Cold Wind

by Paige Shelton

  “I see,” I said.

  It was a drawing of a woman with short, white, messy hair and a scar on her head. It wasn’t a terrible picture, a little better than a stick-figure drawing, but it didn’t show the promise of a special artistic talent. But the scar told the story. It was unquestionably me.

  “When Maper asked her if she wanted to talk to you, she nodded adamantly,” Gril said.

  “Okay. I’ll see if I can get anything out of them.”

  “Thanks. Whatever you can. Last names, places, other people in their lives. I know absolutely nothing. We think they can write other words besides their names, but they haven’t volunteered.”

  I stepped around him and walked slowly to the bed. In tandem, the girls looked up and noticed me. I remembered their eyes, but now that they were cleaned up, their differences were apparent. Annie was unquestionably Tlingit, and Mary was unquestionably a white girl. They looked like two normal little girls; cute, both with expressions that made me think they were intelligent and fully aware.

  They blinked at me for a long moment. I didn’t look much different than I had the day before. I took off the hat. My hair was bedhead crazy, but the scar was my most memorable feature. Mary smiled with recognition, but Annie jumped from the bed and ran to me, wrapping her arms around me tightly.

  “Hello,” I said as I hugged her back. I looked at Mary. “Hello.”

  Mary didn’t continue to smile, but she didn’t seem bothered, either. Annie hugged me tighter. I let her hug until she was done.

  When she finally pulled away, almost a full minute later, I said, “How are you?”

  She smiled and nodded, and pointed at me. The girls were much less … in a state of shock? I’d thought that’s what they were yesterday—shocked. Today, their bright eyes didn’t have that same flat gleam. They seemed fine.

  “Oh, I’m fine, too,” I said. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Annie nodded and then took my hand. She guided me back to the bed and patted the mattress on her other side as she sidled up next to Maper again. Annie pointed at the book and looked up at Maper. Maper smiled at her and then looked at me. It would be great to enjoy a day of being read to, but I knew we had more serious things to consider.

  “Annie,” I said, and put my hand on her arm, “I would love to sit and hear the story, but can I ask you some questions first?”

  Annie and Mary looked at each other over Maper’s lap. Their silent conversation made me think they’d known each other a long time and were very skilled at communicating with each other with their eyes.

  “Girls, I’m going to run and check on some things in the kitchen,” Maper said. “Spend some time with Beth, okay?” Maper closed the book and stood, walking away from the bed before anyone could stop her.

  The girls scooted closer to each other. I made myself comfortable on the bed, folding my legs and facing them. A card table had been set up nearby, where more paper and colored pencils had been placed. I reached over and grabbed some of each.

  “Have you had enough to eat?” I asked them.

  They nodded, but were clearly unsettled that Maper had left. Mary kept looking toward the direction the older woman had gone. I hoped we were doing the right thing for these children, but I knew we also needed some solid answers.

  “Good. It’s nice to see your smiles,” I said.

  They weren’t smiling, but I smiled at them as I spoke. They sent me a couple of weak ones in return.

  “Everyone here wants to make sure you’re okay,” I said. “Do you feel okay?”

  They both nodded, but their eye contact was now spottier than my room’s cell phone coverage. They’d quickly become attached to Maper. I reached out and gently grabbed one of each of their hands. They were okay with the touch; they didn’t flinch. In fact, they relaxed a little as their fingers curled around mine.

  “Good,” I said. “Everyone wants to find out where you live. Do you want to help me understand where that is? Could you maybe tell me or show me?”

  They frowned and shook their heads.

  “Why not?” I said. “Are you scared to go home? If you are, you just need to let me know. I promise you both, we will keep you safe and we’ll never let anyone hurt you.” I hoped that was true. I hoped these two girls were going to be safe forever.

  Mary shook her head, but Annie looked at me with earnest brown eyes. She neither nodded nor shook her head.

  “Is there something you want me to understand?” I said to Annie.

  She frowned.

  “You know, it’s okay to talk if you want to. No one is going to be mad at you for talking. But you can also draw if you want.”

  Annie let go of my hand and pinched her fingers around her lips, but I wasn’t sure if she meant she couldn’t talk or she wasn’t allowed to.

  I handed her some paper and a colored pencil. “That’s okay. Can you maybe draw something? That picture of me is great. Can you draw a picture of someone else, maybe someone you know or someone you live with?”

  Annie blinked at me.

  “How about where you live?” I said. “Here, let me show you where I live.”

  I had zero drawing ability, but the Russian dome wasn’t too challenging. I finished quickly and held the picture toward the girls.

  They smiled at each other.

  “I know, I’m a pretty bad artist. You’re good, though. Your turn. Show me where you live.”

  Annie took the offered paper and pencil. She looked at Mary, who thought a long moment before she nodded her okay.

  Annie got to work drawing a house. I watched with almost breathless anticipation. At first, I thought she might be drawing Lane’s house, but that wasn’t it. Then I wondered if she was drawing the dilapidated shed, but that wasn’t it, either.

  Gril had made his way to a spot behind my right shoulder and was watching as Annie drew.

  “That’s great,” I said when Annie handed me the picture. “Really great.” I still didn’t recognize it, but I heard Gril’s breathing change pace. “Can you tell me where your rooms are?”

  Annie looked surprised for a second, but then pointed at the top window.

  “Is your room at the top of the house?” Gril asked.

  Annie looked at him and flinched. It was one of the most upsetting things I’d ever witnessed.

  “Annie, it’s okay. Chief Gril would never, ever hurt you. I promise,” I said.

  It didn’t matter. Even though Gril stepped away, Annie had shut down. She dropped the paper and pencil and turned to Mary. They hugged, holding on to each other tightly as one of them made a noise like the one I’d heard on the other side of my door, except quieter this time.

  I looked toward Gril. Had he heard, too? He stopped and faced us again. I mouthed the words, Did you hear that?

  Gril nodded.

  I’m sure that’s the noise I heard, I mouthed again.

  But I wasn’t sure I was being as clear as I wanted to be. I stood and went to him. I spoke in a whisper. “There is no doubt in my mind that these girls made the noises both Randy and I heard. I am one hundred percent sure.”

  Gril nodded again and resumed his exit from the community center. He must have recognized the structure. I went back to the girls and looked at the picture again. It suddenly became clear. It was Randy’s house.

  Annie’s interpretation was squatter than it was in real life, and that’s probably why I didn’t recognize it at first. Besides, I’d only seen it the one time.

  Maper came out from the kitchen and beelined to the bed. I got out of her way as she sat by the girls. They glommed on to her for dear life. I felt terrible for upsetting them, but it looked like Gril had something now, which was surely better than nothing. I stepped away from the bed as Maper’s presence comforted the girls and hurried to catch Gril.

  “That Randy’s house?” I said as I reached him by the front door.

  “Sure looks like it might be,” Gril said. “I’ll find out.”

  “Do you
know who the dead woman is yet?” I asked.

  “No idea. We’re working on it.”

  “What about Lane?” I said.

  “What about him?”

  “What have you learned?”

  “He’s waiting for an attorney before he talks. I was going to bring him here to see if the girls recognized him, but I didn’t want to scare them with another possible stranger. I need some official help here. You did great with them, but we could use a therapist or a social worker or something. I’m ready to get some help.”

  “What about the name you gave me?” I said, just as something ran into my legs.

  It was Annie. She was upset, and held on tight to me. I held on to her, too.

  “It’s okay,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

  “What name?” Gril asked me.

  I pointed to my head and kept my voice low. “The therapist in Juneau who specializes in recovery from assault. You gave me the name a while ago. I haven’t called her yet, but maybe she could help the girls.”

  “I’ll look her up when I get back to the office. Right now, I think I need to talk to Randy.”

  “Makes sense.” I looked down at Annie. “Hey, sweetheart, does the name Randy mean anything to you?”

  She looked up at me and shook her head, her eyes so very earnest again. It was almost too much to take, and I felt tears burn behind my own eyes.

  “I’ll be in touch soon,” Gril said as he turned to leave the center.

  I looked down again at the girl wrapped around me. What in the world was going on in the woods of Benedict, Alaska?

  Eleven

  Maper and Viola asked me to leave; the girls needed less stimulation for a while, they thought. I gave each girl one more hug and told them I’d check in with them again later. Viola ran me back to the Benedict House, where I got into my own truck and drove it as fast as the muddy elements would allow toward the Petition. Once there, I jumped out of the truck and, burner phone in hand, hurried to get inside.

  Unfortunately, the call to Detective Majors was destined to be further delayed.

  “Beth?” Orin said, coming around the corner of the building when I was almost to the door.

  My hand went to my heart and I made a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a scream.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just walking around the building at the wrong time,” Orin said, overexplaining. “I was coming around to knock. If I’d known you were out here, I would have announced myself sooner. Sorry.”

  He and I had already discussed his seemingly sneaky ways, but I had become convinced he was just naturally stealthy.

  Orin looked like a somewhat younger version of Willie Nelson, with long gray braids and faded jeans. He always smelled like weed, but I’d never seen him smoking. He had a thing for peace signs, both saluting with them as well as displaying artwork and pictures of them. Our friendship had grown over the past few months, turning into something siblings might have, and we’d skated over his hints that made me think he might know my secrets.

  If I were to make a list of the people I’d thought about sharing my secrets with, Orin would be in either second or third place. Viola was first. I was split between Donner and Orin coming in next. Donner because he was law enforcement and it was good for law enforcement to know about possible threats, no matter how remote. Orin had a secretive past in government work and dark web research, from what I could glean, at least. While I enjoyed our friendship, my real reason for wanting to share with him was that I wondered if his skills might help me figure out who my abductor was, and maybe even where he was hiding.

  “It’s okay, Orin, what’s up?” I tried to sound like I had it together, wasn’t in a crazy rush.

  “What’s going on?” He looked in the direction of Randy’s house. “What’s with all the travel down there yesterday? Do you know?”

  The library Orin ran wasn’t directly on the road we’d traveled yesterday, but off it a little, behind the Petition. He must have noticed the traffic from the library’s back windows.

  I suddenly saw an opportunity. “Come in. If Gril hasn’t had the chance to ask you to look up some things yet, I’m going to.”

  “I haven’t talked to Gril. I tried to call him, but no answer. What’s going on?”

  “Let’s get inside.”

  I knew I was overstepping. In fact, I told Orin as much. But I also knew that Gril had trusted Orin with many things he wouldn’t have trusted other people with. Maybe Orin could help by answering some obvious questions.

  Every day before I left the shed, I made sure I put all my writing away just in case I was surprised by a visitor, as I’d been today. As we went inside, I noticed the piece of paper I’d threaded into my typewriter the day before. Not one word had been written. It wouldn’t do to miss many days of writing; I’d write today, or tonight, whenever I could.

  I told Orin everything I knew about yesterday’s strange happenings. He listened with such intensity, it made me slightly uncomfortable. It was like he was waiting to pounce on a lie.

  “A body, and two silent girls?” he said when I finished.

  “And a mysterious man,” I said.

  “Well, there are lots of mysterious men out here. And another body, the one from a few months ago. I can’t imagine there’s any connection to all the new stuff, but who knows. Stuff just happens out here, Beth.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “I can’t think of anyone missing. Winter hasn’t hit hard enough for us all to hide away in our homes. Sometimes when spring comes, we find bodies. Old or sick people who can’t get out to seek help.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It’s a way of life.”

  “I’ve heard that, too. What do you know about Randy?” I asked. “Have you been to his place?”

  “I’ve never been to his cabin,” Orin said. “He’s run the mercantile for a while, came here from—I can’t remember. I think we both moved here around the same time, so I probably didn’t pay him much attention.”

  “But he came here,” I said. “And he’s living in a house far away from everyone else.”

  “As you know, he’s not the only one, and most everyone living that way hasn’t had trouble with the law; well, with local law. Most aren’t the type to keep young girls hidden in their homes, though I admit, it wouldn’t be difficult to do out here. Some folks just like it here.”

  “I know.” I paused. “Can you think of anyone who might have visited him, friends or someone? Could someone else have noticed something strange?”

  “See there, that’s the interesting question.” Orin leaned back in the chair he’d come to claim as his when he visited. Today, he hadn’t wanted a whiskey. It was early. “Who is Randy friends with?”

  “Who?” I said.

  “Everyone.” Orin smiled. “Or at least, he’s friendly with everyone, but I don’t know of anyone with whom he has a close relationship. He’s not dated that I’ve seen. We’re not old-fashioned around here—as long as it’s legal, consenting adults, we don’t care who’s sleeping with who. No one tries very hard to hide those things, but I don’t know of anyone Randy has had a romantic relationship with. No one.”

  “Does he hang out at the bar after work? Attend community center classes?”

  “Not that I know. I can’t say I’ve seen him anywhere but the mercantile. I’ve never given it much thought. He’s great at running his business, and those are some long hours. If I’ve ever thought about it, which, again, I can’t say I have, I’ve probably just thought he wanted to get home, get away from everyone.”

  Away from the rat race.

  “Okay, so that might still be the case, and maybe the girls, the body, have nothing to do with him. There are lots of cabins in these woods. But what about the girls? There has to be some information about them somewhere, right?”

  “I don’t know,” Orin said. “Babies get born out in the wild and no record is ever made. It h
appens.”

  Before I’d moved to Benedict, a place where I had to hurry to another location just to have cell phone and internet coverage, I hadn’t given much thought to the still-primitive places in my very own country. Even the Missouri woods I was familiar with had been more connected to the rest of the world than Benedict.

  But it wasn’t just Benedict. Alaska was different than anywhere else.

  “Laptop?” Orin asked as he righted the chair. “I’ll need my own computer for anything deep, but yours will give me a good start.”

  I quickly made sure my email was closed and then handed him the laptop. “What specifically are you going to search?” I pulled my chair around to sit next to him.

  “I’ll start with missing people, women and girls, and go from there.” His fingers flew over the keyboard.

  I watched in silent awe as his typing took us to places I might never understand how to reach.

  “Were you educated as a librarian?” I’d asked Orin a lot of questions before, but not that one.

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “Sort of. Not officially, but I was taught those sorts of skills, along with others. Librarians are the only ones who can keep up with me.” He typed some more. “No recent local reports of missing women, but you said she was frozen. She might have been for some time.”

  “That was the impression I got.”

  “I know. Okay, what about this?” He opened a page. The headline read “Benedict, Alaska: Twin Two-Year-Old Girls Perish in Fire, Only One Body Recovered.”

  “Oh, no. That’s terrible.”

  “I remember this,” Orin said distractedly as we both read. “It was right before I moved here, like a month or so. I lived in Anchorage at the time, but I remember this.”

  The short article, dated six and a half years earlier, was from the Empire, Juneau’s daily newspaper.

  During the summer that year, a house on the edge of Benedict had burned down. This wasn’t a completely uncommon occurrence because of lightning as well as the frequent use of fire for heat and light. And Alaska had wildfires. The focus of the article was, oddly, on the fact that the fire was contained to the house and didn’t spread, but mentioned, almost as an afterthought, that only one child’s body had been recovered. There was no indication of where the other child had gone.