Fire in the Stars by Barbara Fradkin Read Free Book Online Page B

argument she had witnessed between Jason and Chris in the truck. Amanda stood up. “This makes it even worse, Chris. Everything Phil believed in, everything he hung on to, has been turned upside down.”
    She walked over to the large map of Newfoundland tacked to the office wall. “I’ve got to find him. Where would he go?”
    No sooner had the question left her lips than her eyes settled on the remote, northern section of the island. A desolate finger where villages were few and far between, and where the North Atlantic, the Arctic, and the inner Strait of Belle Isle collided. The end of the earth. She tapped the peninsula with her finger.
    He followed her finger. “Yes. I think you may be right.”

Chapter Five
    A manda wanted to set off right away, for it was a huge area to cover, encompassing the twin UNESCO world heritage sites of Gros Morne and L’Anse aux Meadows where the Vikings had settled, as well as numerous fishing villages in between. From the map she could identify at least six government campsites, but there were surely smaller local ones tucked near the coastal villages. Phil had already had far too great a head start.
    But Chris Tymko’s pragmatism prevailed. “It’s a big place,” he said. “And much of the interior mountain range has no road access. If Phil is looking to get away from it all, he could be on foot in the mountains or in a boat on the ocean.”
    â€œHe’s not much good on the ocean. Prairie boy like you said.”
    He didn’t smile. “In his mood, that might not stop him. If he’s looking for freedom, or oblivion …”
    Sobering, she studied the map. There was only one road running north up the coast, dipping in and out of the fishing villages along the way. In each village, there might be boats available to rent. If Phil were trying to disappear, he would not choose an obvious path.
    â€œAre there little roads leading up into these mountains?”
    Chris was at his computer, fiddling with the keys. He glanced over briefly. “Just a few old logging trails. There’s not much up there but moose and trees. Oh, some salmon rivers and logging camps, mostly abandoned.” He swore softly at the computer. “Jason hasn’t even put out an alert on Phil’s licence plate.”
    She grimaced. “Part of his low-key approach. To spare himself.”
    â€œRight. I’m going to give it to the local detachments up there. The more eyes we have on this, the better.”
    She thanked him and headed toward the door. “I’ve got all my gear. All I need are some groceries and a good map —”
    â€œForestry maps. Much more detailed. I’ll print them out for you here.” He was already tapping on his computer again. “You’ve got a good smart phone and a GPS?”
    She nodded. “My cellphone has a GPS. I’m not going into the real wilderness, am I? There are people around? Villages, fishing boats?”
    â€œThe people will help you, yes. But you’ll need a satellite GPS. Cellphones can be useless, and one fishing village looks pretty much like another, at least to this Prairie boy. Nothing but boats, pickup trucks, and lobster traps.”
    She laughed. As he typed and the printer hummed, she studied the wall map. Newfoundland had essentially one highway, the Trans-Canada, running across it from Port aux Basques in the west to St. John’s in the east, with local and community roads branching off like ribs from its long, curved spine. Deer Lake not only served as the gateway to Gros Morne National Park, but also as the juncture where the main road heading north up the peninsula forked off from the Trans-Canada. The first major campgrounds in the park itself were near the town of Rocky Harbour.
    Chris saw her tracing the route with her finger. “Rocky Harbour’s the main tourist hub for the park,” he said. “That and St. Anthony’s at