THE FIRST TIME a reporter called to ask for an official comment from Ranger Ash Kingfisher, the man in charge of the Otter Lake Ranger Station, Macy Gentry made the mistake of asking for more details. Most of the calls that came in to the station were easy to handle. Directions. Suggestions for hotels. Campground reservations. Questions about the best time to visit to see otters or bears or fall color. Sometimes there was an odd call that got misdirected from one of the state or national parks, but after four years, she’d learned to manage everything like clockwork.
Today, her foolproof system had hit a snag with one simple request for a quote from her boss. She’d stumbled; the reporter had pounced, demanding to know Ash’s whereabouts, and she’d hung up the phone.
Since she took pride in her phone skills, that abrupt ending had been enough to rattle Macy.
Very rarely was she pushed to that extreme. Rudeness had no place at the visitor desk of the ranger station. Unfortunately, that rare snowflake had turned into an avalanche of similar calls.
“Sharks, the lot of ’em.” As soon as there was one drop of blood in the water, she had a swarm on her hands. After more than an hour of juggling calls, Macy was feeling a bit bloodied and a whole lot frazzled. “What I need is a harpoon, scatter them sharks with one shot.” Irritated with her own overreaction to the problem, she muttered, “Get a grip, Macy. It’s easier to turn the ringer off on the phone.” The ranger station had protocols for every conceivable emergency.
“Almost every emergency.” Macy flipped through the binder she’d insisted Ash put together before slapping it back in the labeled slot where it lived. He’d been exasperated by all her “just in case” scenarios. “Looks like I left one off the list—attack of the reporters.”
Since she prided herself and intimidated those around her with extreme capability, losing control of the situation was not an option. Macy had a lot of work to do. The ranger station served as the administration building for all the law enforcement rangers and park guides responsible for the educational programs and public outreach at Otter Lake. In this building, everyone had an important job and they all answered to the head ranger, Ash Kingfisher.
Ash made his reports to the chief ranger in Knoxville, along with the fire chief and head rangers of the two other, smaller ranger stations at Awi on the north edge and Lena Prospect on the far southeastern line, but he was the man who kept Otter Lake operational, and she was his right hand. This circus was hampering her ability to mark things off her to-do list.
The man who might explain exactly why there was all this attention on the station was currently AWOL.
With great difficulty, Macy ignored the ringing desk phone to pick up her cell phone and glared hard at the screen. He should have answered her call for help by now.
“In this crazy ol’ world, I got you, Ash Kingfisher. Don’t you let me down,” she muttered and then switched her glare to flashing lights on the ringing desk phone. The second line, the one that only rang when she was absent or too sick to function at an acceptable rate of speed, was lit up. “That devil’s selling popsicles today because something has got to be freezing over.” Macy took a deep breath and picked up the first line. “Otter Lake Ranger Station. How may I assist you today?” Macy hoped she was the only person picking up on the crack of strain.
“I’m headed in your direction. ETA ten minutes.” Brett Hendrix’s deep voice was pleasant but not the one she’d been hoping for. As the head of the rangers handling law enforcement at the Smoky Valley Nature Reserve, Brett would be adequate backup, even if she’d much prefer Ash for a situation like this.
Covering her disappointment took a second. “Thanks for the call, hon. I’ll put out the welcome mat.” Then she hung up. Decoding what it meant that Brett was coming to the rescue instead of Ash would take too much time and brainpower, so she picked up the other line as line one lit up again. “Otter Lake Ranger Station. How may I assist you today?”
“I’d like to speak to Ash Kingfisher. This is Bailey Garcia, from Channel Six News.”
Bailey was using her professional reporter’s voice, so Macy returned the gesture. “The head ranger is currently out of the office. I’m not sure when he will be returning. May I take a message?” Barely ten o’clock. She had to start closing down this circus, so she could get her day back on track. Where was an empty clown car when she needed it?
“I’ll call back, but I was wondering if you might have a comment on the bombshell breaking from the capitol today?” The silence that followed was wide-open.
“I’ll need a little more information than that,” Macy said. She’d never been known for her ability to keep a secret, so maybe it was a good thing she was in the dark. Macy Gentry had also never learned to avoid trouble. “What ‘bombshell’ are you referring to exactly?”
Without some direction, what could she say? That her boss hadn’t come in to the station when he was supposed to, and he hadn’t called to tell her why?
“Governor Duncan has called a press conference in response to an environmental impact study that shows the lodge the Callaways are pushing through will cause irreparable damage to The Aerie, the highest point in the Reserve.” The expectant silence thrummed down the phone line.
“What does that have to do with Ash?” Macy asked. Why weren’t the reporters flocking to the Callaways?
“Whit Callaway, Senior, is demanding to know who is responsible for releasing the report and for dragging the Callaways’ political opponent into the fray.” The pleasure in Bailey Garcia’s voice told the real story. All this fuss was about a hot sound bite, ready to lead the nightly news. “His son has been gaining ground in the polls, giving Governor Duncan a serious run for his money. This report may damage those gains and whoever gave it to the governor has made a powerful enemy. Speculation has turned to the most vocal critic of the new lodge.”
Since Ash had never learned to hold his tongue about things that mattered, he was the number one opponent to the lodge’s construction.
It made sense.
Ash was as predictable as the sunset. His unexplained absence was enough to convince Macy that Ash was in the center of the storm. The fact that she was the last to know? Annoying as all get-out.
If Macy closed her eyes, she could see Bailey Garcia on the television screen, her perfect dark hair in a sleek bob. She smoothed one hand down her ponytail before snatching a pen off her desk.
“I have no comment. All official Reserve press communication is handled by the public affairs officers in Knoxville. If you’d like to leave a message for the head ranger, please don’t hesitate to call back.” Macy gently set the phone back in the receiver and took a deep breath.
Her cell phone showed no new texts, but the flash of light outside drew her attention to the tall windows that made up one side of the Otter Lake Ranger Station and Visitor Center. On normal days, a peaceful view of a nearly empty parking lot and the forest and mountains beyond was a pretty picture.
Now that view was blocked by a news van that hadn’t been there ten minutes ago and what might grow into a full-blown paparazzi pack unless she acted quickly.
Gentrys didn’t dither. Gentrys took control. Ash was out of the picture for a minute, but the district office in Knoxville might have answers. She waited for one of the lines to clear and hit the first speed-dial button.
“Smoky Valley Nature Reserve District Office. This is Kayla. How may I direct your call?” Kayla had been the third person to take over reception since Macy had landed the spot at the ranger station. She was probably facing the same barrage of calls Macy had. Her ability to pretend it was just another day explained why she’d outlasted the others.
“Hey, girl, it’s Macy. My phone is ringing off the hook with reporters looking for comments from Ash. Is Winter around? If there’s an official