by Sue Henry
“I’m going to get this guy, Phil—one way or another,” he pledged.
“We’ll get him.”
I brought Tank back here,” Jensen told the group in Jessie’s living room. “He didn’t want to leave you there, Jess. It was all I could do to get him in the truck. He trusts me, so he was okay once we got on the road, but once we got here, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. Every time I got up for anything, he got up, too. He ate a good dinner and drank water till I thought he’d float away. He was uneasy without you, so I slept on the sofa, so he could be there on the rug close to me.”
They were back early the next morning to find Jessie better after a night of much-needed rest. She was dressed and sitting on her hospital bed, somewhat clumsily finishing what appeared to have been a huge breakfast.
“My hero,” she greeted Jensen with a smile, laying down the soupspoon with which she had been shoveling scrambled eggs. “How’s Tank?”
“Dropped him off at the vet. He’s checking him out, but thinks he’ll be fine.”
“Good. Billy taking care of the rest of my mutts?”
“I called him last night, and he’s been there every day, so they’re fine, too. I called your friend Maxie. She’s in Fort Nelson, headed for Alberta today. She’s called every night worrying about you. Said to tell you to call her tonight if you can.”
“I will. You’d like her. She’s great.”
She turned her attention to Becker as she attempted to push away the breakfast tray on its rolling support.
He took over and did it for her.
“Phil! I could have guessed you’d show up official-like.” Then, in anticipation, “Don’t say it. I know I shouldn’t have gone off alone to look for him, but who knew?”
“Wasn’t gonna,” he told her with an I-give-up shrug of the shoulders and a grin that turned to grimace as he took in her swollen hands and the dressings on her wrists. “How’re you doing?”
“Pretty good.” She rubbed at her right hand with the fingers of the left. “Both hands are still half numb, but they say it’ll go away when the swelling goes down. And there’s good news. The doc that fixed my knee was in, took X rays, and says it won’t need more surgery. I’m back to a brace for a while, and then we’ll see, but it’s probably just a setback. And—I can go home today—now, if you’ll take me.”
While she had been bringing them up-to-date on her medical condition, Becker had dragged up chairs for himself and Jensen. He took out a notebook and settled in one of them.
“Great! We’ll see about that.”
Jessie frowned. “What do you mean, we’ll see? I want out of here and back in my own space.”
Jensen, who had remained standing, strolled to the foot of the bed and gave her a serious look.
“There’s a lot been going on while you weren’t here, Jess,” he told her. “Things you don’t know that we think are involved with what happened to you. So if we’re going to catch whoever did this to you—and Tank—we need to ask some questions. And you need to know some of what we’ve already learned.”
“Like what?”
“Why don’t we start with your telling us everything that happened to you—from the time you started out the Parks Highway to when Alex found you in that old cabin,” Becker suggested. “It would help if we could get a look at it from your side first.”
Jensen agreed and, as Jessie began her account of the last two days, finally sat down. They let her tell it all without interruption, though parts of what she related soon had Jensen pacing the floor again, glowering in self-controlled silence, suppressed anger making him restless.
“So,” she finished by telling him, “you came and found us and brought us back here. That’s it.”
No one said anything for a minute, while Becker ran a pencil down the list of notes he had been taking during Jessie’s recital.
“You have no idea who it might have been?”
“None. And I had plenty of time to think about it, believe me. That horrible dog yard is my only clue. Maybe it was the owner. I don’t know. Like I said, he came up behind me, and I didn’t hear anything because those mutts were making so much noise. When I woke up I was blindfolded—couldn’t see a thing. Just heard the door shut as he left.”
“What was it he told you again?”
“Warned me that I’d be sorry if I didn’t keep the chain tight and not to take off the blindfold until he was gone.”
“How did you get it off?” Jensen asked.
“It was loosely tied. All I had to do was rub my face against my arm and it fell off.”
“Odd. Seems like it would have been more frightening if you couldn’t see, and he was obviously trying to terrorize you.”
Jessie shook her head, helpless to answer. “I think maybe he wanted me to see just how helpless I was in the trap he’d made for us. I really think he intended for both of us to die out there—Tank first. But he had no idea how well Tank trusts and minds me, did he?”
There were a few more questions, but she had told them everything she could remember.
“Now,” she said when she had given the last answer, “your turn. Tell me everything that’s happened since I left.”
Becker sketched out the situation for her and how it had developed, but he didn’t take long or go into much detail.
Jessie sat thinking hard when he had finished. “And you really think my abduction is connected to the two murders? Tell me why again—those specific points.”
“Wease has to be the person who took Tank from the fairground and made threats to you over the telephone, though I don’t know how we’ll ever prove it. It makes sense because he claimed the camera bag—wanted it back when it was returned. He’d seen Danny Tabor with you at the Iditarod booth—chased the boy away from there, in fact. But we don’t think he was the person who hit you and took you to the cabin. How could he have known where you’d be? There was too much time involved for him to have gone out there, done that, and not been missed from his security job at the fair. Lomax seems to keep pretty careful track of his people and would have noticed. He fired Wease for not showing up on time.”
“And you think Wease killed the other guy?”
“We can prove that he and Belmont—the body in the pond—were connected. More than one person saw them together, one of them Danny, who saw them that same night. Both Wease and Belmont are dead, so it was someone else who made an attempt to grab Danny yesterday morning—and that may be the same person who grabbed you. We need to know who that person is. Danny got a good look and can identify him. So we’re taking him to have a look at the rest of the security staff this morning.”
“Good idea. But can you please take me home first?”
Becker and Jensen gave each other questioning looks.
“How about after?” Jensen asked her, with a glance at his watch. “We’re supposed to meet them at the fairground in half an hour.”
“Can I come with you? Who knows, I might recognize someone.”
Jensen grinned, knowing it was unlikely, but willing to humor her. “Phil?”
“Okay—okay.” Becker gave in. “Let’s get you checked out and you can come along. Alex can take you home and get you settled when we’re through.”
CHAPTER 28
“I hate hospitals,” Jessie informed the living room group in reaction to Becker’s comment that he’d never seen anybody leave one with more enthusiasm.
“You weren’t winning any footraces with that knee, but you took first prize for exuberance.”
“It also took longer getting to the security office with you along,” Jensen said. “Seemed like everybody had heard you were missing and wanted you to know they were glad you were okay.”
Jessie smiled, remembering.
“It’s great to have friends,” she said.
They parked in the employee lot at the fairground and slowly walked through to the security office. Passing between the lumberjack arena and the back of The Sluice Box, Becker poin
ted at the small grove of trees with the picnic table.
“That’s where you saw the guy you thought was drunk that night, right? From what we know now, it was Belmont, and the bartender did throw him out the back door.”
As if he had been conjured by Becker’s words, Jessie’s friend Eric came out the back door of the pub suddenly with a load of trash destined for the Dumpster. “Hey, Jessie. We were worried about you.” Tossing the trash, he came to meet them and give her a careful hug, mindful of her obvious injuries. “You all right? What happened?”
“I’ll be fine,” she told him. “I’ll come and fill you in later, okay? I’m already slowing these guys up for a meeting with my hobbling.”
“Sure thing. It’ll keep, and I’ll keep a beer cold for you.”
He greeted the two troopers and waved them off with a grin as he went back toward the pub.
They made it as far as the Iditarod booth before they were stopped again. This time it was Joanne Potts who came out the door in a rush to greet Jessie. “Thank God,” she called while she was still in motion. “I was worried to death. Did you find Tank?”
Jessie assured her that her lead dog was safe and sound. “But I’ve done the damn-damns to this knee again, so I won’t be able to help you.”
“Not to worry. I’ve got all kinds of help. Barbara Brosier is back from Alabama, and two more people suddenly volunteered yesterday.”
Once again Jessie promised to tell her later about what had happened, then limped on to the security office with Becker and Jensen, where they found Danny Tabor and his father waiting for them outside.
“Hello, Danny,” she said, stopping beside him. “I hear you’ve been having quite a time. So have I.”
“Hi,” Danny said with a grin that was a bit bashful but that revealed the devotion Jessie seemed to inspire in kids. “How’s your dog Tank?”
“He’s just fine.”
“This is my dad,” Danny told her, remembering his manners.
“Doug,” his father said, holding out a hand, but quickly withdrawing it when he saw the condition of hers.
“Sorry,” she said, “but it’s good to meet you. You have a fine boy here. He’s good with dogs.”
“He’s lobbying for one.”
She turned back to Danny. “You know, I may have some new puppies soon. Maybe you should come and pick one.”
A huge grin spread itself over Danny’s face.
“A bit out of our price range, I think,” Doug Tabor said, knowing the value of a pedigreed animal from a sled dog racing kennel.
She smiled at the boy, whose grin had disappeared in disappointment. “That, I think, might be arranged between Danny and me, if you approve. I sometimes need help with my dogs, and he needs to learn about how to take care of one. We could make a trade.”
“Oh, Dad, can I?” Danny asked, starry-eyed and anxious. “Please?”
Tabor grinned and nodded to Jessie.
“That’s generous of you, but we’ll wait till Danny’s through being grounded and see how it goes. He’s promised to be more responsible.”
“Really responsible,” Danny said, eagerly reaffirming his promise.
Becker grinned, aware of exactly how this deal would eventually turn out—to the satisfaction of all concerned. “Let’s go in,” he suggested. “We need to get this done before the fair opens. These people have to go to work. You ready, Danny?”
Danny’s hopeful grin quickly turned to anxiety.
“It’ll be fine—and easy,” Becker told him. “Remember what I told you. All you have to do is look around and tell me if you see the man who came after you in the truck. Okay? That’s all. Nobody can hurt you. We’ll be right there all the time.”
The boy turned to Jessie. “Will you come with me?” he asked her.
“Sure,” she said, encouraged by a nod from Becker. “I’ll be glad to.”
Reassured, he walked close beside her as they followed Becker through the door, Doug Tabor and Jensen close behind.
Inside they found a staff meeting in progress and the room crowded with people wearing black SECURITY Tshirts and baseball caps. Becker had arranged with Dave Lomax not to tell his staff that Danny would be coming to their meeting, or why, so several of those assembled turned questioning looks on the group as they all filed in.
It was crowded enough so that when Becker leaned and casually lifted Danny to a waist-high counter, it seemed that his intention was to make space, when it was really to position the boy so he could see everyone in the room. Jessie stepped up beside Danny and slipped an arm around his waist.
“Can we help you with something?” one of the security guards asked.
“Phil Becker, Alaska state troopers.”
“Oh, right. Dave said you’d be coming. He’ll be right back.”
“That’s okay. I need your attention for just a minute. I won’t keep you, because I know you have to get to work when the fair opens. You all know about the murder in the lumberjack arena,” he told them. “I’d like to ask your help in telling us anything suspicious that you might have seen or heard, however insignificant it might seem.”
As Becker spoke, Danny cautiously examined face after face around the room. When the trooper paused to look at him, he shook his head.
“You sure?” Becker asked softly.
“Yes. I don’t see him,” the boy whispered.
“Okay.”
He turned back to the group of security guards. “I don’t need to know immediately, especially if you’re supposed to be somewhere else right now. But I’ll be around, or you can reach me through our office here in Palmer. Thanks for your time. We’ll let you get on with it.”
Lifting Danny down, Becker led the way outside, where he knelt beside the boy.
“You are absolutely sure you didn’t recognize the man in the truck?” he asked again.
“I’m sure. He wasn’t there.”
“Well, Lomax told me that a few of them wouldn’t be there—already on duty around the grounds. So that’s the best we can do for now.”
“Sorry,” Danny said, still sticking close to Jessie.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” she said and gave him a hug. “You did great!”
While the five walked back toward the parking lot, Becker and Jensen discussed the failure in low tones, while Danny answered some of Jessie’s questions about his runaway time at the fairground, making her laugh at his scarecrow deception.
“I’d like to have seen that,” she told him. “Bet you made a good one.”
“Mr. Monroe said I did. I stayed really still.”
“Who’s Mr. Monroe?”
“A nice old man who hid out with me.”
They had reached The Sluice Box when Jessie remembered her promise to tell the bartender about her disappearance.
“Do we have time?” she asked Jensen. “Or do you need to get me home quickly?”
He questioned his partner with a raise of eyebrows.
Becker gave in. “I should get back to the—oh, what the hell. Let’s all get something to drink. Fair’s just open, but the pub won’t be for another half-hour.” My treat. Danny’s under age, but he’s with two law enforcement officers, and the place is closed and empty, so I think we can bend a rule in favor of a soft drink this one time. Okay, Doug?”
“Why not?”
They all trooped in through the back door.
The double front door was closed, which made it darker than usual inside, but the bar space was brightly lighted. Eric was nowhere to be seen. There were only two people. A man with his back to them was standing at the far end of the bar, so intent on hitting on the blond woman Becker had seen the night before that he didn’t even notice them. She was continuing to set up what would be needed when the place opened and was obviously trying to ignore him.
All the picnic tables were empty, so Becker led them to the one nearest the bar.
Eric almost immediately came out of the cooler, saw them and came around to greet
them with a grin. “Great. Glad you came back. Looks like you’ve picked up a midget along the way,” he said, referring to Danny, who looked up and frowned.
“I’m not a midget,” he declared indignantly.
“You must be,” Eric told him. “We can’t serve kids, so you have to be a midget for a little while. Okay?”
“Okay,” Danny agreed, to accompanying smiles. “I’ll be a midget—but only for as long as it takes to drink one root beer.”
“Root beer—coming right up. What can I get for the rest of you nonmidgets?”
They ordered a mix of soft drinks and beer, Jessie choosing a Killian’s Red. “I dreamed of one for two whole days. I don’t care if it’s too early in the morning—I’m having it.”
“Be right back,” Eric told them.
“I’ll come and help,” Becker offered, and they went to fill the order.
Everyone was quiet for a moment. The only thing to be heard was the sound of bottles being opened, beer being poured, and the woman’s slightly irritated voice from the other end of the bar.
“Give it up. I told you, I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“Oh, come on, darlin’. Your secret’s safe with me,” the man’s voice answered.
At Jensen’s side, Jessie suddenly grew rigid as she straightened in incredulity and shock.
Thinking he had accidentally bumped her injured knee, Jensen turned to apologize, only to see that all the color had drained from her distracted face and she looked ready to faint.
“Jessie?” he asked, lifting an arm to support her. “Jessie?”
“That’s him,” she whispered through stiff lips. “That’s the voice of the man in the cabin. I knew I’d heard it somewhere before. Who is that?”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Oh, hell. You’re no fun. I’ve gotta get back to work anyway,” the man at the bar said to the blond, turned, and started in their direction.
At the sight of him, Danny seemed to shrink. Sliding lower and lower on the attached bench of the table, he disappeared under it with a gasp. “That’s the guy from the truck.”
