Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
B rock could barely wait to get his brother alone, which would happen soon. The drive to the Randsom home passed in silence, and it came as no surprise to find the homestead deserted for the day. The clear, sunny day invited time spent on a four-wheeler or snowmobile.
Ophelia noted the deserted place with her lips pursed and then had been quiet all the way back to town. After lunchtime, Brock walked behind her up Flossy’s front steps, and the older woman met them at the door.
“I heard you got shot at again last night,” Flossy said, looking up, her eyes wide.
Ophelia nodded. “I did.” She sounded more resigned than frightened. “Are there any places for rent in town? I should stay somewhere else.”
“Don’t be silly.” Flossy took her arm and pulled her inside. “We have good locks, and I own a shotgun. You know how to shoot, right?”
Ophelia smiled. “Yes, I know how to shoot. I don’t want to put you in danger, Flossy.”
Brock followed the women inside, where heat blasted him. He wanted Ophelia back in his bed. They’d started something, and he didn’t want it to end. What did she want?
“I can make you two a late lunch if you want,” Flossy offered, wrapping her gray cardigan tighter around her small waist. “The station was boring with both of you gone, and Amos is in a mood, so I came home for the afternoon.” She squinted up at Brock. “I hope that’s okay.”
He wasn’t the damn sheriff. “You can do anything you want, Flossy.” Why couldn’t he get through to everyone? Oh, yeah. Maybe because he kept acting like the sheriff just to protect a tall agent who smelled like strawberries. He battled between his need for her and his loyalty to his brothers, a dull ache settling in his gut. His appetite deserted him.
Flossy bounced back on her fur-lined boots. “Good. Olly, why don’t you take the afternoon off, too? There’s a quilting party this afternoon over at Delores’s house, and nobody will know you’re there, so you won’t get shot at. Let’s go have some girl fun.”
“No,” Brock said, keeping his wet boots on the mat.
Ophelia turned to face him, her eyes so blue it hurt to look at them. “Why do you keep trying to protect me?”
Because of how she looked at him when he did—like he was some damn hero. He’d stopped being a hero years ago—if he had been one even then. But the way she studied him with softness and vulnerability in her eyes made him want to be one again. Plus, the woman needed some serious cover, and he could provide that. “You need to be careful until we find the shooter.”
Flossy smacked him on the arm. “She’s fine. Nobody will know she’s with me. It’s not like she’s a regular at the quilting parties.”
Well, that was true.
Then Flossy turned to Olly and sweetened the deal. “Loretta Randsom will be there. Don’t you want to talk to her about Tammy Randsom’s disappearance?”
Ophelia went on full alert. “I really do. Definitely.”
Brock knew when he was outnumbered. “All right. I’ll take you both to Delores’s house and then pick you up. What time will you be finished?” He reached for Flossy’s jacket on the nearest hook.
“Right after supper.” The elderly woman shrugged into the coat and then looked at him, her chin firming. “You’re being awfully bossy, Sheriff. What exactly happened between you two last night? I know you stayed at your cabin.” She buttoned up, looking from him to Ophelia and then back. She plucked a huge bag off the floor. “Not that it’s any of my business.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Brock opened the door and ushered both women outside, scanning the neighborhood for threats. He caught sight of Christian on the other side of the street and made a sign that they needed to talk.
Christian strode around the building and across the road, jumping into the back of the truck with his canine companion.
Ophelia helped Flossy into the front seat and then took the back seat next to Christian, reaching out to rub the wolf-dog’s ears as he sat on Christian’s lap.
Life was getting weird.
“We’re dropping the ladies off at Delores’s.” Brock sat and started the engine.
Christian nodded, already taking point out the window.
Whoever had shot at them had done so under the cover of darkness, and it was doubtful they would try it during daylight when Brock could track them.
Ophelia’s phone buzzed, and she lifted it from her pocket to look at the screen. “I have to take this.” Then she pushed a button and pressed the phone to her ear. “Spilazi.”
Curiosity had Brock watching her expression in the rearview mirror while also keeping an eye on the snowy road.
She looked out the window. “No, sir. Yes, I filed the first report yesterday afternoon before heading to the Randsoms, but a shooter engaged me and I didn’t make it to interview them. No, we don’t know. Yes, at the bottom of the river.” Her shoulders slumped. She must be talking about the gun she’d lost.
He tried to smile at her through the mirror, but her gaze remained outside.
She straightened in her seat. “No, sir. I’ve interviewed all four of them. So far, there isn’t a likely suspect.”
Christian tensed but didn’t look at her. Hank’s case truly mattered to her boss.
Brock fully turned back to the road.
She continued. “I’m well aware of that, sir.” Then, she fell quiet for several moments. “I’ll send those so you have them first thing in the morning. Yes. I understand. I’m still waiting for work history on Tamara Randsom, and would you please have somebody conduct a search for any payments made to her and to Hank Osprey by EVE? Also, I need a deep dive on odd killings in this area, all of Alaska really, where the victim had their eyes gouged out.”
Brock barely bit back a sigh. For goodness’ sakes.
“Thank you.” She slipped the phone back into her pocket.
Brock eyed her in the mirror again and had the oddest desire to enfold her in a hug. She looked fragile in the back seat next to the panting wolf-dog. Determined and somewhat pissed but still vulnerable. Why did this woman affect him like this? He switched his line of sight and caught Christian’s knowing gaze in the mirror.
There had been a hint of desperation in her movements but not in her tone. Why exactly had Ophelia been sent to the middle of nowhere? Obviously, he needed to push her for more information about herself.
He drove out of town and along the river road, his mind working until they reached the subdivision. He passed Mrs. McGillicuddy’s house and drove around a curve, stopping at a lime-green one-story home with a few rigs in the driveway. “We’re here.”
Ophelia carried Flossy’s stuffed-full bag inside a pretty dining room with a soft-looking quilt spread across the table. A white smocked tree sat in one corner with various Christmas decorations, including several elves on a shelf, adding a festive vibe to the home. Four women looked up at her, and she recognized two of them. “Hi, Doc. Hi Monica.”
“Hi, Olly.” The doctor sat at the far end, stitching what looked like a wild wolf. “You already met Monica at the tavern. This is Delores Jerky and Loretta Randsom. Ladies, meet FBI Special Agent Ophelia Spilazi.”
Ophelia’s hands felt damp. She lacked the girly skills to knit. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Delores echoed. She looked around seventy, with steel-gray hair braided down her back and darker skin marked by laugh lines spreading from her deep black eyes. “Welcome to my home.” She gestured for Ophelia to take the seat next to her.
Ophelia sat, and Flossy took the head of the table on her other side.
Monica grinned. “I need to go through some of my boxed winter clothes for you. It’s nice having another woman with decent height around here.”
Ophelia chuckled. “I agree. I never could share clothes with many friends. Too gangly.”
“Ditto, sister,” Monica said, her hands full of quilt, a beautiful solitaire diamond sparkling on her ring finger.
“What a lovely ring,” Ophelia said.
Monica smiled, glancing at her ring. “Thank you. David bought it in Anchorage, and it’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. The plow business pays well, and I make good tips at the diner. I’m hoping we can save enough to go to the Caribbean for a honeymoon after the wedding.” She looked up. “I also hope you’re still in town to attend in August.”
Would she be? Did Ophelia want to stay in Knife’s Edge? She did like the charming small town, and she wanted to find those missing persons. But if she arrested one of the Osprey brothers, the town would most certainly turn against her.
Loretta sat across from her. “Hi.” The pretty blonde had sparkling brown eyes and a genuine smile. “I hoped we’d get a chance to meet.”
“Me, too,” Ophelia admitted. She couldn’t just launch into her questions now, but maybe she could ease some information out of the woman. “I have to admit that I’ve never quilted before. I might just have to watch.”
Flossy smacked her arm. “Don’t be silly. The only way to learn how is to do it.”
“Same with shooting,” Ophelia murmured.
Delores reached for a stand-up tray next to her. “Red, white, or pink?” She gestured to the three already open bottles of wine.
“Red,” Ophelia said automatically.
Delores poured everyone glasses, apparently already knowing what the others wanted. Full glasses—to the brim of thick and tall wineglasses.
Ophelia took hers and smiled. “I didn’t know quilting involved copious amounts of wine.”
Flossy had to hold her glass with two bony hands. “When the fabric patches become blurry, we stop quilting.”
“And keep drinking.” The doctor snorted, accepting her glass of white wine.
Ophelia laughed. “Can I ask how Wyatt is doing without sounding like an agent, Doctor? Just sounding like a…person?”
“Call me May, and of course you can. He’s much better, and the frostbite doesn’t look permanent. I think he’ll keep his limbs.” May smiled and took a healthy drink of her wine. “He’s still babbling about monsters in the woods, although he didn’t see any.”
At least he was still in the hospital. Ophelia had contacted the attorney in Fairbanks but he wouldn’t be able to get a hearing until Monday. Once the judge signed the warrant, Ophelia could take Wyatt into custody.
Delores leaned forward. “Are you any further on the case? Who killed that EVE guy?”
Ophelia shook her head. “No clue, and according to the folks at EVE, he didn’t work there. Their theory is that he acquired the coat with the logo on it from somewhere else.”
“Right,” Flossy muttered. “Tons of secrets out there, I’m tellin’ you.”
Including the identity of the new head of security, a fact Ophelia would not share. “Do you all really think that place just studies the ionosphere?” She couldn’t wait until she received the information about EVE from DC. If she received the information.
“Who the heck knows,” Delores said.
Flossy took out her supplies and handed over a blue square of material with a majestic eagle already stitched on it. “You can stitch this to the quilt. He reminds me of Brock.”
“Thanks.” Ophelia looked at the material. Brock as an eagle? Made sense, somehow.
Flossy removed another square. This one had a bunch of owls scattered across it, looking like a bunch of kindergarteners. “I’ve always had fun with the rumors about EVE, but to be honest, I’ve never seen anything odd. Sure, the talk is crazy, but life gets boring out here in the winter when we’re not trying to survive.”
Doc nodded. “I’ve only been here a couple of months, but I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary either.”
“Me neither,” Loretta said, leaning over to carefully stitch her square to the bigger pieces.
Flossy nudged Ophelia in the arm. “I listened to your conversation in the truck. Was that your boss?”
Ophelia nodded. “Oh, yeah. That was my boss.”
Flossy grimaced. “Are you in trouble? Is that why they sent you all the way out here?”
Might as well tell the truth. “Yes. I had the same partner for a year, and it turned out he had a gambling problem and ended up stealing money and getting in deep with the wrong people.”
“How is that your fault?” Monica asked, her brow furrowing.
Ophelia’s stomach cramped. “He was my partner, I’m an FBI agent, and I didn’t see it. Plus, well…”
Loretta twittered. “You were more than partners with this man.”
Ophelia nodded. “Yep. That’s also against the rules.” She’d thought he was the one. Boy had she been wrong. “So, I’m on my last chance here, according to rumors at the Bureau.” And what her boss had said.
Loretta winked at her. “I’ve been accused of murder, so I don’t really pay attention to rumors because they’re usually wrong.”
Ophelia coughed and set down her wineglass. “Huh.” She didn’t know what else to say.
Loretta laughed. “Go ahead. You know you want to interview me, and I don’t have anything to hide. Feel free.”
Ophelia paused, wanting to do her job but also needing to relax. “You have a right to a lawyer.”
Loretta’s louder peal tinkled like bells. Her brown eyes sparkled. “Thanks, but I don’t need one. Tamara Randsom was a cranky woman who didn’t like anybody, including Leo. I don’t think she abandoned her kids, but she definitely left him. Their divorce went through and she moved out to the Tundra Haven complex.”
Ophelia paused in watching Delores’s hands. Finally. Some relevant facts. “A complex?”
“I guess a long stay motel that folks used as apartments?” Delores murmured. “Yeah. That’s how I’d describe the place.”
Monica nodded. “Tammy lived at the Tundra for at least a month.”
Ophelia tried to keep her tone level. “Tell me about the Tundra Haven. Did Tammy live with anybody? Who owns the place? What happened to her belongings after her disappearance?”
Loretta held up a hand. “Whoa. Slow down. I had a drink earlier today. Let’s see. She lived alone as far as I know, Jarod Teller owned the complex, and her belongings burned in the fire that demolished the whole place.”
Fire? Ophelia sat back. “How long after she disappeared did the fire occur?”
Loretta twisted her lip. “The fire took place sometime in the spring, maybe May? I don’t know exactly when Tammy disappeared. Nobody does. She partied a lot in town from what I heard, and it’s not like she and Leo had a custody arrangement in place. He kept the homestead and kids, and she took them when she finished partying and acting like a teenager. That’s what he said, anyway.”
Ophelia sat back and watched Loretta’s facial muscles. She seemed to be telling the truth. “Does Leo have any idea where she is?”
Loretta shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. He also thinks she never would’ve left the kids, so something bad probably happened to her. But neither of us hurt her, and we have no idea who did.” She sighed. “We’ve searched our property for any sign of her but have found nothing. Sometimes people disappear around here, and we don’t know if it’s because of animals, the weather, or something worse.” She bit her lip. “I wish she had just taken off and would come back and see the children someday, but it doesn’t feel like that’s possible.”
“Is there any chance she died in that fire?” Ophelia asked.
Flossy shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t remember the exact date of the fire. When the insurance guy found out we lacked a fire marshal, he had a buddy from Anchorage come here with his cadaver dog, and we all searched the rubble for valuables that might’ve survived for those who’d lost their homes. The expert and dog confirmed that there were no human remains. Thank goodness.”
Ophelia sat straighter. “You wouldn’t have the names of the insurance adjuster or his buddy?”
“Nope,” Flossy said. “I’m sure Jarod does. He did get a big payout, I think. Don’t know the amount.” She patted her gray hair. “If you ask me, Tammy just didn’t want to stay in Knife’s Edge.”
Delores nodded. “Yeah, I agree. Tammy always acted too good to live here and didn’t make friends. She didn’t care much for Leo and wanted to live in a city—a real one. But she loved her kids and wouldn’t have just left them.”
Ophelia studied how Delores moved the quilting needles. “When was the last time you saw Tammy, Loretta?”
“I think it was during the kindergarten graduation,” Loretta said, pursing her lips as she thought. “I’m pretty sure.”
So the day of Tamara’s last social media post.
Loretta resumed stitching the quilt. “Leo heard that Tammy, ah, sowed her wild oats. That she slept with a few men from town.”
“Who?” Ophelia asked.
Loretta shrugged. “Leo didn’t say who and I didn’t ask.”
Delores cleared her throat, her hands stitching fast and sure. “I heard she was having a good time, as well. It’s too bad the Tundra burned down.”
Wasn’t it, though?