Frankie glanced at him, a flicker of pride crossing his face. Then he turned back to see where Scout was—way behind, helping an older couple navigate the rocky terrain—before his attention returned to Chase. He opened his mouth to answer,but before a single word could escape, Wabanaki appeared. Out of nowhere. Like the guy had materialized from the fog. Walked right along with them ... and Frankie went silent.
Later, Frankie was the last one out of the whale-oil-house-turned-museum, latching the door and checking it twice. Chase lingered behind the group of tourists to try again. “So, Frankie, ever find something out here that made the rangers do a double take? Bet you’ve got some cool stories.”
“No kidding!” Frankie said. “You wouldn’t believe what happened just yest—” And there was Wabanaki. The kid snapped his mouth shut like a turtle.
Chase sighed inwardly. So, that was how it was going to be. Every time he was close to getting something out of Frankie, Wabanaki would swoop in like some kind of human firewall. Frustrating, sure, but it also confirmed that Chase was onto something. If there wasn’t a story here, no one would care what he and Frankie talked about.
As the group moved on, Chase hung back a little farther, filing away the day’s observations. He might not have cracked anything yet, but he’d gotten one thing clear: There was something going on here and it had to do with a shipwreck and with gold. What he didn’t know yet was which shipwreck, when it happened, where the gold was, or why the NPS rangers and a Native American policymaker were working together so closely. Those details were what he needed to find out. Soon.
Boots clicking on the old stone path, Scout walked as fast as she could to keep up with Naki’s long strides, trying to settle down her wobbly nerves. Fat chance. The whole day had been unsettling. Chase Fletcher on the tour boat, basically ignoring her. Acting like he hardly knew her. Avoiding her on the island. Afterward, he even left the tourist boat without sayinggoodbye. What was that about? Seemed a little odd. Cold. Especially after their last date a week or so ago, which had been a lot of fun ... yet she hadn’t heard from or seen him since. Until today.
Equally or maybe even more unsettling was Naki’s presence. She found him to be oddly magnetic, like she couldn’t stop herself from feeling drawn to him, aware of him. And his demeanor—so quiet, watchful, utterly unshakable.
The very opposite of Frankie’s personality. That boy was buzzing with excitement—his eyes followed Naki like he was a celebrity. Not that Frankie would ever admit that he was starstruck. Scout could tell, though. He kept trying to impress Naki with his knowledge of the island, as if shadowing Scout on a handful of Baker Island tours could match Naki’s life of living in Maine. Even now, on the walk to the Village Green to catch the bus to the chief’s office, he had practically Velcroed himself to Naki.
“So, Naki,” Frankie said, in a voice loud enough to echo off the stone walls, “ever been to Alaska? I have. Lots of times. My dad’s with the NPS, and we moved to a bunch of the parks. Ever climbed Denali? I have. I didn’t summit, but I got close. Someday, I’m going back to summit.”
Naki didn’t even break stride as Frankie chattered on like a schoolgirl. It was only when Frankie brought up where the gold from the ship might be hidden that Naki raised one hand, fingers extending in a way that was almost too deliberate to be casual. “Not here,” he said, raising a single eyebrow. That was all it took to shut Frankie down.
Frankie remained silent for the Island Explorer bus ride to the Hulls Cove Visitor Center. Didn’t that just beat all? Naki had a way about him that made Frankie’s awareness rise a bit.
When they reached Chief Ranger Rivers’s office, the door was ajar. Scout gave a light knock, but there was no answer. Shestepped inside to see the chief in his closet, swiping through park ranger coats as he hunted for something.
“Chief?” Scout said. “We’re back from the tour. Mr. Wabanaki Dana is with us.”
“Just ... call me Naki.”
She couldn’t bring herself to call him that. Too friendly, too intimate, too everything.
The chief spun around. His eyes darted nervously from Scout to Frankie to Naki and back to Scout. “Ah,” he said, trying to quickly recover. “Is it that time already?”
“Yes, sir,” Scout said.Odd.She’d never seen the chief look flustered.
“Have a seat. Let’s go over, uh, what we know so far.” He closed the office door as Scout and Naki sat in the two chairs that faced the desk. Frankie jumped up on the desk to sit, but Ranger Rivers swatted him off. With a sullen look, Frankie leaned against the door.
Scout’s cell phone dinged with a text message. Quickly, she reached down and put it on vibrate.
The chief leaned back in his chair. “So, what facts do we have?”
“The USSNorth Atlanticwas a merchant ship,” Naki said. “It originated out of Boston and was heading to Eastport, Maine, to pick up lumber.”
Frankie had inched closer to the desk. “Dude! How’d you find that out?”
The chief gave him a look of disgust. “Dude? Did you really just call the son of the chief of the Penobscot Nation a dude?”
Frankie’s eyes bulged. “SHUT UP. No WAY. You’re the son of a chief? That is SO dope.”
For once, Frankie wasn’t wrong. The son of the chief? No wonder Scout sensed such a ... what was the word? ...gravitasabout this man.
Her phone vibrated with another incoming text. Trying not to be obvious, she glanced at the sender’s ID.Mother!
Ranger Rivers turned to Scout and Naki. “What else?”
“Today, on the boat,” Scout said, “Mr. Dana pointed out where the shipwreck lies.”
Frankie pushed himself off the wall. “No WAY! You know where the shipwreck is? Aww, man! Why didn’t you loop me in?”
Ranger Rivers silenced him with a look, and Frankie backed up to resume his lean against the door.
