Prime Catch

by Ilona Fridl

  About ten minutes into the flight, Sarah heard, “Lakat, are you all right?”

  She hesitated a moment. “Yes. Why do you ask?” She opened her eyes and peered at Amos.

  Amos tugged at his mustache with an amused glint. “You’re as pale as death. Is this the first time you’ve flown?”

  “Yes. But I can take it.”

  Amos broke out into a grin. “Swell. I hope I don’t have nursemaid duty when we get to Sitka.”

  She gave him an evil-eyed glare. “You won’t. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll handle this myself.” She closed her eyes again and rested her head against the metal bulkhead just as the little plane gave a jerk. Amos snorted as she rubbed the bump on the back of her head. “Not a word, Sheriff.” She glared at him.

  They arrived at Sitka without further incident, and the plane bumped along the grassy airfield there. When the craft stopped, Amos undid his safety belt and moved to help Sarah.

  She felt like her stomach was still up in the air, but she gathered her dignity about her as a shield. “I can handle my own belt, thank you!” To her dismay, as she rose her knees promptly buckled, and Amos caught her. It was disconcerting to have his arms around her, and an unwanted tingling went through her body. “I’m all right now.”

  Amos hesitated. “You sure?”

  She pressed her lips together. “I’m sure. You can let go of me now.” Willing her legs to hold her up, she straightened her clothing. “Come on.”

  Bill had their bags off the plane and waiting at the bottom of the steps. When they exited the plane, he held out his hand to Amos. “I hope the trip was smooth enough.”

  Amos nodded as he shook Bill’s hand. “It went swell. I’ll wire when we’re ready to come back.”

  “Good. I’ll see you then.” Bill turned and tipped his cap to Sarah. “Miss Lakat.”

  “Thank you, Bill.”

  Bill climbed back into the plane, and Sarah saw Amos loading their bags into a Ford truck, assisted by a burly man in a khaki jacket. She hurried over as Amos turned.

  “Sarah, this is Sheriff Ray Tunny of Sitka. Ray, this is my deputy, Sarah Lakat.”

  Ray Tunny regarded her without speaking. “Your deputy is a woman Eskimo?”

  The hairs on the back of Sarah’s neck prickled. She held out her hand. “Yes, I am a woman deputy, but I’m a Tlingit.”

  He ignored the hand. “Get in the truck. I’ll drive to the hotel. We can speak during dinner.” He directed the information to Amos.

  Sarah glanced at Amos. He blew out a breath and shrugged. “Come on.” He helped Sarah into the truck cab and slid in beside her. She ended up sandwiched between them, and it was mighty silent on the way. They stopped by the Seaside Hotel, and Tunny pulled the brake back.

  “This is it, Darcy. You can register, and I’ll unload the bags.”

  Sarah followed Amos inside the marine blue building, past its wide white porch where wicker rocking chairs bobbed back and forth in the breeze. A distinguished-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair was behind the registration desk. “May I help you, sir?”

  Amos leaned on the desk. “Yes. I’d like two rooms for a couple of days.”

  “For―?”

  “Myself and Miss Lakat.”

  The man’s eyes turned to her for the first time. “I’m sorry. We don’t rent to Eskimos.”

  Through his teeth, Amos growled, “I’m Sheriff Amos Darcy from Juneau and she’s my deputy. We’re here on official business.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s our policy. No exceptions.”

  Before Amos exploded, Sarah put a hand on his arm. “Let’s go someplace else.”

  Amos stalked out of the hotel and confronted Tunny. “Are there any other hotels in this town?”

  With a half-smile, he ventured, “Something wrong, Darcy?”

  “Yes, there’s something wrong! Take us to a place where they don’t have brainless people working for them!”

  “You’re not going to find many who will take her. There’s an inn near the docks who will rent to anyone.”

  “Take us there.”

  Tunny shrugged. “All right.”

  They reloaded the bags and mashed together again in the front seat. In a few minutes, they were in the seedy harbor section with a bunch of ramshackle buildings leaning crazily along a dirt road. Tunny stopped in front of a place called The Harpoon just as a couple of rummys reeled down the street and started to fight. Tunny slid out and grabbed them by their collars. “Go home and sleep it off, or I’ll throw you in a cell.”

  They turned their unfocused eyes on him and straightened up. “Sure, Shurff!” Then Tunny pushed them in another direction.

  He went back to the truck. “We’re here. The Harpoon has rooms upstairs that anyone can rent for a price.”

  Amos exploded. “Where did the sots get the booze from? Shouldn’t you be looking for that?”

  “Darcy, the speakeasies around here change from day to day. It’s hard to keep up with them.”

  Sarah sighed. “Amos, I’ll stay here. You go back to Seaside.”

  Amos gave her an angry glare. “The hell I will! You’re not staying here!” He bellowed, “Tunny!” Then he jumped out of the truck. “What in the name of all that’s unholy do you think you’re pulling?”

  Tunny spit on the ground. “I can’t help it if you have a poor choice of deputies.”

  Amos grabbed both the man’s lapels and shook him. “She’s a deputy, and a damn good one. Now you find a place for us to stay that isn’t Skid Row!”

  Sarah was sure the two men were going to engage in a fistfight in the middle of the street. They seemed like two bull moose, each trying to stare the other down.

  Tunny jerked away from Amos and straightened his jacket. “We’re not getting anywhere like this. Look, Darcy, my wife and I have a cabin on our property we can lend you. How’s that?”

  Sarah could tell the adrenaline was pumping through Amos. Certainly his chest was heaving. Amos blew out a breath and stepped back. “You’d do that for us?”

  “Darcy, the Tlingits have a bad reputation in Sitka, but if you think that much of her, she must be okay.”

  Both men got into the truck like nothing happened. Sarah knew it was prudent to keep her mouth shut. Tunny pointed the truck inland, and after ten minutes they found themselves at a little cottage at the edge of town. Tunny pointed to a small road. “The cabin is at the end of that lane. That was the home here before the cottage was built. We use it for guests, so it’s clean.” He stopped by the cottage. “Wait here a moment, and I’ll take you.” He got out and went in the side door.

  Sarah glanced at Amos. “My, he had a turnaround. What was that all about?”

  Amos shook his head. “The hell if I know. He seems to have a Jekyll-and-Hyde streak.”

  “Oh, well, at least we don’t have to stay at that dive. I think women would be viewed as working if they stayed there, and I don’t need the extra money,” she added with a smirk.

  Amos opened his mouth as if to say something but apparently changed his mind. Tunny came back out with a woman of equally solid build behind him, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  Tunny opened the driver’s door and introduced them by their first names to his wife, Flo.

  Flo leaned into the truck. “I’m sorry you had to see the bad side of the community. I want both of you to come in for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow. I insist!” She waved away any protests.

  As his wife went back into the house, Tunny slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ll take you to the cabin.” They bounced along the dirt road until a log structure came into view. “Well, this is it.”

  The picturesque building was set next to several hemlock trees, and a trellis of climbing roses arched over the path to the door. “This is beautiful,” Sarah observed.

  “I thought you’d like it. Come on, I’ll help you with your bags.” He opened the door and they followed him inside. Ecru lace curtains hung from the windows, and the whole place
was modestly furnished in clean, half-century-old furniture. Only one thing was wrong―it was a one-room cabin. “I had to tell the wife you were married or she wouldn’t have let you stay here.”

  Amos whirled on him. “Tunny―!”

  “Something wrong, Darcy?”

  Amos took a fistful of Tunny’s shirt. “You’ve had it in for us since we got here. I’m not about to lie to your wife, no matter what you say. Now, I’m telling you to treat us like fellow officers, or you can deal with this killing spree on your own!”

  Tunny put his hands up. “Okay! I’ll bring your meals out. We’ll start to the cannery first thing after breakfast.”

  Amos still cursed under his breath after Tunny banged the door behind him. “Lakat, I’m sorry I got you into this. You don’t deserve this treatment.”

  Sarah shrugged. “I’m a victim of birth. The reputation Tunny referred to was the Tlingits burning down the town of Sitka. Even though that was in the last century. Some people have trouble letting go.”

  Amos lit one of the kerosene lamps and hung it over the table. “I’ll have to be honest with you. I didn’t realize what your people were going through until now. Oh, I saw the Indian sections of restaurants and theaters in Juneau, but this goes much deeper.”

  Sarah sat in one of the chairs, and Amos settled across from her. She rested her chin on her cupped hand. “And Juneau isn’t as bad as some of the towns in the Territory.”

  “For tonight, we can fashion a room divider of some sort, so you can have some privacy.”

  Sarah smiled. “Thank you, Amos.” She was very grateful that he thought about her comfort and her feelings. A few minutes later there was a knock. Amos got up.

  Tunny brought in two trays, then went out again and returned with a coffeepot and mugs. “Here you are. The alarm clock is by the bed. I figured we could leave by six. That way we’ll be there when the executives arrive at the plant.”

  Amos nodded. “We’ll be ready by five-thirty for breakfast, then.”

  Tunny gave a short cough. “Ah, yes. ’Night.” The door closed with a bang.

  “Bastard,” Amos said under his breath.

  “Amos, let’s make the best of a bad situation. The chicken and dumplings smell delicious.” Sarah lifted the covers off. Fresh peas were swimming in a thick sauce, and rolls with butter were on the side. A slab of apple pie rounded things out. Amos poured the coffee while Sarah set up the meal. She paused before picking up a mouthful. “Really, this isn’t so bad. We could have been stuck in that heap of a waterfront building.”

  Amos shook his head. “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t understand what this was all about. The Indians, I mean. I grew up on a ranch in Idaho, where there wasn’t anybody but white Americans. The Indians were put on reservations before I was born.”

  “Don’t apologize. Probably because of that you’re more accepting of me.” She smiled. “It’s nice to find an American who doesn’t care what you are as long as you can do the job.”

  He raised his mug of coffee in a salute, and she did the same. After dinner, Amos rigged a blanket across the small cabin between the bed and the couch. “There. You can have the bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “Amos, you’re taller than I am. I can manage with the couch.”

  “Sarah, humor me. Set the clock for four-thirty.”

  She took her turn at the outhouse, then retreated to her side of the cabin. She lit the hurricane lamp on the wall by the bed and set the alarm clock. The steady tick-tick comforted her. She changed into her flannel pajamas, blew out the lamp, and wriggled under the sheet that smelled like bleach and lavender. Hearing the door open and close, she called out, “Good night, Amos!”

  A gruff “Good night, Lakat” came from the other side of the divider blanket. Sleep came quickly.

  ****

  Amos shook out another blanket he’d found, then removed his outer clothing and fluffed a down pillow next to one of the arms. After he turned out the light on the kerosene lamp on the table, he groped his way back to the couch, managing to stub three of his toes on a chair. Cursing under his breath, he found his makeshift bed.

  When he swung his feet up, Amos discovered he was about five inches longer than the furniture and had to bend his knees to fit. Silently condemning Tunny to hell without a fan, he lay back―and cracked his head on the arm. He rubbed his head, propped the pillow on the couch's arm, and scrunched up on his side.

  Tick-tick-tick drilled into his brain. Damn clock! He shoved the edges of the pillows around his ears and screwed his eyes shut. He could still hear Sarah shifting around in her sleep. Being that close to her was doing things to him he’d rather not think about. He tried to push down his erection, and that made it worse. He knew there was going to be unrequited pain tomorrow. After hours of tossing and leg cramps, the alarm’s little brass bell dragged his senses out, unprepared for morning.

  He heard Sarah out of bed, busily doing things back there. “Good morning, Amos!”

  “Lakat, just get to the outhouse and back in here!” Amos wasn’t putting up with a chirpy female.

  “Ohh, somebody’s grumpy.”

  “Now!”

  Sarah hurried from around the blanket, buttoning up her shirt. She eyed him as she opened the cabin door. “Bad night?”

  Amos growled, “Women!” As she closed the door, he got up and pulled on his clothes. The sun was peeking through the trees when she returned and it was his turn to slog through the wet pine needles. The chill in the early morning air added to his mood. Tunny was delivering the breakfast trays when Amos returned. Sarah had tidied up the cabin while he was out.

  Tunny turned a questioning glance at Amos. “Slept well?”

  Amos glared. “It was livable. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  Tunny grinned. “You had the couch, eh?”

  Amos said evenly, “We’ll be ready to go at five-thirty.”

  “All right. You’ll probably be happier with some breakfast and coffee in you.” He picked up the dinner trays and left.

  Sarah poured the coffee as he sat at the table. “I told you to take the bed.”

  “There’s some things I won’t do. One of them is not being a gentleman.” He dug into his flapjacks without another word.

  At five-thirty, they were on their way to Alaska King Cannery. The filtered sun sparkled on the waters as they drove along the coast. Amos looked at the Personal from Sitka’s newspaper. Yes, it said something was going to happen at the cannery today. Now, maybe, between the three of them, they could prevent another tragedy and catch whoever was doing this.

  Tunny pulled into the grassy lot that served as a parking area. “The executives should be arriving soon. We can corral them and have them work with us.”

  Amos frowned. “Did you let any of them know?”

  “I told the owner, Travis Johnson, that there was a strange message in the paper for the cannery and that we would watch for any funny business. All of them are going to be here at the same time, so we can talk to them.”

  One by one the men arrived over the next fifteen minutes. Tunny gathered them around. “Sheriff Darcy is here from Juneau to talk to you about the Personal in the newspaper two days ago.”

  Amos faced the men and explained the situation, adding, “I’ve checked in Cordova and Soldatna, and the warnings were the same as the one in Juneau. So far these criminals have taken the lives of three executives. Tunny and I, along with Deputy Lakat here, will stay at the plant all day. We suggest that if you have a daily routine, break it. Don’t go anywhere alone, and be aware of everyone around you.”

  Tunny nodded. “If you see anyone suspicious, find one of us and let us know.”

  The men dispersed, and Tunny turned to Amos. “Why don’t you take the warehouse, I’ll take the canning area, and Miss Lakat, you can handle administration.”

  Amos agreed. “I think we should take lunches in shifts, so there will be at least two on the beat.” He pointed at Sarah. “Lakat, take
your break from eleven-thirty to noon. Tunny, noon to twelve-thirty, and I’ll take the last.”

  Amos walked into the cavernous building that looked similar to Polar Star’s. Workers hurried about, putting boxes of cans on great pallets to be picked up by trucks and ships that moved the stock every day.

  After eight hours, the executives were ready to leave. Three of the plant guards were with them. They joined with Amos, Tunny, and Sarah by the administration building, so they could be escorted to their automobiles. Tunny pointed along the fence line. “We’d better keep careful watch in all directions.”

  Amos put his fingers on the handle of his revolver. “All right, let’s go.” Amos’ stomach knotted. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it in his bones. Suddenly, something whizzed past him from behind and he heard a thud. Mr. Orville Jensen went down with a cry, an arrow stuck in his lower back. Everyone hit the dirt at the same time. Amos pulled out his gun and took off toward a patch of trees to the rear of the fenced area. He heard a rustle in the bushes and took the chain link fence in a step and leap. Landing on his feet on the other side, Amos took off to where the noise had come from. Footprints were visible in the soft mud.

  Concentrating on the tracking, Amos felt himself ensnared by something from above. As he cursed and struggled, he became tightly tangled in whatever it was. Tunny and Sarah ran up, and Tunny continued the way the assailant had gone.

  Sarah dropped beside Amos. “Stop moving around. You’re caught in a fishing net.” She pulled a pocket knife out of her jacket. “I’ll have to cut you out.” She stood and cut two trailing lines that were attached to the bushes on either side. “Looks like they planned for anyone chasing them.”

  Amos was beyond angry. “God damn it! I fell for it like an ignorant school boy! Ouch!”

  “Hold still! This net is hard enough to cut without you flailing your arms around.”

  Amos took to muttering curses to himself as Sarah finished cutting the entwined strands. “Lakat, we failed. All that planning for nothing. I really thought we had outsmarted them.”