“No.”

  Agnes lit another cigarette. “After what that husband of yours said, you must be wishing you’d given him a whirl.”

  Amanda thought for a moment. “Not really, no. Call me old fashioned but I would have thought less of myself. If we ever get together we’ll be starting fresh.”

  Agnes blew a plume of smoke into the air. “There’s something to be said for that. I have only one question.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  Amanda smiled. “You’re right. I’ll go back up to Loon Lake tomorrow.” She looked up as Agnes’ maid brought them some fresh iced tea. “May I stay here tonight? I don’t want to be in that house all alone.”

  “Of course. We’ll have a couple of games of Scrabble, but be warned; I take no prisoners!”

  * * *

  Jackson climbed out of the boat, crossed the shoreline and was into the woods by the time his fellow team members had pushed off. They were going to pose as fishermen today and watch Reimer’s cottage. The team had no idea if he’d go to his cottage, but it would be a big break if he was cocky enough to start out from there. At this stage in his law enforcement career Jackson had learned to never be surprised by what people do.

  As for himself, he couldn’t risk being spotted by Reimer again, but he couldn’t sit still. Traynor had agreed that he should try one last time to locate the grow-op in advance of Reimer’s arrival. He set out, following a stream through a cut in the hillside. It was tough going and he had to be careful not to make any undue noise.

  His cell phone vibrated against his thigh. He unsnapped the pocket in the leg of his camos and took it out. ‘Reimer left Vancouver 0800.’

  He forced himself to stay calm. He had four hours, maybe five before the man arrived and made it to this side of the lake. He climbed steadily, trying unsuccessfully not to think about Amanda. In spite of his best intentions, she kept creeping into his thoughts. The more he thought about her, the more convinced he was that she knew nothing of Reimer’s illegal activities. And it wasn’t just because he was in love with her. There! He’d admitted it...he was in love with her. The idea of her with scum like Reimer turned his stomach and he was eager for the moment when she was free. Even if she didn’t choose to be with him, he wanted her to know that he offered a safe harbour where she could ride out the storm that was sure to follow Reimer’s arrest. He ducked under an overhanging ledge, took out his phone and pressed her number. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he wanted to hear her voice, tell her how he felt about her. He waited impatiently, but she didn’t answer. He disconnected and told himself that it was just as well.

  His feet slid in loose soil and he looked around, angered at himself that he hadn’t been paying attention. He was at the bottom of a small escarpment. The area was heavily treed, and at first glance he didn’t understand what he was seeing. A pile of scree like a small landslide sat at the bottom of the escarpment and yet there was no sign of a landslide above. His mind turned over the possibilities.

  Of course! The grow-op was reported to have some underground bunkers. This was the material that had been dug from the side of the hill. It had been dumped over the edge of the escarpment above and was screened by the dense trees. He was getting close. He looked at the stream again. It appeared normal, but that was understandable. After the water had been diverted to generate power they would re-route it to the original stream. He took the GPS co-ordinates and sent them to Traynor with a message. ‘Getting close’ he said. ‘Stand by for another report.’ If something happened, he wanted his boss to know where he was.

  * * *

  Vince pulled into the fast lane of the freeway and settled in for the drive. His mistress had been pleased last night when he told her he could stay, but then she’d started nagging him about leaving his wife. He wasn’t sure about that; he’d foolishly neglected to ask Amanda to sign a pre-nup, and he’d noticed something different about her last night. Defiance almost, which surprised him. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

  A phone rang, disturbing his thoughts. It wasn’t his ringtone and he frowned, unsure where the sound was coming from. He looked down at the phone charger. Amanda’s phone! He yanked it out of the plug-in and checked the display. Tiffany. Angry, he lowered his window and tossed the phone onto the grass on the median that ran between the split highway. She knew he didn’t want her associating with people who worked at the club. When would she learn? He forced himself to calm down and think about the upcoming harvest at the grow-op. According to reports, it was shaping up to be the best crop ever. Maybe he should start looking for some new distributors...

  * * *

  It wasn’t long until Jackson found the grow-op. He’d crossed the creek and moved laterally several hundred yards before continuing the upward climb. He was being overly cautious, but after all the man hours it had taken to find the site he didn’t want to spook them now.

  He approached the intake for the micro hydro from above. No wonder they hadn’t spotted it from the air; the PVC pipe had been sprayed neutral beige to match the forest floor, and the entire length was covered with camouflage netting.

  He crouched beside a tree and watched with high powered binoculars, virtually invisible in his camouflage gear. There appeared to be only one person on site and he nodded to himself; this coincided with what they’d been told. Containers with pot plants were everywhere and extended beyond what he could see. The buds were huge; a few more days and they’d be prime. He wondered at Reimer’s decision to come here when they were so close to picking, but that was something else that had been in the report; he liked to inspect the crops just before harvest. Maybe he’d been cheated in the past. Jackson didn’t know, but he was glad the man kept to a predictable routine.

  He checked his GPS position, sent a message and settled in to wait.

  After a couple of hours Traynor and the team arrived silently and Jackson pointed toward the underground bunkers.

  “Jeez” murmured Traynor, studying the layout through his binoculars. “That’s some operation.” He turned to Jackson. “I wonder which way he’ll come?”

  Jackson shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

  Traynor reached into his jacket, pulled out a phone and frowned. “Reimer just arrived at the cottage. There was one man waiting and they drove a bit farther along the road and went to a stable.” He looked at Jackson. “They’re coming by horse.”

  Jackson acknowledged and went back to watching the bunker. A gentle wind drifted down from above bringing some relief from the heat.

  After about three quarters of an hour his head came up and he smiled.

  “What is it?” Traynor spoke in his ear.

  “Jackson pointed to higher ground. Smell that? Reimer’s up there. He smokes cigars that smell exactly like that.”

  Traynor grinned. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The takedown was quick and easy; almost anti-climactic after weeks of searching and waiting. The agents stripped off their vests. Neither Reimer nor the other two men had drawn their guns, although they all carried. It was a textbook bust. Now for the paper work.

  Jackson looked up from the desk he’d occupied for the past several hours. He was having trouble focusing on the report when what he really wanted to do was pump his fist. Not only had this bust been a tremendous success, but the man behind the operation would be going away for a long time. The man who had treated Amanda with contempt could hurt her no longer. He wanted to shout it out to the other agents but put his head back down and forced himself to concentrate. He was tired, but it felt good.

  Finally, his report was complete. “Are you going to hold a press conference?” he asked Traynor.

  “Yup. The Force likes to let the public know that their tax money is being spent on something worthwhile.”

  Jackson nodded and thought about his brother. If taking down this operation could save even one kid from messing up his life, it was worth it. Mike was one of the lucky ones; he’d survived.

  “Boss, I was wondering if you could do me a favour.”

  Traynor raised an eyebrow.

  Jackson held up his phone. “I’ve tried to call Amanda a couple of times this afternoon and I can’t get through. I’m starting to get worried and I was wondering if we could use the Force resources to track her cell.”

  Traynor gave him a long look. “Because we’ll need to talk to her about her husband, right?”

  Jackson read something in his superior’s eyes. “Yes.” He sucked in a breath of air. “Plus it’s personal.”

  Traynor smiled, jotted something on a piece of paper and handed it over. “Here’s your authorization. And Jackson...”

  Jackson took the paper and looked up. “Yes, boss?”

  “We really do need to talk to her. There’s a lot of money to be accounted for.”

  “Right.” Jackson picked up the desk phone and started dialing.

  * * *

  It was after nine when Amanda woke up. Agnes had kept her up late last night playing Scrabble. They’d laughed and chatted while playing and Amanda realized that the older woman was lonely. She wouldn’t be going to the golf club any more, but she intended to keep in touch. She needed someone in her life who was forthright as much as Agnes needed a friend.

  “Good morning.” She wandered into the kitchen, her hair still damp from the shower.

  Agnes stood at the island, watching the small television on the far counter. “I was just about to come and get you. You’ve gotta see this.” She turned back to the television.

  Amanda thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. A head shot of Vince occupied the top left corner of the screen. A reporter was interviewing someone she didn’t recognize but it was the crawl along the bottom of the screen that had her mesmerized. “Vancouver nightclub owner Vince Reimer arrested in drug bust.”

  She darted a look at Agnes and then back to the screen. “This can’t be real.” She stepped closer to the television. “What’s he saying?”

  “Vince was arrested yesterday afternoon at some place called Sandy Lake. Hold on, they’ll probably show the footage again. You know how they show it over and over again. There are a couple of underground bunkers; they have their own power generator and everything.”

  “Who’s this guy? The man they’re interviewing?”

  “He’s a spokesman for the RCMP. The actual agents who made the bust won’t be interviewed so they can protect their identity.” Agnes was beginning to sound like a reporter herself. Amanda would have smiled, but she was in shock.

  “But Vince?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I can.” Agnes turned down the sound. “I’ve heard rumours here and there. That’s one of the advantages of being old; young people tend to treat you like you don’t exist.” She got up, poured a cup of coffee for Amanda and set it on the counter. “Think about it. Those clubs are a perfect outlet for drugs. There’s probably more than marijuana involved.”

  Amanda stared into the coffee. “Jackson” she said, her mind racing. “He’ll be seeing this. He saw Vince the other day when he came to get me. Oh my God, I wonder what he’s thinking!”

  Agnes opened a drawer, dug around and tossed a set of keys on the counter. “Here, take my car. You’d planned to go anyway. Now there’s more reason than ever.”

  “I can’t take your Jaguar.”

  Agnes waved a bejewelled hand. “I have another car. A word of advice, though. You’d better not go back home. The reporters will be camped out at your place.”

  “You’re right.” She ran back to her bedroom, slipped into her shoes and grabbed her bag.

  Agnes followed her to the door. “The police are going to want to talk to you, you know.”

  Amanda frowned. “Why?”

  Agnes shook her head. “Because you’re Vince’s wife. At least for the time being.”

  “Oh Lord. I don’t believe this is happening.”

  The older woman gave her a quick, fierce hug. “Drive carefully,” she said. “And let me know what happens.”

  * * *

  Ensconced in the luxurious car Amanda could almost believe that things were going to be all right. Why hadn’t she confided in Jackson about the cottage on Sandy Lake? By now he’d have put two and two together; he’d know she’d been less than truthful.

  A sudden thought struck her. What if he thought she was somehow involved with Vince’s illegal activities? She broke out in a cold sweat. No, he wouldn’t think that. He couldn’t think that. She recalled the last time she’d seen him. When he’d entered his number in her cell phone and handed it back to her she could have sworn that there was love in his eyes.

  She forced herself to focus on the traffic, but the thought stayed with her. Love. Amazing as it seemed for someone of her age, she’d never been truly loved by a man. Vince certainly hadn’t loved her; he’d as much as said so. But seeing the look in Jackson’s eyes, and having experienced the rush of desire that consumed her every time she’d touched him, she had an idea what love could be. With Jackson, love would take her to dizzying heights and he’d be there to hold and comfort her when things got rough. And in return, she would do the same for him. With Jackson there was no doubt that love would be a two-way street. She looked down at the speedometer, slowed down and pulled into the right hand lane. She wanted to get there in one piece, to see that smile on his face, to walk into his arms and tell him that she would soon be free.

  * * *

  It was mid-afternoon when she pulled in beside the restaurant at Loon Lake Resort. She caught a glimpse of Carlos in the kitchen and then he was outside, a surprised look on his face as she stepped out of the Jaguar.

  “Amanda.” He ignored the car. “What are you doing here?”

  It wasn’t quite the welcome she’d hoped for, but she was busy scanning the property. A few children splashed in the water, but other than that it was quiet in the heat of the afternoon sun. “I’m looking for Jackson.” She smiled at him. “Is he around?”

  “Jackson? No.” He was looking at her as if he didn’t know her. “He’s–”

  “Amanda!” Kathy walked briskly from her small office, her steps kicking up little puffs of dust. “What are you doing here?”

  Amanda looked at the woman she considered a friend. Kathy didn’t look pleased to see her. Did she think she’d come back for her job? Maybe that was why Carlos had greeted her so oddly.

  “I was hoping to find Jackson. Is he around?”

  Kathy looked at the Jaguar and then back at Amanda. Her eyes narrowed. “No. Jackson’s gone and I don’t expect him back.”

  Of course! They knew about the bust. How could they not?

  “Listen, you must have heard about the arrests.”

  The both nodded.

  “Well, this is going to sound unbelievable, but the man they arrested is my husband.”

  They looked at her steadily. Neither reacted. Animosity radiated from them in waves.

  “You knew.”

  Kathy nodded.

  Amanda lifted a hand, then let it drop by her side. “Of course you knew. And here I thought I needed to come up and explain it to Jackson. I should have told him about the cottage on Sandy Lake, but I was having such a good time here, just being myself, that I kept putting it off.” She took a step toward Kathy. “Are you sure you don’t know where he is? I’d really like to explain.”

  Kathy’s response was terse. “For all I know, he’s back undercover.”

  It took a moment for the words to register.

  “Undercover?”

  Kathy and Carlos exchanged glances. “Amanda, Jackson is an RCMP officer. He’s the one who made the bust.”

  Amanda recoiled as though she’d been struck.

  “Jackson?”

  “Yes. He’s been here scouting the area and waiting for...” she paused “...your husband to show up.”

  Amanda looked toward the boathouse as though Jackson might appear. “RCMP?” she repeated.

  Kathy nodded. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but he was what they call Team Leader on this one. They’re probably going to want to talk to you as well.”

  Amanda couldn’t take it all in. “That’s what Agnes said, too. But I don’t know anything.”

  “Who’s Agnes?”

  “A friend of mine.” She shoved her fingers up into her hair, massaged the sides of her head. “This isn’t a dream, is it?” She looked up, and Kathy shook her head.

  She stumbled to her car. “I’m sorry I bothered you.” She waved a hand vaguely around the property. “If Jackson shows up, tell him I came looking for him. Tell him I–” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Never mind, he probably wouldn’t believe me now.”

  She got in and pulled out before Kathy and Carlos could react.

  They watched the car disappear and Carlos turned to his boss. “You know, I believe her. I don’t think she knew about this.”

  Kathy nodded. “Me, too. And I think she’s in love with Jackson.” She smiled grimly. “What a mess.”

  * * *

  “She was here?” Jackson and Carlos and Kathy were seated at a picnic table. Jackson scratched at his beard. He couldn’t wait to shave it off. “What did she say?”

  Kathy glanced at Carlos. “She said she was looking for you. She wanted to tell you about the house on Sandy Lake, explain to you why she didn’t tell you earlier.”

  “And that was?”

  Carlos spoke. “She said she was having a good time here, just being herself.” He lifted his shoulders. “I believed her.”

  “I did too.” Kathy fell silent, and then thought of something else. “I said that the RCMP would probably want to talk to her and she said her friend Agnes told her the same thing.”

  Jackson nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “She mentioned Agnes to me as well.” He looked from one to the other. “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Not really.”

  They answered at the same time.

  “But I wish I’d been nicer to her.” Kathy smiled a sad smile. “It was such a shock seeing her; I’m afraid we didn’t give her a very warm welcome.”