Uh-oh. Were they late? Alice couldn’t really afford to get on Kehoe’s bad side, although she constantly felt like she was scrambling not to land there with a resounding thud. Kehoe was a long-time Durand executive. He was the top boss here—at least he was when Dylan wasn’t around. It was generally acknowledged, even grudgingly by Dylan himself, that Camp Durand was Kehoe’s baby and had been for as long as most people’s memories went. Camp Durand was held up as a model example of Durand Enterprises’ strong community and philanthropic ideals as well as being an innovative, fresh practice for finding the best of the best young executives in the world. Kehoe certainly held court at Camp Durand like some kind of village potentate. Which was unfortunate, because Alice couldn’t rid herself of the uneasy feeling that Kehoe didn’t like her at all. She thought it might have something to do with the fact that Dylan hired her, when Kehoe usually did all the hiring for the elite group of counselors and future Durand executives. On a more worrisome note, she dreaded that Kehoe suspected something was going on between Dylan and her, and didn’t like that fact at all.
She and Kuvi approached Kehoe while the other kids spread out in the clearing, talking among themselves.
“Hello, ladies. May I have your assignments for your zip line pair-ups?” Kehoe asked Alice and Kuvi briskly. Alice’s stomach dropped. Kuvi reached into her backpack and retrieved several pieces of paper. She handed them to Kehoe.
“Alice?” Kehoe asked unsmilingly, glancing up and peering at her through a pair of preppy black-rimmed glasses. Everything about Kehoe was neat, his appearance as exacting as his manner. Even in his camp sportswear, Kehoe was meticulously groomed. He was trim and sinewy, his athletic build making him look much younger than a man in his fifties. “Your assignments, please?”
“I, uh . . . I forgot to type them out,” she said in a rush. “But I know all of my pair-ups by heart. I put a lot of effort into it.”
“But not enough thought to give me the paperwork I asked for. I wasn’t just asking for the names and teams, Alice. I wanted your rational for how you paired up the kids. The zip line is a significant challenge for a lot of our new campers, and a few of the older ones as well. It’s important that we put some planning into how we’re going to comfort and empower them for what could potentially be an anxiety-provoking activity,” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry. I can type up my list this evening,” Alice said, humiliated. How could she have forgotten? It wasn’t like her. It’d been a crazy past few days. Was she a lot more preoccupied and distracted by the news about Addie Durand than she realized or cared to admit? Maybe Dylan was right to be so concerned about her mental state.
“We don’t approach a potentially dangerous challenge like this in a careless or thoughtless fashion,” Kehoe said.
Rebellious anger spiked through her embarrassment and irritation at herself. True, she’d screwed up, but it wasn’t because she was thoughtless. Having been terrified at the mere idea of zooming across the top of the forest while suspended from a skinny little wire, Alice had put significant planning into how she’d match up her kids to empower them for the challenge. During her own training, all Kehoe had done to alleviate her blind panic over completing the activity was match her up with a useless Brooke Seifert. All Brooke had done was simper saccharine platitudes for her safety, and even escalated Alice’s anxiety by tricking her to look down at the forest floor, mounting her vertigo until she’d been mindless with fear by the time she flew off the platform.
Some help Kehoe had been.
Although the truth was, Alice had never confessed to the fact that she was scared shitless of heights to Kehoe, allowing him or anyone else the opportunity to comfort her during the experience. Alice didn’t speak of her weaknesses easily, let alone babble on about them to a man like Kehoe.
“I know it’s important. I messed up,” Alice admitted stoically, looking Kehoe square in the eye. “I’m really sorry. Like I said, I have put a lot of thought into my team’s pair-ups. I can name them easily. I can give you the rationale for my pair-ups right now—”
“I don’t have the time to listen to an oral report. I want the typed list and your rationale first thing after dinner tonight,” Kehoe interrupted sharply. He made a rapid note, his writing so pressured it looked like his ballpoint might drill all the way through the multiple sheets of paper to the clipboard itself. He turned and stalked a short distance away, calling out to gather the scattered, chatting teenagers. Alice glanced at Kuvi abashedly.
“It’s okay,” Kuvi whispered hearteningly. “It was a little thing, comparatively. Gina Sayre forgot that anti-bullying workshop agenda we had to do, plus lost track of Mark Drayner and Shayna Crawniac during the kayaking activity she led. Kehoe was furious when he found the pair of them tied up to shore and going at it in Martyr’s Cove, both of them half-naked.”
Alice smirked. “We should rename it Sinner’s Cove.”
“I should have reminded you. I know how distracted you’ve seemed lately.”
“It’s not your responsibility,” Alice muttered, frowning.
She really needed to pull it together. It sucked, having Kehoe lecture her like that. Until now, his disapproval of her had remained vague and difficult to pin down. Alice’s team was top in points, and she’d avoided making a major mistake so far, despite the fact that either Kehoe or one of his manager minions was watching them like hawks. She’d clearly just received her first black mark in Kehoe’s meticulous notes, however.
Thankfully, Kehoe only stayed with their group long enough to assign them a Durand manager before he walked off rapidly through the forest in the direction of the next zip line platform. He was obviously intent on gathering more documentation of counselor s
crewups, Alice thought darkly. Only nine of the fifteen counselors would be selected to become a Durand executive, after all. Kehoe had to find rationale for making cuts somewhere. Alice feared she’d just conveniently gifted him with a nice sharp knife.
THE challenge itself went as smoothly as could be expected. There was only one rough patch—when Judith Arnold, a pretty, stubborn, talented seventeen-year-old whom Alice had just recently made the student team leader, called Alice out in front of all of the Red Team.
“What do you mean I’m paired up with Noble D?” Judith demanded when Alice called out the pair assignments. “I should be with Jill!”
Here we go, Alice thought.
She’d wondered how long her and Judith’s relative peace would last. Despite the fact that Judith had been rude and insolent toward Alice since the moment she’d arrived at camp, she had also demonstrated true strength and compassion at times with the other campers. Alice had made the decision just days ago to challenge the girl with the team leader position. Judith was smart and strong. Alice’s instincts told her that Judith could lead her peers effectively. She’d been feeling cautiously optimistic about her risky Judith selection. The first days of Judith’s reign had been relatively conflict free. Alice had even shared a couple nice moments with the girl at the bonfire last night when the Red Team had been declared top in points. Things had been looking up.
Until now, anyway.
“Jill is with Terrance,” Alice said, picking up her backpack and flinging it over her shoulder. “Terrance is an expert. He did the zip line at a church retreat,” she said, referring to the custom by which Camp Durand tried to match up campers with experience at a task—“experts”—with the uninitiated “novices.”
“When he was twelve years old and nearly two hundred pounds lighter,” Judith snapped.
Alice noticed Terrance’s head jerk around at Judith’s scornful exclamation.
“Shut it, Judith,” Alice ground out furiously under her breath.
Judith’s eyes flashed in mixed anger and regret. Her chin went up defiantly. “Jill will be scared shitless without me being there with her. You know that,” she hissed tensely. Judith had taken on the role of protector and defender of the vulnerable girl since the first day of camp. Alice was thankful for it. But she thought maybe it was time for Jill to move out of Judith’s tall shadow and begin to experience her own strength.