Rock Harbor Search and Rescue (23 page)

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Authors: Colleen Coble,Robin Caroll

BOOK: Rock Harbor Search and Rescue
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“Emily, what’s wrong?” Naomi stood behind the couch. “Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”

She shuddered and forced the memory away. She stood slowly, her legs still weak under her weight. “A surfer wiped out and is in the hospital.”

“Oh, mercy. I know how the water scares you.” Naomi came and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

Emily let Naomi’s loving touch give her strength. She’d never told Dad the secret. Just kept it inside until it no longer mattered. But it did. She’d kept an important secret from Dad, all because her mother had manipulated her, just like she always did.

No matter if her mother made parole or whatever, Emily would never speak to her.

SEVENTEEN

“I can’t believe Mrs. Dancer called the paper and asked for a follow-up interview.” Emily stomped down the street with Olivia. Thank goodness her shoulder was a little better today, because every time she’d rolled over on it last night, it had woken her up with pain. “It’s like she wants the sheriff to arrest me or something.”

Olivia chuckled. “I bet the sheriff would like this to be solved, Em. It’s an election year. Mayor Kaleva has already started with her campaign calls and flyers. The sheriff is her husband, and if he can’t get a big case like this solved, it might make her look bad.” She gestured to the papers on the street post at the intersection of Jack Pine and Houghton. “Bet she’ll use the surfing championship this weekend to campaign big-time.”

Was the surfing championship really this weekend? Emily felt horrible for having to resign from the team with the championship so close. She could only pray someone else would step up and volunteer to help them.

“Maybe so, but I hope he isn’t so pressured to solve the case that he just blames me based on what we know right now.”

“I don’t think Sheriff Kaleva would do that. He’s got a pretty good reputation in town. I don’t think he would judge so quickly.”

Guilt formed a lump in Emily’s throat. She’d been as judgmental as everyone else—immediately suspecting Mrs. Cooper just because the lady needed money to support her family. They were all wrong to jump to conclusions. Had she learned nothing in all the Bible studies she’d participated in over the years? She licked her lips.

“Hey, look.” Emily grabbed Olivia’s arm.

“What?”

“Is that Mr. Lancaster coming out of the inn?”

The small neon sign over the building across the street from the Suomi Café read
ROCK HARBOR INN
. Emily remembered learning about Rock Harbor’s history in school. The building that was now the inn had been a French trading post in the town’s glory days in the 1800s. A man who looked an awful lot like Mr. Lancaster stood just outside the inn’s front door, looking up and down Houghton Street as if he were lost.

“That’s him.” Olivia gasped. “What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. Looks like he’s waiting on something.”

“Should we follow him?” This could be a real lead, and she sure needed one with how fast she seemed to be scratching names off her list.

“Are you crazy?”

Before Emily could answer that, a dark car pulled up to the curb. Mr. Lancaster glanced around, then ducked into the backseat. The car roared off. “Guess we won’t be following him anywhere. Did you recognize the car?”

Olivia ignored her, dropping her backpack to the ground and digging around inside.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh.” She opened a notebook and jotted. Then she stood and smiled as she put everything into her pack and hoisted it over her shoulder. “I got the license plate number.”

Impressive. “That’s awesome, Liv, but, uh, what are you going to do with it?”

Excitement slid right off Olivia’s face. “I don’t know. People always get the license plate number in the movies and cop shows.”

“Hey, it might come in handy. If he goes missing, you’ll have something to give to the sheriff. Maybe that would help him solve the case.”

They turned onto Pepin Street and entered the newspaper office within minutes. Inetta waited in the front for them. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten me.”

“Of course not!” Emily said with a smile. Then she dumped her backpack on the floor and winced as it slid from her shoulder.

“What happened to you?”

Emily told Inetta the story.

“I’m glad you’re okay! I really should interview you and your stepmom about that SAR. It’d give you some great public opinion.”

Emily nodded. She probably needed it. “What did Mrs. Dancer say about me this time?”

“She didn’t point the finger at you, at least not by name. She’s offering a reward for the return of the missing necklace.”

“Really?” Dad had made it sound like Mrs. Dancer needed the money from the sale of the necklace. If that were the case, she wouldn’t have funds for any reward. “How much of a reward?”

“Five hundred.”

That was a lot of money! “Wow.”

“Yeah. Mary states, and I quote . . .” Inetta grabbed her
laptop and set it on the counter. She used the laptop’s keypad and scrolled. “’My Sapphire Beauty is a one-of-a-kind necklace, with the special enchantment to keep the wearer safe from the clutches of the Windigo. The value, and the enchantment, are diminished if worn by someone who stole the necklace.’ End quote.”

“Do the Ojibwa really believe in the Windigo and charms of protection from it? It all seems so silly.”

Inetta shrugged. “I don’t know. She acted that way. Several of her family members were around during the interview, and they seemed serious enough about it.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m serious about that interview with you and Naomi. How about I come by and talk with you both the day after tomorrow? After school? I’ll bring a photographer. I’ll call your dad and get permission.”

“Sure. I guess if Dad says it’s okay.” A feature might also provide some free publicity for the SAR training center. That might help her get her puppy even though she didn’t have enough money yet.

“Great. As you know, pictures make all the difference. I heard someone say that Mary’s jewelry sold more after we ran our feature article on the festival that highlighted her.”

Maybe that was how she could afford the reward money.

“We took more pictures of her and her jewelry today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Look.” Inetta turned her laptop toward Emily. “Just click the arrow at the top right of the screen to scroll through these pictures. Mr. Farmer hasn’t decided which ones he’ll use with the article.” She pulled her iPhone from her pocket. “I’m going to call your dad, then set our interview in my calendar so I don’t forget.”

Emily stared at the first shot—Mrs. Dancer sitting behind a worktable, her beads and glass spread out. Another picture of Mrs. Dancer in front of a display. Probably wouldn’t use that one as two little kids were in the shot, too much to be cropped out. They must’ve run through just as the photo was taken. They reminded Emily of Timmy and Dave.

She smiled and scrolled to the next photo. Another picture of Mrs. Dancer, this time beside a display of her Ojibwa-centered items. They truly were some of her most beautiful work. One day Emily hoped to be that good.

“There. I have the interview with you and Naomi set for Thursday around three forty-five. I told your dad I wanted to prove your innocence.”

Emily nodded and started to scroll to the next picture, but stopped when she realized a person had been caught in this shot too. They could probably crop him out, though, as he was more in the background. Emily leaned closer to the laptop screen . . . There was something so familiar—

She sucked in air as she recognized the guy in the corner of the picture.

Brandon Genrich.

“What a crummy week.” Emily flopped on the sofa beside Olivia and reached for her history flash cards. If only her stitches would heal as quickly as her shoulder had. “I’m tired of my arm hurting. And I
especially
wish I’d never asked my parents what was wrong. Now every time the phone rings, I think it’s going to be my mother calling to say she’s out of prison.”

Naomi had fixed the girls a snack of cheese sticks and a
vegetable tray before taking Timmy and Matthew outside to play. She’d seemed excited about the highlighting of the Kitchigami Search-and-Rescue Training Center.

Emily fanned out her history cards, then reached for a cheese stick.

“Don’t worry about your mom’s parole,” Olivia said. “You know your dad won’t let her near you.”

“I wish I could be certain.”

“Did you tell Timmy?”

Emily nodded. “He was pretty upset, and I don’t blame him. He has nightmares about her. Poor kid.” Best not to say anything about
her
nightmares. “And we still aren’t any closer to figuring out who took Mrs. Dancer’s necklace. All we’ve managed to do is eliminate suspects.”

A car door slammed outside.

“Dad must be home a little early.”

Timmy shouted, and Matthew yelled for their dad. It was always chaos when their dad got home.

Emily shuddered. “Maybe we’d better go to my room.”

She shut her book, and Olivia grabbed the tray of snacks. Emily hopped up as she heard the sound of the front door opening.

“Em?” her dad called from the entry.

“I’m in the living room,” she hollered back.

“Come outside a minute. I have something to show you.” He sounded excited.

Emily shrugged and put her book back on the coffee table. “I wonder what’s going on?” She and Olivia went to join her dad on the porch. It wasn’t often she heard that note in her father’s voice. He was usually laid-back.

No one was on the porch when they stepped outside in the
crisp fall air. The scent of turning leaves hung in the air. “What’s up, Dad?”

Her dad was by the porch with the rest of the family. Bree and Samson were there as well. Naomi stood with her back to the door and both of Emily’s brothers were in front of her. They seemed to be looking at something she was holding. Samson had his front paws on Naomi’s leg.

“What’s going on, Dad?” Emily couldn’t see what Naomi had in her arms.

His smile grew bigger. “Naomi and I have something for you. You’ve had a rough few weeks, and we wanted to do something to cheer you up.”

Her heart thumped. A present for her? What could it be? A new iPod? Or maybe even a laptop? She dismissed that idea. Her dad didn’t have the money to buy an expensive laptop.

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