Tundra Threat (10 page)

“You’ve heard me talk about Captain Richmond. My boss. Right?”

“Yeah?” Feeling her patience, what little there had been to start with, waning, she was about to tell Luke to get on with it when she really thought about what he’d said. “Wait, Richmond? Are they related?”

“He’s her dad. Trust me. She’ll be well protected.”

McKenna took a minute to absorb that information. It did explain a lot, like the fact that Anna hadn’t been too fazed by the danger McKenna had worried she’d bring to her house. It also explained why Anna would have thought to invite McKenna on the midnight trip to the beach crime scene because it had looked as if it might be tied to her case.

“Oh,” she finally said, nodding, wishing she didn’t feel as though she’d suddenly lost all ability to speak.

“So she’ll be fine,” Luke finished, shaking his head. “That’s weird she didn’t say anything to you about it.”

“I guess I did know her dad was in law enforcement somehow. Matt mentioned it once.”

McKenna wasn’t sure why it bothered her that she hadn’t known. Maybe because she and Anna had been becoming better friends and it just seemed like the kind of information to share with a friend who was in the same line of work. But there was no need to dwell on that now. It really
wasn’t
her business.

“That text message is important, though.”

McKenna looked up at Luke, who’d spoken. “You said Anna’s safe. Obviously we know he’s threatening me. Now we know he has her phone.... What else?”

“Pull it up and look again.”

She did so.
Your roommate learned her lesson about keeping her mouth shut. Next time, it’s your turn.

“...keeping her mouth shut,” she spoke aloud, adrenaline beginning to course through her. “So Anna knew something—something she might have planned to tell me.”

Luke nodded. “I think so.”

“But what? She wasn’t even involved, as far as we know, right?” Will joined in.

McKenna shrugged. “I don’t have the answers to those questions, either. Yet. But I’m going to find out.”

“I have a feeling when you do, you’ll have what you need to crack this case wide open.”

TEN

T
he house looked exactly as McKenna had left it. Almost, anyway. There was crime scene tape everywhere. She knew it had been neatly put up yesterday, but today after hours of exposure to the harsh arctic winds, parts of it were tattered and hanging down, like something from a horror movie.

Okay, so the house looked nothing like she’d left it.

She let Mollie out of the car, keeping her on a leash to make sure she didn’t escape. Will had dropped her off at his boss’s house on their way out of town yesterday, assuring McKenna that his neighbor would be happy to watch her and would take good care of her. Checkers had flown to Anchorage with them yesterday and was staying with Anna’s parents for the time being. Mollie seemed to miss her friend, but McKenna was glad she had only one animal to worry about right now.

She reached down to pet Mollie between the ears, noting how soft her fur was, as she tried to summon up the courage to go inside the house. Will had been right about his neighbor taking good care of her. She smelled like she’d had a bath.

“I guess it’s not going to get easier,” McKenna finally whispered to Mollie.

“Are we going in?”

Will’s voice behind her started her. Again. She had to start doing a better job of paying attention to her surroundings. It was something they’d tried to drill into her mind at the trooper academy, and usually it stuck. But when she was stressed—ironic, since that was when she needed to be most alert—she tended to slip up.

“Might as well,” she mumbled, forcing one foot in front of the other up the path to the front door. She slid her key in, deciding as a chill went through her that she was changing the locks. The police had found no evidence of a break-in, and while McKenna had a hard time believing someone Anna knew personally would have shot her, it was either that or believe that someone who wanted them both dead had a key to their house.

She shivered again. Yes, the locks were going to be one of the first things on her to-do list.

“Do you want me to go in first?” Will asked, concern lacing his tone. He’d been right there, every time she needed him, since they’d found Anna. Even though she’d insulted him—she saw that now—by suspecting one of his closest friends.

“I can do it,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “And I’m sorry, Will. About suspecting...” She trailed off, suddenly mindful of how sound would carry in the cold air and knowing that anyone could be listening.

“I know.”

“I don’t suspect him anymore.” Trusting Will should have been reason enough to take him off the list in the first place even before the killer targeted someone Matt would never hurt.

This case had to be solved before anyone else ended up in the hospital—or worse. But now she was starting to doubt her ability to find the culprit.

A voice echoed in her mind, reminding her that God was even more interested in justice than she was. But she couldn’t think about God right now, not with thoughts of Anna’s broken body still haunting the edges of her mind. God was a God of love. She knew that from what she’d been taught her whole life, and from what the Bible said. But He’d let Anna get hurt. Why?

McKenna didn’t know.

She let Mollie off the leash and followed her into the house, more grateful than she was willing to admit that Will was following close behind her.

McKenna didn’t know what she’d expected to feel when she reached her room and saw the aftermath of the attempted murder and investigation, but she felt nothing. It was as if she was watching the scene from somewhere outside herself.

None of her belongings had been disturbed. She hadn’t been sure if the crime scene team would need to go through things or not. If they had, they’d been very careful to put everything back into place. Parts of the bloodstained carpet were missing, likely so they could take blood samples. Anna’s blood was obviously there, but there was a chance the shooter’s DNA could be there somewhere, too. A light layer of fingerprint dust covered several surfaces.

The air was stale and held a mix of smells McKenna couldn’t identify, probably from the chemicals used to process the scene.

Her eyes drifted toward the dried pool of crimson.

“You’re not staying here.” Will said the words aloud just as she felt herself thinking them.

McKenna shrugged, hating the thought of sleeping in this house but not knowing what else to do.

“I’m serious. Stay at Matt and Lexi’s. They’re going to be in Anchorage for a while anyway, with Anna. I know they wouldn’t mind.”

She was already shaking her head. “I think I’ve imposed on them enough, wouldn’t you say? Staying with Lexi’s sister and almost getting her killed?”

“That’s not your fault, but we’ll get into that more later. Right now I want your sleeping situation settled. Stay at my house if you’d rather do that, and I’ll stay here.”

McKenna tried in vain to pull her eyes from the mess on the floor, but it held her gaze as though magnetized and she found it almost impossible to look away. She swallowed hard. She wasn’t going to take Will’s house away, but she knew she had to give in somehow.

“Okay, I’ll stay at their house if it’ll make you stop pestering me.”

“Good. I have a key. Just grab what you need for you and Mollie and we’ll walk over there now.”

McKenna wanted to protest. Really, she did. But the entire house felt tainted by what had happened. She didn’t feel safe here. Not anymore.

“All right. Let’s go.”

* * *

McKenna slept on the foldout couch in Matt and Lexi’s empty house that night. She dozed in and out of sleep all night, as did Mollie, who stayed on the floor beside her.

So many questions remained unanswered and plagued her through the dark predawn hours. Why had Anna been a target? Who was behind all this?

Maybe most important of all—when would it end?

McKenna must have fallen into a deeper sleep sometime around four, because when she opened her eyes again, the sun was shining and she felt surprisingly refreshed. She looked at the clock. Just past seven. She threw back the blanket she’d used to cover herself last night, patted the holster on her side to make sure her gun was still there and stood.

Today, she was going to find answers.

Her first stop was her office. She hadn’t been by at all yesterday, since she’d left first thing to go out with Will and then come home to find Anna...the way she had. McKenna didn’t know what she was looking for there, but it seemed like a good place to start. If all else failed, she’d call the guys at the crime lab in Anchorage and see if they could speed up the results of anything they’d discovered at the crime scene. Maybe Luke could call in a favor for her.

Although, if Luke was right about Anna’s dad being a longtime officer there, the department was probably already doing everything they could to get results quickly.

She drove to the trooper station and let herself inside, feeling eyes on her the entire time she walked from her car to the door. Someone was watching her again. She was certain of that. But who? If it was the guy who wanted her dead, he would have shot her by now, right?

McKenna shut the door behind her the moment she’d stepped inside and bolted the locks. Then she let the blinds down, hoping the chills along her spine would go away if she knew no one could see her. They didn’t, so she opened the blinds again, knowing it was probably smarter for her to be able to see out than to barricade herself in here.

First, she checked her office phone. No messages. Then the fax machine. Nothing there, either. It wasn’t that she was expecting anything, but she’d thought she’d better check in case Captain Wilkins had stumbled upon a lead he wanted to pass on.

McKenna sat down at the desk with a notepad in front of her as she tried to collect her thoughts.

What she wanted to do today was figure out who’d shot Anna. But technically, that wasn’t her job. The North Slope Bureau Police Department would be investigating the shooting, in conjunction with the state crime lab in Anchorage. One of the officers had flown with them to Anchorage yesterday to hear McKenna’s story of finding Anna. Just because McKenna’s gut instinct told her that Anna’s shooting was linked to her case didn’t meant it was. The text message she’d gotten from Anna’s cell yesterday seemed to imply that, but even that wasn’t solid evidence. Anyone could have that phone. The text could be a prank. Stranger things had happened.

Maybe she could work to establish a link between her dead hunters case and Anna’s shooting. That would give her an opening to help bring her roommate’s attacker to justice. First, she’d email Captain Wilkins and bring him up-to-date on what had happened with Anna and her thoughts on that. She turned the computer on and waited. The ancient desktop finally found the motivation to fully power on. McKenna opened her email program.

And found a new email from Anna.

Her stomach rolled as she worried it might be another note from her would-be murderer. Then she checked the date and time on the message. It was sent yesterday morning. Not long after McKenna had missed the call from Anna on her cell when she was out with Will.

Heart racing, she opened the email.

McKenna, I decided I can’t wait to talk to you in person. I’m not sure if it’s the best idea to talk about this over email, which is why I’m sending it to your work address. More secure, right? Bad news first, I think someone may have followed me from the clinic. Now for what may be good news. I got called in to treat injuries George received in a fight earlier this morning.

McKenna tensed. George had been in a fight? Was it the fight with Will, when he tried to shoot her? Or was the timing wrong, clearing him from suspicion?

While I was checking out his injuries, he was mumbling things about hunters stealing from the land, about troopers not managing it well...his usual rant. But what caught my attention this time is that he said something about the polar bear population being low this year. He thinks someone is hunting polar bears, but that doesn’t make sense. Only natives can do that legally, right? Aren’t they a protected species?

I’m sending this from my phone. I’m on my way home. I pulled over into a parking lot to type this when you didn’t answer your phone, and my battery is low so I have to go now. Save this email if you need it because I have my phone set to delete any message that I send, including this one. You should be home soon, so I’ll see you then. Your turn to cook tonight? Or is Will bringing us food?

She shivered at the end of the message. Anna couldn’t have sent this long before someone shot her. There was something eerie in knowing that life had been going on normally and then...not.

McKenna reread the message. It was too coincidental that all of that had happened the day Anna was shot. She shivered again, but this time from anticipation. She was relatively certain she had one of her answers right here.

Anna was shot because of her conversation with George.

But how had the shooter known what they’d talked about? And why did it matter to him? Why would someone care if she knew the polar bear population was low? Unless someone
was
hunting illegally.

Then why not shoot George for talking? But then, who would take the comments of a bitter old drunk seriously...unless they were backed by someone credible who believed him. Like Anna.

Her mind took another track. Was it possible George was behind it all? He could have been drunk, maybe, and said too much to Anna and then needed to silence her.

Neither option was good.

Both options gave her something to look into.

This case was heating back up in a hurry. McKenna printed a copy of the email for her files, closed down the computer and called Will.

She needed to go check on the polar bear population. But first, she needed to talk to the man who was more and more becoming her top person of interest.

* * *

“I want to know what you know about polar bear poaching.” McKenna wasted no time coming to the point when George answered his door. If he was surprised, it didn’t show on the lines etched in his leathery face. He just stood there with the door partially open, staring at her. McKenna’s heart beat a quick rhythm in her chest as she second-guessed her decision to come alone—maybe she should have taken Will up on his offer to come. But as incompetent as George seemed to think troopers were to begin with, she didn’t want to reinforce that perception by bringing civilian “backup.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You talked to Anna about it yesterday,” she countered.

This time an expression crossed his face. McKenna couldn’t quite identify the emotions behind it but it was there. She was definitely on to something.

He narrowed his eyes, his look becoming more contemptuous by the minute. “If you mean the paramedic who patched me up—” he motioned to the bruises on his face and on one arm “—then yes, I talked to her. But I don’t know why that would interest you.”

McKenna clenched her jaw, taking deep breaths to calm her temper, but it wasn’t working. Every time she started to feel as if her emotions were under control, she thought of Anna. Saw her lying on the floor, helpless. “This isn’t a game, George,” she said in a low tone, hoping to remove that look of condescension from his face. “People are dying and I need to know why.”

“Greed, most likely. Those people are always greedy.”

“You keep saying that.
Those
people. Who are
those
people? And what do you know about the low polar bear population? Are
you
killing them?” She knew it wasn’t exactly the questioning progression they taught at the trooper academy, but it was the best she could do at the moment. Maybe her to-the-point questions would shake him up, make him give her some straight answers.

He stared at her for the space of several heartbeats. “Even if I was killing them...” He leveled her with a glare. “You couldn’t stop me. Native Alaskans are allowed to harvest polar bears, responsibly, for subsistence reasons. Or didn’t you know that, Miss
Wildlife
Trooper?”

“I’m aware of the laws. I’m also aware that there are tagging and reporting requirements and if you’re not meeting those for one reason or another, you’re guilty of committing a crime.”