“No, no,” she protested. “I’m all ears.”
“You’re the veterinarian, aren’t you?”
That got her attention. “Yes.”
“I saw you in the lobby and figured it was you. You’re just like Walt said.”
“W-wait,” she stuttered. “You talked to Walt?”
He flushed. “Yeah. Once.”
“We were...we’re close.” She swiftly corrected herself. “What did you talk about?”
He lifted one shoulder in careless indifference. “Nothing. Just stuff.”
“Like what kind of stuff?”
“He talked about his dogs a lot. He liked history. He knew everything about the Indigenous tribes in the area.”
“You said he mentioned me?” she prodded, raising her voice at the end for encouragement.
Finn wasn’t much of a talker. This was worse than pulling teeth.
“Oh, yeah. He asked if I’d met you yet. Said you sometimes came by the resort to check on the sled dogs. Said you were good with animals. Say, um, he was supposed to get back to me on something. If you talk to him, can you remind him to call me?”
Either he was a very good actor, or he was legitimately unaware that Walt had been murdered.
“Sure,” she said. “Can I leave him a message?”
“Nah. He had a book on the Tlingit Native Alaskans. Did you know they used the hot springs for sweat bathing? They thought it treated arthritis, colds and even stress. Go figure. I guess stress isn’t just a modern invention.” He fanned his fingers. “The springs were said to enhance overall well-being.”
“People must still believe they do.” She waved one hand to encompass the room. “The resort does a good business.”
Finn’s expression darkened. “There’s nothing people and money won’t exploit. It’s sad if you think about it. A culture survives for thousands of years, and then, one day, someone comes along and says, ‘Never mind. This all belongs to me.’”
She wanted to keep him talking. “Sometimes progress is just exchanging one problem for another.”
“You know that quote by Honoré de Balzac?”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“Behind every great fortune lies a great crime. Makes me think of that. Only behind every great exploration is a great tragedy.” Finn glanced toward the corner of the room where a security camera was suspended from the ceiling. “Do you trust that state trooper?”
She followed his gaze. “Officer Taylor, you mean?”
He seemed to be distracted by the cameras, yet he was making no effort to move out of view.
“Yes,” Finn said, focusing his attention on her once more. “I saw you talking just now. I figured you must know him.”
“I do. He’s a good man. He’s a good officer. You can trust him.” The waiter discovered her new seat and set down the two pieces of cake and two decaf coffees. “If you want to talk to him, he’s going to join me when he finishes his phone call.”
She pointed at the two place settings to make her point.
“Never mind,” Finn said. “It’s nothing.”
“I can give him a message if you want.”
“That’s all right.” Finn adjusted his glasses again. “Can you do me a favor? Don’t tell anyone I was asking about the cop.”
The only time in her life she hadn’t wanted people to see her speaking to the police was when she was hanging out with people who were operating on the wrong side of the law. Finn didn’t look like the type, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
“They sure have a lot of cameras here, don’t they?” she said. “Makes you feel safe.”
“Makes me feel like big brother is watching.” Finn snorted. “Since I’m not a paying guest like the others, I feel like the management is always watching to make sure I don’t steal the silver.”
She’d had people look down their noses at her plenty of times. She knew the feeling. “These places can be intimidating, can’t they?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
He pushed his plate toward the center of the table and swiveled in his seat. She didn’t have much time.
She flagged down a waiter and grabbed a pen, then scribbled Shane’s number on a napkin. “You can call Sergeant Taylor.” She added her own number. “Or me. Anytime. If you need anything.”
He scooted his chair back and her stomach sank. His demeanor changed from defensive to indifferent in the blink of an eye. Whatever had been bothering him before clearly didn’t matter anymore.
“Don’t worry about it.” Finn stuffed the number in his pocket and stood. “I had a legal question, is all.”
He walked to the door and she’d almost convinced herself that he was a dead end. There was nothing to connect him to Walt except a fascination with history and a fear of damnatio memoriae. He and Walt wanted to preserve history against the powers of colonial guilt that made it easier to erase the past than admit mistakes.
At least he’d taken the phone number. Maybe he’d change his mind. At the very least, he’d spoken with Walt recently. If there was any chance he’d seen or heard something, they had to know.
As Finn exited the dining room, he glanced up at the camera suspended above him, then back at her. An emotion radiated from him like a heat wave, though she couldn’t quite gauge the meaning.
Was it fear? Was it guilt? He turned away before she could identify the source of his unease.
* * *
“I’ll talk with the geologist, Kara,” Shane repeated for the third time. “It’s only been a few hours.”
He’d sought Kara out as soon as he was able. He was running on fumes. He hadn’t slept much last night and wasn’t anticipating doing any better tonight. This day had started out bad and gotten worse. He was ready to hang it up and start again tomorrow.
He’d coordinated the road clearing with Jeff as soon as the weather let up, contacted the marshal from WITSEC and stressed the continued danger to Kara with the resort security. The storm hadn’t abated long enough to bring in the helicopter, and Shane was on edge.
Since the avalanche had occurred closer to the resort, Major Crimes was scheduled to retrieve Walt’s body for an autopsy to learn more about the gun that had killed him as soon as weather permitted. Which left Shane trapped and ineffective while the case progressed without him. Each additional minute that ticked past grated on his nerves. The nagging voice in his head reminded him that the Alaska Bureau of Investigations was better equipped and had more technical capabilities. They were trained to study murder scenes.
A different, louder voice was trying to drown out his better sense. This was his case and his borough, and somewhere along the line things had gotten personal.
In between everything else, he’d been attempting to track down the geologist, Finn. He’d even had resort security on the lookout. It was a small resort, yet Finn always managed to be someplace else when Shane wanted to talk with him.
“Finn was one of the last people to speak with Walt,” Kara said. “And he was nervous about something. I don’t know how it all fits together, but I can’t shake the feeling it’s something important.”
“I believe you, but I’m spread thin. If he wants to avoid me, he’s doing a good job.”
Shane only had two eyes and that wasn’t enough lately. He needed to be everywhere at once and he was winding up nowhere.
“Can’t you go to his room or something?” she asked.
“I tried his room already,” Shane said. “I’m telling you, I’ve dealt with reluctant people before. If he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s talking to me, then hanging around outside his door will only frighten him worse.”
Shane was balancing on a fine line. He wanted to speak with Finn as much as Kara did. If he couldn’t find the geologist soon, he was certain Kara would take matters into her own hands. That was something he wa
nted to avoid at all costs. He didn’t even like the idea of her talking to Finn in the dining room surrounded by people and staff. Not until he knew more.
“I know, I know.” She pressed her fisted hands against her temples. “You’re right. I’m just frustrated.”
He needed her to understand he was taking this seriously. “If you think Finn murdered Walt, if you recognize his voice, then I can act in my capacity as a state trooper to detain him. Beyond that, I can only request a conversation. I can’t force him.”
“No.” Her posture sagged as though someone had clipped the strings holding her erect. “He didn’t strike me as a murderer and his voice wasn’t familiar. One of the other guests said he was always kinda twitchy. It seems to be his default state.”
“One good thing came out of your talk already,” Shane said. “Because he wasn’t a paying guest or an official employee, he wasn’t listed on the manifest, which means Jeff and I hadn’t done a preliminary background check on him. He works for the University of Anchorage. Looks like he’s been there for at least a decade. Nothing suspicious there. All we know is that he visited Walt, and he asked if I was trustworthy. We don’t even know the two things are connected.”
“Nothing about this makes any sense. If this is about Nick Amato, how does a geologist from Anchorage trace back to me?”
“I’ll try and find him as soon as I leave here. He can’t go anywhere. None of us can.”
“I should have pushed him harder to tell me why he visited Walt.” Kara rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Being trapped here is making me frustrated. I can’t stop my mind from spinning and spinning around all the questions.”
“I know. Me too.”
“I want to know. I have to know. But finding out this is all my fault isn’t going to make anything better.”
“Let up on yourself.” Shane took her fisted hand and she unfurled her fingers. He rubbed his thumb against her palm. “We’re doing everything we can. The ABI is doing a deeper search of the guest list and the travel manifests for any inconsistencies. I’ve recruited two of the security guards from the hotel to check security footage and pinch-hit for me guarding your room. Until I get backup, that’s the best I can do.”
“I didn’t mean to criticize your work,” she said, clasping his hand between hers. He wanted to capture this moment. He wanted to memorize the way her fingers felt against his palm and the way her smile wrapped him in comfort like a warm blanket. “I know you’re running yourself ragged and I appreciate that. I never doubt your dedication to the job. I admire you for it.”
“You have a strange way of showing it,” he mumbled, sliding his hand free of her grasp. “You don’t like this uniform. You don’t like my job. You don’t like how I’m handling this case. Is there anything you like about me?”
She lifted her stricken gaze to him. “I like everything about you. Don’t you realize that?”
“If that were true, we’d be together. We’re not.”
“Liking each other was never the problem with us.”
“Then what is the problem? If we can’t even be friends, then what you’re saying is a lie.”
Her eyes glazed over, and she went unnaturally still. “You don’t understand.”
His injured speech burned in his throat, refusing to cooperate. “Then explain it to me.”
“I can’t.”
He’d known from the beginning he was more invested in the relationship than Kara was. There was no reason to feel hurt. “Then there’s nothing left to say.”
Her voice was small and distant. “I’m sorry.”
The last thing he needed was her pity. Maybe being friends wasn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe it was time to cut his losses.
“I’m sorry too,” he said with a sigh.
She looked sad and he froze the image of her then. He never let anyone else have power over him. There were no unfinished relationships in his past. No unrequited loves boxed away in the recesses of his memory. He’d always been good at floating above the drama of romance that had sucked so many of his friends beneath the surface.
Love was a weapon of manipulation that he refused to let someone use against him. Loving someone meant giving them power. The more uneven the relationship, the more uneven the power structure.
If he stayed in control, he’d insulate himself from a broken heart. That’s why he’d walked away from their relationship without hesitation. He stood by his decision. Why, then, did it bother him that he felt as though he’d been unceremoniously dumped like a pair of shoes that pinched? And why did he care so much?
Her gaze grew wistful. “What are you thinking?”
He stood. “I’m thinking it’s time to get back to work.”
She went to push off from the couch and winced. “I may have overdone it today.”
“Let me help.”
He extended his arm, and she slipped her palm into his hand, allowing him to haul her upright.
She was even lighter than he remembered, and he inadvertently propelled her into his chest. She flattened her palm against his beating heart to steady herself. He bent his head and his good intentions fled. Her eyes reminded him of warm butterscotch.
He swallowed hard against the rush of unfamiliar emotions crowding him. Close proximity to Kara was not conducive to his peace of mind. One glance from her left him rattled. For a moment her expression seemed almost wistful. Had she enjoyed any of their time together? Did she ever regret what happened between them?
The argument had been stupid. A disagreement that should have been laughed off. Instead, they’d both become stubbornly entrenched.
He’d felt compelled to stand his ground. She’d scared him because he sensed that he would always love her more. He’d been scared of the shift in power, scared of letting her have control over him. He was right to be afraid.
His gaze dropped to her lips and for a moment he was tempted. He stood there, captivated and speechless. More enticed than he ever recalled being in his life. They were both drowning in emotion, but this time, Kara was the more vulnerable of the two.
The realization rose like a wall between them. She was no more ready to deal with the uncertainty of their relationship than he was.
He lifted his hands to her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger a touch longer than a friendly peck, then he stepped away.
They stood there like that for a long moment, neither of them speaking. He gave Kara every opportunity to reach out to him.
She plastered a fake smile on her face, presumably to camouflage the awkward moment. “At least we’ll be out of here by Christmas.”
He let his heart adjust to the disappointment.
Things were going to be harder from here on out. “I hope so. I’m already sick of wearing this uniform.”
He didn’t enjoy holidays in general, and Christmas in particular. As a trooper, he saw that most holidays were excuses for bad behavior. Christmas was just another chance for people to assume fake smiles in front of a fake tree and appear fake happy.
“I love Christmas.” A thoughtful smile touched her lips, as though she’d wrapped her mind around a pleasant memory. “No one ever forgets to celebrate, do they?”
“I guess not.” Something tugged at the edges of his memory, a fact that was just beyond his reach.
He made a mental note of her enthusiasm. He couldn’t recall a time he’d seen her this excited. She didn’t strike him as the sort who’d festoon her house with Christmas decorations. He tried to picture her spare front room filled with a porcelain village set on spun glass snow, an electric train circling the base of a fresh-cut pine and yards of twinkling colored lights. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t. But what did he know about her? Not much, apparently.
Come to think of it, it wouldn’t take much to slip into the gift shop an
d see if he could find a present. The few high-end items the resort carried were probably nicer than anything he’d find in town. While he and Kara weren’t in the sort of relationship that meant they exchanged presents, he didn’t think she’d have much under the tree. Not considering her past, and especially now that Walt was gone. This was how it was going to be between them.
The differences between them were too vast.
“If you need anything,” he said. “I’m in the room next door.”
She nodded, her attention fixed on the blowing snow outside the window.
That nagging sensation returned. As though he was forgetting something. He mentally shrugged. He’d figure it out later. Right now he was tired, and he couldn’t afford to be tired. There were too many people counting on him.
A soft tap on the door was followed by, “Resort manager.”
Shane swung it open and he recognized Mark. Graham had recruited him from Boston or New York. The resort manager always had the look of a man who wished he was someplace else. He also insisted the staff call him sir.
Working in Alaska in the winter meant you were either a native or something had gone terribly wrong in your life. Shane had initially pegged Mark for the latter. When his preliminary background check didn’t turn up anything, Shane considered another possibility. Mark was using his job here as a stepping-stone to something bigger. There was no fault in a guy who wanted to move up the ladder.
It was a good reminder to avoid leaping to conclusions.
Shane swung the door open wider. “Can I help you?”
Mark adjusted the perfect double Windsor knot at his neck and flashed an envelope. “Someone left this for Dr. Riley in the lobby.”
“Who?”
“I can’t say. It was discovered at the check-in desk.”
Shane studied the envelope. Kara’s first and last names were printed neatly on the outside. She didn’t know anyone at the hotel. Whatever was in that envelope was suspect.
“Can you check the security cameras?” he asked. “See if you can find who left this?”
“Certainly. I’ll let you know if I discover anything.”
Arctic Christmas Ambush Page 7
