Alaskan Legal: A Legal Thriller

by Dave Daren

  She’d given me a great deal of information, but she hadn’t answered the most important question. Where had she been that night?

  She didn’t have an alibi, that much I was certain. If she did, she would have told me when I had suggested she was Vann’s killer. I’d planned to follow up on her movements that night, but new information about the other suspects had pulled me in a different direction.

  I remembered how determined she’d been to be struck from the suspect list. She’d also supplied me with just enough information and encouragement to point me toward the other possible suspects, and I realized that I had, unknowingly, done exactly what she had wanted me to.

  I had to admit that I was impressed. I wasn’t usually so easily sidetracked, though truthfully, she’d never been off my list during this investigation. There simply hadn’t been anything that brought me back to her until now.

  As I climbed into my truck, I formed a route in my head to search for her car. There were three locations I needed to check first before I expanded my search area just so I could be sure that she hadn’t found a way to leave town. From closest to furthest to my current location, I needed to visit the dock that held Vann’s boat, the dock that held Morris’ boat, and the airport. The last place I could think to check was Northernmost Point. There was no dock, but she could have anchored a watercraft there, nonetheless.

  The hunt was on.

  Chapter 12

  I slowed my car almost to a stop as I reached the dock with Vann’s boat. Police tape still surrounded the anchored vehicle, but only one officer stood guard this time around. No civilians hung around to pester the cop with questions, and I guessed that at this point, everyone knew the story behind the boat. They were now only interested in how the story would end, and the desired outcome was Morris behind bars.

  But I wasn’t interested in the dock this time around. My eyes zeroed in on the parking lots across from the beach that line the front of the stores and warehouses on the opposite side of the road. I held my breath as I searched for the Chevy, and my heart skipped a beat every time I saw one. But it was never the right color or license plate. Yura’s car wasn’t parked here, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

  I pulled into the first open spot and shut off my car. I did one more quick scan of the other vehicles before I hopped out of the truck and jogged across the street toward the dock.

  The police officer standing guard at the Vintage Vann straightened up at the sight of me. I prayed this was an officer who wouldn’t give me the cold shoulder, or worse, chase me away from the scene. But when I got closer, I recognized the face, and I released a small sigh of relief. It was the officer that had asked me if Cassandra was single which I took as a sign that he wasn’t as unhappy about our presence in the town as some others were. I couldn’t see the bat tattoo on his neck from where I was, but I could see that his nametag had been returned to his uniform, and it read Waska.

  Waska smiled when he recognized me, but then adjusted his face to be more stoic. I was the big, bad lawyer trying to help Morris escape his rightful punishment for murdering Vann, after all. Of course, he needed to appear indifferent, even hostile toward me, even if I did have a cute paralegal. That was the likely narrative he had been told and the one running through his head as he watched me come closer. The narrative must have been losing to his own thoughts, though, because by the time I stood in front of him, he wore the smile once again.

  “Hey, man,” he greeted me and held his hand out.

  I grabbed it for a handshake and was startled when he pulled me forward into a one-armed hug instead. He patted me on the back, and in my stupor I imitated the gesture. He released me and placed his hands behind his back.

  I had only spoken to him once before, and yet he treated me like an old friend. The fact that he wore a police uniform, and I had, for the most part, received cold hostility from the officers in this town made his treatment of me even more bizarre. I wasn’t going to question it, though, since I knew I could use it to my advantage. I already had Pingayak as an ally within the station. It was good to have Waska be another.

  “Your girl Cassandra is at the police station if you’re looking for her,” he told me as he moved his head in the general direction of the station.

  “One, Cassandra is not my girl,” I corrected him, and he laughed at this. “Two, I’m well-aware of where she is. And three, I’m looking for another woman.”

  His eyebrows shot up as a playful smile stretched across his face.

  “Another woman?” he repeated with a chuckle.

  I smiled at the thoughts likely running through his mind and shook my head.

  “Not what you think,” I said. “I’m looking for Yura. Did she pass through here?”

  “Yura?” he said, and the playful smile vanished as he thought. “I took over this shift about an hour ago, but I haven’t seen her. Maybe the person before me did?”

  Not the answer I’d wanted to hear, but I hadn’t expected this search to be easy.

  “Thanks,” I told him as I began to turn away.

  “Wait,” he called after me as he grabbed my arm. “Why are you looking for her? You know something we don’t?”

  I knew it was a race against the clock in my search for Yura, but I also didn’t want to lose the odd friendship I had with Waska, especially if it turned out my deduction was wrong and Yura wasn’t the killer. That meant I would still be in this town investigating the murder with one extra cop unnecessarily cold toward me. I allowed myself to be turned around, and when I faced the young officer, he released me.

  “Everything I know, you guys do, too,” I lied as the memory of Morris’ crime entered my head. “I want to ask her about the drug found in Vann’s wine glass, see if I can get any kind of reaction out of her.”

  His eyes widened at this.

  “How do you know about that?” he asked before suddenly bringing a fist down into his palm. “Oh! Cassandra! So that’s why she’s hanging around the station. Oh, that’s sneaky.”

  There was no anger in his voice when he said this, just admiration. He nodded, smiled, and wagged his finger at me as though I had just shared a dirty secret with him. The sight was entertaining, but Yura’s disappearance refused to let me enjoy the moment.

  “That’s a good plan,” he complimented. “I don’t fully agree with you helping Morris, but I’m also glad someone’s on his side. I don’t want anyone wrongfully convicted, you know? If I see Yura, I’ll let Cassandra know.”

  I wondered how he planned to do that from the dock. Maybe he had managed to get her number after all. I realized it didn’t matter, though, and the longer I stood there, the more time I was wasting.

  “Thanks,” I told him as I turned away again.

  I tried not to run back to my truck since I didn’t want to pique Waska’s curiosity, but I managed a quick pace nonetheless. I waved at Waska as I pulled out of my spot, and then I returned to the main street and continued slowly down the road. Though I was moving further and further away from the dock, I still kept my eyes glued to my left and the cars that lined the road.

  It was possible she had parked further down the road to throw off anyone on her trail. It was also likely she had arrived earlier, parked her car, and then had someone, maybe Ronan, drive it elsewhere.

  Or maybe I was giving her more credit than she deserved. I remembered all of the ridiculous theories she had shared with me on how Morris killed Vann. As I drove, I wondered if the creation of those ideas had all been an act to make me underestimate her. If she came off as short-sighted, then there was no way she could be suspected of murder.

  I sighed and wondered if I was the one who was cooking up complicated and ridiculous theories. After all, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to drug someone and then throw them overboard. If it had been Yura, she’d lucked into Morris as the scapegoat when he’d come out to the boat, and she certainly didn’t need to spend much time and effort trying to clear her own name.

 
I sped up slightly as the second dock came into view. My eyes eagerly scoured the left side of the parking lot, and I slammed on the brakes when they located Yura’s Chevrolet. Her car was parked in front of Osaka Restaurant, and from where I was, I could see she wasn’t in the car.

  A car honked behind me, and I realized I was still in the middle of the road. I pulled into the spot next to the fisherwoman’s sedan and shut off the engine while I tried to decide what I would do.

  I climbed out of the truck, and after I’d shut the door, I bent down to peer through the Chevrolet’s passenger window. The interior of the car was surprisingly clean, and I wondered how often the car was used. In a small city like this by the ocean, travel by car probably wasn’t common. Still, the lack of sidewalks didn’t encourage a lot of walking, either.

  I looked around inside the car in the hopes of seeing anything that might indicate where she might be running off to, if she was running, but no such luck. I turned away to face the dock and then looked back at the restaurant. Could she have stopped inside for a bite, or was she on the dock preparing for her getaway? Before I could decide on an answer to my question, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out to see that Cassandra was calling me.

  “What’s up?” I answered.

  “Chris called me about Yura,” she said.

  “Chris?” I said.

  “I mean Officer Waska,” she explained.

  “You’re on a first-name basis with him, huh?” I said as I stared across to the dock.

  There were less boats anchored there than yesterday, and I wondered if this was due to the brawl that had occurred, or if several trips had been planned for today. Either way, most of the boats still present were small, beat-up speed boats, the perfect ride for someone on the run. The Arctic Wizard was also anchored to the dock, and I wondered if Marniq and Tash were working on it now.

  “I call him by his first name because he insists I do,” my paralegal quickly explained, and I could imagine her face turning red. “If I was seeing someone, you’d know about it. I love to kiss and tell.”

  The bashful image I had imagined immediately vanished.

  “Anyway, he told me who was on guard duty before him,” she continued. “I met with the officer, and she told me that Yura had approached Vann’s boat two hours ago. She had asked the officer when his boat would be available to use.”

  “Was her behavior off, kind of frantic?” I asked as excitement jolted me to pace between the parked cars.

  Cassandra moved away from her phone to talk to someone else. There was muffled talking on her end for a moment.

  “The officer doesn’t remember,” she finally answered. “She thinks Yura was acting normal. These questions about Yura has everyone in the station on edge. They want to know if you found something.”

  “No, nothing,” I told her. “It’s just a hunch. But if we find out she’s trying to skip town, then we might have an issue on our hands. Thanks for the information.”

  “No problem,” she replied and then hung up.

  I leaned against my truck, folded my arms across my chest, and then looked across the street to the dock. Two hours ago, Yura had approached the officer about Vann’s boat, and when she was turned away, she drove down here. Two hours was plenty of time to prep a boat and escape. If she had planned to run away, I wasn’t going to find her on the dock. I needed to first confirm she was actually escaping, and from there I could determine what my next steps were.

  I turned my attention to the storefront of Osaka Restaurant, where a neon light on the window announced the eatery was open. I pushed myself off the truck and moved toward the main entrance. Once I was inside, I found the same waiter sitting at a table and looking at his phone, but no signs of Yura.

  Yesterday seemed like a lifetime ago, and so it felt like I was seeing the teenage boy for the first time in forever. Part of it, I thought, had to do with the sun never setting. All of my memories of the previous day were in broad daylight, no matter how many hours had passed between them.

  The waiter glanced up at me when I entered and then returned to his phone. His widened eyes snapped back up to look at me when recognition took hold. He put his phone away and approached me as an impressed smile formed on his face.

  “You were in that brawl yesterday,” he said in awe as he did his routine head shake. “That was insane.”

  I chuckled at his reaction before glancing over at the kitchen where the man and woman stood. They watched me warily, and I ventured they hadn’t been as impressed by my participation in the brawl. It was clear they weren’t as excited about my return, and I decided it would probably be better if I simply asked my questions and left. So I turned my attention back to the waiter.

  “You often look out the window?” I asked the young man.

  “Yeah, occasionally,” he answered with a nod, and as if to prove he was telling the truth, he glanced over at the window. “This job has a lot of downtime, so I look out the window sometimes.”

  “Then could you tell me if you saw the owner of that car?” I asked as I pointed at the Chevrolet.

  He looked in the direction of Yura’s Chevy and immediately nodded.

  “Yeah, it was a woman wearing a green jacket,” he said. “She went onto the dock.”

  “Did you see what boat she climbed onto?” I asked.

  “No,” he said with a shake of his head, and his bangs fluttered back and forth across his forehead like curtains. “I stopped watching her once she reached the dock, but she never came back, so I’m guessing she got on one of the boats.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Yeah, no problem,” the young man responded.

  I waved farewell to him and the adult couple. The waiter returned the farewell with a wave of his own, while the adults only offered blank stares. It was probably the best reaction I could hope for from the pair, and I decided not to take it personally.

  I exited the restaurant and crossed the street to the beach. I was convinced I wasn’t going to find Yura, but I hoped someone on the dock had seen her choice of watercraft and could possibly tell me where she was headed. Not that I really believed anyone on the dock would know where she was going, but it was a hope I carried anyway.

  Her escape didn’t mean the end of the world. If anything, her sudden departure might trigger a few conversations about my client’s innocence. No confession would be obtained from Yura, but no doubt the entire investigation would be put on halt until she was found, especially if the identified drug was traced back to her. A search would need to be commenced, but where to look was going to be an issue.

  Given Utqiagvik’s location, Yura could have sped off to Russia or Canada. She’d be entering the countries illegally, but such a crime paled in comparison to murder. If she wasn’t caught, then she could begin a new life under a new name in either country. She could have also been traveling along the shore of Alaska until she reached another city and boarded a flight from there. Then her choice of destinations would be endless, and we would likely never see her again.

  I gritted my teeth as I walked up onto the dock. A wide path of wood stretched out before me with ten walkways jutting out of the main path. The space between each was wide enough to allow two boats to be docked, but rarely was this the case. Since most of the anchored boats were small speed boats rather than large trawlers, I could easily see down the dock, and I saw that no one walked on its wooden boards. My hope of gathering information was waning.

  I retrieved my phone from my pocket and pulled up my contacts. My thumb hovered over Cassandra’s name as I thought out my plan. I doubted the police station would be interested in hunting down Yura based on a hunch I had, even if I made Cassandra put in the request. My deduction of Yura as the killer was based solely on the nature of the relationship between her and Vann, and the fact that she was the only person Vann would want to gloat to about beating Morris.

  I stared at my phone for a moment longer before the sound of metal clanging again
st a hard surface drew my attention. The sound had come from the Arctic Wizard, and I put my phone back into my pocket to investigate. I walked quietly back to the dock closest to the shoreline, and after a quick look for any loitering witnesses, I climbed aboard the watercraft.

  I didn’t immediately see anyone once I was aboard, and the ship felt empty. For a moment, I wondered if the sound had come from below deck until I heard it again, louder this time.

  It was coming from the stern, so I walked along the wall of the wheelhouse until I reached the back of the boat. I rounded the corner of the wall and found myself standing behind someone hunched over and working on something at their feet.

  The mystery person froze at the sound of my footsteps and slowly stood up straight. I instantly knew from the pale, short hair that Diana stood before me, but she didn’t turn around to face me.

  “I know, Marlene,” she said slowly with her back to me. “That’s the third bucket of ice I’ve dropped, but I can do it. I promise.”

  “I don’t know if she would believe you,” I joked.

  Diana turned her head suddenly and gasped at the sight of me. She awkwardly placed her hands on her hips as she fully turned around to face me. She was embarrassed, but rather than turn a shade of red, her skin appeared to grow paler. She offered a sheepish laugh and also a view of the old, gray bucket full of ice lying at her feet.

  I noticed a pair of double-doors that were open, and I craned my neck to see that a set of stairs led down below deck. Since I knew that the entrance to the cabin had been a hatch on the bow, I decided these sets of stairs must have gone below the cabin into a hold for where the caught fish would be stored. That would explain why Diana was carrying buckets of ice to this part of the boat.

  “Mr. Brooks, what are you doing here?” the pale woman asked as she lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck.

  “Chasing a ghost,” I answered, and I had to stifle back the laugh that emerged from seeing her surprised reaction.

  “A ghost?” she whispered. “What do you mean?”