Alaskan Mountain Pursuit

by Elizabeth Goddard

  “Did we miss something last night?”

  “I’m not sure. But look.”

  Tyler pointed up at the front of the lodge. At first, Clay didn’t see anything, just the wide log beams and siding that made up the lodge. He looked toward Summer’s window.

  There.

  The window itself was outlined in red. Spray paint, Clay assumed, from the tint and the lack of drip pattern on the logs. Underneath the window, above the slant of the house’s roof, were the words, YOU’LL BE EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL WHEN YOU SLEEP IN DEATH.

  “What...?” Clay clenched his fists and fought the childish desire to kick at the gravel rocks at his feet.

  “I know.” The anger in Tyler’s voice reminded Clay he wasn’t alone in his feelings, and that of the group of people worried for Summer’s safety, he’d known Summer for the shortest amount of time. If he cared this much about keeping her alive, her family must be stressed beyond all reason.

  “And you checked on her this morning?”

  “Before and after I saw this, just to be sure. Yes, she’s fine.”

  Clay exhaled. That reassurance did a little to calm him, at least. He pictured Summer as she’d been last night on the couch, eyes closed. Her face had stayed tense though, as if she wasn’t able to relax, not even in sleep. Was that only because of the threat against her? he wondered. Or did it have to do with something else?

  He didn’t know her well enough to ask. Never would, he reminded himself.

  “This isn’t right.” Clay walked down the parking lot a little, parallel to the lodge, looking at the painted words. “He was just trying to kill her and now he’s leaving notes?” He shook his head, pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Noah. He didn’t see the man’s squad car in the parking lot so he assumed he’d already gone to work, probably hoping there’d been a break in the case or that looking at the notes with fresh eyes would help him make a break.

  “Noah, someone was at the lodge last night after we were outside investigating, sometime after 2:30. Did you see his handiwork painted on the wall?”

  “No. It was light when I got up but I was focused on making sure the perimeter was secure before I left, not looking at the whole place. What happened?”

  Clay read the message to him.

  Noah seemed to consider it. “As far as we know the serial killer in Anchorage hasn’t left notes, either before or after the victims’ deaths, so at least that’s good news.”

  “You don’t think it’s him anymore?”

  Noah let out a breath. “I may have been hasty to assume it was. I don’t know yet. I want security around her just as tight as though he is the threat though. I’ll be back to process the scene. Give me about thirty minutes. We’ll talk more then. There are things I’d rather not say over the phone.”

  “Alright, see you then.” Clay hung up the phone, turned his attention back to the message, looked over at Tyler who was still staring at the wall too, then focused back up at the chilling words.

  “We figure out why he did this, we might figure out more about him,” Clay thought aloud, considering the message, the placement of it, the logistics of leaving it. “He had to climb up there,” he observed. “You keep a ladder near here?”

  Tyler nodded. “Around the side of the lodge.”

  Clay headed in the direction the other man had indicated. Tyler started to follow but Clay stopped him. “You stay there. Don’t let your sister’s window out of your sight.”

  “Why shouldn’t he let my window out of his sight?”

  Clay jumped at Summer’s voice in front of him. She’d come from around the side of the lodge, down a stone path that Clay guessed led to the back door.

  “How much did you hear?”

  Summer raised her eyebrows. “So I was right. You wouldn’t have let me out here for some reason.”

  Tyler had mentioned checking on her. At that time, had he told her to stay in her room? It seemed likely. But even Clay knew that telling this woman to stay put would just make her curious about what she wasn’t supposed to see. Tyler should have known it would make her come right outside.

  “I didn’t say that. But you’re supposed to stay where you’re put so we can try to keep you safe.”

  “Stay where I’m put?” Clay wouldn’t have said her eyebrows could get any higher, but apparently that would have been wrong. Her shoulders squared, her chin lifted.

  Frustration at the morning built inside Clay, but he took a breath to keep his temper in check. Most of the frustration he was feeling was aimed at Summer’s attacker and Summer didn’t deserve the brunt of that, even if she did seem determined to make his life harder by making her life more dangerous. Somehow though, he was beginning to understand her family’s tendency toward being overprotective. Summer was so strong, brave. So independent. And maybe...maybe Clay just didn’t want her to have to be all those things all the time if she didn’t want to be. Because while it was clear she didn’t want to be coddled, somewhere in her blue eyes he’d caught the smallest hint of vulnerability that made him think part of her did want protection, wanted to lean on someone, but didn’t feel she should. It made him curious about her, made him want to know her more.

  Something he needed to ignore, would ignore if he had any sense. For both of their sakes.

  Her eyes went to the window and grew wide. “Why? Why would anyone do that?”

  Clay admired how quickly she’d asked the question that had come to his mind. Motive was one of the key elements in solving any crime, and in a crime that could be related to a serial killer—he wasn’t ruling that out yet, even if Noah sounded uncertain—it would be one of the hardest things to figure out. But once they had, understanding motive could be key to unmasking who was behind all of this.

  “I don’t know. It’s something we’re going to try to figure out today.”

  Was it his imagination, or did she edge closer to him? Not that he blamed her. She’d withstood more than the average person could take, pressure-wise, in the last several hours. Everybody had a breaking point. While it didn’t look like they’d found Summer’s yet, Clay knew they had to be careful.

  She leaned closer to him and he searched for words to reassure her. “Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his. She held his gaze for a long span of seconds, then backed away.

  And he’d thought she needed encouragement.

  This woman wasn’t going to stop surprising him with her strength, was she?

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Clay stated. “I’m going to sit here until Noah comes. It’s unlikely he’ll return to the scene, at least right now, but I’m not going to risk the evidence being compromised.”

  “You think the guy who did this could have left something behind that could help us ID him?”

  Clay didn’t want to give her too much hope, but then again, wasn’t hope one of the things that made Christians different from people who didn’t believe? He had to remember that. “It’s possible. I can’t promise anything.”

  Summer looked at him...funny. “No one can, Clay. No guarantees in life, I get that.”

  Once again, she’d surprised him.

  “Anyone hungry?”

  Tyler’s abrupt question was out of place, but Clay recognized it as an attempt to break up the private conversation between himself and Summer. He stepped back, almost without realizing what he was doing.

  “I’ll go get some breakfast,” Summer volunteered. Did she understand what Tyler was doing too and was going along with it, or was she just eager to eat? “I’ll bring it out and we can picnic outside. Make the best of things, right?” She gave a small smile that seemed like a peace offering. She was still feisty this morning, stronger than almost any woman Clay had ever met, but she seemed softer around the edges somehow, at least with him. Like she’d determined maybe they should tolerate eac
h other as long as they were going to be in such close proximity for the time being.

  Toleration was fine, as long as it stayed professional. The more he learned about her, the more he needed reminders not to get too close.

  He was leaving Alaska at the end of the summer. Tyler knew that, had been fine with it. Whether that had factored into his warnings to leave his sisters alone, Clay wasn’t sure. But he’d made no secret of the fact that this wasn’t a permanent trip. Of course, he had no idea where he was headed from there. Georgia still didn’t seem right. It had changed in too many ways and he...hadn’t.

  Maybe Arizona. He’d never seen the Southwest and had always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.

  But staying in Alaska wasn’t likely. There was nothing for him here, except for a job that would only last over the course of the season. And anyway, Clay probably wasn’t the settling-down type. It would be better to stay on his toes, keep moving, than have life come crashing down again in any way similar to what it was like when his parents died.

  “You’d better not,” he finally answered Summer. “I need you to stick close to me.”

  “I’m starving,” she stated flatly.

  “I’ll bring breakfast out,” Tyler offered, having walked back close enough to hear them. He looked at Clay. “Since you have to keep an eye on the scene.”

  He saw the warning in his friend’s eyes. Message received. Clay nodded.

  Tyler studied him for another second, then glanced at Summer. He shook his head slightly and walked away.

  Great. Now Tyler was seeing things that weren’t there.

  Clay looked back at the writing on the house, thought about the case and tried to puzzle out why someone was after Summer in the first place. He knew there was no guarantee it was the Anchorage serial killer. In fact, he hoped for the sake of Summer’s safety that it wasn’t, because the guy was creepy good at what he did. Clay had spent some time searching online last night while he watched Summer sleep and kept an ear open for any suspicious activity.

  He’d killed six women in the span of two months. Always two at a time, not necessarily together although once he’d done that, but within about four hours of each other. There was nothing too obvious that tied the pairs of victims together besides their basic demographic. They were women, all in their twenties and early thirties. Slim, athletic. All blonde.

  Summer fit the profile. But Clay understood Noah’s hope that she hadn’t caught the serial killer’s eye.

  Besides, Summer was the only victim, or attempted victim that they knew of this time. While it was possible the killer would have moved locations and started targeting women on the Kenai after largely sticking with women in the Anchorage area, it wasn’t likely he’d also change his MO enough to stop killing them two at a time.

  So if they weren’t dealing with a serial killer, then the attack against her must have had some other motive. Come to think of it, even if they were dealing with the serial killer, there were still questions about motive that needed to be answered. Why here? Why Summer? What about her had caught this killer’s eye? To figure that out, he needed to know more about Summer.

  “So tell me about yourself.”

  Summer’s eyebrows raised. She laughed a little. “What?”

  Clay realized he’d said nothing aloud for the past few minutes. No wonder Summer was confused. But the more he thought about the situation, the more he realized the opportunity they had. There were few leads on the killer because none of his targets had survived...until now. While the files for the other victims had been examined carefully for connections, the authorities were still at a loss to explain how the killer found his victims, and why he chose to attack.

  Maybe having a survivor could help uncover answers.

  “Say the guy after you is the serial killer.”

  “Um, I’d rather not.”

  “I mean, if he is. Assume for now that he is until we get another lead. It’s all we have to work with and we should be as careful as if it were for sure true.”

  “Okay, I’m following.”

  “If it is the serial killer, then finding links between you and the other women...the ones he did, uh...”

  “You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me, Clay.”

  Hearing her say his name did weird things to his insides. He wanted to roll his eyes at himself. Please. Was he a fifth-grade boy with a crush or an adult man who knew when things were and were not a good idea?

  “The women he killed have things in common. That’s how serial killers work—they have a pattern, a type if you will, and they’re after them for a certain reason. Sometimes it’s because they remind the killer of someone in their past they were obsessed with for one reason or another. Sometimes the victims have something else in common the killer wants to make a statement against. Sometimes it’s just people who the killer happened to have access to, because of where he lived, or what he or they did professionally. There are all kinds of options. I think because of the physical similarities in the women who have been killed—and you also—there’s a good chance that’s the link between the women. But in case there’s more to it than that, I think finding out more about you and more about them might be a good way to figure out who’s behind this.”

  “In that case...” Summer began.

  “What?” he asked.

  She hesitated. Studying him, weighing him, like she was trying to decide to what degree he was on her side.

  “If that’s the case, then maybe I could talk to some of the victims’ families? See if there’s anything else I have in common with the other women who were attacked?”

  Clay’s heart fell to his stomach. She was asking to get involved in the case in a more proactive way. The urge to take charge and actively fight against this guy was something he understood, but had hoped wouldn’t happen for her. For one thing, if Summer insisted on being more involved, Clay would have to be too, something he would rather avoid. He’d made the choice to leave that life behind.

  Besides that, he did want Summer safe and he knew that the chances of being able to keep her safe diminished if she insisted on taking an active role.

  It was with that in mind that he said his next words. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

  “You’re not going to start sounding like my siblings are you?”

  Maybe he was.

  “Explain why you don’t think it’s a good idea.” She said the words like she meant them, like she really cared about his thoughts.

  * * *

  Summer was trying to see Clay’s point of view just like she was trying to see her siblings’. Really, she was. And it wasn’t that she was brave or ignorant of the danger she was currently facing, but she’d never been one to sit still and wait for life to happen. She was the one who ran up mountains, across ridgelines.

  She’d been accused more than once of looking for trouble, and while she disagreed with that assessment, she didn’t go out of her way to avoid risk. It wasn’t her style.

  Life was too short to be lived half-heartedly. Summer had always believed that and still did now, despite the fact that she’d shifted her priorities in the last couple of years, more toward family and away from some of the selfish dreams she’d had when she was younger.

  “Summer, the safest thing for you is to lay low while we figure out who attacked you. Proactively going and talking to other victims’ families isn’t that.”

  “Right, I can see that, but if I’m helping solve the case faster, isn’t it for the best?”

  Tires crunched the gravel in the driveway. Noah parked and walked over to them. Summer’s stomach growled. Tyler sure was taking his time with breakfast.

  “Glad you’re here.” Clay stuck out his hand and Noah shook it. Something about the scene made Summer smile. Her brother liked Clay, something that couldn’t be said for most men.

  Not
that it mattered to Summer. She’d tried romance before, and it had cost far too much. She’d almost lost her family, and she wasn’t going to risk that again. No matter how great a man seemed at the beginning, there was no telling with her judgment.

  “I’m going to go see what’s taking Tyler so long with breakfast.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone,” Clay insisted. Summer looked to Noah.

  Noah shrugged. “We’ll both be right out here so it’s probably alright. Don’t be long, okay?”

  Summer jogged easily to the stairs of the deck and ran up and inside. She found Tyler in the kitchen, icing some cinnamon rolls.

  “Oh yum, where did those come from?”

  “They were in the freezer. I warmed up a couple. Sorry it took so long.”

  He set down the icing bag and looked at her a little funny.

  “What is it?”

  “You seem to mind Clay a lot less today.”

  Was it her imagination or was Tyler not as thrilled by that as Summer would have guessed?

  “I guess I felt like I was kind of a jerk to him yesterday. I’m trying to make up for it.”

  “Just don’t try too hard.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you two wouldn’t be good for each other.”

  The absurdity was so great Summer just laughed. “Tyler, someone is trying to kill me. The last, and I do mean the very, very last thing I am thinking about is getting into a relationship with someone.”

  “Clay’s not the kind of guy to do anything half-heartedly.” There he went, the caution in his voice still strong. “If he falls for you, he’ll fall all the way, Summer. I don’t want you to hurt him and I don’t want him to hurt you.”

  This conversation was giving her a headache. “I thought I should be nicer today. That’s all.”