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“There are mugs in the cupboard,” Je
Matt crossed to the sideboard and removed three earthenware cups. He straightened and stared around the great room, raftered with logs overhead. Nothing much had changed. The main room of the cabin was lit with three traditional qulliq oil lamps, half-moons of hollow soapstone. The cabin had electricity, but that required ru
Each item had history. It was hard standing here. Tragedy seemed to follow him. During his first year at the University of Te
He came here to be alone.
But that changed when he met Je
With mugs in hand, Matt stood transfixed between the past and the present. Off the main room were two bedchambers. He turned away, not ready to brush against those more intimate memories. Still, some reached out and touched him.
In one room…reading Wi
In the other…curled under heavy goose-down quilts with Je
“Coffee’s ready,” Je
Matt set the mugs on the knotty-pine table.
She filled them. “Tell me what happened.” Her voice was emotionless, professional, a sheriff’s voice.
Craig began, telling his side of the story. He related all that had transpired since he left his Seattle newspaper office. He finished with the harrowing plunge in the plane.
“Sabotage?” Je
Matt nodded. “I suspected as much. Then this second plane appeared.” He gave her the call signs painted on the plane, but he wagered either the aircraft would be discovered stolen or the call signs were bogus. He told her as much. “As it circled, two commandos dove from the plane with ice choppers and rifles. They clearly didn’t want to leave anyone behind to tell tales.”
Je
Matt detailed the fate of the two assassins as plainly as possible. She unfolded a topographic map of the area, and he marked down the plane crash site and roughly where the bodies of the two men could be found.
“I’ll need to call into Fairbanks for this,” she said as he finished.
“And I need to contact my newspaper,” Craig added, perking up with a jolt of Je
Je
Craig took his mug of coffee with him. “How do I use it?”
“Just dial like you would any other phone. You might get a bit more static due to the recent solar storms. They’ve been fritzing everything lately.”
Craig nodded and sat at the desk. He picked up the receiver.
Je
He joined her, leaning a hand on the hearth’s mantel. “Clearly someone wants to keep the newspapers away from the drift station.”
“A cover-up?”
“I don’t know.”
In the background, Craig spoke into the phone. “Sandra, this is Teague. Co
Matt imagined the reporter already had more story than he’d expected when he left Seattle.
Je
Matt eyed Craig. “I doubt it. I think he just ended up here because he pulled the short straw.”
“And these commandos…you’re sure they were military?”
“Military background, at least.” Matt recognized the tension building in Je
He couldn’t blame her. He didn’t deserve any better. Still, he wanted to find some way past this u
He studied a single framed picture of Tyler on the mantel: smiling, towheaded, a pup in his arms, Bane, then eight weeks old. Matt’s heart clenched with joy and grief. He allowed himself to feel the emotion. He had long given up trying to drown it away. It still hurt…and in many ways, that was a good thing.
Je
He took a deep breath to keep the pain out of his voice and stepped away from the fireplace. “I don’t know.” He rubbed his brow with a knuckle. “They might have been foreign nationals.”
“Why do you say that?”
“They never spoke a word within earshot. In retrospect, it was like they were purposefully keeping silent, hiding their origin. Like they had done with their weapons.”
“Could they be hired mercenaries?”
He shrugged. He had no idea.
“So far we don’t have much to go on.” Her gaze grew long as she began to plan. “We’ll get forensics up there and see what they can dig up. But something tells me the real answers are going to be found over at the polar base. And if so, the FBI will need to be called in…and military intelligence if the Navy is somehow tied in with all this. What a mess…”
He nodded. “A mess someone wanted to clear up at the end of a rifle barrel.”
She glanced to him. It looked like she wanted to say something, but then thought better of it.
Matt took a deep breath. “Je
Craig had been conversing in low tones, but his voice grew suddenly louder. “Prudhoe Bay, why?”
Je
“I don’t see why I have to—” A long pause. “Fine, but I’m with a sheriff now. I can’t promise I’ll be able to get there.” Craig rolled his eyes and shook his head. Finally, he sighed and spoke. “I expect a big-ass raise after this, goddamn it.” He shoved the phone down.
“What’s wrong?” Matt asked.
Craig blustered for a moment, then collected himself. “They want me to stay here. Can you believe that? I’m supposed to meet with the paper’s contact at Prudhoe and follow up on events. See if they’re somehow co
Je
“That’s fine by me,” he groused.
Je
Before she could dial, the door to the cabin swung open. Her father stomped in, knocking snow off his boots. “Seems like we’re going to get more unexpected visitors.” He glared over at Matt. “Looks like a plane might be trying to land here.”