Duke kept up a steady patter.
“River right there’s a nice hole.”
“Nice cast there, Jack.”
“Don’t forget to mend your line. There, that’s the ticket.”
“If you hook up again, use your reel. That’s what it’s there for. Don’t grab the line. Don’t horse it in.”
“What a beautiful day. Every day is a good day on the river, ain’t it?”
All of the land they were floating through was private, with just a few public spots marked by blue diamond-shaped signs mounted on T-posts. There were few houses or buildings along the shores and it seemed to Jack they were the only people on the river or, perhaps, on the planet. There were no take-out spots anywhere, and the truck and trailer would be miles ahead by now, he guessed.
He thought: Once you’re on the river, you’re on the river for the rest of the day. You can’t stop and go home. You can’t get out. There’s nowhere to go.
Although he was concentrating on the gentle bobbing of the strike indicator, Jack saw — or thought he saw — an odd movement in his peripheral vision from the back of the boat. When he turned his head and looked directly, he saw Tim pulling his arm back and jamming his hand into the pocket of his coat. There had been something black in his hand and his arm had been outstretched, but whatever it was was now hidden, and Tim wouldn’t look up and meet his eyes. Instead, Tim made a beautiful cast toward the opposite bank.
Jack shook his head and rotated back around in his chair. What had been in Tim’s hand? And why did he think it might have been a gun pointed at the back of Duke’s head?
Then Jack thought: Stop being ridiculous.
Duke backed the boat to the bank and dropped the anchor on the dirt with a heavy thud and said, “How about some lunch, guys?”
Jack had already reeled in because he could hear the increasing roar downriver. The sound was heavy and angry. He asked, “Is that the Chutes up ahead, Duke?”
“That’s it, all right. But we’ll grab some lunch here first.”
Jack was hungry and it felt good to step on hard ground and stretch his legs and back. Duke had said the camp was leased from a rancher exclusively for Duke and his fishing guides and it had a picnic table, a fire pit, and an outhouse. Tim headed for the outhouse first, and Jack followed. Duke stayed back at the camp and started a fire in the pit and dug items out of his cooler.
When Tim finally stepped from the outhouse, Jack smiled at him. “I really want to thank you again for inviting me along. This is really special.”
“Sure, Jack,” Tim said. But he seemed distracted.
Jack hesitated, wondering how to put it. Then he said, “Is everything okay, Tim? I know we don’t know each other all that well, but, well… Are you feeling okay?”
Tim looked up sharply. “Why do you ask?”
“Is there something between you and Duke, or am I just imagining things?”
Tim looked hard at Jack, as if searching his face for something or wondering what he should reply.
Jack said, “A while back, I looked in the back of the boat and I thought I saw something.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But I might have been imagining things.”
In response, Tim reached up and patted Jack’s shoulder as he walked past him. He said, “I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. I’m sorry.”
“Involved in what?”
But Tim was gone, walking alone toward the river far to the right of the camp.
Jack and Duke sat at the picnic table and ate hamburgers. Jack ate two and half a tube of Pringles. He washed it all down with two cans of Coors Light. He said to Duke, “I can’t believe I’m so hungry.”
“Being outside does that to you.”
“The burgers were great, thank you.”
“You’re paying for them,” Duke laughed, then shouted toward Tim, who was still standing alone on the bank, watching the river flow by. “Tim, are you sure you don’t want lunch? You’ve got to be starving, man.”
Tim didn’t reply. Duke leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “To each his own, I guess. Is he always this surly?”
“No.”
“I never got his last name. What is it?”
“Hey, I really don’t like gossiping about my host, if you don’t mind.”
“Sorry,” Duke said, “I should mind my own business. You’re right. Oh well, I’ve had worse in the boat. Luckily, I’m a people person. You have to be a people person to be a guide.”
“I guess you get some characters, eh?”
Duke laughed and shook his head from side to side. “You have no idea, Jack. You have no idea.”
Duke packed up the lunch items and secured the cooler to the floor of the boat with bungee cords. Jack waited on the bank, looking downriver toward the roar. He said to Duke, “You say there’s nothing to worry about, right?”
“Right,” Duke said, chinning toward the Chutes. “I’ve done it a million times and haven’t lost a fisherman yet. And right past the rapids is one of the deepest holes in the whole river. You’ll need to be ready to cast out as soon as we clear the rapids. We’ll for sure pick up some fish in there.”
“Jack, I’ll take the front this time.”
Jack turned. He hadn’t noticed that Tim had joined them. Tim’s face was ashen, and he looked gaunt.
Jack asked, “Are you sure? Duke says it gets a little splashy in front.”
“Yes. Please, Jack, step aside.”
Tim shouldered past Jack and stepped into the front of the boat and took the seat. He swiveled it around so it was backward and he faced Duke, who was already on the oars. Duke ignored Tim and spoke to Jack.
“I’ll swing the boat around so you can get in the back easy.”
Tim had his hand in his parka pocket and when he withdrew it he held a snub-nosed revolver. He pointed it at Duke’s face, not more than two feet away from him.
Tim said, “Start rowing.”
Duke’s face reddened. “Hey! What the fuck are you doing?”
Tim said, “I said start rowing. Pull up the anchor. We’re leaving Jack here. He doesn’t need to see this.”
Duke spread his arms, palms out. “Jesus, this is a joke, right? It’s a joke?”
Jack stood on the bank with his mouth gaped. Tim spoke to him without taking his eyes, or the muzzle of his gun, off Duke.
He said, “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m sorry I used you and brought you along. But I was afraid Randall would recognize my name if I made the booking. I’m sure Amanda told him my name.”
Jack noticed that the blood had drained from Duke’s face. Amanda, that was Tim’s wife’s name. Amanda.
Tim said, “Right, Randall? Right? She told you my name. She called you and told you when I was going on a business trip? Or a fishing trip? So you two could get together and humiliate me in my own hometown? Right in front of dozens of people who know me? I know all about it, Randall. Did you laugh at me when you were in my bed? Did you laugh because I was so stupid?”
“Look,” Duke pleaded, “it was Mandy’s idea. Really. We never laughed at you.”
“Mandy, is it? She never asked me to call her Mandy. It’s a stupid name. Like Randall. Or Duke.” A few wisps of Tim’s hair had dislodged from his scalp and hung down over his eye.
Duke said, “You don’t have to do this. This is crazy. Look, I’ll never see her again. I fucking swear it, man.”
Tim’s smile was terrifying. He said, “No, you’ll never see her again. You’re right about that. No one will ever see her again.”