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  Steven had been super apologetic to us too. He and Casey were both out of town this time, but when I’d called the other day about us coming, he’d insisted on comping us for as long as we wanted to stay. They were even providing the wilderness guide for free.

  “Well, some scoundrel went and shot poor little Ricky in the keister with bird shot,” Cherry continued, not seeming to notice the chill in Joe’s voice. “He was just a tiny thing, but he had a big heart. Steven and Dan nursed him back to health—well, everything except that bald patch on his butt. But Casey didn’t want him running around the lodge causing a ruckus with their guests, so—”

  “So now he’s running around our store causing a ruckus with ours,” Ken cut in jovially, stepping back into the store from outside. “The van is parked out front now, so you can get on the road whenever you’re ready, Cherr.”

  “Thanks, hon.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “We’re just suckers for helpless things in need. No kids of our own, you know.”

  “With Ricky, we’ve gone from helpless to help us,” Ken said. “Every now and then we send him out to the lodge for a playdate with Steven and Dan to give us a break from raccoon-rearing.”

  Ken nodded at the stuffed bear key chain Jones had picked out before Ricky stole Joe’s trail mix. “Nice choice, young lady. The bears are always a favorite. Step on up to the counter and I’ll ring you up.”

  “It’s for my mom. I always bring her back a little something when I go away from home,” Jones said, setting the key chain on the counter.

  “Hey, it’s Commander Gonzo!” Joe exclaimed, pointing to the wall beside the counter.

  The kooky bush pilot who had flown us from Bear Foot Lodge to Black Bear Mountain on our last trip stared back at us from a poster advertising his charter plane business. That flight had been both the shortest and the most hair-raising plane ride of my life.

  “That guy’s really a pilot?” Jones asked, staring dubiously at the picture of the goofball in the battered floppy hat, oversize yellow aviator glasses, and impossibly tacky floral Hawaiian shirt. He was grinning ear to ear while giving the camera the double thumbs-up from the cockpit of his small Cessna airplane. Below that, the poster read, SKY-HIGH CHARTERS BY RETIRED USAF FLIGHT COMMANDER D. “GONZO” GONZALES.

  “Gonzo may be a bit eccentric, but he’s the best bush pilot in the whole region,” Cherry said proudly.

  “Also the most terrifying,” I added. “He’s a super-nice guy, and he flew back up to rescue our friends when they were stranded. I’m just not sure his grasp on reality is the tightest. He almost crashed just for kicks, and that was before we even took off. He told us his old squadron nicknamed him Doc Gonzo because he spent so much time in the infirmary recovering after wrecks. Everyone on board thought we were done for.”

  “Eh, you say ‘terrifying,’ I say ‘exciting,’ ” Joe countered.

  “The Commander is out of state on a charter assignment for corporate clients for the next couple weeks,” Ken explained.

  We’d tried calling him after we received Aleksei’s letter and got a recorded message saying the same thing. Gonzo being gone-zo may have been the best thing for my nerves, but it definitely complicated the expedition. The flight from the lodge had taken only a few minutes. Traversing the backcountry on the ground and hiking in was going to be an intensive, all-day affair. We’d tried a couple of other local charter outfits, but they’d been booked solid.

  As Ken handed Jones her change and a small paper bag with her key chain, a souvenir mug filled with pens next to the register caught my eye. It read, I SURVIVED THE WILD MAN OF BLACK BEAR MOUNTAIN in bloodred letters with a drawing of a maniacal-looking, wild-bearded hermit based on the legend Aleksei had fostered for himself to scare people away.

  “Big seller, that one,” Ken said, seeing my glance. “We’ve got T-shirts and tote bags too. This is another popular one.”

  He pulled out a hoodie that said BLACK BEAR MOUNTAIN on the front and HERMITS, MOBSTERS & BEARS, OH MY! on the back.

  Cherry gave the sweatshirt one of the same tsks she’d given to Ricky earlier. “I think it’s just scandalous they’re letting that scary mobster out of prison so soon.”

  “He’s really not that scary once you get to know him,” I told her.

  “I probably wouldn’t even be alive it weren’t for Aleksei,” Joe said. “If it had been up to me, he wouldn’t have gone to prison at all.”

  It was actually in part thanks to us that he hadn’t had to go away for longer. I’d figured out that the statute of limitations had run out on most of his crimes, and we’d even provided affidavits about his heroism to his defense attorney so he could plead for leniency with the judge. It helped that Aleksei was truly remorseful for what he’d done: with Dr. Kroopnik’s help, he’d sold a fortune in super-rare demantoid green garnets over the years and anonymously donated all the money to his victims. Because his crimes were so old and none of them were violent, the judge agreed to a short sentence in a minimum-security prison as punishment for faking his own death so other fugitives wouldn’t get the same idea.

  “I never got the chance to meet Mr. Orlov, but I’m grateful to him for helping my boyfr—I mean my friends,” Jones said, blushing a little as she corrected herself before continuing, which made me blush and made Joe roll his eyes again. “I think sometimes people can do bad things and still be good people if they take responsibility for their actions and try to make things right. He even turned himself in to help people who needed him. I’m proud of Frank and Joe for standing up for him, even though it wasn’t popular with everyone.”

  “Well, I don’t know about all that,” Cherry said skeptically. “I’ll be in the van when you’re ready.”

  As she headed for the door, Ricky hopped up to follow her, jumping up on the counter and grabbing a piece of beef jerky out of Joe’s hand on his way out the door.

  “Hey! That’s mine!” Joe protested.

  Ken sighed and shook his head. “That raccoon eats more of our inventory than anyone in town.” He picked a fresh stick of jerky out of a bin on the counter and handed it to Joe. “On the house. You have to understand, that whole ordeal with your mobster hermit friend frightened a lot of folks around here.”

  “From all the souvenirs with the Wild Man on it, I’d say it’s been pretty good for business, too,” Joe pointed out.

  “I gotta admit, it has been recently. That cannibal hermit legend scared a lot of visitors away from the area for a long time, though. All the press your adventure and Orlov’s arrest got thankfully changed that overnight. Lots of outdoors-lovers got to see how beautiful it is up here from all the pictures in the news, not to mention all the lookie-loo tourist types that make the trip just to see where all the scandal happened. And almost everyone who goes out there stops here first, since Last Chance is the last stop before you hit the wilderness.”

  All those tourists might be good for the town’s economy, but they weren’t necessarily good for the woods or Dr. K. Not all hikers and campers were responsible when it came to leaving the woods as pristine as they’d found them, and they might even be getting in the way of Dr. K’s research. Could he have gotten into a fight with one of them?

  “Speaking of hitting the wilderness, we’d better get going,” Joe said. “We’ve got a long day of trekking ahead of us, and we don’t want to lose too much daylight.”

  “Have a safe trip!” Ken called as we headed for the door. I could hear him talking cheerfully to himself behind the counter as we left. “Hmm, maybe we can get Orlov to pose for pictures and sign some of our Wild Hermit T-shirts when he gets out.”

  Well, if nothing else, Aleksei’s ordeal had opened up a whole new tourist trade for the tiny town of Last Chance.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry if I seemed a little testy back there,” Cherry said with a sheepish smile as we climbed into the back of a passenger van with the words LAST CHANCE GENERAL—MOUNTAIN SHUTTLE emblazoned on the side. “I didn’t mean to talk b
adly about your friend. It just upsets me a little knowing there was a real-life criminal hiding in our own backyard, scaring people for all those years.”

  Ricky chittered in what seemed like agreement from a child seat in the passenger seat next to Cherry. He was even strapped in with a seat belt like a little furry kid.

  “It’s understandable that you were frightened, but Aleksei really is a good guy,” I said. “He’s looking forward to coming back and showing everyone he can be a valuable member of the community.”

  Cherry didn’t look convinced, but she smiled anyway.

  “Oh, I almost forgot! I’ve got something for you before we hit the road. Just a little token to say thanks for your business and apologize for Ricky terrorizing you all like that.” She handed Joe a braided camouflage bracelet with a small compass built into the clasp. “Last one we had left in stock, so you’ll have to share. It’s made of the same kind of paracord the special forces use. Virtually unbreakable. Get yourself in a pinch, just unbraid it and use it as rope. And the compass’ll make sure you always know which way you’re going.”

  “That’s awesome, Cherry. Thanks.” Joe snapped the bracelet onto his wrist. “Pretty snazzy.”

  “So you and Ken haven’t heard from Dr. Kroopnik at all for almost two months?” I asked. I’d asked Ken over the phone when we booked the shuttle as well, but it’s always good to be thorough.

  “Not a peep. Max usually flies his chopper down every five or six weeks or so to stock up on supplies, pick up his mail, and drop off honey for us.”

  “Honey?” Joe asked. Of course my brother was interested in the food part of it.

  “Oh, yeah, he’s quite the beekeeper, and his hives make just the most exquisite honeycomb. Max says it’s something to with the pollen from the fancy rare flowers up there on Black Bear Mountain. I don’t know about all that science stuff, but wow, is that honey good. The customers love it. Flies off the shelf as soon as he drops it off.”

  I was pretty sure Cherry meant the indigenous Siberian flowers from the seeds Aleksei brought with him to make his mountain hideout feel more like his childhood homeland.

  “The fancy flowers you’re talking about are probably the native Ural Mountain species Aleksei planted,” I informed her.

  Cherry smiled at us in the rearview mirror. “Well, see there, I guess I do have something to be thankful to your Mr. Orlov for.”

  It was nice to hear we were winning new friends for Aleksei, but it was Dr. K I was really worried about. “No one’s gone up there looking for Dr. Kroopnik to see if he’s okay?”

  “Nah. Max keeps his own schedule,” Cherry said casually. “Not unusual for him to wander off into the woods for weeks at a time for some science-y reason or another. Wish he’d hurry up and get back from wherever he is, though, because we’ve been out of his honey for weeks, and the regulars are getting ornery about it.”

  “What about the new scientist who’s been doing research on Black Bear Mountain, Drawes?” asked Joe.

  “Humph, that city slicker,” Cherry replied disdainfully. “Now Max Kroopnik may not be a local, but he’s been living out here for a few years now and does all he can to support our little economy. Buys all the supplies he can from us, even the stuff that costs more than it would if he ordered from those blasted big-box stores who like to undercut all the little guys ’n’ gals. Drawes? That cheapskate drives in all his own supplies and has the rest shipped in off the Internet. Only time he bothers with us is to use the post, but he won’t drop a penny in the shop or any of the other local businesses, for that matter. The way he looks down his nose at the locals, you can pretty much hear him calling us hillbillies in his head.”

  “Has Dr. Kroopnik said anything about him?” Jones asked.

  “Oh, Max doesn’t like the fellow any better than we do,” she confirmed. “Said he thinks Drawes may even have sabotaged some of his experiments.”

  Jones, Joe, and I shared a concerned look. Aleksei’s letter had implied something similar. I’d done some online research on Drawes before our trip, and the results weren’t encouraging.

  “He’s published a few articles attacking the methodology of Dr. Kroopnik’s mountain lion research,” I shared. “That kind of vocal criticism can be really damaging. There are limited grants available to fund scientific research like this, and competition for them is fierce.”

  “Is it fierce enough to take out a rival?” Jones asked. “Because that’s what it sounds like this Drawes guy is to your friend Dr. Kroopnik.”

  Jones’s question lingered in the air. If a person was willing to resort to sabotage to get ahead of the competition, what else might they be capable of?

  “Come to think of it, poor Max seems to be getting into all kinds of squabbles lately,” Cherry said, grabbing our attention again. “Been lots of tension between him and the folks at the lodge, too, ever since that stunt Casey’s sister pulled, tying him up and stealing his identity the way she did when you boys were here last. Don’t think Max ever forgave Steven for letting it happen. Doesn’t help that Steven is fly-fishing buddies with Drawes either. Sad to see friends fall out like that.”

  The three of us did a retake of our concerned look. That was two people who had bad blood with Dr. Kroopnik, and they both knew each other. When I looked out the window, I could see a dark cloud of smoke rising into the sky beyond Black Bear Mountain like a bad omen.

  3 VIP TREATMENT

  JOE

  IT’S A GOOD THING THAT forest fire is on the other side of the river, north of Black Bear Mountain,” Cherry said, wrinkling her forehead at the smoke rising over the next mountain range. “The air quality’s been none too good, but the rangers say so long as the weather holds like it’s supposed to, it isn’t a threat to Black Bear or the valleys this side of the mountain.”

  The river ran down Black Bear Mountain through a large valley a few miles below where the lodge is. I’d flown it in a helicopter with Aleksei, so I knew it well.

  “I wonder what Dr. K thinks about the wildfires as a scientist—assuming he’s okay.” Frank paused and bit his lip before continuing. “Fires like the ones out west can be devastating, but in some circumstances, periodic or controlled burns can be a natural, and even healthy, event in an ecosystem’s life cycle—”

  “Yeah, when they’re controlled or natural,” I said, interrupting Frank. “According to the news, the rangers think this one could have been set by a person.”

  “Why would anyone start a forest fire?” Jones asked incredulously.

  “Probably just some careless campers,” Cherry speculated. “Lots of the city folks who come up here don’t know a lick about campfire safety or how to take care of a campsite. They start their weenie roasts willy-nilly without worrying about what’s around them, leave the embers burning when they’re done without dousing them, and don’t think twice about tossing cigarette butts in a pile of dry leaves.”

  Cherry grew angrier as she spoke, and I didn’t blame her. I love nature and take my responsibility to help care for it seriously. Our first trip to Black Bear Mountain to see Dr. K had even been with the Bayport High environmental conservation club. But even if you’re just visiting the outdoors to have fun, responsible hikers and campers live by the motto “Leave it better than you found it.” Because if we don’t take care of the natural world around us now, it won’t be around for us to enjoy later.

  Even with the smoke and the eerie light it caused, the place was mind-blowingly beautiful. There were farmhouses along the way, but most of the trip was all woods and wildlife. The rest of our shuttle ride passed in a blur of gorgeous mountain scenery—and Ricky’s raccoon snores. Yes, raccoons snore! And it’s loud!

  * * *

  “Good luck, kids. I’ll be back with the van in three days for the return trip home,” Cherry chirped as we unloaded our gear from the van a little while later. “I’d normally stick around for a glass of the lodge’s homegrown herbal sun tea, but Ricky and I have to get back to the shop to help
out Ken. Stay safe, ya hear?!”

  “Rick-rick-rick-rick,” added Ricky.

  The three of us took in the rustic log cabin wilderness lodge, surrounded by beautiful mountains and a ton of awesome outdoor activities, from zip lines to white-water rafting to horseback riding. Bear Foot Lodge looked like it had gotten a bunch of expensive new upgrades since we’d been there last too.

  “Whoa, this place is amazing!” Jones said as the van pulled away.

  “We like to think so,” chimed the pretty young woman with short blond hair and rosy cheeks now standing the lodge’s doorway. She was carrying a tray with three tall, frosty glasses of iced tea and, from the delicious smell of them, fresh-baked oatmeal raisin cookies. “Welcome to the woods. I’m Casey’s cousin, Amina, the new assistant innkeeper. You can leave your bags on the porch for now and grab some refreshments. Dan will bring them in.”

  “Don’t mind if I do, thanks,” I said, dropping my bag and grabbing a glass of tea in one hand and a warm cookie in the other. “This cookie is delicious!”

  Amina smiled. “Fresh out of the oven just for y’all. Casey was super bummed she couldn’t be here to greet you herself.”

  “This tea is amazing. What is that, hibiscus and mint?” Jones asked.