“I also plan to tell them that his little wife would do just about anything to win the medallion hunt,” he said.

I stopped and turned to face him. “What?”

His mouth twisted into a smug smile. “You heard me.”

“Yeah, but it didn't make any sense.”

“Yeah, it did,” he said. His grin widened, his coffee-stained teeth yellow in contrast to his semi-tanned skin. “Made sense to me.”

“Explain it to me then.”

He pulled a roll of mints from his pocket and popped one in his mouth. He sucked on it. “You wanted that medallion.”

I shrugged. “So?”

“So I think you would've done anything to get it,” he said. He leaned closer to me. “Anything.”

“I just followed the clues,” I said, leaning back from his breath, which smelled like mint and cheap beer. I wondered if he'd knocked back one already that morning or if he simply sucked on mints instead of brushing his teeth. “It actually wasn't that hard. I was kind of surprised you hadn't found it sooner. I mean, being the defending champion and all. For the last two years or whatever.”

“Six!” he snapped. “Last six years!”

I knew that. I'd just wanted to see him freak out a little. And it was a pleasure to watch.

He crunched the mint between his teeth. “Yeah, well, I don't know. I'm having a hard believing you just followed the clues to find it. I smell something rotten.”

I sniffed. “Maybe you need a shower.”

“Ha. Pretty funny, little lady. But I think you know what I mean. I think you took matters into your own hands.”

My head was starting to hurt. “What exactly are you talking about?”

“You found the medallion,” he said. “And you found Harvey. Seems a bit too coincidental to me.”

“The medallion was on Harvey. It was sort of hard to not find both.”

He smiled. “Huh. Maybe you tried to blackmail Harvey into telling you where it was and things went awry.”

“Things went awry?” I asked, hardly believing what he was suggesting. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. Awry,” he repeated.  Askew. Wrong.”

“I know what the word means,” I said, irritated. “But we never even met Harvey.”

“So you say.”

“Because it's the truth.”

“So you say,” he repeated, staring down at me through his sunglasses.

I hated that he was getting to me, but he was. It was like his insanity was contagious and he was spreading it all over me. It was making me ill. And angry.

“The only reason I wanted that medallion was to beat you,” I said, pointing at him. “Because you're an obnoxious pig. We never met Harvey and we certainly wouldn't have hurt him over a stupid camp medallion.”

He grinned again, like an ugly fox. “Didn't seem like a stupid medallion yesterday.”

I started to scream something at him, but caught myself. I wasn't going to let him upset me any more than he already had. No way was I going to let a guy like Wayne Hackerman get the better of me. Call it competitive instincts or call it human pride, but I was going to do my best to be the bigger person in this situation.

“I think the only person who really cared about that medallion was you,” I said calmly. “What with your winning streak and all. So if anyone had a reason to blackmail Harvey for the location—because they couldn't figure out the simple clues—it was you.” I frowned. “Maybe I need to share that with the sheriff.”

His grin dissolved and his mouth dropped open.

“And maybe you attacked my husband last night because you were afraid he knew something,” I continued, just trying to think of the most inane things I could say to him. “Maybe you panicked and thought the gig was up and that's why you went after him.” I paused. “Gosh, I need to get back to my cabin so I can call the sheriff and share my thoughts with him.”

His fat cheeks glowed pink. “That's absurd! And your husband didn't see nothing. There was nothing to see.” His confidence was completely shattered. “You weren't even here the last time I saw Harvey!”

“Whatever,” I said, satisfied I had the upper hand. “I think I'll still share my thoughts with the sheriff.” I waved a hand at him. “See you later.”

I started walking away, then stopped. “And Wayne?”

“What?” he growled.

“Tell your wife and her boobs to stay away from my husband,” I said. “She ogles him one more time and I'll tear her tube top off and shove it down her throat.”

So much for being the bigger person.

FIFTEEN

Jake and I tried to remove ourselves from the crazy for a little while.

He was up when I got back to the cabin and, after I filled him in on my conversation with Delilah, we put on our swimsuits and spent the better part of the morning and afternoon lying around the pool, reading and talking. We were both keenly aware of the sheriff's vehicles coming and going on the trail, but we did our best to ignore them and concentrate on one another. We talked about what we were reading and the news and anything else that came to mind. I'd even managed a call to the kids and Jake hadn't frowned or reprimanded me. Instead, he'd waited impatiently for his chance to talk to each of them, teasing and joking separately with all four.

“Thought we shouldn't be focused on the kids,” I said lightly after hanging up.

“We shouldn't be,” he said. “But that doesn't mean we should ignore them, either.”

I chuckled and picked up my book.

“I can't believe Grace sprained her ankle,” he said, shaking his head. “You think she's okay, right?”

“It's the fourth time she's done it,” I reminded him. “She'll be fine.”

“And Emily? She said she might be going to a bonfire tomorrow night. I think there might be boys there.”

“I would hope there'd be boys there.”

He made a face.

“Jake. She's fifteen. She's going to hang out with boys. And like them.”

He held up his hand. “Stop. I don't wanna talk about it.”

“About boys? Why? You're one,” I pointed out.

“Precisely,” he said grimly. “And I know what fifteen year old boys are like.”

I opened my book to the page I'd been reading. “Should we go home?” I asked. “Leave early and tend to ankles and boys?”

He shot me a look.

“Well?” I said, raising my eyebrows. “I wasn't sure. I mean, I'd like to continue my vacation with you but if you're concerned about the kids...”

He nudged me with his elbow. “Fine. You've made your point.”

I chuckled and he picked up his book, too, and we went right back to what we'd been doing before: relaxing and enjoying each other's company. As much as I missed the kids, I did appreciate the fact that we were lounging alone by a pool, with adult books in our hands, and with no kids interrupting us or climbing on us or screaming bloody murder. It was exactly what I'd envisioned for our vacation.

After another hour or so, we went back to the cabin, showered (together) and made even better use of our kid-free afternoon. Instead of passing out, Jake immediately announced he was starving and I hopped out of bed to grab the binder Delilah had left for us. I remembered seeing ads for several restaurants in town and, sure enough, there was a pizza place that looked promising. So we dressed and  got into the rental car and drove into the town closest to Windy Vista.

The drive only took about ten minutes. We didn't go back the way we'd come but pointed the car in the other direction, maneuvering down a long hilly road that bisected a golf course. The course was in good shape—the grass was green and well-groomed, and there were several homes that dotted the course. I was surprised, mostly because Windy Vista felt like it was in the middle of nowhere. It was hard to imagine that people lived in the vicinity year-round, in homes that ranged from quaint A-frames to brick ramblers to brand-new log mansions. It was possible that all of the houses were vacation homes but I had my doubts. A quick glance into an open garage confirmed my thoughts: a snowmobile was parked inside, next to a red snowblower and a stack of snow shovels. Unless it started snowing here in August—not outside the realm of possibility in Minnesota—I was pretty sure there were year-round residents up there.