A Delicious Mistake Page 4

  Benjamin didn’t know. He didn’t know what the extent of the Huttons’ pain would be. But he could imagine it might be what held them back from contacting anyone in Africa.

  Rage came back in a red-hot wave he barely managed to control. He had the sudden urge to grab his rifle, jump on a rangers’ Jeep, and drive off to find revenge for Luke. He resisted, of course. Not only would that be foolish, but he had no idea who to target for his vengeful purpose. Who could have done this? He was back to that question again. Why would anyone do something so dastardly? Luke Hutton had been the kindest man Benjamin had ever met, everyone at the Lodge said so. Who could have wanted to see him dead? For Luke to have died in such a gruesome manner was too horrific to even begin to fathom. And yet it had happened. It was real, and at the Game Lodge they would all have to deal with the loss of Luke.

  The more he thought about it, the less sense it all made. Yes, it was possible poachers were behind Luke’s murder. But the more he thought about it the more even that seemed farfetched. Why would they take such a risk? Why try to make the death look an animal killing? Things had been escalating with local wildlife rangers engaging in honest-to-god battles against poachers. That was almost a given when it came to Africa or anywhere else where others tried to preserve wildlife. While the number of rangers working in the parks was low compared to the area they patrolled, they had still managed to make safety a priority. They looked out for each other and the poachers knew that. Increased patrols would be of more help, as would the support of the Tanzanian government. But that help had never come.

  “One of these days, what we’re doing won’t be enough anymore,” Luke had said one night when it had been just the two of them by a campfire in the wilderness of the Serengeti.

  That had been the one and only time his best friend had allowed himself the luxury of truly expressing all of his fears aloud. Benjamin had tried to be positive, but somewhere in his heart he, too, knew the situation was grim. It had been destined to get grimmer.

  Never, however, had he thought it could come to this. It was as if Luke’s death had been a turning point, a slap in the face. It felt to Benjamin like the situation in the Serengeti was rapidly, unstoppably returning to the lawless state of his younger years. Back then, the poachers had been better armed, better paid, and better fed than the rangers. In those days, young Benjamin had watched the creases of worry etch themselves deeper and deeper on his father’s handsome features. George Ndlovo was a veteran Serengeti National Park Ranger. He had faced lead bullets too many times to count and had always managed to escape, even if narrowly. The fact that even someone such as his fearless father was worried over the situation had been enough to chill Benjamin to his soul.

  Still, George Ndlovo had refused to quit his job despite the risks and his wife’s begging for him to do so. Jobs had been virtually non-existent back then. Unless one wanted to turn to poaching, like many other ex-rangers had, there hadn’t been many options for a man who had a family. But George’s love for the Serengeti and its wildlife had been too strong for him to even contemplate the thought of turning his back on it all. He had passed that love onto Benjamin, along with a deep moral conviction that doing the right thing mattered. That had been a guide to Benjamin through all of his life.

  Now it urged Benjamin that he needed to do more. He had carried his father’s lessons with him always, from his very first day as a cadet to the day he was hired to survey the area of the Serengeti National Park that lay within the borders of the Huttons’ Game Lodge. He would never stop carrying those lessons with him, not until the day he died.

  Laying in the dark, he heaved a deep sigh and ran his hands over his face. His eyes burned and fatigue stung, but sleep eluded him. He wasn’t complaining, though. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to be reunited with his nightmares of screams and blood.

  Where had it all gone so horribly wrong? Why did Luke have to die? That was it, though—Luke didn’t have to die. It should never have happened and it certainly shouldn’t have happened like that.

  I should have been with him, Benjamin thought bleakly.

  That was another part of his sorrow and yet another factor that made dealing with this tragedy so utterly impossible—the guilt. His guilt crushed him. He should have been there. The police were right to point fingers at him. What had he been thinking, letting Luke take off on his own to an area where poachers had so recently and so boldly been? He should have postponed his search for information in town. He should have insisted that Luke take him along. He should have been there.

  He should have died with Luke, if necessary.

  No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he fought to convince himself his self-loathing wasn’t getting him any closer to finding out who had done this, Benjamin couldn’t let up blaming himself for what happened. He should have sensed it. He had that sixth sense, after all. But where had it been when he had needed it so desperately? He should have known danger would be lurking. He could have found a way to stop this horrible thing from happening.

  As frightening as the possibility of sleep was, Benjamin found himself almost wishing he could succumb to slumber. The nightmares were just that—bad dreams and nothing more. He wanted to be able to wake, get up, wash up, walk out of his hut, and go to ranger headquarters to find Luke waiting for him. They would go and get breakfast and talk about what they needed to do that day and the area they would patrol. They would enjoy eggs, toasted bread, fresh fruit, and coffee. They would talk about anything and everything that crossed their minds. Together, like it had always been.

  But it was never to be that way again and Benjamin knew an even worse day waited for him.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for Benjamin to realize trouble had just begun to bring disruption and chaos into his life. The instant he rose from his cot the next morning, his sixth sense kicked into motion—that same sixth sense that had betrayed him so horribly, leaving him unsuspecting that death was about to come and take Luke away forever. He had a very bad feeling now, and there was nothing he could do could shake it off. Not even the shock of splashing water onto his face as he washed up for the long day could remove the tingling that spread over his skin.

  For the first time in almost two weeks, he decided to eat breakfast. The weird experience of sitting at his usual seat without seeing Luke sitting across the table from him was made even weirder by the way the other Rangers kept staring at him. It was as if they couldn’t look away no matter how hard they tried, not that any of them actually tried. He had a feeling there was more behind their stares than just surprise that he had finally emerged from his self-imposed exile.

  Contrary to what most of the rest of the Game Lodge’s staff and the town inhabitants believed, his fellow Rangers, while perplexed by the accusations, had never truly seemed to share the suspicion that Benjamin might be involved in Luke’s murder. Still, Benjamin could have sworn he could read the look in their eyes now as they stared at him—some openly, some through sideways and hidden, more subtle glances. He saw suspicion.

  He sat down with a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs and toast and shook his head.

  I am getting paranoid, he thought. He dragged a weary hand over his face.

  Keeping his head low over his plate, he started to eat. Halfway through his meal, he heard the screech of the chair on the opposite side of the table being pulled back. He looked up sharply, ready to lash out at someone for usurping Luke’s seat. He found the very worried face of Thomas Blake staring back at him.

  Benjamin blinked in surprise. He didn’t say anything, however. He simply could not lash out at Thomas. It would have been like opening fire on the Red Cross. The kid still had an air of innocence about him that was at odds with this harsh, tough land.

  The kid greeted him with a tremulous smile. “Good morning.”

  Benjamin nodded. “’Morning.” He would not lash out, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for chit chat, either.

  “It’s
good to have you back with us.” Thomas waved at Benjamin’s plate. “I’m pretty sure that’s the first real meal you’ve eaten in days, too. Isn’t it?”

  Benjamin shrugged. It was, but he wasn’t going to admit it. He had been surviving on bread and water for the past two weeks, and even then he didn’t eat much of it. His whole insides had been tied in knots. For the first two days following Luke’s death, he had thrown up anything he had dared to put in his stomach.

  “So…um…” Thomas hesitated and wet his lips. “How are you?”

  Benjamin snorted. He looked Thomas straight in the eye and took some pleasure in watching the kid practically squirm in his seat. “How do you think?”

  Thomas cringed. “Yeah. Sorry, stupid question.”

  “Indeed.”

  A few moments of blissful silence went by before Thomas cleared his throat and said, “It’s just…we’ve all been worried about you, especially with your taking off on your own like you’ve been doing.” He waved a hand at the door as if waving at the entire world. “You know, with what happened and all…some of the guys were afraid you would get into trouble, too.”

  Calling what had happened to Luke “trouble” sounded so infinitely, mind-numbingly reducing. Luke Hutton had not only been murdered he had been mauled. On the same land he had sworn to protect until the day he died. He had kept his promise in the most dire of ways.

  Benjamin wanted to scream all of that to the kid and to all those men throwing sneaky and not-so-sneaky glances at him. He wanted to grab each one by the shoulders and shake until their teeth chattered and jarred together. He wanted to yell in each man’s face, “Don’t you see? Don’t you see what happened here? Why aren’t you screaming in pain and panic and anger? Why aren’t we all doing that?”

  But he didn’t. Instead, he shrugged and stood. “I need to be alone.”

  “Understandable.” Thomas climbed to his feet as well. “But maybe you shouldn’t be. And I don’t mean just in the sense of having someone to scout the land with you.”

  Benjamin frowned. “What do you mean then?”

  “I mean…” Thomas grimaced and glanced around but no one stood nearby. “You shouldn’t be alone and you don’t have to be because—”

  “Let me stop you right there.” Benjamin stepped forward and punched a finer into Thomas’ chest. He didn’t like where this was heading. The last thing he needed right now was a shoulder to cry on. “I don’t need any therapy session. All I need is to keep doing my job of patrolling. I could use someone with me, that much I’ll give you.” He had to admit he had been stupid, roaming off on his own like that. This was the closest he would ever get to saying that out loud.

  “It wouldn’t be therapy,” Thomas said, defensively. “Just a friend listening to you.”

  “I don’t need a friend, Thomas.” Benjamin turned away. And he really didn’t. He was too busy mourning the last friend he had. He threw his words over his shoulder. “I need a partner. Understand?”

  Thomas exhaled slowly from his nose. Benjamin wasn’t sure whether the kid was suppressing anger or if he was just uncomfortable. The kid’s hazel eyes widened in surprise as Benjamin’s words fully registered. “Wait…are you asking me to be your partner?”

  Benjamin shrugged. He knew Luke had been grooming the boy, and he felt it was somewhat his responsibility to continue with the task. “You did a good job last week, when I took you with me.”

  Thomas stared at him. “I’d…I’d be honored!”

  Benjamin rolled his eyes, but he had to admit he could feel a small smile tugging at his lips. He started for the door again. “Whatever. Just make sure you never keep me waiting. I hate it when anyone’s late for patrols.”

  Benjamin headed out and he heard Thomas scrambling behind him to finish his breakfast. He needed silence right now, and he hoped Thomas understood that and would respect that need.

  Ten minutes later they were getting ready to leave for the first patrol of the day when Isaac Alassane, the butler at the Hutton’s game farm, walked up to them with the town’s police chief in tow.

  Instantly, Benjamin’s stomach clenched so viciously that he feared he would throw up everything he had just eaten. He forced himself to remain calm and turned to meet the officer who was heading straight to him.

  “Mr. Bankole.” Benjamin nodded at the well-known and well-respected officer. He nodded to the catering tent. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I’m afraid I’m here on business.”

  In his sixties, Tobias Bankole was one of the most honest men Benjamin had ever known. It had been a blessing, Benjamin thought, that the man had ended up as police chief. It made for one less thing to worry about, knowing that at the very least you could trust the police, even if they couldn’t do much against poaching, not without government aid.

  Tobias had been a good friend of Benjamin’s father. Benjamin had known Tobias ever since the day he’d been born. As Benjamin grew up and became a ranger, the two men had ended up collaborating on a number of occasions and had come to deeply respect each other. Perhaps that explained the pain on his face as he spoke. “I need you to come with me, back to the station.”

  Benjamin blinked. “Why? Have there been any developments?”

  Tobias Bankole hesitated. Isaac had stepped into the background and looked like he would have loved nothing more than to disappear. Tobias met Benjamin’s stare. “I’m afraid I will need to question you again.”

  Benjamin frowned, confusion and foreboding mixing together in his guts. “Why? You already did.”

  Tobias sighed. He squared his shoulders and straightened up to his full height, which was still considerable for a man of his age. “You have become the prime suspect in the investigation of the murder of Luke Hutton.”

  Benjamin felt as if he had just turned to stone. It was one thing to be suspected, that was almost a given, considering everything. But to be considered the prime suspect was another matter entirely. How could they?

  He felt all eyes on him. He found the courage to look around. He realized that what he had seen in his fellow rangers’ eyes before was not suspicion at all. He saw the look again now and knew it to be sympathy for his loss and wariness of his pain. As he watched, that look changed and what he saw now in their eyes was suspicion. It burned his skin like hot coals.

  “Are you going to arrest me?” he asked through the haze of his shock.

  Tobias Bankole shook his head. “It’s just a questioning. I don’t have enough evidence to arrest you…yet.”

  Somehow, that sounded like a promise. Tobias Bankole was letting him know that no amount of respect, and no ties from their past, would let Benjamin get him off the hook if he really had murdered Luke Hutton. He knew Tobias planned to charge him.

  With the murder of his best friend.

  With the murder of his brother.

  He wondered then if the Hutton family believed him guilty—was that why no one called to talk to him? He wondered if Sarah, too, believed he had killed Luke.

  Chapter Four: Ominous Times

  What about that midnight phone call, the one that wakes you from your peace?

  Wasn’t that how the Carbon Leaf song went? Sarah thought about that long after the call had come. When it had come, Sarah had been dreaming about gazelles. To be more specific, she had been dreaming of being one. It was a game she and Luke had played as kids in Africa, running free in the vast, endless expanse of the Serengeti plains. Sometimes Benjamin would join them, but for the most part he either looked on or left them to their odd game, seemingly unwilling to intrude in that cherished brother-and-sister moment. Luke and Sarah would laugh and run, pretending to be either gazelles or zebras or, on their wildest days, a hybrid they had made up and dubbed gazebra, an animal with a gazelle’s horns and graceful body, and a zebra’s muzzle and powerful legs. They ran until their lungs burned and they collapsed onto the grass of the savannah.

  She had been dreaming of exactly that when the shrill ringing
insinuated itself into her dream and brought her back to the world of waking—which was boring and dreary and filled with rain falling outside her flat’s window in the smoky English night. Just the fact that she had heard the ringer was enough to make her heart rate speed up in worry almost instantly. Normally she was an extremely sound sleeper and nothing short of bombs being dropped overhead could wake her. But this phone call had, and that was enough to knot her stomach.

  The next thing she heard when the still-lingering images from her dream cleared was her father’s voice, muffled as it came from the living room of their large London flat. His voice held a note that Sarah couldn’t recognize or quite put a name to—but if she had to, she would have said it sounded like urgency and heartbreak. She was already out of bed and halfway down the stairs when her mother’s strangled, anguished cry came. Startled, Sarah flew the rest of the way down the stairs, through the corridor, and finally, finally into the living room. The flat had never seemed so awfully big.

  Nor had it ever looked so ominous. She walked into the living room, heart thundering in her chest. It seemed to Sarah like the dark hickory bookshelves with all their thick, leather-bound volumes were actually looming over her like gloomy sentinels who kept a dark secret. She didn’t want to find out what that secret was, but she knew she was about to and there was no escaping it.

  Her mother, Lucy, sat on the leather couch, pale and shaking and looking suddenly like a very frail thing. An hour ago she had seemed like an energetic middle-aged woman. Her father, David, sat in his wheelchair, the phone receiver to his ear. He was still talking, but the words didn’t register with Sarah. She was too shocked by her mother’s evident despair.

  “Mom?” she called, her own voice shaking. “What’s happening?”