Chapter 18
18
It took most of the day, but they finally tracked down someone who could decipher the property records for them. Ben Whistler didn’t work for the state, but for the National Park Service.
“This is classic corruption,” he told them through bites of his sandwich. They’d caught him in mid-snack, on his way out of the office for the weekend. He was a young, intense, fast-talking guy wearing a Katmai National Park t-shirt. “It used to happen all the time, but we finally put a stop to it.”
“What sort of corruption are you talking about?” Gunnar asked, after a glance at Ruth to see if she wanted to ask first, since it was her family’s property.
“Someone paid a shit ton of money for a carve-out from the park. This land is supposed to be an Ahtna inholding. The Ahtna have most of the inholdings in the Wrangells, although they don’t do them much good, since they’re not contiguous. But that’s a different issue. Important, but not the point here. They didn’t sell this land. Someone simply drew new boundaries and created this plat.”
“Wouldn’t the Ahtna have fought against that?”
“Maybe they got paid off, too. Wouldn’t surprise me—whoever did this was very wealthy and very determined.”
Ruth had gone pale. “That makes no sense. The Chilkoots aren’t wealthy.”
“Well, maybe your family was at one time. The owner is listed as an LLC.”
“LLC? No, that’s not right either. It’s Luke Chilkoot. Just LC. He doesn’t have a middle initial.”
“It says right here, Chilkoot LLC. That’s a limited liability corporation, a kind of business entity. All LLC’s operating in Alaska have to have a business license, so you could check on that too. But that’s a different department and I really need to get going.” He stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.
“Wait,” Gunnar said quickly, before he could disappear. “Can you check one more property? It’s also in the Wrangells, but I don’t have the plat number. The owner’s name would be Anthony Amundsen.”
A few quick keystrokes, and Ben Whistler shook his head. “Nothing under that name.”
“Can you look by location? It’s in Thunder Pass, just outside Firelight Ridge.”
“Thunder Pass? I’ve climbed there. Beautiful territory. And absolutely no private property.”
“Are you sure? It would just be a cabin, nothing fancy.”
“There might be some unauthorized cabins up there, but they’d be located on National Park land. Maybe someone got a waiver. Or maybe they just didn’t care about the law. It could be grandfathered in depending on when it was built.” He looked at Gunnar expectantly, but Gunnar just shrugged.
“I honestly don’t know anything about it. Someone told me it existed, so I thought I’d try to locate it.”
Ben Whistler zoomed in on the area of Thunder Pass and switched to a topographical view. “The thing is, people go up there to rock climb, so anything in here would be pretty obvious and we probably would have gotten a report by now.” He pointed to an area to the west. “This is pretty steep and rocky. Unlikely spot for a cabin. My guess would be around here.” He tapped the other side of the pass, where long downslopes led to the feet of another ridge. “If it even exists.”
“Who owns that land?” Gunnar asked.
Ben switched back to the plat map and peered closer at the property lines. “Sheesh.”
“Sheesh? What does that mean?”
“It means they’ve been chipping away at those boundaries too. Someone’s claimed the land around Thunder Pass. Chilkoot LLC, looks like. Sheesh,” he repeated as he shut down the computer and tossed his sandwich wrapper in the trash.
“I don’t understand. Can they just reassign land from the park?”
“No. Not normally. But someone did it. Someone way up there, with a lot more clout than I have.”
“Who? Can you find out? Shouldn’t you report it?”
“These days, I’m just lucky to have a job. Half my department’s been canned.” He got to his feet, brushing crumbs off his pants.
Ruth finally found her voice. “Wait! Isn’t there any way to find out more about Chilkoot LLC?”
“Didn’t you say you’re a Chilkoot?”
She nodded.
“Can’t you just ask your family?” Catching her expression, he shrugged. Then he snapped his fingers. “Wait. Talk to this woman.” He scrawled a name on a yellow Post-It and handed it to Ruth. “She was investigating this type of corruption. She might know something.”
He hurried them out of his office and a few moments later they heard his footsteps rattling down the staircase.
Gunnar and Ruth shared a glance. “Food first, or corruption first?” he asked her.
“Watching him eat that sandwich made my stomach growl. Definitely food.”
They drove back to the library, which had an attached café that served sandwiches and drinks. Ruth ordered two more coffee drinks—a mocha and a caramel latte.
“If I lived in Anchorage I’d never sleep from all the coffee,” she whispered to Gunnar, her face pink from over-caffeination.
“You can order them decaf, did you know that? Decaffeinated?”
“No.” Her eyes opened wide. “That’s genius.”
When they’d wolfed down their grilled cheese sandwiches, they went back to the computers and looked up Renata McBurney, the name on the Post-It, who turned out to be retired from the Attorney General’s office. Using his ancient flip phone, Gunnar called and made an appointment for the next day.
That meant they had an entire night to spend in Anchorage. Exactly what Gunnar had been hoping for.
First they booked a room at a hotel that rose twenty floors high—he chose a room on the fifteenth floor. Ruth had never been in an elevator before; she grabbed the railing and hung on, then immediately wanted to go down again, as if it was a carnival ride.
That was entertaining in and of itself, but then seeing her face as he opened the drapes and revealed the sweeping view of Cook Inlet, with the late-evening sun slanting across the endless glimmering ocean—that was something to savor.
He loved watching her experience so many things for the first time. Ironic, really, because he’d only been to Anchorage a few times himself. He wasn’t exactly a world traveler. But he knew enough to guess what things would be new and fascinating to her.
Like eating dinner at a sushi bar with a conveyor belt that sent new dishes past the tables. Hell, she’d never even had sushi before. The Caribou Grill didn’t serve it, and neither did The Fang, which were basically the only two dinner options in Firelight Ridge, other than the luxury resort Fire Peak Lodge, which Ruth had never been to either.
“Is this fun for you, watching me act like a kid when every new thing comes along?” Ruth asked him at one point, as she was fiddling with the chopsticks—definitely brand new to her.
“Oh yes. It’s the most fun I’ve had all summer.” He grinned at her. “I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“As long as you’re not laughing at me, it’s fine.”
“Ruth, I swear to you, that’s not going to happen. Now try a sip of this.” He’d ordered some hot sake, which was his favorite form of alcohol, the only one he didn’t have a bad reaction to.
She tried it and a smile spread across her face. “You know I’ve only tried wine twice in my life. I liked it, but this is better. Sweeter.”
“Yes, but watch out because?—”
Too late. She’d downed the rest of the little cup and was already refilling it from the graceful little jug.
“It hits harder than you’d expect,” he finished.
Two spots of color burned in her cheeks, almost as red as the thick waves of her hair, which she’d left loose over her shoulders. Since they hadn’t brought much in the way of extra clothing, they’d made a stop at a thrift store, where she’d bought the first dress she hadn’t made herself—a slip dress with spaghetti straps and a subtle pink shimmer to it. It looked stunning on her.
“This is really fun,” she announced, her gray eyes shining bright, like lanterns in the fog. “What’s next?”
“I have an idea, if you’re not too shy.”
“Maybe I was too shy before I had this sake, but I’m not anymore! Let’s do it!”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
She leaned forward, dazzling him with her smile. “Will you be there?”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s do it.”
Ten minutes later, the two of them were onstage at the karaoke bar, belting out the lyrics to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by the Rolling Stones, which had been their favorite song to sing along to on the road trip.
Ruth was right—she wasn’t shy at all on that stage. Nor was she shy when they hit the dance floor together at Chilkoot Charlie’s, though it took her a good ten minutes to stop laughing at the name of that bar. She even danced with another man besides Gunnar, though he kept a wary eye on the dude the entire time. By the time they stumbled out of the bar, nearly delirious with laughter, the night was already hinting at becoming day.
Ruth clung to his arm as the predawn chill settled around them. Her cheeks were bright pink and sweat dotted her skin from the hours of dancing.
“This was the best night of my entire life. Thank you, Gunnar.”
He could think of a way they could make it even better. But was she ready for that? “You had fun?” he asked instead.
“Fun isn’t even the right word. There has to be a better one. So much music and dancing and singing and…I just feel so much right now! It’s like a golden balloon filling up my heart.”
She was so adorable, he could barely stand it. He was used to seeing Ruth restrain herself, hold her tongue, keep her thoughts to herself, move quietly so people didn’t notice. Kind of like a secret agent herself, he thought with amusement. She did her best to take care of the others without drawing attention to herself.
He’d always suspected there was more, much more going on behind those soft gray eyes. But up until now, during the time they’d spent together, she’d kept most of herself locked away. Now he was seeing the full glorious sight of Ruth Chilkoot being herself—and he felt the effects down to his bones.
“Damn, Ruth,” he murmured. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are right now?”
She gazed up at him, startled, then patted her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m all sweaty from dancing.”
“Yeah. It’s sexy.”
Her lips parted. Now she was even more sexy. His body responded, hardened. He wanted to get sweaty with her in all sorts of other ways—naked, between the sheets, in their hotel room, or hell, in the truck, he didn’t care. He wanted her, badly.
But this was Ruth. Their first kiss had been a disaster of miscommunication. If she’d thought one kiss meant marriage, what would she think sex meant? At the very least, marriage.
He respected that. It was what some believed, and more power to them. But that wasn’t him. He didn’t want to mislead her or cause her any more pain or confusion, like he had before.
All of these thoughts were running through his mind, but his body wasn’t quite getting the message. His lips hovered over hers, his arm came around her, pulling her closer, while an uncomfortable bulge grew in his pants. She moved against him, whether innocently or not, he couldn’t tell. Her hip brushed his groin and his erection grew hot and hard.
“Let’s…get to the truck,” he muttered against her lips. If he could even remember where they’d parked. For a moment, he went completely blank, oblivious to everything except Ruth’s upturned face, the “yes” in her eyes, the soft warmth of her body against his.
And then his head jerked up at a very familiar sound—his engine. He’d recognize the way the cylinders of that 2005 Toyota Tundra V-8 engine fired in a lineup. Sure enough, it was rocketing around the corner from the side lot where he’d parked.
“Hey,” he yelled, ready to run after the thief. But the truck screeched to a stop right in front of them, and the driver leaned across the front seat to open the door for them.
“Get in,” he said urgently.
Gunnar felt Ruth tremble against his side, but he was too shocked to move, either to obey or to run the other way.
“What’s going on?” she asked in a tremulous voice.
He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t find the words. Just kept staring at the man in the truck. He knew him. But how?
“Now,” said the man. “We’re running out of time.”