Page 12 of Deadly Storms (Sunrise Lake #3)

News traveled fast in Knightly. The café was buzzing with the latest gossip. Vaughn tried to keep from smirking as he faced Shabina over the counter.

“Sean lost one of his newbies. Mr. Fish and Wildlife big shot lost his protégé on the trail.” There was a tiny bit of a taunt in his voice.

“Vaughn, it’s a serious situation,” Shabina reminded. “I know you don’t like Sean, but it isn’t about him. Think about that kid lost out there. He’s been gone overnight, and no one has found him yet. They’ve launched a full search for him.”

“I know. I do know I shouldn’t feel gleeful over Sean looking like a fool, but I can’t help it.

He’s such a jerk all the time,” Vaughn admitted.

“I’m a bad person, Shabina. I’ll admit it.

And so far, I haven’t said that a night spent in the spooky woods alone might do that Deacon person some good.

He needs a few manners taught to him. If he wants to be Fish and Wildlife, surely he has some skills in the forest.”

“You would think so, but apparently his skills weren’t so good because he did get lost.”

“Um, Vaughn.” Patsy leaned in close, whispering as she picked up two plates. “You actually are saying that a night in the woods would do Deacon good because he needs to learn a few manners.”

Vaughn snorted. “Color me bad. I’m sure they’ll find him today, crying for his mommy.”

“Let’s get to work,” Shabina finally managed and turned back to the floor. She had no idea what else to say to that. Vaughn wasn’t going to give Deacon or Sean any sympathy.

She made her way to Raine’s table. This time Raine was alone. Vienna was head of Search and Rescue. She was the one who had organized a search party for the missing intern and was leading the search party now.

The café had been built with the exact intent to show off the sky’s colorful display.

In Shabina’s eye, the building was a work of art and had captured her dream exactly.

Sitting at any booth or table in ninety percent of the café, one could see the vibrant colors spreading across the sky.

If a storm came in, those darker purples looked amazing and quite beautiful.

Patsy escorted a group of four men to one of the premier tables near the bank of windows showcasing the rising sun.

For a moment, Shabina’s heart dropped. Three of the four men wore the traditional garb of men from the Middle East. Her mouth went dry, and her hands went clammy.

She forced air through her lungs. They had visitors from different countries all the time, and she didn’t have problems with any religious beliefs.

What was wrong with her? Stella had already advised her that students were coming from the university.

They would be on her bird-watching tour as well.

“I guess I should work too,” she told Raine.

She waited until they had gone over the menu before she approached the table.

The men were speaking to one another in Arabic.

Two had Algerian accents, one sounded as if he might be from Turkey, and the last, she was certain, was from Belgium.

That meant nothing. As usual, she asked if they had any questions on the menu.

When each answered, she listened carefully to make certain she was correct about their accents and where they might have originated from.

Only the man from Belgium had a French accent.

Disregarding her natural inclination to wait until they asked questions, she chatted as if she knew little about their culture, asking if they’d met at the university and had been friends a long time. The answer was important.

Jules Beaumont had met the three others at Sunrise Lake.

They’d found they were attending the same university, although none shared the same classes.

Emar Salhi and Jamal Talbi were from the same tribe in Algeria and were furthering their education in the hopes of modernizing many of the agricultural techniques to help their people.

Deniz Kaplan, from Turkey, had met the two at the university and become friends.

He’d decided to take the opportunity to vacation in Yosemite with them.

They were pleased that Shabina was going to be their guide for the bird tour on Tuesday. They were looking forward to it.

Shabina couldn’t find fault with any of the four.

They treated her respectfully. Everything they said made sense.

It shouldn’t be a red flag that Jules Beaumont hadn’t known the others prior to coming to Sunrise Lake Resort and that he spoke fluent Arabic along with French.

Shabina spoke Arabic, Italian, and French as well as several other languages.

Many university students vacationed there.

Most were climbers or hikers. Some enjoyed fishing.

Sunrise Lake was the halfway point between Yosemite and Knightly.

Staying there in one of the cabins or the campgrounds with showers and bathroom facilities was a good compromise.

Getting permits to camp in the park was becoming difficult, and Knightly didn’t have a lot of accommodations.

She waited tables and made her rounds all the while keeping an eye on the four men. None of them seemed to take special interest in her. They didn’t sneak out their cell phones and snap pictures of her. They didn’t seem to be talking about her, but they lingered longer than most customers did.

The table across from theirs held the five young people who had been hired to rehabilitate the trails in Yosemite. The two women were in their early twenties. Both had dark, straight hair pulled back into ponytails.

“I’m Georgia, and this is my sister, Mandy.” The older of the two girls introduced them. “We’re from West Virginia and started out hiking the trails in the Appalachian Mountains. It’s so incredibly beautiful there. We always wanted to hike Yosemite and saw the job come up and applied immediately.”

“Do either of you boulder?” Shabina asked. It was unusual for anyone to come to Knightly and not want to attempt to climb the famous boulders.

The two girls looked at one another and burst out laughing. It was Mandy who answered. “No. I guess we’re in the minority. We’re avid backpackers. We’ve already mapped out so many trails we want to hike through Yosemite on our time off.”

“At least we won’t have to worry about you getting lost like that poor dude who didn’t make it back to his group last night,” said a blond man.

Shabina recognized him from the year before.

She gave him a bright smile. “Pete. It’s nice to see you again.

You too, Billy.” Like the women, they were also in their early twenties.

They’d frequented her café the year before so much that she remembered their routine orders for both breakfast and lunch.

They were definitely climbers, both boulder and trad climbers.

She wasn’t surprised that they’d taken jobs at Yosemite again.

Both men beamed at her. “Do you remember everyone?” Billy asked.

“Only my special customers. I try my best to forget the ones that give me trouble.” That was strictly the truth. She did try her best. It was impossible, but she gave it her best shot.

“I’m Charlie Gainer.” Charlie held out his hand to her. “I lived in New Orleans most of my life.” He had an accent. Southern? Cajun? French was spoken in New Orleans.

She shook his hand without hesitation. She’d learned that was one of the many things one did when owning a business. Even so, she found herself leery of him. She had to acknowledge she was becoming more paranoid by the moment when simply meeting new men made her nervous.

“How did you end up here?”

“Got the wander bug and set out to see the United States. Worked my way from park to park and landed here. I went backpacking in Shasta and ran into some people who couldn’t say enough about the Sierra. Saw the advertisement for work and hopped on it.”

Shabina liked all of them. They were heading up to Yosemite that morning and eager to start work. She liked their enthusiasm. She’d found quite a few of the newer hires for trail rehabilitation were genuinely nice people who cared about the parks and keeping them preserved for future generations.

“Have you checked out the trails in Yosemite yet?”

“Pete and I camped there last week,” Billy said.

Mandy laughed. “Georgia and I rented camp space up at Sunrise Lake and drove up to Yosemite to hike the trails daily. We did camp there, but just for the one night. Sunrise Lake spoils you, and I knew we were going to be working hard for the next few weeks, so I wanted to hit the spa.”

“Spa?” Charlie nearly spewed his coffee over the table. “There’s a spa at Sunrise Lake? I can’t believe the two of you were camping in the lap of luxury. I hit the hot springs just outside of Knightly. That’s my one luxury.”

Mandy lifted one eyebrow. “We can’t help it if we already know all the great places to hang out.”

Billy nudged Pete. “We used to go to those hot springs after we went bouldering. Now, too many people are there. It isn’t quite as nice as it used to be.”

“Don’t tell me you go up to the Sunrise Lake spa too,” Charlie said, disgust in his voice. “I won’t believe it.”

“No dirt under my fingernails.” Billy held out his hand.

Shabina couldn’t help laughing. She noticed Billy hadn’t claimed he went to the spa. He just couldn’t help taunting Charlie.

“I hope you enjoy your food. Patsy is your waitress. Please let her know if you need anything at all, and thank you for coming in.”

Shabina moved on to the next table. The four men from the university were still at their table.

She noted the two men from Algeria were drinking mint tea.

The one from Turkey had ordered an Arabic coffee.

The man, Jules Beaumont, from Belgium had ordered her qahwa , a roasted coffee ground with cardamom and flavored with saffron.

He’d also ordered her specialty ma’amoul , cookies stuffed with nuts and dates, and seemed to be enjoying them.