Silent Hunter

Edge of Survival

Trapped on a deserted island and targeted by a deadly hunter, camp director Nicky Trailer must turn to the one man she vowed never to forgive. Luke Wolf abandoned her without a word years ago and crushed her girlhood dreams. When he suddenly returns to help her save her beloved summer camp, she doesn’t want to forgive and forget. But with the mysterious hunter picking off campers one by one, Luke is the only one who can help her get off the island. With danger stalking their every move, can Luke and Nicky move beyond their past and work together to survive?

Was it a calling card…or a warning?

“This arrow is exactly like the one you found yesterday,” Luke told her.

A painful breath filled her lungs. The Hunter was back. While she’d been showing the sponsors around the island, the same man who’d held a knife to her throat twenty-four hours ago had shot an arrow into the wreckage of the obstacle course that nearly drowned them.

“So he’s still here on the island, and he’s toying with us.” For a moment she felt so helpless that hot tears rushed to her eyes. Luke spread his arms wide and she stepped between them, looking for their comforting strength.

“So, the Hunter came back after stealing our boat yesterday?” she asked.

“Or he might be one of the four people back at the campsite right now,” Luke said.

Something rustled in the forest behind them. They both spun sharply. She searched the tree line. She heard nothing but the whispers of trees in the breeze. The Hunter could be anywhere. Silent. Deadly. Now she knew: nowhere was safe.

MAGGIE K. BLACK is an award-winning journalist and romantic suspense author with an insatiable love of traveling the world. She has lived in the American South, Europe and the Middle East. She now makes her home in Canada with her history teacher husband, their two beautiful girls and a small but mighty dog. Maggie enjoys connecting with her readers at maggiekblack.com.

Silent Hunter

Maggie K. Black

This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones:

I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life.

—Ezekiel 37:5

With thanks to all the amazing friends and camp staff who helped me brainstorm for this book.

I couldn’t have done it without you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Worn wooden rungs creaked loudly under Nicky Trailer’s boots. The ladder quivered as she climbed. She was a good twenty feet up in the air, smack-dab in the middle of Camp Spirit’s main lodge, halfway between the old wooden floors and steeply slanted ceiling. The camp director’s hazel eyes glanced up at the ceiling hatch high above her head. When she’d decided to store years’ worth of paperwork up inside the claustrophobic crawlspace, she hadn’t expected the camp’s owner would ever send her on such a short-notice scavenger hunt. Especially not because he’d invited a reporter to the camp without telling her. “This still feels like a terrible idea.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, the loft’s only three stories up, and here I seem to remember a certain tomboy in pigtails once being the youngest girl in camp history to conquer the high ropes.” George Dale’s warm chuckle echoed up the A-framed walls.

“That’s not what I—” The words froze on her tongue as she caught the twinkle in the old man’s eyes. Her elderly boss was teasing. As always. Apparently he wasn’t the slightest bit worried about having some journalist poking around the day before she led the most important canoe trip of her life. So why was she?

“I was the youngest camper period, and don’t you forget it.” Nikki flashed a grin and tucked an unruly curl of long brown hair firmly back under her bandanna. “You’re not getting out of discussing this reporter thing that easily. Though if I’d realized the loft ladder had gotten this creaky, I’d have added a new one of those to my wish list, too.”

Right behind patching the roof, better sports equipment and rebuilding the boathouse. There were two months until summer camp and the list of things needing repair was growing longer by the day. Her gaze ran through towering glass windows, past the cabins, down to where the morning sun set rays of light dancing on the lake. She’d spent almost twenty years among these Ontario trees—first as camper, then counselor and now as George’s second in command. Nicky ran Camp Spirit’s summer and off-season camps, while George managed the business side. It was a great partnership that felt more like family than owner and employee.

If only our days weren’t numbered. It was only a question of whether money troubles or George’s failing health sank Camp Spirit first. His tendency to take on the neediest campers regardless of their ability to pay didn’t leave much left over for new equipment and repairs. And while George’s only son, Trevor, worked there occasionally, it was clear the young man would rather sell than fill his father’s shoes.