Page 14 of Shadow of Hope
She nodded. “It’s the largest of the two—four and a half feet long—and plays really low, kind of haunting sounds.”
“Low and haunting is right up my alley.” Jamal smiled for the first time she’d seen. “I was a drummer in high school and know all about bassoons and bassoonists.”
Hmm. Interesting comment. “Bassoonists?”
“Oh, come on.” Jamal cocked his head. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about how musician’s personalities fit the instrument they play.”
“Well yeah, but?—”
“But bassoonists are usually real killjoys.” He smirked at her.
“Not all bassoonists.” Why she felt a need to defend herself and her fellow bassoonists, she didn’t know.
He flashed a cold smile. “You could be right, but I never met one yet who didn’t bring the party down.”
She should let it go, but she couldn’t. “Is that what you think I’m doing now?”
“Well, itisboring. And who cares if you play your stupid bassoon as long as you know how to play it, and we don’t suffer through the learning curve.”
“I am pretty good, if I say so myself.” She didn’t brag on herself often, but she did excel in playing the bassoon. An odd skill, but one she was proud of, and she felt an irrational need for him to know that. Maybe from years of teasing about not having enough money to buy her own instrument and needing to use one belonging to the school.
“I’m not much of a music buff,” Ernie said. “Don’t know what a bassoon even is, but I go to bed early, so as long as you don’t play after nine, I’m okay with it.”
“I don’t care either,” Buck said. “At least I don’t think I do. I like music just fine. Country’s my thing, though. You can be sure once I hear the thing played, if it’s gross, I’ll let you know.”
Ernie glanced at his watch. “Speaking of bedtime, it’s about that time now. I’ll say goodnight.”
He got up, holding his back as he moved. This training was hard on everyone’s body for sure.
“’Night, Ernie.” She flashed him a smile as she’d come to like the older guy. Which meant he was probably the guilty party, as that was the way things went in life. But then, he said he didn’t know much about music, and that would not put him at the top of her list.
Jamal still claimed that place due to his caustic attitude and knowledge of music. Garrett seemed in the dark on music, but Buck didn’t make his skills clear, and she couldn’t rule him out. Still, she’d made progress.
Question was, what did she do next?
She had to figure out if any of the men had a connection to Holly Boyle. She would have to handle that far more delicately. Something she would ponder once she was zipped into her tent alone. Then in the morning she would start questioning the men again.
She glanced around the firepit at them. Which one of them had left the song? She hadn’t seen any of them near her backpack. Of course not. That would be too easy. Before they departed for the trip, she’d left the pack on the back of the utility vehicle for about five minutes while she’d taken a final bathroom break and then one time at the campsite to go to the latrine. Plenty of time to slip a note into the pocket.
She studied each face. She knew nothing about any of these men. Including Micha. Forget about someone hunting her for a moment, was she even safe in this situation? The only woman out in the wilderness with six men she didn’t know. She should probably have considered that.
The company had a solid performance rating, and the staff underwent criminal background checks, including fingerprinting. Or at least that’s what the website said. She had to trust that Micha was safe.
Still, she had to believe whichever of these men left the note could also do her harm, and she would have to protect herself tonight. Her knife was in her pack in the tent, and she needed to start carrying it at all times. She had no qualms about using it if it meant saving her life. None at all.
“I’m turning in early like Ernie.” She got up and stretched.
Purposefully not making eye contact with Micha, she nodded and headed for the tent. She had the zipper half open when footfalls sounded from behind. Without looking, she knew it was Micha. They’d been interrupted after she found the note, and he’d wanted to talk about it then. He came across as a tenacious guy, and she doubted he’d dropped his desire to discuss it.
“Before you go to sleep,” he said, “I’d like to talk about the message you got.”
Just as she’d thought. She pivoted. “It really has been a long day, and I need my sleep. Can’t it wait until morning?”
Which she would put off then, too, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You could be in danger, and I won’t sleep until I know you’re taking it seriously.”
“You don’t know that.”
