Cold as Hell (Haven’s Rock #3)

Chapter Twenty-Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

We’re in Dawson City. Getting there isn’t as easy as it might seem. The airport is fifteen kilometers from downtown, and there’s no car rental agency. Taxi service is nonexistent off-season. Luckily, we do business here so often that we have a car stored nearby with people willing to make a few bucks driving us to it.

By the time we reach our hotel, the snow has died down enough for us to stash our bags in our hotel room and take Storm for a walk.

As much as we love Haven’s Rock, it’s wonderful to escape it now and then. Oh, sure, it’s nice to see a different landscape and tread new trails and indulge in all the luxuries of urban life. Hot running water! Fresh veggies in winter! More than one restaurant to choose from! But mostly, I enjoy the chance to just be a woman out for a walk with her guy and her dog. We aren’t “in charge” here. We can be ordinary and invisible people, and that is glorious.

We walk from one end of the town to the other. That sounds more impressive if I don’t admit it’s about a mile. Dawson City is a unique town. Some might say “odd,” but in the Yukon, that goes without saying. Dawson is known for its role in the Klondike gold rush and all the ways the town holds tight to that heritage, particularly for tourism.

There are only a handful of streets, in a near-perfect grid pattern. Along the main ones, most of the buildings date back to the gold rush. Dirt roads. Wooden sidewalks. False-front buildings that look straight out of a Western.

This being the tourism off-season, a lot of the shops and restaurants are closed, but I can still get a decaf latte—made with real milk—and some bakery treats. We grab necessities for the night—cold drinks, water, snacks—and then head back to the hotel.

After spending the flight mulling over my case, I’m itching to talk to émilie, but I don’t want to make that call around Dalton. He’ll be going out in an hour or so to pick up dinner, so I’ve only texted her to say I need to speak again. At the hotel, I indulge in a long hot bath in an actual bathtub. By the time I’m done, Dalton is ready to talk dinner. We do that and call in an order, and then he takes Storm to go get it, leaving me to phone émilie.

“I need to ask about another resident’s background,” I say. “I don’t need details on why he’s in Haven’s Rock. I won’t ask for the story of everyone I consider a suspect.”

“But you could, Casey,” émilie says, with obvious patience. “I know you and Eric think it’s important not to know resident stories for their privacy, but I believe you are overthinking that. You are no longer council employees. This is your town.”

“I know, but we feel better keeping that wall in place wherever possible. We promised them that no one in town would know their backstory unless absolutely necessary.”

“And I have suggested we reword that to exclude management. But this is a discussion for another time. You and Eric have a suspect.”

I hesitate. Then I say, “I have one, and I’m being especially careful because…” I inhale. “It feels like a long shot. Eric is friendly with this person. We both are. And they don’t match the profile of someone who commits a murder like this, if we’re looking at a serial killer.”

“A what?”

I back up to tell her about my talk with Mathias.

“I understand the logic,” she says, “but I think you’re going to need to look more closely at this being a case of horrible revenge. The checks we perform are so thorough that I cannot imagine we’ve let in a serial killer. If my investigator finds any history of violence, they stop immediately and that person is removed from consideration.”

“What if there’s never been any recorded history?”

“How often does that happen, Casey? That a serial killer turns out to have no red flags in their past? Never been investigated, charged, or even disciplined in school for violence?”

“The chances are extremely slim. But I’m having a very hard time seeing this as a vengeance killing. Lynn did work in the justice system, and she was sure to have pissed people off, even without the whistleblowing. Let’s say they reopened that expert’s cases and some guy’s not-guilty verdict is being questioned. Would that make him put a bomb in her car? Maybe. Would it make him somehow manage to track her down to Haven’s Rock—despite all our precautions and security measures—sneak into town, find her, lure her out, and horribly murder her? No.”

“Agreed. This isn’t about vengeance for something she did down south. Now just tell me who you want to know about.”

I take a deep breath. “Marlon.”

“Marlon?”

At her tone, I wrap the hotel bathrobe as far as it’ll stretch around my belly. “I know. He’s a very unlikely suspect, which is why I’m being careful about saying anything in front of Eric. I like Marlon. We all do. I cannot imagine him doing something like this.”

“But…”

“He was our only eyewitness. He says he saw Lynn being escorted by someone he believed to be Sebastian. He based his ID of Lynn on her scarf, which someone else has pointed out—correctly—that she wore inside her jacket. This other eyewitness says there was a greater height differential between the two figures—significant enough that they automatically identified it as a man and a woman, unlike Marlon’s description.”

I take a deep breath. “However, none of that means Marlon lied. If Lynn were in a hurry, she might have wrapped her scarf on the outside. The larger figure may have been hunched into the wind, making them look closer to Lynn’s height when Marlon spotted them. And the second witness didn’t see anything to identify the smaller figure as Lynn, which is why they didn’t come forward—they thought they may have seen someone else.”

“Yet now that the question has been raised, you need to investigate.”

“Yes.”

“Because you’re a detective, Casey. And a damn good one who chases answers even when it’s uncomfortable and inconvenient. All right then. I think I might be able to put your fears to rest easily, given Marlon’s service record. He served nearly two decades in the military, only leaving it recently, and the majority of that time was spent overseas. I won’t specify which branch he worked in or what he did, but it wasn’t frontline. He worked in a support capacity. I don’t know whether that makes a difference to your profiling—the fact he had a desk job.”

“Was he traveling, though?” I ask. “That’d make it easy to hide a pattern of violence. Or a trail of victims.”

“No, he was stationed in only a few places, and his records in all of them were spotless. He never married, but he did have a few long-term relationships, with no hints of trouble. I will still run deeper checks on the places he was stationed, looking for unsolved murders, but I would expect, if he were a serial killer, he would have requested more travel, which he did not. He preferred to settle into an area for as long as possible.”

“What about the non-serial-killer option? Can we check for overlap between him and Lynn? When he was back home, did they live in the same region? Work in the same field? Is there any chance that he was connected to her job—as someone affected by her work. Could they have been here together by coincidence and he recognized her? Is there anything that might have brought them into contact?”

Clicking sounds across the line, as if she’s typing. “At this stage in recruitment, we’re actively avoiding residents from the same region. Of course, if we had two critical cases from the same area, I’d allow it, particularly if their trouble hadn’t been newsworthy. But both Lynn’s and Marlon’s situations received local media coverage, which means I would have flagged a potential privacy issue. I am double-checking, though.… No, they lived nearly on opposite coasts. There’s no overlap in employment. I will dig deeper, of course, and have my investigator do the same. But I think it might also help to know Marlon’s story. I know you didn’t want that.”

I check my watch. Dalton will be back any moment. “If it will help, go ahead.”

“I think it will, and I think it will also explain why I’m expressing significant doubt at the thought of him killing Lynn, certainly in such a way. Marlon had become involved with a woman. It was, in his words, a casual relationship. They met at work. This woman had recently left another relationship with a man who… While there was no clear history of abuse, her partner was known to be violent in general.”

“Ah.”

“He had a lengthy police record. When he discovered his ex-girlfriend was involved with Marlon, he went after Marlon. There were several encounters, one of which required police involvement, but the reports make it clear that Marlon did no more than defend himself. By this point, Marlon was no longer even seeing the woman. Yet the attacks continued. Then he was kidnapped at gunpoint by two men. He managed to escape. The ex-boyfriend had an alibi, and so he couldn’t be charged, though my investigator says even the police have no doubt he ordered the kidnapping, which was likely a hired hit. Luckily, the men the ex-boyfriend hired were less than competent.”

“They usually are.”

“At that point, though, Marlon didn’t want to rely on ineptitude to keep him safe. He reached out for help through another organization, which is where we found him.”

“And the fact that he was the victim suggests he’s not my killer,” I say. “I’d agree with that assessment. I can’t imagine someone coming up here to escape persecution that they could have resolved, which they could if they were a violent killer themselves.”

“Yes. While Marlon was in the military, and he’s certainly physically capable of defending himself, he did only that. He defended himself when attacked. He escaped when kidnapped. But he did not seek to eliminate the threat, which I presume your killer would have.”

A sound at the door, as if Dalton is there with his key card.

“Eric’s back,” I say. “I’ll let you go. Thank you for this.”

“I will check into overlap between Marlon and Lynn. Just in case. But I really don’t expect to find anything.”

Neither do I, but I appreciate her checking. I say so and sign off as Dalton comes in with dinner.

We eat on the bed while watching TV, which is another indulgent luxury of being away from home. Sure, we could eat in bed at Haven’s Rock. We could even bring the laptop up to the bedroom and play a recorded show. But it’s not the same as lounging in a king-size bed watching a giant screen and not worrying—apologies to the hotel staff—about getting pizza sauce on the sheets.

I have no urge to tell Dalton about my suspicions regarding Marlon. I’ve already sent Marlon back down the suspect ladder far enough that I’ll only reconsider him if something comes up. So we eat pizza and watch TV, and then watch more TV, taking full advantage of having access to streaming services.

It’s nine when my phone rings. Dalton has gone to take the pizza boxes downstairs to the trash, and when my cell shows a blocked number, I know it’s Anders because we’d planned a pre-bedtime call. I also realize he doesn’t know we aren’t in Whitehorse.

I answer and start to explain, but he cuts me off with, “I already got the 411 from your husband. He called me on his way to grab pizza. I told him to send me one, but apparently, he didn’t think the delivery drivers would travel this far.”

“Kids these days. No sense of adventure.”

“Yep. I’ll just need to schedule a trip after you guys settle in with the little one.” That’s another huge advantage to Haven’s Rock for our staff—they can actually take getaways and vacations.

Anders updates me on the situation in town, which I presume he’d also done with Dalton, though the version I get is slanted more toward the case rather than security measures. As for security, there’s a dusk-to-dawn curfew in place as well as a buddy system that ensures someone has seen every resident both at the end of the day and the beginning. While they’ve had a bit of snow, there hasn’t been a storm, but if one hits, it’ll be a lockdown with those buddy checks in place.

As for the case… There’s nothing for him to tell me. Everything has been quiet, and no one has come forward with extra information. On that note, though, I need to ask Anders to do something tomorrow.

“I did have a last-minute report of a couple being seen the day of the storm,” I say. “It doesn’t match Marlon’s, which means they probably saw someone else. Can you and Yolanda canvass, though?” I give him the approximate time and location. “Just see whether two people were out at that time and place. They may not have mentioned it in interviews because they didn’t see anything, but I’d like to strike this potential sighting off the list.”

“Got it. Oh, and we’ve released Grant, but he’s staying with Kenny. Is there anyone else you want us keeping an eye on?”

I hesitate. Then I say, “Between us? Mathias.”

A long pause. Then, “That’s not a joke, right? I mean, in general, I think we all need to keep an eye on Mathias, but you mean in conjunction with this case.”

“It’s a long shot, but he fits the basic figure of the person Marlon saw with Lynn, and he’d have access to easily frame Sebastian.”

“If you’ve considered the possibility, we should keep an eye on him. I’ll do it personally and keep mum. Anyone else?”

I hesitate. Do I mention Marlon? I’ve mostly dismissed him, but Anders just said that if I’ve considered a possibility, he needs to be aware of it. And yet… He’s friends with Marlon. Do I risk damaging their relationship by pointing a finger?

No, the real question is whether I trust Anders to be a competent law-enforcement agent who can separate those things. The answer to that goes without question.

“Like I said, I have a potential witness sighting that contradicts Marlon’s,” I say. “So as much as I hate to even mention this…”

“Got it. No worries. Marlon’s been helping with security, and that’s keeping him front and center. Makes it easy to keep an eye on him.”

I exhale. “Thank you. Again, it’s a long shot, and I hated to mention it.”

“Don’t ever hesitate, Case. We’ve both had to suspect friends… and sometimes been right to do it, sadly. Everything’s under control here. What time do you plan to fly out tomorrow?”

Dalton returns at that moment, and I put the phone on speaker as we discuss our plans for the next day.