Free The Stalker by Gail Anderson-Dargatz Page B

he was always on time, he was a real west-coast guy. He wore sandals year round, though in the winter he wore wool socks with them. When he wasn’t guiding kayak tours for me, he played his guitar at the marina. He set his open guitar case on the sidewalk beside him, and tourists threw money into it. Busking paid well for him because he was a talented musician.
    I ignored him and held out my hand to the man seated next to him. “I’m Mike, your guide for the weekend. And this is our other guide, and your chef, Liz.”
    The man stood and took Liz’s hand first. He actually kissed it. “A real pleasure to meet you,” he said. Then he went on holding her hand as he gazed into her eyes. Liz pulled her hand away and laughed nervously.
    “I’ve never had a man kiss my hand before,” she said.
    “Yeah, he’s a real charmer,” said the woman seated beside him. Her sour face showed that she believed otherwise.
    “Gerald Williams,” the man said when he shook my hand. “I’m so looking forward to this.” He had a thick, lisping, upper-crust English accent. In fact, his accent was so pronounced that I wondered if he was faking it.
    “Have you just recently moved to Canada?” I asked him.
    “Hell, no,” the woman said. “He’s lived in Vancouver for twenty-five years. The accent comes and goes, depending on who he’s trying to impress.”
    I assumed by the way she talked about Gerald that this woman was his wife. I guessed she was here to see him off, but he hadn’t introduced her. That seemed odd. Also, I caught her checking me out in a way most wives wouldn’t, at least not in front of their husbands. She looked at me so long that I wondered for a moment if there was something wrong with my face or hair.
    I took a quick look at my reflection in the donut shop window. Everything seemed in order. Sara had told me I had “rugged good looks.” I guess she was right. I have a strong nose anda square jaw. I only shave every couple of days, so I often have a chin full of stubble, as I did this day. One of the benefits of running a kayak tour business is that I stay fit. My high school buddies had already started to grow beer-bellies, but I had gained nothing but muscle.
    “Are we still waiting for our other guest?” I asked Jason.
    “I am your other guest,” the woman said. She held out her hand. “Samantha Andrews.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry, Samantha.” I said. “When the secretary told me your company would send two computer experts and their names were Gerald and Sam —”
    “I know,” she said. “You assumed we were both men. Surprise, surprise.”
    “You don’t have to make a federal case out of it,” Gerald told her. “He made an honest mistake.”
    I felt an instant dislike for Gerald, so I hated to agree with him. But almost anyone would think at first that someone named “Sam” was a man. Samantha was right about one thing, though. Gerald’s heavy English accent did come and go. I noticed only a hint of it when he talked to her.
    “Men always underestimate what women can do,” she said. “They hear the title ‘doctor’ or ‘computer programmer,’ and they assume the person must be a man.”
    “Oh, here we go,” said Gerald. “Another lecture from Sam.”
    “That’s Samantha to you,” she said. Samantha turned away and drank coffee from one of the donut shop’s mugs. Her short hair was carefully styled and stiff with hairspray. She wore a dry suit that she had obviously bought especially for this trip. The plastic loop that once held the price tag was still on her sleeve.
    Gerald hadn’t bought his coffee here at the donut shop. His throw-away cup and his box of donuts came from Tim Hortons. He held up his coffee when he saw me glance at it. “Will there be a Tim Hortons anywhere along our route?” he asked.
    Jason snorted out a laugh.
    “No,” I said. “I’m afraid not.”
    “No coffee shops of any kind,” said Jason. “No nothing, for miles and miles.”
    Jason was