Alaskan Christmas Cold Case

by Sarah Varland

  “Not under this seat.” Erynn checked the front seat, then opened the back door, slid her hand under the bench seat. “There’s something here.” She felt around. “A gun case.” She pulled it out. “Empty.” Her disappointment was evident.

  Noah looked around the open area, almost able to feel eyes on him, a crawling sensation running down his arms, his back. “We need to get out of here.”

  “But...” Startled, Erynn met his eyes and then nodded. “Okay.”

  Noah didn’t want to think about how he must have looked for her to comply that quickly. But they climbed back into his car.

  As they were pulling out, two trooper cars pulled in. Noah stopped and rolled down his window.

  “You called this in, Chief?” one of them asked.

  Noah nodded. “Yes. We were supposed to meet a man here about the Foster Kid Killer case. But he’s not here.”

  “That’s his car?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll keep looking.”

  “Thank you.” Noah rolled the window back up, turned right. Not toward Moose Haven, but toward Anchorage.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Anchorage.”

  She shook her head once and glanced back out the window, her head tilted like she was looking in the rearview mirror, back at the scene from which they’d come. “I’d thought we might need to go there to follow some leads, but not like this. Not when Danny Howard...”

  Her voice choked and Noah thought he understood. Had the man not stolen enough from her over the years—he had to kill her father’s partner, too? It left a bitter taste in his mouth. A feeling of defeat that he couldn’t push away in himself much less in Erynn.

  He had been feeling less and less confident they would solve this case without someone else being killed. Noah hated when he was right about things like this.

  FOURTEEN

  There hadn’t been anything to say on the drive to Anchorage. Erynn had tried a couple of times, both about the case and about other subjects, but her heart wasn’t in it and she guessed Noah could tell, because he didn’t seem particularly interested in carrying on a conversation, either. Finding Danny’s car had crushed the flicker of hope she’d felt building in her. Now she felt...nothing.

  For all practical purposes, it was over. The person who had their last solid leads was dead, his body somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness.

  They kept driving, Erynn’s phone dinging every time they went in and out of service. It seemed to her there were more dead spots than service zones between Moose Haven and Anchorage.

  As they drove out of Turnagain Pass and the road wound around over the river and into Portage—not so much a town as a glacier and a wildlife conservation center—she got service again. She glanced at her phone just for something to do—a habit that disgusted her but one she was happy to give in to right now. The phone, the digital nothingness, made her numbness feel less overwhelming. And right now she’d take anything that would.

  Three new emails.

  One was from her cell phone company. One from a friend from high school who’d heard Janie had died and wanted to know what Erynn knew.

  One from Danny Howard. She checked the time stamp. He’d emailed her less than fifteen minutes before they’d pulled off.

  They had barely missed him. Barely missed whoever had hurt or, more likely, killed him.

  “Please pull over.” Erynn scarcely got the words out before she lost the little bit of food she’d eaten all over Noah’s floor mat. She winced, let round two flow from her, and kept going until her stomach was empty and her eyes burned from tears. So many people she’d not been able to save. Losing Danny was like losing her dad all over again. Except this time she wasn’t a helpless kid. She was an adult, a law enforcement officer, and she should have been able to stop it.

  God, why couldn’t I? Why can’t I be in the right place at the right time?

  She ended her prayer, needing the distance. God cared about her. She’d been blessed with people in her life for years, who, even though they weren’t her family, had taught her that, made it clear from the way He’d worked in her life. But at times like this, the feeling didn’t match her reality and that made her uncomfortable. Faith was something she had been well taught. Wrestling with her own? Not so much. Did God mind her questions, her anger?

  Erynn wasn’t sure. Any other time she’d ask Noah, a man whose quiet, real faith seemed always put into action. But right now she needed space from him, too.

  A week ago she’d had him as a friend, occasionally a partner in investigating, and now he had a front-row seat to watch her life disintegrate. And she’d kissed him—good enough that she knew she’d never be able to pull off some kind of lame lie like she’d done it just because of the stress of the case. He knew her feelings now, just as she knew his through his words.

  She was trapped. Because he had never been supposed to find out about feelings she never should have allowed herself to have. Some people were allowed a happily-ever-after.

  She wasn’t one of them.

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin she found in Noah’s glove compartment. Felt a hand on her back, rubbing. Looked over at Noah.

  “It’s okay, Erynn.”

  There was nothing to do but shake her head, feeling her whole body quiver with the exertion of what she’d just been through.

  “I mean, it’s not. It’s awful. It’s horrible. But you can’t give up yet. Believe with me that maybe it could be okay.”

  His voice was thin, not the solid, confident force it usually was, and somehow that made Erynn trust him more. Made her want to try to have that belief.

  “I’ll try.” Erynn blew out a breath and looked down at the mess. She then opened the car door, lifted the floor mat out of the car and did her best to deposit the...mess outside in the grass next to where Noah had pulled over. “Sorry about your car.”

  “It’s the least of my worries. Just be okay, Erynn.” She thought she heard him whisper “please” as she shut the door and he started driving again, but she wasn’t sure.

  “I got an email from Danny Howard.” She watched him as she said the words, saw his grip on the steering wheel tighten and his shoulders bunch. “When?”

  “It came through just now, but it looks like he sent it not long before we...found his car.” She struggled to keep her voice normal.

  “What did it say?”

  She clicked her phone screen, waited for it to open. “I haven’t read it yet, hold on.”

  Service still wasn’t the best and the email took long enough to load that Erynn could feel her stress level rising. When she opened it, her eyes scanned the message itself.

  Erynn Cooper,

  It’s important to me that you know that I never doubted your abilities as a trooper. That’s not why I kept this from you for so long. Rather it’s because I felt I owed it to your dad to do my best to protect you. I guess this seemed like the best way to do it. I was wrong.

  I’m sitting in the pullout, waiting to meet you, but am growing more apprehensive with every second. If I’m right and someone is coming here to do me harm, keep me from sharing this information, I’m attaching as much as I can in attachments. It’s a risk, but it’s one I’m willing to take and probably should have taken earlier. An old man’s paranoia may have gotten the best of him, but trust me, I was doing the best I could to keep your dad’s notes safe. I owed him that, he was the best partner I could have asked for. I’m sending pictures I’ve taken of the handwritten sheets I have. Thank you.

  Her heart thudding in her chest, she opened the first attachment, the sight of her dad’s handwriting making her heart leap and sink at the same time. “He wrote the notes out.”

  “Your dad?” Noah’s voice was steady again, and he kept driving, didn’t stop to make eye contact or anything.

  “Yes.”
She didn’t know why she’d expected them to be typed. Her dad had always preferred to do things by hand. He’d not trusted many people enough to input his notes into the system by typing them out after he’d brainstormed.

  Erynn read the scanned note.

  Connections: Foster Care

  Approved Foster Home Shortage—Happened three months before the first murder. Coincidence?

  All born in Alaska. Again, coincidence?

  He had written something underneath that she couldn’t quite decipher. It was scrawled hastily, like he’d been under pressure, maybe a time constraint when he wrote that part.

  Would her adoptive mom be able to read the handwriting better than Erynn? After all, Anne had had years more practice. The thought of seeing her again overwhelmed her. Erynn wasn’t proud of all the decisions she’d made after her dad’s death... She was proud to have left home to join the troopers, but regretted the way she’d kept in touch with Anne only with cards.

  Erynn hadn’t known how else to handle her grief. But the older she got, the more she watched other people in their relationships, the more she suspected she’d not done the right thing. Would her mom forgive her?

  She glanced at Noah, tried to decide how much she wanted to explain. Then again, what was the purpose of her walls now? They hadn’t protected her from falling for him.

  Would Noah still feel the same when he knew she’d basically abandoned the family she’d had left after her dad was killed? That she had reverted from calling Anne “Mom” to “Anne” again in her head? Sending cards for a decade, never showing her face again... It was a horrible way to treat someone. She didn’t necessarily want Noah to know what a failure she was at relationships, but shouldn’t he know?

  In fact, maybe telling him was exactly what she should do. Then no matter how many feelings they might have for each other, Noah would understood why the two of them together could never happen.

  “We need to go see Anne Cooper.”

  “Relative?” He had his poker face on now, unreadable.

  “Adoptive mom.”

  She felt him tense. Didn’t even need to look at him to confirm that it was true. “You call her Anne?”

  See, this was why it was a good idea to let him look a little deeper, see the ugly parts of her, the parts that were broken. They would drive him away, at least back to them just being friends and occasional colleagues.

  Erynn wished she was alone, wished she had the luxury of a few minutes to cry for what might have been. Instead she focused on a spot of lint on her blue jeans, flicked it off.

  “I know I don’t understand, Erynn, but I’m trying to. Did your adoptive mom hurt you somehow? You talk about your dad with so much love but you call your mom by her first name? Help me out here.”

  “You’re going to need to take Rabbit Creek Road once you get to Anchorage. She lives in one of the houses up there.” They were only just passing Girdwood and the Alyeska Highway. He wouldn’t need those directions for half an hour at least, but Erynn didn’t want to answer the questions. She’d had enough introspection, explanation, for one day.

  Noah let her ignore the question—just kept driving in silence.

  Erynn opened the next attachment Danny had sent. Again, her dad’s handwriting felt like a familiar stab in her heart.

  Look into:

  Social Workers

  Law enforcement

  Dispatch

  Firemen

  EMTs

  Why had he been so convinced that someone in emergency personnel was involved? Erynn wished she knew that, but he’d only written down notes and reminders, not a detailed explanation. He had expected to be able to work the case himself, she reminded herself. He had not planned to leave these as his legacy for her to finish.

  And if Danny was right, he might not have wanted her to. She couldn’t believe that, not really. Even if he’d said so, it was a father talking, not a police officer. He’d given his life for her safety, hers and the other kids, to try to save their lives. How could he expect her to leave the case alone?

  “Do you mind telling me why we’re going to see her, at least?” Noah’s voice broke her focus, brought her back to reality.

  “I can’t make out some of his handwriting. I didn’t have enough years to learn to decipher it.” She almost smiled at the thought of how many times she’d heard Anne tease him about his chicken scratch. But Anne had always been able to read it. Erynn hadn’t thought of her adoptive mom so much in so long, that it surprised her how much her mind was staying focused on her now. But it was. Erynn thought of the hot breakfasts she’d fixed every morning, remembered how she’d been such a calming influence on both Mack and Erynn. She’d been the perfect mom for her, and Erynn had walked away.

  “Just tell me where to turn.”

  Erynn nodded. “Okay.”

  She could only hope she was right and that Anne could read it. And that their time in Anchorage brought them closer to the killer’s identity.

  Because time was running out.

  * * *

  “Turn right here.” Erynn’s voice was strained and Noah wondered again what the story was between her and her adoptive mom. But he’d asked once and she wasn’t saying. He was not in the habit of forcing information out of people he cared about.

  He made the turn, looked to her for the next direction.

  “Drive about three quarters of a mile and then turn left.”

  She hadn’t consulted her phone for directions, hadn’t looked up the address, so he assumed Anne Cooper still lived in the house where Erynn had spent the end of her high school career. It felt like a glimpse into who she was that he had not been expecting but was thankful for.

  In fact, it explained a lot of things so far. Like her tendency to avoid relationships and commitment. Was she afraid of getting hurt again? She’d loved her adoptive dad as fully as anyone could love a father of any kind; he knew that from the way she talked about him. Then he’d died. Was the way she’d abandoned Anne self-protection?

  And was that why she kept pushing Noah away?

  He didn’t need her to answer to be pretty sure his conclusions were accurate. The question in his mind now was how he was supposed to convince her that, God willing, he wasn’t leaving. Wouldn’t abandon her. Wouldn’t take unnecessary risks that could take him away from her.

  She’d kissed him. That had been a huge step for her. Truthfully, he’d haul her to a church today and marry her, take care of her and love her forever, if he was sure she wanted that, too.

  But that was the thing about love. It was a choice. One Noah couldn’t force Erynn to make.

  Please, God. Besides finding this killer and putting him behind bars for the next ninety to life, I also want Erynn to be my wife—

  “This is the driveway.” Her voice startled him out of his prayer. If she had any idea the things he was thinking of, praying for... He couldn’t imagine how fast she’d run.

  “Okay.” He turned and pulled up in front of a typical hillside house—a long-fronted, A-framed prow in the front with large windows that must provide sweeping views of Turnagain Pass behind them. It looked like a good place to grow up. He only wished Erynn had been able to come there sooner, live there longer.

  “Where did you live before this?” She might not answer, but he was curious, figured there was no harm in asking.

  “In a foster home with a few other kids. Well, that’s not true. I lived a couple of months in Holloway House downtown.”

  “What’s that?” He wasn’t familiar with Anchorage, spent as little time in the city as possible. The excess of cars and buildings tended to make him want to drive in the opposite direction, back to the small town of Moose Haven and the surrounding wilderness of the Kenai Peninsula.

  “It’s a house for older kids the state can’t find foster homes for.” He looked over at her. S
he shook her head. “It’s not bad. Just sort of a group home. Well, because it is one.” She hesitated. “A couple of the kids who lived there were among the first victims of the serial killer.”

  “So not great memories of there.”

  She shrugged. “Let’s go talk to Anne.”

  “Did you text?” He knew she hadn’t called, since he’d been in the car with her the entire time.

  “No. I just hoped she’d be home.” Her voice was unreadable, her facial expression the same. Noah still wasn’t sure he understood what it was costing her to show up here. But Erynn believed the note could be read by this woman, so he understood her drive to find out if it was true.

  He climbed from the car, opening Erynn’s door for her, partly out of chivalry and partly because it gave him the time to look around, make sure he didn’t see any obvious threats. Unless they were being followed, there was no reason to believe anyone should know they were there. But he wasn’t taking chances with Erynn’s safety.

  “Thank you,” she said as she stepped out of the car. She looked at the house, face tilted upward, and sighed.

  “You okay?”

  Another shrug. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her shrug so many times. He didn’t like the way it spoke of defeat. She couldn’t give up, not when they were finally making progress. He hadn’t had the chance to look at her dad’s notes yet, but could tell from the reactions she’d had to them that they were going to prove at least somewhat useful.

  Please let this be the key to ending this.

  She walked ahead of him to the front door, turned back. “You’re coming, right?”

  He stepped forward, reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Yes.” He would go with her anywhere she asked him to.

  Noah moved to let her hand go, but she tightened her grip. Worked for him. Together they walked up the front steps and Erynn knocked on the door.

  Footsteps approached the door. Noah felt himself trying to consciously relax his muscles in the hope that it would be contagious and Erynn would be able to relax, too. She was beyond tense.