Chapter 35
By the timethey left the greenhouse, Charlie’s thigh was throbbing and she had to limp across the lawn. Of course Nick noticed; he noticed everything. It was one of his most annoying, and amazing, qualities.
“Break time,” Nick said firmly. She leaned on him as he helped her up the stairs to her room. Leaning on people wasn’t generally her thing, but in Nick’s case, she made an exception.
In her room, she changed out of her shorts and into comfy yoga pants, then stretched out onto her stomach, her feet dangling over one edge of the bed, her head propped on her folded arms.
“If only those assholes had shot me in the front of my leg instead of the back,” she grumbled. “My life would be a lot easier.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Terribly.”
“Be right back.”
He whisked himself out of the room. She sighed and allowed her eyes to close, and her body to rest.
She thought about the time in Oslo when she’d infiltrated a conference of oil execs, filched a password, and diverted a steady stream of small contributions to Save Our Oceans. Afterwards, she’d closed herself up in a hotel room and ordered room service champagne to celebrate—alone. Same as when she’d spent time in Argentina hacking into the network of an arms manufacturer. Those funds had gone to Doctors Without Borders. That time, she’d celebrated with Prosecco and strawberries—alone.
Ever since her father had gone to prison, she’d been a lone ranger. But now…
Nick came back into the room carrying a serving tray from the kitchen. He set it on the nightstand, giving her a glimpse of one of Big Eddie’s tuna melt paninis and a bowl of cherry tomatoes that might have just come from the greenhouse. There was also a pile of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. And iced tea.
“Big Eddie sends his love,” said Nick.
“He’s a god among men.” She hauled herself into a sitting position that didn’t hurt her thigh. “Don’t get jealous, you have your moments too.”
This time when she searched her heart, she found very little anger against Nick still lingering. He was a good man; she wasn’t used to that.
Nick handed her the sandwich plate. “Fuel up, because we have work to do.”
“We’re kind of at a dead end, aren’t we? April’s not saying anything else.”
“Oh, she said plenty. She more or less admitted that she’s being blackmailed.”
Charlie dug into her sandwich as she thought about everything her crotchety boss had said. “But she’s digging in her heels. I’m not surprised about that. She’s stubborn. It takes a tough woman to survive out here for over forty years.”
“Do you believe her that she didn’t kill Bulldog?”
“I do. But Vasily and the Chechens must have something on her. Or maybe it’s not Vasily. She said she hadn’t talked to him. What if it’s someone else blackmailing her?”
“Any ideas?”
She washed down a painkiller with a long sip of ice tea. “It must be connected to the past somehow. She’s a hermit. Her whole life is Fire Peak Lodge.”
“The guardian of Fire Peak,” Nick murmured.
“Exactly! I like that. The hermit guardian of Fire Peak.”
“You know, I think Solomon has a thing for April. I noticed it the first time I hung out at The Fang.”
“Should we go back and interrogate him some more?” Charlie wondered out loud. “Maybe he held back something to protect April.”
“Nah, something tells me he’s not hanging around his trailer with frozen blueberries on his head anymore. He’s probably trying to find that perilium vein.”
She waved her tuna sandwich in the air. “Speaking of which, where do you think it is? The skiff!” she exclaimed at the same moment that he said, “the boat.”
They smiled at each other.
“Look at us, partners in crime-solving,” she said brightly. “And here I thought you worked alone.”
He held her gaze. “I do, normally. You’re different.”
Damn, those dark eyes really pulled her in and made her forget why she was angry with him. “I’m a lone ranger, too. Or I was. It might be time to move on to a different occupation.”
“Not because?—”
She shook her head. “No. Not because of you. Because of me. I was ready to change things up when you chased me into this town. When I was hiding out at Gunnar’s, I made that decision.”
He absorbed her words but showed no reaction. Maybe he was afraid to say the wrong thing, like “oh good, I won’t be exposing my daughter to a criminal anymore.”
“What will you do for work?” he asked.
“Work is the wrong word. Purpose. I need purpose. That’s more important to me than work.”
Her words seemed to strike a chord. He abruptly sat up, then rose from the bed and paced to the window. “Purpose. That might be the key to this whole thing. April has a sense of purpose—to preserve Fire Peak. The Chechens might be trying to help their people. Maybe they’re desperate and can’t wait. That trace of perilium that ended up in your thigh…. do you think they’re already taking samples?”
She set her plate back on the nightstand and got to her feet to join him. The painkiller she’d taken was doing its job, and she barely felt a twinge now. “Maybe it’s more than that.” She was thinking hard now, gears turning. “There’s something I learned during my Robin Hood days.”
“Shoot.” He made a face at his choice of words. “I mean, what is it?”
“To do things in a way that no one will notice.”
“People notice you, Charlie Santa Lucia. I’m sorry if this is news to you.”
She gave him a light swat on the arm. “I’m being serious. People notice me, but they don’t notice what I’m doing under the radar. I’ve had people think that I’m a gold-digger, a fortune-hunter, a con artist, a model, a royal from a country no one’s heard of. I make people notice me because it keeps them from seeing me. No one ever thinks I’m a secret nerd who’s been obsessed with coding from an early age. I can hack all I want, and as long as I cover my tracks, no one connects the dots.”
“Hobbs did,” Nick pointed out.
“True, but that was because I made a mistake and acted out of both revenge and worry about my father. I took too much. Until then, no one figured it out.”
She could tell that it was starting to dawn on him now. “Below the radar. Low profile.”
“Right. Instead of going for a big mining operation, maybe someone is doing it low-key. Small bits, but steady, enough to make a difference for someone. That’s the Charlie way. Low-key Robin Hood. That’s why there was perilium on the arrowhead. That explains the dead birds. They’re already working with it.”
He was nodding along, then frowned. “But Solomon said that perilium isn’t something for small-scale miners.”
“But maybe he was lying. He pulled a gun on us. He wanted us not to tell anyone about the perilium. He has a mining claim, he knows the territory. He might have hired you to flush out his competitors. Maybe he’s the one blackmailing April!”
“Damn it.” Nick ran a hand through his hair. “I liked the old bastard.”
“He’s a character, for sure.” She snapped her fingers as something occurred to her. “Where’s my laptop? Let me see what I can find out about him. These guys all have these nicknames, Bulldog, Solomon…but who are they really?”
Nick grabbed her laptop from the milk crate that served as her desk. “This should be interesting. All you have is his nickname.”
“Nope. I also have a picture of him. You might not want to watch this part if you’re overly obsessed with legalities.” She sent the picture she’d surreptitiously snapped of Solomon’s unconscious face to her laptop, then hacked into a facial recognition database that she’d worked with before.
Halfway through, she realized that Nick was watching her with a kind of amused fascination. “What?”
“It’s fun to watch you work. You’re in your element.”
“I have lots of elements. Everyone does. But yeah, I enjoy this. I’d probably enjoy it if I was doing it aboveboard too.” She tapped the keys, fingers flying, trying to clean up the photo before she ran it through the system. She pressed “match” and waited for the results. “Jackpot. Want to take a look or do you want to wait for a search warrant?”
He laughed and came to her side to check out her screen. “I’m not exactly a Boy Scout either. Why do you think I work for myself? Whoa.”
“Exactly.”
The face of Solomon was a hundred percent match for John Sturgeon, wanted by the State of Alaska in connection with an assault on another miner fifteen years ago.
“Damn. Old Solomon’s been hiding out in Firelight Ridge for fifteen years. Do you think he killed Bulldog?” Nick scratched at his chin as he read the information. “Maybe we were wrong about April.”
“Maybe that was the love triangle!”
They shared a look full of amusement, but Charlie couldn’t quite see that being true.
More searching brought up an article in the Blackbear newspaper about local cold cases. Charlie scanned it and summarized for Nick. “Solomon and the victim were partners in a mining project. Solomon always claimed he was innocent, but disappeared after they charged him. And…wait for it…”
Nick looked as if he might want to grab the computer and read it for himself.
“There’s a Chilkoot connection,” she said before he lost his mind with impatience. “John Sturgeon helped the Chilkoots purchase their land. I wonder if that’s significant? The Chilkoots just had that big bust at their compound. And the creek where Solomon has his camper, and where the skiff was, I’m pretty sure it borders Chilkoot land.”
Nick paced around the room again. She missed pacing, it really helped her think. But her thigh wasn’t interested in any kind of pacing activity.
Then he stopped, his upper body framed by the window, a postcard-perfect mountain behind him.
Windows still made her nervous, so she tugged him to one side. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like it,” he said in a low, tense voice. “Elias is a Chilkoot and he’s been spending a lot of time with Hailey. She’s my responsibility. Not this. Not the lodge, not a dead guy from forty years ago, not a miner with a rap sheet. Not the fucking perilium.”
Her heart twisted at the grim expression on his face. She gently touched his arm, then slid her hand down to his palm, and interlaced her fingers with his. Warm and strong, his hand tightened around hers.
“I got caught up. Mr. Bigtime Investigator. But I’m a father now, and I can’t just disappear on her.”
“You’re right. You should go check on Hailey. Don’t worry about me, or any of this. She’s the one that matters.”
With his free hand, he cradled her chin and lifted her face up for a soft, clinging kiss. His dark eyes searched hers, as if he had so much more to say, but couldn’t. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I…I wish…”
She pulled away, knowing he wanted to be in his Jeep already, heading toward Hailey. “It’s all right. Just go. Go.”
He nodded. When he was halfway to the door, her phone beeped, surprising her. She didn’t get much communication through her phone these days, and it always startled her when she did. She glanced at the text, then froze.
“Nick.”
Her urgent tone had him striding back to her side. Together, they stared at the blurry photo an unknown number had sent to her phone. It showed Hailey and Elias sitting under a tarp tied between two spruce trees, back to back, tied together with rope. Elias’ head was bowed, as if he was unconscious. But Hailey glared straight at the camera. Fierce as ever.
Even though theman claimed he wasn’t going to hurt her, Hailey didn’t believe him, especially when they left the town and headed down a logging road into the forest. From the passenger seat, she watched the forest pass by, mile after mile.
“Where are we going? Where’s Elias?”
The man chuckled. “Don’t worry about your boyfriend.”
She let that pass, because the nature of their relationship was not the point and also none of his business. “My dad will be looking for me.”
“I hope he does.”
She noticed his accent again. “Who are you?”
“I’m an old friend.”
Old, yes. Friend? No way. “Where are you from?”
“That’s a complicated question.” They passed an old train trestle, its long timbers leaning against each other like tall pickup sticks, ready to collapse at any moment. “That train used to bring life to this town. Took copper out, brought people in. Don’t you think it should be that way again?”
“What? I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Copper? Who cares? Where’s Elias? Is he okay?”
“He would be better if he hadn’t fought back.”
Hailey was so worried about Elias that she could barely stay in her seat belt. “You were watching us in the woods, weren’t you? You cut the tires of our four-wheelers.”
“You shouldn’t have been out there. But it worked out fine, because now I know how to get what I want.”
“Okay. So what do you want?”
“What’s mine. That’s all. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”
The truck came to a stop under some trees next to a creek. The water flowed over the rocks with a cheerful tinkling sound. Clearly it didn’t know a kidnapping was underway. She saw a boat, a little one with a motor, tied up to a log.
The man came around the passenger side and yanked her out of the truck. He was wearing that fur coat again. It looked old, really old. She wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value, or if he was too poor to buy a new one. What kind of animal had it come from? She felt sorry for it, stuck forever on this horrible man’s body.
He prodded her toward the boat. She bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes. She should have listened to her father and stayed inside the cabin.
The thought of Nick eased her mind. He was with Charlie, and as soon as they knew she was missing, they’d figure out where she was and come after her. Nick was an investigator. He’d be able to find her even here in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. And Charlie was a badass. Between the two of them, they’d make sure she and Elias didn’t die here in the forest.
When she was settled into the boat, the man pushed off from the edge of the creek and jumped in after her. He used a paddle to steer them toward the middle of the creek, where the water was deeper. As he paddled upstream, he sang a song she didn’t recognize.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Old Russian song for the boatman. Heave ho, heave ho. Volga, mother river.” He gave a booming, almost maniacal laugh, startling a cluster of birds from their perch on a log. And it struck her that this man wasn’t entirely sane. Maybe not even a little bit sane.