Part 6 (1/2)
Summer glanced at a clock mounted beneath a sneering mountain lion. ”We don't have to meet with the police inspector until three o'clock,” she said to her brother. ”We might be able to make a quick run out and back.”
”I need to check out the ROV and see if we get anything back from the Seattle lab,” Dirk replied. ”How about you go with Mr. Miller, and I'll handle the inspector in case you're late getting back.”
”Call me Trevor. And I'll have her back on time,” Trevor said, smiling at Summer as if he were asking her father's permission to take her out. She was surprised to feel a slight blush cross her cheeks.
”Save me a seat under the hot interrogation light,” she said to Dirk, rising from her chair. ”I'll see you at three.”
7
TREVOR HELPED SUMMER ABOARD HIS BOAT, THEN quickly cast off the lines. As the workboat edged away from the dock, she leaned over the side and noted a NATURAL RESOURCES CANADA logo painted on the hull. When the boat had safely slipped past the port dockage and was speeding down Douglas Channel, Summer walked into the cabin and sat on a bench near the pilot's seat.
”What do you do for the Natural Resources Department?” she asked.
”Coastal ecologist for the department's Forestry Service,” he replied, steering around a logging s.h.i.+p chugging down the center of the channel. ”I work mostly with industrial concerns in the northern British Columbia coastal region. I have been fortunate to base out of Kitimat, since the ongoing port expansion provides plenty of activity.” He turned to Summer and smiled. ”Tame stuff compared to what you and your brother do for NUMA, I'm sure.”
”Collecting plankton samples along the Inside Pa.s.sage isn't too wild and crazy,” she replied.
”I would be interested in seeing your results. We've had reports of concentrated marine mortality in a few areas around here, though I've never been able to successfully doc.u.ment the occurrences.”
”Be only too happy to work with a fellow disciple of the deep,” she laughed.
The boat snaked through the winding channel at high speed, gliding easily over the calm water. Green fingers of land laden with thick pines jutted into the sound, a series of scenic obstacles. Following their progress on a navigation chart, Summer instructed Trevor to slow as they entered the main cross channel of Hecate Strait. A brief rain shower pelted them for a few minutes, leaving them in a gray gloom. As they approached Gil Island, the rain lifted, increasing visibility to a mile or two. Looking from the radar to the horizon, Summer could see that there were no other vessels around them.
”Here, let me steer,” Summer said, standing and putting a hand on the wheel. Trevor gave her a reluctant look, then stood and stepped aside. Summer angled the boat toward the island, then slowed and swung north.
”We were situated about here when we noticed the Ventura running from the northwest, a mile or so off. She made a lazy turn, gradually coming up on our beam. Would have struck us if we hadn't jumped off her path.”
Trevor stared out the window, trying to visualize the scene.
”I had just taken a water sample. We saw no one at the helm, and a radio call went unanswered. I brought us alongside, and Dirk was able to jump aboard. That's when he found your brother,” she said, her voice trailing off.
Trevor nodded, then walked to the stern deck and gazed across the water. A light drizzle began to fall, streaming his face with moisture. Summer left him alone with his thoughts for several minutes, then approached quietly and grabbed his hand.
”I'm sorry about your brother,” she said softly.
He squeezed her hand but continued staring off in the distance. His eyes suddenly sharpened as he focused on something nearby. A white cloud had materialized on the water a few dozen yards off the bow. The vapor grew rapidly until it encroached upon the boat.
”Awfully white for a fogbank,” Summer said with a curious look. She noted that the air took on a pungent odor as the mist drew closer.
The cloud had billowed to the tip of the bow when the light drizzle overhead suddenly thickened into a downpour. Trevor and Summer ducked into the wheelhouse as a deluge of rainwater pelted the boat. Through the window, they watched the approaching white cloud disappear under the gray canopy of falling water.
”That was odd,” Summer remarked as Trevor fired up the motor. He aimed the boat toward Kitimat, applying a heavy throttle, as he noticed a scattering of dead fish whir by in the water.
”Devil's Breath,” he said quietly.
”Devil's what?”