Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(32)

“No way!” Preacher exclaimed, reaching for her hand. “I heard he got married. What’s he doing these days?”

She shrugged and made a half smile. “Guess. Iraq. Baghdad, last I heard.”

“Oh, kid,” Preacher said sympathetically. “And you’re here?”

“My dad just moved here—he’s out on the edge of town. A nice place for him and his horses. And my little brother, Tommy.”

“My lord,” Preacher said. “I can’t believe it. Right here!”

“The world just gets smaller,” she said, stepping back from the bar and pulling open her jacket to reveal a pregnant tummy. “I’m on my way to see Jack’s wife. I’m going to need her services.”

“Wow,” Jack said. “Look at you. First?”

“Yep. Just a few months to go.”

“Is Matt going to get back for the baby?” Jack asked her.

“No, but if we time this right, he should get a nice long leave when the baby’s a couple of months old.” She looked around, taking in the bar, the animal trophies on the walls, the rich dark wood. “So this is the place, huh? Boy, I’ve sure heard a lot about this place.”

“The boys love this place,” Jack said. “When Matt’s out, we’ll make sure he gets up here with the rest of them.”

“When he’s out? Hah! You think that’s going to happen? Matt’s a career Marine.” But she smiled, clearly proud of her man. And being a general’s daughter, she would be more than familiar with the rigors of military life.

“No rush,” Jack said. “We’ll be around a long time.”

Paige was summoned to the bar to meet Vanessa. Before long Mike made an appearance and was delighted to make the acquaintance of Matt’s wife. An invitation was extended for the general to stop by the bar for one on the house and Jack promised to get in touch with Vanessa and her father before Paul joined the next Semper Fi gathering, coming up soon.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Paul we’re here,” Vanessa said. “I’d love to surprise him.”

Five

Mike Valenzuela became aware that beneath the surface of a perfect small town there could be crime, some minor and predictable, some of an insidious nature. He thought often about the two patients Mel had presented as he visited casually with neighbors, with the high school in the next town attended by the Virgin River kids, asking what people did for fun around these parts. Most of the time he got the expected responses—adults had their own gatherings, parties, picnics, cookouts. They frequented restaurants, galleries, wineries and nightspots in and around the coastal towns, and of course just about everyone hunted and fished. Most of the community socializing surrounded school functions, from sporting events to band and choir activities, after which there would always be big gatherings among the parents.

Zach Hadley dropped by Jack’s once or twice a week for a beer and Mike took the opportunity to get to know him a little better—his link to the high school kids paid off almost right away. He said the teens had their school functions from games to dances, but they also had a few haunts. Parties, both with parents home and away, keggers in the woods. He’d overheard some talk about an isolated old rest stop back off highway 109 where there were a few ancient barbecue pits, bathrooms and picnic tables. Highway 109 had been heavily traveled before the newer freeway was finished and now was more of a daytime road, left to the teens by night. A perfect place, when the weather allowed, to bring a keg or a case of beer. Where Mike grew up in L.A. the kids had desert keggers or beach keggers—but out here, they had the forest.

“As long as they don’t get way back in the woods, far from the towns, they’re probably safe from problems with wildlife or marijuana growers,” Mike said. But were they safe from each other? Mike wondered.

“That’s true, then?” Zach asked. “All that illegal growing they talk about?”

“It’s true,” Mike confirmed. “Listen, if you ever have any concerns that I can help with, I wouldn’t let on where I got the information.”

“Actually,” he said, keeping his voice low, “I happened to see something—a half-written note—that startled me. Got my attention—but I wouldn’t have the first idea where to go with it.”

“I’m your first idea,” Mike said.

“It’s just gossip, you know. Sometimes things kids that age say can be shocking—and entirely fictional. But the note said something like stay away from those parties. There was a rumor about a girl ending up pregnant, though she couldn’t remember having sex.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “How’d you come across that?” he asked.

“A student left a notebook in class.” He shrugged. “I looked through it.”

Mike smiled. “I like your style. Nosy. Whose notebook was it?”

“I have no idea. I left it where I found it and it disappeared after lunch. Never saw it again, and I watched the kids, checked out what they were carrying into class. It belonged to a girl, I can tell you that. The doodles were all female.”

“You keep an eye on that, huh? Listen carefully,” Mike suggested. “That could be important information.”

“I know kids are going to drink some beer,” Zach said. “But if there’s any truth there, that’s some real hard drinking.”