Read Nothing gold can stay Online
Authors: Dana Stabenow
They both saw it at the same time. “There!
He pulled for shore with short, powerful strokes, and a moment later they were alongside. Liam shipped the oars while Wy fastened the bowline off to a cleat on the dock. She trotted up the dock, Liam right behind her, and they threaded their way up the path that followed the creek. Moments later they emerged into the clearing and there was the cabin. She paused just long enough to grin at him. “I told you we could make it.
He kissed her. He hadnt meant to, but he did it anyway. “Ill never doubt you again. He added, following her to the door, “Ill never fly into a storm with you again, either.
“I swear I hear voices, they heard someone say, and the door of the cabin opened as they walked up the steps.
Bill stood there, astonished. “What the hell are you two doing here? And how the hell did you get here?
TWENTY-ONE
Newenham, September 6
“Do you think the winds slowing down a little?
“In the last five minutes since you asked, no.
“Wys going to be seriously pissed if you break her computer.
Jim spared a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, please.
Jo, pacing restlessly back and forth across the living room of Wys house, glared at the back of his head as he sat hunched over the monitor. “What are you doing, anyway?
“Destroying your credit rating.
She halted. “What?
He grinned at the screen. “Relax, Dunaway, it was joke.
Suspiciously, she came to peer over his shoulder. “It better be. She squinted. “For gods sake. Isnt that the state troopers database?
“Yes.
“How did you get in?
“Talent, Dunaway, loads and loads of talent. He scrolled down.
“Liam gave you the password.
He snorted. “The perfect cop breaking faith with his own force? Give me a break.
“You hacked in? Jo glanced around nervously, as if expecting the FBI to break down the front door in the next moment. “You can get arrested for that.
“Theyll have to catch me first. He turned and they practically bumped noses. For that single moment, time seemed to stop. She could feel his breath on her face. He could see every separate dark blond lash on her eyelids. For a frozen moment, neither of them moved. Bridget and Luke, playing a noisy game of cribbage at the kitchen counter, seemed to fade from the room.
She jerked back, eyes wide with dismay.
“Well, well, he said, just as startled but quicker to recover.
“Well, well, nothing, she said. She took what she hoped was an unobtrusive step backward. “I asked you what you were looking at.
You, he thought. And now that I am, I wont stop until I get you. But he was a patient man, and there was a time and a place for everything. Not here, not now. But somewhere and soon. “Disappearances, he said, turning back to the computer.
“Disappearances? She took a cautious step forward, positioning herself so that she could just barely read the text on the screen over his shoulder, but far enough away to run if she had to. Not that she would, she wasnt a coward.
“Yeah.
“What disappearances?
“Women. Young women. Gone missing. All from the Bristol Bay area. Unconsciously, she took another step forward, and he smiled to himself when he felt her warmth at his shoulder.
“You mean like Rebecca Hanover?
“I mean exactly like Rebecca Hanover. He sat back. The fuzz of her sweater brushed the back of his head. She didnt notice. He did. “Last night at dinner you were talking about another woman who went missing.
“Stella Silverthorne.
“Yeah. Then Wy was talking about the daughter of the postmistress that got killed, what was her name...
Jos reportorial instincts were kicking in, the mental Rolodex whirring, click, stop. “Ruby Nunapitchuk.
“Yeah.
“I remember that story. The dad took the kids out hunting, right? Two sons and two daughters?
“Yeah, and lost one of the daughters.
“They never found the body.
“Nope. He nodded at the screen. “Bill Billington ruled on a presumptive death hearing the following spring. Accidental death due to misadventure. The parents filed an appeal, which was denied.
“What was the basis of their appeal?
“You ever talk to a magistrate about presumptive death hearings?
She shook her head.
“Nobody wants to believe in accidental death. Its tooits too
“Accidental? she suggested.
“Smart-ass, he said, “but yeah. You lose somebody you love, you want there to be a reason. He cant have fallen into a glacier, or off a boat, or down a mountain. Death cant be that random, that irrational, not for a lot of people.
“Makes sense.
“Ha, ha. Sit down with Bill sometime, get her to tell you some of the arguments surviving family members have put forward to vacate a judgment of accidental death. They come in two kinds: weird, and weirder. He was pushed into that glacier, he was dumped off that boat, he was tripped down that mountain. He was about to take over the glacier tour company, and the current owner bumped him off. He seduced the boat captains daughter, and the captain keelhauled him. The climb leader had designs on his body, and when he wouldnt put out, cut the rope between them.
“Sounds like a story. He shook his head in feigned exasperation at her single-mindedness. She grinned. Their eyes met. The grin faded. “Yes. Well. So you started looking up missing women.
“Women missing in the Bristol Bay area, he said. He tilted the chair back, coming solidly up against her, and linked his hands behind his head. She was still for a moment before moving back, but not that much back. His dark hair stood up in a rooster tail from repeated impatient pullings, and he was frowning behind his glasses. “It didnt hit me until last night, when you were telling us the story about Finn Grant and his lost hunting party, and how one of the women was never found. Interesting, I thought, two women missing in the Bush, same general area, only four years apart. Then I remembered what Wy said about the postmistresss daughter, and how she was lost eight years ago.
Jo was skeptical but interested. “Okay, how many of these women missing in the Bristol Bay area have you found?
He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees, frowning down at his clasped hands. “Seven. Altogether.
“Seven? Her tolerant smile and indulgent tone of voice vanished. One quick step had her back at his shoulder. “Show me.
He was more troubled by his discovery than he was triumphant at having piqued her interest. “I accessed the missing persons records for the judicial district for the last twenty-five years, which is as far back as theyve got in the data base. Ruby Nunapitchuk eight years ago, Stella Silverthorne five years ago, Rebecca Hanover four days ago.
“All women.
“All young women, he said. “Rebecca Hanover is thirty-two. Ruby Nunapitchuk was seventeen. Stella Silverthorne was twenty-six.
“Opal was fifty-six.
“Yeah, she was the oldest by about twenty years.
“She might not have looked her age, though, Jo said slowly. “Wait a minute. She rolled the chair back with him on it and pulled open the drawer. A pad of yellow sticky notes and a pen later, she shoved both back in.
“Just move me out of your way if Im in it, he said, ruffled.
She wasnt listening, staring instead at the map on Wys wall. “Okay, she said, scribbling. One sticky note with a name and a date went on the map at Nenevok Creek, another at Kagati Lake, a third at Weary River. “All right. Who else?
“I worked backwards, most recent reported disappearances first. Cheryl Montgomery disappeared right off of Four Lake two years ago. She was an experienced backwoodsman, too, someone you wouldnt think of getting lost.
Jo inspected the face smiling up at her from the monitor. “Shes lovely.
“Yeah. And lost.
“Okay. A fourth sticky note at Four Lake. “Who else?
“In 1992, Brandiwith an
i
Whitaker was mushing the Kuskokwim 500. She disappeared along with her whole team. Everybody figured theyd fallen into a lead. There wasnt much fuss; she didnt have much family and she wasnt that good a musher.
A fifth sticky note went up. “Next?
“In 1991, Ruby Nunapitchuk. Then back four years, and Kristen Anderson goes missing. Fishermans wife, out of Koggiling. She was alone at fish camp. When her husband came to pick her up, she was gone. Salmon on the drying racks, but the fire had been cold for at least a day. Again, there is no hint of foul play in the case file. They had a good reputation in Koggiling. Three kids, sober, well liked.
A sixth sticky note.
“And then as far back as Ive been so far, 1986, Paulette Gustafson.
“Same year as Whitaker?
“Yeah.
Then it hit her. “Gustafson?
“Yeah?
“As in former state senator Ted Gustafson?
“Yeah.
“Wy mentioned him. Hes on her mail route. The diabetic.
“Yeah.
“I cant believe she stayed missing for long.
“She still is, despite what looks like a full-scale search effort from everyone from the Alaska state troopers to the FBI.
“The FBI?
He shrugged. “There are references made to them; I havent tracked them down yet.
“What was she doing here?
“Visiting high school friends. She was a bit of a rounder, it sounds like. She and a group of her old high school buddies drove up to the One Lake campground, had from what all accounts say was one hell of a party, and when everybody woke up three days later to pack up and go home, Paulette Gustafson was missing.
“They never found her.
“Nope.
A seventh sticky note. Jo stood back and stared at the map, festooned now with what she considered to be entirely too many little yellow flags. “Seven in, what, twelve years?
“Thirteen. And this is only so far as we know, remember. Only what has made it into the trooper data bank.
Behind them, Bridget toted up some impossible score and pegged out, and suffered Lukes mock displeasure with a complacent air.
Jo took a deep, careful breath. “You mean
“I mean there might be more, he said bluntly. “How many little villages out there who never call the troopers if they can possibly help it? How many kids drown in the river without anybody ever knowing, with their people chalking it up to Maniilaq or whatever malevolent spirit happens to be flitting through at that time of year? A lot of these folks havent made it into the twentieth century yet, Jo, never mind the twenty-first.
She stared at the map, her skin cold. “Seven women, all young, all disappeared within sixty miles of one another, all within the space of thirteen years. She looked at him. “How can no one have noticed?
He shook his head. “None of them are related. Half of them are from Anchorage. Four, five of them were engaging in high-risk activities, hunting, canoeing, mushing. Youre a reporter, Jo, youve written enough stories about this kind of thing, you know it happens.
She pointed, one at a time. “Paulette Gustafson, 1986. Same year, Kristen Anderson. A five-year gap between her and Ruby Nunapitchuk in 1991. A year after her, Brandi Whitaker. Two years after Brandi, Stella Silverthorne. Three years after Stella, Cheryl Montgomery.
“And now, two years later, Rebecca Hanover.
They stared at the map in silence for a moment. The shuffle of cards and the murmur of voices behind them seemed very far away.
She looked at him, her eyes glittering. “Seven times is a serial killer, Jim. We need to talk to Liam.
He looked past her out the window. “Right about now, he should be busting up the party at Old Man Creek. If Wy managed to get them down without wrecking the plane.
Jo didnt even bristle. “Then lets go see Prince.
Old Man Creek, September 6
“Wheres Tim? Wy shoved past Liam into the cabin. Tim was sitting at the table, across from Amelia, one hand full of cards, his mouth open as he stared up at Wy. She felt a sense of overwhelming relief sweep over her, a relaxation of a thrumming, all-consuming tension she didnt even know she had been experiencing. She didnt miss a step, she walked straight to him and pulled him up into her arms. “Oh, Tim, she said, rocking him a little. “Oh, Tim.
He squirmed in her embrace. “Mom, cmon. He slanted a sideways look at the girl across the table.
Liams eyes went to the woman lying in the bunk. “Who is that? he said sharply.
She didnt stir, but Bill snapped, “Keep your voice down.
“Who is it?
“We dont know. She staggered in here about four hours ago and passed out.
Liam nudged Wy. “Is that her?
She tore her eyes from Tim and walked over to the bunk to look down into the womans face. “Yes. This is Rebecca Hanover.
“Is that her name? Bill said.
“Is she armed? Liam said.
Moses surveyed him with an irritated expression. “ Is she armed? Shes damn near dead, is what she is.
“Her husband is dead. Murdered. Blasted away with a shotgun.
They all looked at Rebecca Hanover. Her eyes moved restlessly beneath closed lids. Her skin was waxen, her hair tangled with twigs and pine needles. She whimpered a little, stirred, one hand half raised in a protective gesture. They could see the broken nails, the dried blood and dirt beneath them. One shoulder was bandaged. She subsided again into an uneasy sleep.
“Sanctuary, Tim said.
Everyone turned to look at him. He flushed. “Thats what she said. Its the only thing she said after we got her into the bed. Sanctuary.
“Whats that mean? Amelia said.
“In olden times, Tim said, “people who were being chased could run into a church and the cops couldnt get them. Sanctuary. I read about it in a book once, he added.
“Oh. Amelia had never read anything that hadnt been assigned as homework. “Could bad guys run into the church, too?
Tim looked at Bill. “Yes, she said. “Bad guys could run into the church, too.
Amelia looked at Rebecca Hanover, and with the devastating single-mindedness of the young said, “So just because they ask for sanctuary doesnt mean they didnt do it.