Thin Ice Read online

Page 16


  I could never write a book. I have no imagination, he’d said.

  Sometimes it feels like all I have is imagination, I’d responded.

  Maybe that was part of my current problem. If my imagination wasn’t so busy all the time, maybe the flashbacks and memories would slow down. Also, maybe I wouldn’t be able to write any longer either. Everything’s a trade-off.

  “Beautiful,” I breathed as I looked at the far horizon. “Terrifying too.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  A rise of land made a hill up from the beach. Half a dozen or so small houses appeared that couldn’t be seen until we came around a curve.

  “Huh. I would never have guessed,” I said.

  The houses were all bright colors—red, yellow, green, and blue. A number of cars and trucks were parked willy-nilly around the houses. There were no concrete driveways or sidewalks, but gravel and dirt walkways and parking spaces seemed purposefully placed.

  My eyes went to the oldest truck. Parked in front of a yellow house, the truck had probably been red at one time. Now, it was faded, rusted, and spotty with paint. My heart swooned and I hoped that was the truck we were coming to talk about.

  “That’s it.” Donner nodded to the truck.

  “If it gets me around, it will be perfect.”

  “I agree. Come on.”

  As we stepped out of Donner’s truck, I noticed movement in the window of a blue house.

  “I think we’re being watched,” I said.

  “Of course. And discussed, and then later gossiped about. You and I might be an item by the end of the day. Particularly if Benny hears we were together.” He rolled his eyes.

  The gravel crunched underneath our feet, but the noise was muffled by ocean sounds. The waves coming ashore weren’t big, but they hit hard, bringing windy roars and foamy splashes.

  “You okay?” Donner said.

  I blinked and looked at him. “Sorry, just taking in the sights.”

  I’d seen the ocean before, but that one was on the east coast of the lower forty-eight and populated with umbrellas and sunscreen. This one was so abandoned, seemingly untouched, I wondered if prehistoric fossils stuck up from the sand.

  “It’s something,” Donner said. He turned and continued toward the house. I followed.

  Donner knocked on the door. “Ruke. Hey, buddy, we’re here about the truck.”

  The door opened a moment later, slowly and without a person on the other side.

  Donner looked at me. “Come on in. You might see something weird in here, but you’ll get used to these things.” He turned and I followed him in.

  I was more curious than concerned, and then I tried not to gag.

  “Ruke, man, what is that smell?” Donner’s arm came up to cover his nose.

  I plugged mine with my fingers.

  “Oh, sorry. It’s … well, it’s a dead loon,” Ruke said.

  The house was dark, the smell making the space feel even smaller than it probably was. Ruke’s features were difficult to distinguish, but I could tell he was tall with wide shoulders. I wished I could see his face better but it was hidden in shadows.

  “How do you stand it?” Donner asked.

  Ruke’s wide shoulders shrugged. “It was worse with the beavers, I suppose.”

  “We’re going to have to go talk outside.” Donner turned and directed me to lead the way.

  I didn’t need to be told twice. Once out, I gulped in some of the cool ocean air, but I tried not to overreact. I didn’t want to offend anyone, but particularly someone who knew herbs. I might need this guy. Hopefully not for something dead loons or beavers would cure, but he still might be better than Dr. Powder.

  After a couple of deep breaths, I turned around again to face the men.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Ruke said. “So you know, I don’t kill them. I found them dead.”

  He looked younger than his thirties. His wide-set eyes glimmered with intelligence, or maybe that was wisdom. His dark skin was smooth and his dark ponytail fell past his shoulders.

  “It’s fine, Ruke. I understand. This is Beth Rivers,” Donner said. “She’d like to buy your sister’s truck. Beth, this is Amaruq, Ruke.”

  The introductions were oddly out of place, even in this only place where they could happen. A surprising wave of peace filled my chest as I looked into Ruke’s kind eyes.

  “Beth Rivers. Where are you from?” Ruke asked.

  “Denver. I’m in Alaska for a while and I need transportation.”

  Ruke looked over his shoulder at the truck and then back at me. “You could do better in Juneau.”

  “Does it run?”

  “Yes, it runs well.” He studied me again, but the peace I felt was beginning to transform into uneasiness. What was he seeing?

  “I’ll take it.”

  “You haven’t driven it. You haven’t even asked how much,” Ruke said.

  “Donner said about a thousand. That work?”

  “Half that.”

  I smiled. “You drive a hard bargain. If it doesn’t start, deal off, okay?”

  He didn’t smile back. “What happened to you?”

  “Oh.” I put my hand on my cheek, the side with the scar. It was an oddly feminine gesture but only because I consciously stopped my hand from making it up to the scar. I curled my fingers into a fist and lowered it to my side. I’d forgotten the hat and I kept forgetting what I looked like. In the midst of the moment, a ripple of humor made a smile pull at my mouth again. “I fell off a horse.”

  Ruke nodded but I sensed he didn’t believe me.

  “Let’s take a look at the truck,” Donner said as he turned and walked toward the vehicle.

  “Sure,” Ruke said as his eyes squinted at my scar.

  I sent him a quick smile and then followed Donner.

  The truck was far worse inside than anything my grandfather had ever driven. The upholstery was worn thin, except for the spots where it was worn all the way through, white fuzzy stuffing and a wire or two sprung up from the bench seat in the middle. Two people could sit on the bench; if they each stayed well on their sides, they wouldn’t be impaled.

  “I don’t think the odometer works,” Ruke said.

  “Is that legal?” I asked.

  Ruke and Donner looked at each other and shrugged.

  I peered at the odometer. 298695. “Does it really run?”

  “It did last time I tried it. Jump on in and start ’er up.”

  I held out my hand for the keys.

  “They’re in there,” Ruke said. “Didn’t want to risk losing them in the house.”

  I hopped in and turned the key. It purred to life quickly and easily and sounded great.

  “New tires,” Ruke added.

  The tires were worth the price of the truck.

  “Want to drive it a little?” Donner asked.

  “Nope. It’ll do.”

  The transaction was quick and painless. Ruke transferred the title to my name. I thought Donner seemed extra curious to see what I wrote on the buyer’s line. As I printed Beth Rivers, I was once again glad for my mother’s advice about the pen name. And then I had a stab of guilt that I hadn’t called her yet.

  I gave him the money, and he gave me back a hundred, bringing the total down to four hundred dollars.

  “It wouldn’t be right to take more,” he said.

  “Like I said, you drive a hard bargain. Thank you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You know how to get back to town?” Donner asked.

  There was only one choice, I thought. Well, that or into the ocean. “I think so.”

  “Good. You have my number. I need to get back to it.”

  “Thanks, Donner,” I said to him as he took quick steps to his truck.

  Once again, I’d interrupted his day, but I was thrilled to have wheels. I turned to get into my own vehicle, but Ruke took hold of my arm.

  My initial reaction was to yank it away, but the old, polite me surface
d and I just looked up at him.

  He pulled his hand away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have something to tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand this completely, but I’m an intuitive.”

  “I know what that is. It’s kind of a psychic.”

  “Kind of, but not really.” He took a step back away from me and placed his hand on his chest. “I was taught by my grandfather, but part of his lessons was about learning to listen to and understand our intuition. I sense things.”

  “And what do you sense about me? What do you need to tell me?”

  “I sense a lot about you, and I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. It’s not as if I can see anything specific, but I know you are hurting. You were hurt.”

  I nodded slowly, but I wasn’t going to tell him what happened. I didn’t think he really expected me to.

  Ruke sighed. “I have a strong sense that you should stay away from the bay.”

  “The Glacier Bay park?”

  “The bay itself. Many people kayak over the water. You should not.”

  “Oh. That’s not even a possibility. I’ve never done anything like that. I never would. I have a healthy fear of the water.”

  Ruke nodded. “That is good, but if you are here for very long, you might be tempted. Do not ride the water in the bay. In fact, stay out of it completely.”

  I crossed my heart. “I promise.”

  We locked eyes and I worked to read my own intuition. Was this guy blowing smoke? Was he taking advantage of the new girl in town, using some Tlingit tricks on me?

  “I’ll be careful,” I said.

  I moved farther back from him. He wasn’t in my space too much, but it felt invaded, nevertheless.

  “Good.” He took a step backward. “Thank you for buying the truck. I think my sister will be happy you are the one who will be driving it. She loved this truck.” He smiled playfully. “She almost didn’t marry her husband because he didn’t want her to take the truck to their marriage.”

  I smiled back. “Hopefully, she made the right choice.”

  “So far. But time will tell.”

  “I’m not giving the truck back if she gives the husband back.”

  “Then, she’d be even happier you got it. You are committed.”

  I smiled. “Nice to meet you, Ruke. Thank you.” I got into the truck and pulled the door shut. The window crank fell off and onto the floor. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it in front of Ruke, so I just slipped it out of the way with my toe.

  “Be safe,” Ruke said.

  I turned the key and backed out of the gravel driveway. As I put it into Drive and took off toward the road Donner had brought me down, I felt another layer of freedom. Any freedom was sweeter after it had been taken away.

  As I turned out onto the main road, I realized there were no other vehicles in sight. There were no dwellings, no people. I veered the truck around and faced the ocean. I wasn’t sure how I’d get the window back up with the crank sitting under the seat, but I’d worry about that later. I was glad it was currently down as I turned the engine off.

  I was alone. I could see no one and nothing other than the waves in front of me, the ball of the sun as it was rising. Trees amid foliage that mingled with the sandy, rocky beach. It was an unwelcoming beach, but that was okay. I was alone. At that moment, the entire human population could disappear and I wouldn’t be witness to its demise. Like an explorer on a different planet, I could be by myself. Without anyone else. Without Levi Brooks.

  “He’s not here. He’s not going to find me here,” I said to myself. Just when I thought I’d moved forward, something rose inside me, reminding me of evil and horror and making me so very scared. Could I ever face what had happened head-on? Would that help? The world was still turning and I was still on it. Far away from Levi Brooks.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Could I remember if I really tried? Relaxed in a place where I was alone?

  I took my mind back to the moment Levi had knocked on the door. I answered it and then things happened so quickly.

  I’d looked out at the van. In fact I’d seen the license plate but none of the letters or numbers had stuck with me. It was still a blur.

  The trip to the van, me screaming and yelling and kicking and … biting. My eyes flew open. “I bit his hand.”

  I could taste it now. I could taste his skin, his blood, the grime of him.

  I bit hard. I drew blood. I rubbed my tongue on the roof of my mouth as if trying to taste him again, as if that would help in any way. It wouldn’t.

  But maybe he had an injury? I closed my eyes. Yes, he’d had to bandage his hand later. I could remember his hand over my mouth at some point later, stopping my screams.

  Don’t you even think about biting me again. I can make this worse, you know.

  His hot breath in my ear. His Southern, alcohol-infused drawl.

  My stomach roiled, but I knew I was just remembering. It wasn’t happening now. And, I bit him! I had hurt him. A small ripple of satisfaction ran through me.

  I didn’t know if this new information would mean anything at all to the investigation, but I would let Detective Majors know. It might not be an important piece of the puzzle, but it was a piece nonetheless.

  “Okay, what happened after him getting me into the van, after biting him?” My eyes were still closed.

  He threw me in the back. I could hear the clink of the back door locks. I think I tried to scramble up to the front, but he made it around to the driver’s side door before I could get much of anywhere. Once he was inside the van, he pushed me, forcing me to fall back hard. I hit my head and saw stars. I remembered the pain.

  You are mine, might as well not fight it.

  He pulled out a syringe. In my mind’s eye, the needle was huge, oversized, but I knew it had just been a regular-sized syringe. Had I really seen it or had my head been hurting too much to open my eyes and I was now just guessing?

  And then my memory began to sputter. With my eyes closed, I gripped the steering wheel and gritted my teeth.

  “Face it. Look at it.”

  As he held the syringe with one hand, he flipped me over onto my stomach with his other one and sat on my back. Still, I squirmed and kicked and yelled.

  “No,” I muttered, but now I couldn’t let myself stop remembering.

  Another part of me was working to remind myself that memories couldn’t hurt me. I was free. I was free.

  And then I felt the sting of a needle in my neck. My world went black.

  In my new truck, in the now, the place where I was an explorer on a different planet, I opened my eyes and tried to slow both my breathing and my heart rate. I pounded on the steering wheel. I yelled, I screamed. I cried. How had I not fought him off?

  I propelled myself out of the truck and threw up on the side of the road. It was all so fresh still. It was the freshest of hells. I hiccupped as the phrase ran through my mind.

  I looked out at the endless ocean and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Goddammit, I wasn’t in that van anymore! I wasn’t with that monster.

  But for now, I decided to be done remembering.

  Twenty

  Though the ME had concluded that Linda Rafferty killed herself, and though I leaned toward believing her conclusion, Gril still didn’t. I didn’t think it was because he didn’t want to, because he was fond of Linda. Something else was keeping him doubtful, and that felt like something I could put my energy and expertise toward looking into. Well, my police secretarial expertise was certainly outdated, but I knew how to research. I was also the voice of the Benedict Petition, as it was. I had a duty to investigate and report.

  And now I had a truck.

  If I boiled it down to the brass tacks of the whole thing, I wanted to think about something other than myself, and my curious nature decided what I should do.

  I steered the truck to a parking spot outside the
Glacier Bay National Park lodge, where the visitors’ center was on the top floor, and the restaurant on the bottom floor. There were no glaciers in sight, but through the woodsy surroundings as I walked along a deck, I could spy a ship out in a bay, docked and welcoming a line of tourists. I guessed the ship would take its passengers to the glaciers.

  I didn’t see any kayakers, but the ship might have been blocking them. I wouldn’t be interested in kayaking anywhere, no matter what Ruke had said, but I wouldn’t mind a trip on that ship to see the glaciers. Next time I saw him, I’d ask Ruke if he thought that would be safe. The only ice I’d experienced so far in Alaska were my icy palms whenever the fear pumped up my adrenaline. I would see glaciers soon, I promised myself.

  A chill raised goose bumps along my arms. Though the setting for the lodge was woodsy, in between it and the beach, there was a walking path. It stretched both directions as far as I could see. To my left was another small building, but I couldn’t tell what it housed. To my right, I spotted two totem poles and buildings that reminded me of modern versions of Native American longhouses. Along with the glaciers, I hoped to explore the walking path too. But I had other things to do today. I turned away from the view and made my way inside, dodging more tourists.

  I climbed the stairs. The visitors’ center was crowded with people asking questions and looking through brochures. Time-line pictures lined a wall, racks held souvenirs and books. As curious as I was about the history of my new home, I only scanned the pictures along the wall.

  I spied one woman behind a counter who wasn’t currently helping anyone. She was reading a copy of the Juneau newspaper, the Juneau Empire, and I realized it might have been wise to have already taken a closer look at the Empire, as the voice of the Petition and all. If nothing else, I had a way to begin a conversation.

  “Hi,” I said as I approached her. “I’m Beth Rivers. I’m new in town and it looks like I’m taking Bobby Reardon’s job at the Petition.”

  “Okay,” she said when I didn’t continue.

  Her smooth, dark skin reminded me of Ruke’s, and her brown eyes were surrounded by lashes so thick, I was momentarily jealous.