White Rock

By McKenzie Devlin

Working in a national park shouldn't be so complicated and stressful. Spectacular waterfalls, lush meadows, and pristine forest provide a setting like none other for two people unexpectedly attracted to each other. Kris Bay is a waitress for the main dining hall in Willow Camp. She has made her best effort to move forward from a toxic relationship with a co-worker. But the busy spring and summer season is just getting started at White Rock National Park. Strange attacks and employee behavior present major challenges. Adding to curiosity is the arrival of a new park ranger. A mysterious and abrasive man, hired to help with recent crime. During an era when budgets are tight, and a rogue head administrator makes critical errors, the patience and safety of everyone is tested. An inconvenient but passionate relationship has Kris wondering if things are as they seem, or if callous rumors about her new lover are true. Michael's distraction with Kris comes with a heavy price. And just when disappearances and attacks seem to fray the very last of everyone's nerves, further disaster complicates the situation. By the the end of it all, Kris will have to decide if the cost of staying at the park is worth the price of her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: McKenzie Devlin
• Release date: Oct 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311758118

McKenzie Devlin

A tormented soul cursed with the passion of writing. Let's hope you think I'm good at it. Whatever happened to curling up with a book you couldn't tear yourself away from in front of a roaring fire on a cold winter night? Or...a blazing hot summer day, toes in the sand and the kid with the family next to you won't stop screaming. Our lives are too distracted. No I'm not going to rant on the evils of screens. I think we have overflowed our daily lives with so much other crud we can't breath. Stop and read. If not my books, someone's. Cheers.

Book preview

White Rock

by

McKenzie Devlin

Copyright © 2015 McKenzie Devlin

e-Book Version 4.1

Print version also available.

ISBN: 9781311758118

This is the first book of the White Rock series.

Please look for A Dangerous Kind of Girl, the continuation of White Rock.

Unauthorized reproductions prohibited.

This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to events, people or places is purely coincidental.

~ ~ ~

From Chapter Nine...

Michael cupped her chin with a steady hand. Kris could barely see in the dark shadows of the room, for which she was thankful.

"If you really want me to go, say the word," he said in a low voice.

"No. Stay, I guess."

"Don't guess. Be sure. Be absolutely sure Kris," Michael breathed out heavily, perplexed why so much anxiety was coming forth.

"Old demons in my head." Kris forced an apologetic smile.

Michael lay still trying his best to keep the raging fire inside his body to a low burn.

"I'm not here to play games or hurt you." Unable to resist, he kissed her neck gently, deeply. Her inability to relax indicated it was too soon. Too much.

Chapter One

The Dining Hall

Kris Bay grabbed her hip with a cold, tired hand. The Rebellious One approached. There was no mistaking her high pitched humming and clackity-clack of non-uniform shoes.

Kris dragged herself to the waitress station and threw a stained rag into a barrel of other food soaked rags.

Is it time to go home yet? Raina bounced up along side the podium.

Not even close, Kris said and yawned. How many cups of coffee have you had today?

None.

I don't believe that.

Dale needs you, Raina said.

Kris blinked several times. Why me, when he has you?

'Cause, the black haired girl popped her gum loudly and smiled. Said I was annoying. 'Find something else to do.'

Where the devil is Adam?

Raina paused before bouncing her way down a dark hall leading to the ladies' room. Uhhh, oh – sick I guess. Something like that.

Something my foot, Kris muttered under her breath.

Adam wasn't sick, he was hung over. His only real illness was idiocy.

The lithesome female padded back to the main kitchen of the Willow Camp Dining Hall. Her hair had been piled high on her head early in the day but now half of it hung in limp strands. The last few hours were spent wiping down a sea of tables, straightening chairs, benches and picking cold spaghetti off the carpet. Lunch hour was brutal. Dinner promised to be worse. A few stragglers remained and Kris didn't possess the energy to boot them out.

Dale was the balding, tubby manager of the dining hall. Divorced from a Las Vegas showgirl and bitter about his crappy life, he kept his personal life mainly to himself. But he expected employees to do a hard day of work. If the effort wasn't shown, you wouldn't have a coveted job next season. Firing people in the beginning of the tourist season was painful, it meant other employees picking up the slack. Finding replacements that could be trained quickly was a challenge as well. Dale's patience with Adam Hoth was already on thin ice. If it were not for the connection between Kristjana and Adam, Adam would be sent packing his bags. But Dale had a soft spot in his heart for the tenuous Norweigen female, Kris.

"Kristjana.'' Dale leaned against the stainless steel counter. He spoke in a low, grumbling voice without making eye contact. He never called Kris by the shortened version of her name but by the name she gave on her original job application some four years ago.

"Sorry. I didn't realize Adam was gone. I'll stay.'' She wiped slender fingers on her apron, trying to peel off dried food.

"Now, we've discussed this. Many times,'' Dale said. Kris knew what came next. A thorny reminder of one of her biggest mistakes regarding her ex-boyfriend.

Dale, I just want to say -

Ms. Bay, I hired that slacker as a favor to you. Which I don't normally do. But I was willing to make that exception.

Yes, I know.

I'm sure you haven't forgotten. What I'm trying to say is that if he can't do his job, you're going to have to keep covering for him. Now, is that fair?

No, sir.

I suggest you have a talk with him. Otherwise I will. And it won't end well, Dale said.

Yes. Of course. I will talk to Adam first chance I get. Sorry he's so unreliable.

I don't want to hear you apologize, Kristjana. Having said his piece, Dale was now bent over, moving several boxes.

I'll get those crates moved, Kris offered quickly.

Dale straightened himself, and wiped his forehead with a rag from his pocket.

"Joseph is coming in later, about 6 o'clock. If you can stay until then.'' Dale turned and started for the back offices.

No damn problem, Kris uttered once he was out of ear shot.

The increased shift not only stung Kris, but tugged at a desperate desire for a scalding hot shower. The task of scrubbing and washing thickly greased pots, pans, and food caked dishes was unfathomable at the moment. That duty fell on her booze loving, ex-boyfriend, Adam. Three long months ago Adam approached Kris, desperate for work and unsuccessful at employment in the sluggish economy. With Adam's persistent nagging and emotional persuasion, Kris finally obliged his pathetic effort and went to Dale to ask a favor. Dale had been reluctant to give Adam a job in the park, mostly because he was not going through the usual application process.

A dull ache in her stomach rumbled to life. It was going to be a long evening.

A flash of light. Crashing and more thunder. Kris took a shallow breath of greasy, humid air and grabbed a pair of dish gloves off the counter.

A brilliant light illuminated the dark lodge hall momentarily. Seconds following, the sky let out a deep thunderous crash. Trailing immediately behind the ruckus were several more clashes of thunder. Clinking dinnerware and low voices drifted around the historic Willow Camp Dining Hall.

Springtime was stubborn in its arrival. The cold, quietness of winter was a memory. Currently a series of unstable storms flirted with the region. Streams raged, swollen with icy water from high country snow melt. Vast meadows blanketed in a sea of pink and purple wildflowers gave way to thick grass swaying in the playful breezes of springtime.

The Camp sat in the middle valley of White Rock National Park. Sekonee Lodge and the lower valley camps were the other major developed sections of the park. The deep valley carved out by glaciers thousands of years ago was a popular destination. In the wake of the park's formation were thick meadows, pine forests, a cold, winding river and large granite spires, seemingly leading to the roof of the sky.

Willow Camp was named after the striking thin, red- barked willow trees that gathered near abundant water sources in the area. Streams and creeks trickled through little developed villages and camps. Short rounded bridges spanned over the gushing Kwoluck River.

Immense crowds flocked to White Rock National Park during the months of May through September. Willow Camp, being a favorite lodging destination was especially busy. Mobs of families trampled sensitive soil, prevented native plants and grasses from regrowth, left food and trash behind, providing a large attraction to black bears. Willow Camp also sat at the base of some sheer granite cliffs, jutting thousands of feet skyward. Occasionally these rock formations gave way and massive pieces would break off plummeting to the valley floor. On days such as this, one couldn't be sure if the clash and boom outside was just the thunder or rather some rocks falling, flattening everything in their path.

Constructed in the 1940's, the Willow Camp dining hall maintained a rustic lodge atmosphere. Huge wood beams supported a high vaulted ceiling. Large windows let in soft beams of light from the forest outside. Heavy redwood doors opened into a campy, dark foyer. The hostess station greeted incoming patrons, inviting them to seat themselves. During breakfast and lunch, food was offered cafeteria style. Dinner was a bit more formal, and menus with a limited but delicious choice of dishes was available.

Chapter Two

The dinner hour was especially busy. With the continued thunderstorms and heavy downpours, visitors were seeking shelter inside. The Willow Creek lodge contained a floor-to-ceiling natural stone fireplace in the center. On this dark evening, the fire was crackling and popping eating away large pieces of wood.

Kristjana rinsed off a huge pot with worn black handles. Random thoughts danced sporadically in her mind. Walking back in the rain, the cold dampness of her cabin, and dealing with Adam later on. Dull pains grabbed her lower back. Her hair, once was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, started to break free and fall into her face. Mousy strands of stray hair stuck to the sides of her damp skin.

The lights flickered overhead. Gasps and sighs resonated from the main hall. Kris struggled to think hard, but couldn't recall if she'd placed a small flashlight in her day bag. It wasn't crucial, but a nice comfort to have the little luminary.

Massive wrought iron chandeliers dropped from high above in the hall. Once used only with wax burning candles, they were modernized and wired for regular incandescent light bulbs. The original round holders for candles remained. It required a tall ladder and precarious positioning to reach up and light candles, yet was accomplished during times when power failed. Electricity to the park came in through the Mather canyon on huge lines. Outages were common during storms, but park staff was usually equipped to deal with any ordeal. Commonly, loss of power was a minor annoyance to staff and employees, but a great significance to visitors. Music players, cell phones, even hair irons were necessities, even on vacation.

"Kris! What's shakin' babeee?! Is this fun or what?!'' The energetic voice of Joseph, the head washer, abruptly entered the kitchen.

My God Joseph.'' Kris dropped a big pan in the sink and shot him a slightly annoyed look. Aren't you the bearer of glad tidings.''

How's my favorite little Norwegian?'' He smiled a toothy grin and grabbed Kristjana around the waist tightly for a fleeting moment before shedding his rain soaked jacket. Your knight in shining armor is here!''

"Thanks for getting me wet.'' Kris brushed back hair that had fallen into her face.

Uh, if you haven't noticed,'' Joseph pretended to look astonished and held out his arms, displaying soaked clothing, It's still rainin'. Flooding is next,'' he happily smiled and disappeared around the back storage area.

Early spring flooding was common. The high country was emptying a vast amount of accumulated snow over the long winter months. And with increased precipitation from the spring storms, it was a recipe for over flowing river banks and feeder streams.

Joseph reappeared, humming some familiar country song. A white apron was tightly wrapped around his body and he busied himself with straightening up boxes and other kitchen hazards. Kris glanced at the clock. It was past six and as far as she was concerned, lodge duty was over for the day. Residual steam brushed past her face from the deep stainless steel sink. She gave a last squeeze to several sponges and plopped them on the counter. With wrinkled fingers she wrestled with the apron ties around her backside.

"I'm out of here. Have a good night Joe,'' Kris said.

"Be careful. See ya tomorrow.'' He smiled then got to work on a stack of new dishes brought in by the servers.

Kris nodded and muttered something unintelligible. Grabbing her purple day pack, she fumbled aimlessly for her flashlight. Oh well. It would make for an interesting walk home.

Chapter Three

Raindrops quietly fell. A few plops hit broad leaves, rolled off and made damp spots on the ground. Kristjana tread along a cracked asphalt trail, lined with large trees and occasional light poles illuminating the damp path. Her hands were shoved deep in her rain coat pockets, and water dripped off the large hood obstructing her view. Few people remained outdoors to brave the damp, unfriendly weather.

Finally, Kristjana entered a section where the main path veered toward the big meadow and board walks. Without pausing, she steered to the right and on ahead, stepping into sticky mud and thick wet pine shoots. A low rush of water from a nearby feeder stream danced in a jagged, rock lined river bed. Over a short foot bridge, she trampled softly on. Thick mud was beginning to accumulate on her hiking shoes. Soon, she entered the edge of the staff camp. Old wood cabins were spaced in rows each with a set of steps and small porch. Some of the original cabins from the 1940's remained, others were reconstructed and a few were added on in past decades due to the increased need for employee housing.

Kris's cabin was number 17 the last on a long row, nestled up against some thick pines. She was lucky not to share a bunk and therefore enjoyed the dwelling to herself. Some workers preferred to share, some did not. The stone shower building was situated in the center of the camp and many employees left their bikes at the designated racks. In recent seasons, thefts had been slowly an unwelcome misfortune. With a deep recession, many people speculated that the burglaries and increased crime was just another bad sign of the times. Returning staff suspected an inside job. Newly hired employees were the first to be suspect, especially if they refrained from assimilating with others.

A thick damp mist hung over the camp. Dimly glowing lamps on the cabins gave off a misty orange glow. Kristjana pushed back her rain hood to gain a clearer view. Approaching a sloping wood fence, she clicked off the buckle on the waist belt of her backpack. From an uncertain distance behind her shivering body crept the sudden white beams of headlights. Squinting, Kris pushed her hood all the way back and peered towards the oncoming car. Hoping it wasn't Adam, her pulse intensified. Suddenly Kris found it hard to slow her breathing. The deep rattling hum of a Dodge diesel engine broke the eerie silence of the forest. Heavy, wet tires crackling on the dirt came closer to the side of the walkway. Kris wiped her nose on her sleeve and paused to see who it was. Many of the park rangers patrolled the staff quarters during the night, but so did tourists, and people looking for trouble.

Kris remained still, heart still irregularly pounding inside her chest. It was one of the bigger Dodge trucks, white body paint with the White Rock National Park logo in green and yellow on the door. Large search lights jutted out from either side and the unmistakable rack of emergency vehicle lights adorned the top of the cab. Kris narrowed her eyes in the painful brightness. She moved to the passenger side window, figuring a familiar face would soon appear.

"How's it going this evening?'' a deep, curious voice resonated from the cab.

Kris stopped and did not approach the truck side any further.

"Hello?'' She did not recognize the male voice.

The growling engine came to a stop and headlamps dimmed. Kris could make out a strong male presence sitting in the driver's position with the typical dark green uniform attire of a park ranger.

"How are you doing tonight?'' He flicked on an overhead light.

She did not recognize this man at all. A tight knit community, it was common for park staff to be familiar with each other. Every week, meetings were required and very often rangers constructed the main gathering to inform the lower park staff of new developments, procedures, news or any new issues of concern. Kris assumed that because of the uprise in crime, additional law enforcement had been hired.

She took a step forward and lay her hand on the retracted passenger side window.

"Oh I'm fine.''

"Do you live here?'' He grabbed a large radio fastened to the front of the dashboard.

Oh, yes. I work at Willow.'' Kris understood his question now. Typical investigatory protocol. Just trying to get home.''

Michael Falkenrath vaguely smiled, nodding. The volume on his park radio was turned low, but part of his attention was keyed by bits of communication coming in. The girl appeared tired and cold and he meant not to keep her any longer.

"Okay, I just needed to check. As you probably know, there's been a rise in crime around here.''

Kris backed up, twisting a lock of her hair.

The ranger put the radio up to his mouth, speaking in a rather monotone voice. "Southeast corner clear.''

"Nice to know we have real security now,'' Kris uttered under her breath. She was mildly interested in this new rugged male. Her unofficial duty would be delivering a detailed report to Raina in the morning.

He reached across the cab, extending his hand. As Kris met his polite but firm grasp, the intoxicating warmth of the truck cab rushed over her.

Michael. Nice to meet you. The touch of her icy cold hand suddenly woke him to the realization he was painfully delaying her walk home. Temperatures were cooling and cold drizzle fell.

"Can I give you ride?'' It was the least he could do, fearing she would break apart from shivering.

"No. Thanks though. Nice to meet you. I need to get going.'' Kris yanked her hood over her soaked hair and slowly took some steps backward. He was definitively new. And quite handsome. The girls were going to go crazy over this one.

The Dodge engine roared to life as Kris walked away in the mud. Michael drove around the small soggy loop and accelerated back out to the main road. Kris glanced behind momentarily. He wasn't like the other rangers. Interesting. But not interesting enough to sustain her thoughts. Stepping up her sluggish pace, she quickly headed down a long row of cabins. Rainwater was now pouring off the roofs and creating huge puddles and makeshift streams. Kristjana reached number 17 and trudged up the worn steps. Fumbling for wet keys she jammed the correct one into the lock. Before entering, she managed to kick off her wet and muddy shoes leaving them on the porch.

~ ~ ~

The spring storm wore on during the night. Kris woke the next morning, eyes swollen and late for work. Despite not getting the shower she yearned greatly for, she attempted to freshen up. Soaking a small rag with water from a bottle, she vigorously rubbed around her neck, and shoulders. The cabin was damp and cold. In a rush to walk back to the lodge hall, she avoided heating the small space. The time it would take to start a little fire in the wood stove wasn't worth the effort. Warmth was a luxury she didn't have that morning.

Kris grasped the back of her blond hair, gathering it up hastily. Twisting the matted hair, Kris managed a loose bun and clipped it into place. Her tresses were much too unruly to smooth into a nice, sleek pony tail. Irritation rose up. Annoyed that she woke late, resentful that she covered Adam's shift and embarrassed that she felt dirty and unkempt.

At the forefront of her mind were the painful memories and mistakes of her relationship with Adam Hoth. Such negative thoughts were giving her a stomach ache on top of hunger.

Memories were faded but not forgotten of Adam and sun drenched hikes in the high Sierra. Backpacking trips to secluded lakes, late nights in front of roaring campfires. Passionate interludes when the moment seemed right, which was all the time with him. The red flags would pop up later. Now all Adam cared about was clenching onto any remaining feelings Kris still harbored. His driving force was keeping an evil eye out for other males entranced by the inexplicable raw beauty of her. Kristjana's pale features and sharp Norwegian genes were not ever overshadowed by her introverted mysterious nature. Her piercing large blue eyes were not forgotten by those caught in an unexpected encounter. While her striking features stood out, she did not wield them or consider herself extraordinary.

Adam was a rare soul, once able to break down the cemented barriers of Kristjana's inhibitions and shyness. Underneath the layers of Kris's reservedness was a spirit of independence and curiosity. Even with Adam's persistence, Kris emotionally disconnected from him. She withdrew slowly at first and then rapidly as their relationship deteriorated. Over the course of the past year, Kris kept a careful distance, but subconsciously still understood, strangely, that Adam had a psychological grasp on her. He knew her in ways that nobody else did. The shared passionate times and emotionally sensitive connectivity with him lingered. Adam desperately did not want to let go of his prize. Kristjana failed as well letting go of their past.

Shoving cold feet into mud caked hiking boots on the top step of her entry way, Kris gingerly waved to a fellow employee at the cabin across from her. Four of them resided in unit 16 as happily crammed party goers. The camp was their playground. Most of them young, carefree and reckless. Loud music was commonplace. Kris attended a few gatherings, but usually opted for a quiet night alone with a used book and old quilt. She was the granny of the camp.

Plodding down old wood steps, still damp with rainwater and mud, Kris flung the backpack over her left shoulder and started off. Rain was lightly falling, although breaks in the dark clouds lent to peaking blue sky. Perhaps the weather would clear later in the day.

Kristjana paused in her passage down the worn asphalt trail. It was customary to deviate at this point and knock on Adam's door at cabin 11. Many occasions he was laying in wait on the steps, smoking a cigarette. Smiling ever so cockily, he would escort her to the lodge hall to work most mornings. In recent weeks, Kristjana hopped over the low wood fence and cut across open dirt and destroyed meadows to reach Willow Camp. In light of her avoidance, Adam pretended not to notice her escapes through the woods. Instead, he would stake out the women's showers or the back entrance of the lodge to catch Kris when she would least expect him.

There was no sign of Adam this cold morning. Abrasive thoughts of Adam's work avoidance raced through Kris's mind. Against her better judgment she abruptly turned and tiptoed up the steps hoping irrationally he was already gone. The moment she reached the top step, the door swung open, banging against something hard inside. Adam stood on the interior, disheveled a bit, an unlit cigarette hanging in the crooked smile of his mouth. A worn leather boot was on one foot, while an unlaced boot adorned the other.

"Hey baby. Woo, you are a sight for my sore eyes.'' Adam quickly finished lacing his boot and grabbed a set of keys. He spoke out of one side of his mouth, a lit cigarette dangled from the other. Kris gingerly stepped back down the steps as the familiarity of regret washed over her.

Slamming the wood door hard, Adam swung around, blowing out a large puff of smoke. He stared longingly down at Kris at the bottom of the steps.

"Adam. I need to talk to you.''

What's up?'' Happily he trounced down the steps in boyish fashion. Bad morning, my love?''

No. Why? Kris was so cross she couldn't look directly at him.

Darling, look who you're talking to.

Adam, Dale is really upset with you. I think he's getting quite close to firing you. Kris promised she would have yet another talk, and figured it better get done before work started.

So? Let him.

Let him? Adam would you get serious for a moment? Just a moment? If you lose your job, you can't live here. You'll be homeless.

Taking a hard puff on his cigarette, Adam slid his arm around her side and pulled her close.

Leibling, when will you get it? I can survive anywhere. If he fires me, then you can quit too and we can just take the van and head off on a trip for a few months. Go anywhere we like.

No chance of that. Adam, unlike you, I actually enjoy living here. My job is in jeopardy because of you and your stupid drinking, Kris scoffed at him.

Oh, here we go again.

Yes, here we go again, Adam. You're not fooling a damn person in this park with your hang overs and calling in sick. We're not that dumb.

Yeah right.

Right. This is going nowhere. Big surprise.

"And just where do you think you're going?'' He squinted, flicking the ashes off the end of the cigarette.

"I'm going to my job, Adam. I'm not really in the mood to play and apparently you are.'' She jostled to get away from him, but his cold hand penetrated through her fleece top, as if a dull knife bore into her side.

"Don't start. Don't,'' Kris said.

Adam took one last long draw on his cigarette, letting the smoke toil out through his clenched teeth. Tossing the butt to the dirt he slid his free hand around the back of Kristjana's head. Pulling her worried expression into his swollen facial gaze of foolish enjoyment, he brought his stale lips close to hers. Kris writhed with hot irritation and resentment. The familiar sparks of physical attachment produced a rush of confusion momentarily but his arctic touch quenched any old desire.

"Get the fuck off.'' Kris pushed at him.

I'm sure Boss can wait.'' Forcibly grabbing the front of her attire, he yanked it up, touching the soft familiar skin beneath. Looking down at her exposed belly, Adam's tone became serious. Shit, babe, I want you.''

"Stop it. Everyone is going to see.'' Trying to break free, Kris jerked her head back and made a fist with her left hand. Reacting quickly she rammed her hand into the side of his rib cage.

"Ow! Ooo, babe, that hurt,'' Adam let out a moderate yelp, surprised.

Kris broke out of his serpent embrace and stumbled backward, barely retaining balance. Thick mud oozed up around the edges of her boots.

"You best stay far away from me today. '' Concerned