
Africa.

Rage
came back in a red-hot wave he barely managed to control. He had the sudden
urge to grab his rifle, jump on a rangers’ Jeep, and drive off to find revenge
for Luke. He resisted, of course. Not only would that be foolish, but he had no
idea who to target for his vengeful purpose. Who could have done this? He was
back to that question again. Why would anyone do something so dastardly? Luke Hutton
had been the kindest man Benjamin had ever met, everyone at the Lodge said so.
Who could have wanted to see him dead? For Luke to have died in such a gruesome
manner was too horrific to even begin to fathom. And yet it had happened. It
was
real, and at the Game Lodge they would all have to deal with the loss of Luke.

The
more he thought about it, the less sense it all made. Yes, it was possible
poachers were behind Luke’s murder. But the more he thought about it the more
even that seemed farfetched. Why would they take such a risk? Why try to make
the death look an animal killing? Things had been escalating with local
wildlife rangers engaging in honest-to-god battles against poachers. That was
almost a given when it came to Africa or anywhere else where others tried to
preserve wildlife. While the number of rangers working in the parks was low
compared to the area they patrolled, they had still managed to make safety a
priority. They looked out for each other and the poachers knew that. Increased
patrols would be of more help, as would the support of the Tanzanian
government. But that help had never come.

“One
of these days, what we’re doing won’t be enough anymore,” Luke had said one
night when it had been just the two of them by a campfire in the wilderness of
the Serengeti.

That
had been the one and only time his best friend had allowed himself the luxury
of truly expressing all of his fears aloud. Benjamin had tried to be positive,
but somewhere in his heart he, too, knew the situation was grim. It had been
destined to get grimmer.

Never,
however, had he thought it could come to this. It was as if Luke’s death had
been a turning point, a slap in the face. It felt to Benjamin like the
situation in the Serengeti was rapidly, unstoppably returning to the lawless
state of his younger years. Back then, the poachers had been better armed,
better paid, and better fed than the rangers. In those days, young Benjamin had
watched the creases of worry etch themselves deeper and deeper on his father’s
handsome features. George Ndlovo was a veteran Serengeti National Park Ranger.
He had faced lead bullets too many times to count and had always managed to
escape, even if narrowly. The fact that even someone such as his fearless
father was worried over the situation had been enough to chill Benjamin to his
soul.

Still,
George Ndlovo had refused to quit his job despite the risks and his wife’s
begging for him to do so. Jobs had been virtually non-existent back then.
Unless one wanted to turn to poaching, like many other ex-rangers had, there
hadn’t been many options for a man who had a family. But George’s love for the
Serengeti and its wildlife had been too strong for him to even contemplate the
thought of turning his back on it all. He had passed that love onto Benjamin,
along with a deep moral conviction that doing the right thing mattered. That
had been a guide to Benjamin through all of his life.

Now
it urged Benjamin that he needed to do more. He had carried his father’s
lessons with him always, from his very first day as a cadet to the day he was
hired to survey the area of the Serengeti National Park that lay within the
borders of the Huttons’ Game Lodge. He would never stop carrying those lessons
with him, not until the day he died.

Laying
in the dark, he heaved a deep sigh and ran his hands over his face. His eyes
burned and fatigue stung, but sleep eluded him. He wasn’t complaining, though.
He wasn’t exactly looking forward to be reunited with his nightmares of screams
and blood.

Where
had it all gone so horribly wrong? Why did Luke have to die? That was it,
though—Luke didn’t
have
to die. It should never have happened and it
certainly shouldn’t have happened like that.

I should have been with him
,
Benjamin thought bleakly.

That
was another part of his sorrow and yet another factor that made dealing with
this tragedy so utterly impossible—the guilt.
His
guilt crushed him. He
should have been there. The police were right to point fingers at him. What had
he been thinking, letting Luke take off on his own to an area where poachers
had so recently and so boldly been? He should have postponed his search for
information in town. He should have insisted that Luke take him along. He
should have been there.

He
should have
died
with Luke, if necessary.

No
matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he fought to convince
himself his self-loathing wasn’t getting him any closer to finding out who had
done this, Benjamin couldn’t let up blaming himself for what happened. He
should have sensed it. He had that sixth sense, after all.  But where had
it been when he had needed it so desperately? He should have known danger would
be lurking. He could have found a way to stop this horrible thing from
happening.

As
frightening as the possibility of sleep was, Benjamin found himself almost
wishing he could succumb to slumber. The nightmares were just that—bad dreams
and nothing more. He wanted to be able to wake, get up, wash up, walk out of
his hut, and go to ranger headquarters to find Luke waiting for him. They would
go and get breakfast and talk about what they needed to do that day and the
area they would patrol. They would enjoy eggs, toasted bread, fresh fruit, and
coffee. They would talk about anything and everything that crossed their minds.
Together, like it had always been.

But
it was never to be that way again and Benjamin knew an even worse day waited
for him.

* * *

It
didn’t take long for Benjamin to realize trouble had just begun to bring
disruption and chaos into his life. The instant he rose from his cot the next
morning, his sixth sense kicked into motion—that same sixth sense that had
betrayed him so horribly, leaving him unsuspecting that death was about to come
and take Luke away forever. He had a very bad feeling now, and there was nothing
he could do could shake it off. Not even the shock of splashing water onto his
face as he washed up for the long day could remove the tingling that spread
over his skin.

For
the first time in almost two weeks, he decided to eat breakfast. The weird
experience of sitting at his usual seat without seeing Luke sitting across the
table from him was made even weirder by the way the other Rangers kept staring
at him. It was as if they couldn’t look away no matter how hard they tried, not
that any of them actually tried. He had a feeling there was more behind their
stares than just surprise that he had finally emerged from his self-imposed
exile.

Contrary
to what most of the rest of the Game Lodge’s staff and the town inhabitants believed,
his fellow Rangers, while perplexed by the accusations, had never truly seemed
to share the suspicion that Benjamin might be involved in Luke’s murder. Still,
Benjamin could have sworn he could read the look in their eyes now as they
stared at him—some openly, some through sideways and hidden, more subtle
glances. He saw suspicion.

He
sat down with a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs and toast and shook his head.

I am getting paranoid
,
he thought. He dragged a weary hand over his face.

Keeping
his head low over his plate, he started to eat. Halfway through his meal, he
heard the screech of the chair on the opposite side of the table being pulled
back. He looked up sharply, ready to lash out at someone for usurping Luke’s
seat. He found the very worried face of Thomas Blake staring back at him.

Benjamin
blinked in surprise. He didn’t say anything, however. He simply could not lash
out at Thomas. It would have been like opening fire on the Red Cross. The kid
still had an air of innocence about him that was at odds with this harsh, tough
land.

The
kid greeted him with a tremulous smile. “Good morning.”

Benjamin
nodded. “’Morning.” He would not lash out, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood
for chit chat, either.

“It’s
good to have you back with us.” Thomas waved at Benjamin’s plate. “I’m pretty
sure that’s the first real meal you’ve eaten in days, too. Isn’t it?”