Tundra Threat (15 page)

She jotted down her thoughts in the notebook, then flipped it back to the first page. She rose from her seat, put her used coffee mug in the sink, motioned to Mollie to stay and headed outside to her vehicle with a copy of her case notes. At the last minute, she decided she didn’t want to have the notes on her, just in case whoever had been following her chose today to try to take them from her. No, she’d just take a fresh notebook and a pen, and work from memory and from the notes she hoped to collect today from Chris. Instead, she put the notes back inside the house, shoving them inside a cereal box in the pantry in case anyone decided to break in and search for them.

Her thoughts ventured back to Chris. He’d seemed surprised when she’d called last night to ask to talk to him. Of course, it had been late. Or was he surprised because he’d set the fire and expected her to be dead?

Too much had happened to her and to those around her in the past week or so. McKenna could hardly separate her worthwhile thoughts from paranoia.

She drove to Bear’s Tooth Pub and Pizzeria, where they’d agreed to meet, and hoped the churning in her stomach wasn’t some kind of survival instinct telling her to ditch this meeting and hole up somewhere safe. It better not be; she couldn’t afford to do that. One way or another, this had to end.

And maybe talking to Chris was the key.

She exited the car, careful to lock it behind her. She’d parked in a location where she could keep an eye on it from inside the pizza place, so she thankfully wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of anyone tampering with it.

Chris was already waiting for her. And he’d taken her seat.

Every trooper, police officer and law enforcement worker she’d ever known always chose the same seat. Back to the wall, facing the door. Chris had picked the right booth, but he was on the wrong side.

“Any chance you’d want to switch seats?” She forced herself to keep the question casual, her tone light.

“Law enforcement. I forgot.” He shrugged and switched sides, surprising her with his willingness to accommodate her. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Those bodies we found on the tundra that first day I was in town.”

Had he flinched, or had she imagined it?

Chris leaned back in his chair. “Getting right to it, I guess. No pizza first? No, I guess this isn’t really a pizza kind of conversation.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“Look, I’ve been doing this a long time. I’ve never seen anything like that and no, I wasn’t responsible. Are we done here?”

“No, we’re not.”

“I have questions, too, as long as we’re asking. Like, why would you have a hunting guide serve as your pilot? Isn’t that a conflict of interest? Especially when another pilot is available.”

Would he be questioning her, implying that maybe
she
had something to do with the murders if he was guilty? It was either a brilliant ploy to throw her off, or he really did suspect her. Which would make him innocent.

She wanted to say it was none of his business, but that would end this conversation, leaving her no better off than before she’d come in.

“I’ve known Will all my life. We grew up together. After showing up new in town, and getting thrown right into a murder investigation, I felt more comfortable working with someone familiar. I’m sorry you’re offended that I’ve been using another pilot.”

He shrugged. McKenna decided to try again to see if she could startle him into giving away any useful information.

“I’m being followed.” She decided she might as well go for broke. “I’ve felt it for weeks. But it’s funny, I didn’t feel like anyone was following me on my way here. Any idea why that is?” She locked her gaze with his. He said nothing.

Suspicion crawled up her arms. “No comment?”

“Look. I don’t have to explain myself to you. Anything I’ve done has been legal and fully justified.” He shoved his chair back. “We’re done here. Somehow I thought you might have decided you needed my help, but it’s clear that’s not the case.” He reached for his back pocket and McKenna jerked, hand hovering near her weapon.

He glared at her as he slowly pulled out a wallet and grabbed a five. “Calm down, Trooper Clark. Just thought I’d pay my bill. Like the law-abiding citizen I am, despite what you think.” He snatched the bill sitting on the table from the cola he’d been drinking and slammed it and the money on the front counter on his way out.

McKenna watched him pull out of the parking lot, keeping an eye on her car as well, as she thought through their conversation. He was evasive, that was for sure. But while it had seemed as if he was intentionally leaving her in the dark on some things, making her think that he might be the person who had been following her, his answers had convinced her that he was innocent of the murders. If she was right, that left Rick or George.

It was time to talk to both of the other men. One way or the other, if she was right, she’d soon be face-to-face with a killer.

FIFTEEN

M
cKenna had tried all day to resist the urge to call Will. There were so many good reasons not to, the first being the fact that she wasn’t sure how much longer she could continue trying to have a casual friendship with a man who made her stomach do backflips every time he came near her.

She’d known in high school that Will Harrison was a special kind of guy. What she hadn’t known was that her feelings for him wouldn’t weaken over the years. But she was old enough now to know better than to get invested in the wrong guy. Wasn’t she? They weren’t suited for each other. First, he still seemed to think of her as Luke’s little sister, in need of protection from the dangerous world. Second, their personalities were so opposite. Will didn’t understand her need for structure. He called it control.

Control wasn’t bad. There was something to be said for having a plan.

And sometimes there was something to be said for taking a chance. Besides, she had developments in the case she wanted to discuss with him. She dialed his number.

Will’s phone rang a few times and then went to voice mail. “Will, it’s me.” McKenna hesitated, not sure how much she should say on a message. “Never mind. I’m going to try to call you again,” she said and then hung up and hit Redial.

Still no answer.

She tried again and got voice mail again. She sighed, deciding she’d rather leave him with at least some idea of why she’d called, in case he couldn’t get in touch with her right away. “It’s McKenna again. I’m sorry for yesterday, when I said I’d be fine on my own. The truth is, I like having you to bounce ideas off of. Forgive me? I figured some things out about the case...” She let her voice trail off as she approached a crossroads. “I’d rather talk about them in person, but you should know that I’m going to check out two more leads and if for some reason you need them, I’ve left a copy of my case notes in a box of Cheerios in my pantry.” She laughed at herself. “Yeah, I know, kind of random. But it was the best hiding place I could think of.”

Movement out of the driver’s-side window caught her eye, but not soon enough for it to do her any good. A car barreled toward her much faster than the speed limit allowed. McKenna winced, closing her eyes and stomping on the brakes simultaneously in the hopes of avoiding a collision or at least lessening the impact.

The crunch of metal on metal assaulted her ears as the seat belt caught her and bit into her skin. She gasped from the impact, which threw her into the door and then back.

She stayed still, almost holding her breath, not sure if it was because she was stunned or because she was trying to make sure she was okay. McKenna had no idea how much time passed as she sat there, hands still on the wheel with the deflated air bag between them. She only knew that she sat in the passenger seat blinking for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually she remembered the phone in her hand. Will wasn’t going to be thrilled when he got this voice mail.

“Sorry. I got in a little wreck. I think the guy might be drunk, because there’s no way he couldn’t have seen me.” She remained in her seat, waiting for the other driver to approach her.

But the person who stepped out of the other car was clad from head to toe in black. Complete with a ski mask.

It hadn’t been a drunk driver. Which could only mean the crash was deliberate.

Air whooshed out of her lungs as McKenna realized the man’s intent. “Not a drunk. He’s coming closer—this is about to be an abduction. He’s tall. Broad shoulders. Will, help me. Get those papers.”

The man jerked the door open and McKenna hung up the phone, shoving it in her pocket and praying it wouldn’t be found.

“Nice try,” a gravelly voice said with derision.

She tried to play dumb. “What?”

“You get it out, or I’ll get it for you. Understand?”

McKenna shivered. Slowly, she pulled the phone from her pocket, feeling as if she had no other choice, but at the same time as if she’d given away her only lifeline. She tried to think back to trooper academy. Was there any kind of training that would tell her what she was supposed to do in this situation? Nothing came to mind in the heat of the moment.

What would Luke tell her to do?

That was easy. Luke would have told her not to get into this mess in the first place. As though she’d had a choice.

Rough hands grabbed McKenna by the shoulders, hauled her out of the car and shoved her into the car that had hit her, all in one motion. The streets were oddly empty, not a single witness as far as she could tell. Her stomach churned and she felt her palms start to sweat.

She’d woken up this morning determined that this would be the day this case came to an end. And maybe it would be. But certainly not according to how she’d planned.

* * *

Will had asked Rick for a meeting, with plans to tell him he was quitting, and the other man had agreed. But it was past the time they’d set and Will hadn’t seen or heard from him.

He glanced down at the clock on his phone. Rick was twenty minutes late.

He’d always been a punctual guy. This wasn’t like him. Although he had been changing in the past few months.

Will glanced at his phone, noting the time. He hated to bother Rick’s desk again, guilt had gnawed at him after the last time he’d seen his calendar. But this was a dangerous place and they were in a dangerous business. He needed to check Rick’s schedule and see if he could figure out what might have delayed him and if he might need help.

A look at the calendar on his desk revealed nothing except what Will had already noted—that Rick had more free days, at least according to this, than he and Matt combined. Something about that still made him uncomfortable.

But this wasn’t helping him figure out where Rick could be. Will shuffled a stack of papers around, not sure what he was looking for but feeling suspicion bubble up inside him to a degree he could no longer ignore. Something was going on at Truman Hunting Expeditions.

When he moved the next stack of paper, something fell out and clanged to the floor. He picked up a live round of ammunition much too big for caribou hunting, which was what all of their scheduled hunts had been lately. Something this big could only be used for bears.

He returned the round to the desk, careful to put it back under the stack of papers. As he did so, his hand bumped something else. It was the cartridge from the same kind of bullet—this one had been fired already and the case kept.

Had Rick, so meticulous about keeping things in order, really left these on his desk since the last time they’d taken people out after grizzlies?

Suddenly the empty calendar, the empty rifle cartridge made sense in Will’s mind. Too much sense.

Rick was the one illegally hunting polar bears.

He dropped the rounds into his pocket, knowing he probably shouldn’t mess with evidence but afraid to leave them unsecured. He was almost to the door when he decided he’d better leave them as proof, but snapped a picture on his phone to document that they’d been there.

Will turned back toward the door and hustled out of the building. If Rick was the one hunting the polar bears that McKenna had been investigating, and Rick hadn’t made this meeting... The chances that these threads were tangling together in a way more dangerous than he’d imagined was high. Too high.

Things with McKenna and whoever was after her seemed to have escalated with the burning of the trooper post. The thought that whoever had caused the blaze—the police had ruled it arson—had meant for McKenna to be in it... He didn’t want to think about that. He just thanked God that she hadn’t been there.

As he climbed into his truck, Will noted a symbol on his phone saying he had a new voice mail. He hadn’t noticed any missed calls. Service up here was terrible sometimes, causing him to miss calls without notification. Most of the time it was mildly frustrating at worst.

Today it made a sick feeling churn in the pit of his stomach because every time his phone rang he wondered if it was McKenna and if she needed him. He pressed the voice mail button and waited for it to connect.

His thoughts wandered, drifting to the realization that he had been thanking God for a lot more things, it seemed, since McKenna had come back into his life. Will wasn’t sure if life was just better with her in it and there was more to praise God for, or if she just reminded him that life could be so much more colorful and full of joy than he made it sometimes.

“What do you want to do?”
McKenna’s questions from the other day, the sweet concern in her voice as she’d asked them, echoed in his mind. He didn’t think he’d realized until that moment how little time he’d taken for joy since Rachael had died. He’d accused McKenna of only focusing on work, but he’d done the same thing to an even worse degree and for worse reasons.

Will swallowed hard as he checked his voice mail. The message had been sent fifteen minutes ago. From McKenna.

As he listened to McKenna’s voice go from calm and informative to desperate and urgent, dread filled the pit of his stomach. He knew as she described the scene, before she seemed to realize it herself, that the car that hit her was no accident.

Whoever was after her had finally managed to get her. It may only have been fifteen minutes ago, but Will could already be fifteen minutes too late.

He gripped the steering wheel, the desire to investigate, to
find her,
overwhelming all other instincts. Will took a deep breath to steady himself, knowing this wasn’t the time to rely on only his skills. He knew this wilderness, knew Rick, but Captain Wilkins knew criminals, had the training to figure out where McKenna was. Especially if Will did as McKenna had asked and got her notes. He eased his grip. He’d call the North Slope Bureau Police department and Captain Wilkins, drive to her house to get those papers, find her and help her get this case solved, the way she’d wanted. Maybe see if Matt wanted to help, too.

He could only hope McKenna’s desire to solve the case didn’t outweigh her desire to get out of it alive.

* * *

The first thing McKenna’s mind registered was that her head was throbbing. The second was that she felt sick to her stomach. The third was that she was tied to a chair in a shack, her gun missing from the holster at her side.

Fourth and last, she realized that she was probably going to die today.

Her stomach churned. She’d been so close to making arrests and wrapping this entire thing up. She’d just needed to talk to a couple more people to confirm her suspicions. But sitting here in this little shack, which looked a lot like a hunting cabin, she was relatively certain her instincts had been right. Not that that did her any good now.

“Hello there. You’re awake.” Rick Truman’s too-slick smile greeted her as he stepped out from the shadows in the corner where he’d been standing.

Make that 100 percent certain her instincts had been right.

“Got bored killing innocent polar bears—illegally, I might add—and decide to move on to people?” she asked with disgust.

“Are you always so quick to jump to conclusions?” He shook his head. “What about innocent until proven guilty?”

The hair on the back of her neck prickled and something in the way his eyes gleamed made her shiver. “What do you mean?”

“Who’s to say I killed all those people?”

“Evidence seems to point that way.” It more than
seemed
to in McKenna’s opinion. She thought of the notes she’d left at her house. If she died out here, wherever she was, would Will be able to interpret her notes and pass them on to someone who could make sure justice was served?

“Circumstantial evidence.” He laughed. “And it just so happens that I didn’t kill them all.”

McKenna said nothing.

“Not going to ask? I was sure you had more curiosity than that.” More laughter. “Never mind, I’m going to tell you anyway. I’m assuming you know better than to think you’re getting out of here alive.”

She did know better.

“Yes, your eyes say that you understand. Good. See, those bodies you found on the tundra that first day? I didn’t kill them.”

“Excuse me?”

“Okay, that’s not entirely true. I killed one of them. The first died in a hunting accident. It was perfectly innocent. One of his hunting buddies... He’d had a little too much to drink on the way. He got sloppy and pointed a gun in the other man’s direction. It went off. He died instantly.” Something like regret flickered across his face. “The shooter was torn up inside. I said there were ways we could cover it up, that no one had to know it had been his fault. He insisted he had to come clean.” Regret was replaced by disdain. “He wouldn’t listen. Said he had to do ‘the right thing.’”

“So why did you care?” McKenna’s stomach rolled at the way he talked about these men, who were dead, partially if not entirely because of Rick.

He shrugged. “I’d already started taking people on polar bear hunts by then. I couldn’t afford to have the troopers snooping around because of a stupid accident and discovering that somehow. I needed that money! Besides, it’s a tough business, guided hunting. The economy has hit everyone hard. Truman Hunting Expeditions has been around for a while. We’re a reputable company. But all it takes is one hunting accident and tourists won’t touch your company with a ten-foot pole.”

McKenna could have said several things here, but she knew the man was far beyond taking responsibility for his actions. No wonder Will had seemed dissatisfied with his job and uncomfortable with how some things were handled.

“So I killed him.” She saw Rick swallow hard at the memory and wondered if there was still some level of humanness in him that she could use to her advantage later. “I shot him with the other man’s rifle and decided I’d get rid of the page from the log that showed they’d ever been on a trip with me. I put it away and figured if anyone ever came looking who knew for sure that they’d signed up with me, I could claim they never showed. With any luck, they’d never be found—and if they were, it would look like they’d gone out on their own and injured each other out of carelessness or anger. Something. Anything.” His voice rose in volume. McKenna noted that he hadn’t acted with too much of a clear plan when he’d gone to cover up his first murder. Would he be sloppy in his attempt to get rid of her? If so, it might give her a chance to get away. Or it could mean he was desperate.