Chapter 7
Arliss Cutter hit the Callback button on his cell phone while Chief Phillips waited at the airport carousel for their luggage. His ex-wife answered on the first ring.
Her voice was slightly breathless, tentative. “Hey big guy …”
He was in no mood for small talk.
“Joellen? Are you okay?”
“I … I should never have called.”
“But you did,” he said. “I need to know if you’re alright.”
“I’m peachy. You know me. I was just being paranoid, that’s all.
Which, when I think about it, is your fault.
” She gave a nervous chuckle. “Don’t walk on my gun side, let me sit with my back to the wall, watch your backtrail …
Any of that sound familiar? Truth be told, I learned all I know about sleeping with my eyes open from being married to you. ”
“Then you also learned to pay attention to your gut,” he said. “Which is good. Something must have made you call. We haven’t spoken in …”
“Seven years, eight months, two weeks, and three days.”
“Seriously?” Cutter said.
“It has been seven years,” she said. “I’m joking about that last part.”
“Come on, Jo,” he said. “Be serious for a minute. You obviously felt the need to contact me. What’s the matter?”
“I told you,” she said. “Good Lord, Arliss, this is why we got divorced. Nothing’s the matter.”
“Well,” he said. “Okay, then—” He paused, like he was going to end the call. They were married long enough he knew she wouldn’t let that happen.
“I thought someone was following me,” she blurted out. “But I overreacted. I’d heard that you’d moved to Alaska. This cruise ship happens to be heading for Alaska. I got scared. I called you. That’s it. It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”
“You’re on the ship now?”
“Right, but—”
“What’s the first port of call?” he asked. “Ketchikan?”
“That’s right,” she said. “How did you—”
“A lot of cruise ships stop in Ketchikan first,” he said. “What made you think you’re being followed in the first place? Be specific. Are you in some kind of trouble? I assume you’re still with the Clerk’s office. Any big federal cases put you in the crosshairs?”
“I seriously doubt anyone notices me in the courtroom unless I’m swearing in a witness.”
“Any new enemies?”
“I don’t even think I have any old enemies.”
“Pissed anyone off lately?”
“Besides you, for calling out of the blue like this? None come to mind. Listen, Arliss, I hope I didn’t upset Mim.”
“She’s fine,” Cutter said. “Concentrate, Jo. Who would want to follow you?”
“I don’t owe money to the mob or anything,” she said. “If that’s what you mean.”
“Who do you owe money to?”
“Nobody!” she said. “Geez Louise, Arliss. I told you, I’m fine.”
“When did you first have this feeling?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess when I was still in Miami. That said, I haven’t traveled in a while. I’m sure it’s just jitters.”
“You called me from Seattle,” he said. “You must have seen or felt something there, too.”
“I guess so,” she said. “Shit, you make things difficult, don’t you …
Look, I’m safe on the ship now. I met a cool guy in the boarding line.
We chatted for a bit while we were waiting for our cabins to be made up.
He’s some kind of state investigator from Minnesota.
We’re having dinner together later tonight. You know, see how it goes.”
Cutter started to ask if she’d checked this guy’s credentials but decided it was none of his business.
“Shut up!” she said, breaking the silence. “You were going to make fun of me because I’m having dinner with a cop.”
“Not true,” he said, though he had thought about it. Joellen had a type. Cutter had no idea who she’d dated after she divorced him, but before, she’d gone for two Miami-Dade cops, some military dudes, and at least one professional bull rider.
“How are you, anyway?” she asked out of left field, softer, like she didn’t quite hate his guts anymore.
“What? I … I’m fine. Better than fine.”
“That’s good to hear,” she said. “I was so sorry to hear about Barbara.”
“Thank you.”
“So … Mim,” she said, almost reverently. “I guess I should have seen that one coming.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Are we doing this? Catching up on each other’s lives?”
“You’re right. I’m an idiot for calling you.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Listen, Arliss, I really do appreciate you returning my call, but I’m fine. And anyway, I’m on the ship now. Steve can look after me.”
“Steve?”
“Minnesota guy,” she said. “Keep up, hon.”
“Cruise ships have decent security. Let someone know your concerns and—”
“I’m just tired,” Joellen said. “I truly am sorry that I bothered you.”
“When does your ship dock in Ketchikan?”
“Why?” Her laugh was kind, familiar. “That’s what I loved about you, Arliss Cutter. Still do, truth be told. Your overwhelming compulsion to save the day. You just can’t help yourself.”
“Hey now,” he said. “You were concerned enough to call me after seven years, eight months, two weeks, and three days. …”
“I also forgot about that bear-trap memory of yours.”
“When do you arrive in Ketchikan? It would make me feel better to know a couple of details.”
The sound of rattling papers came from the other end of the line, then she said, “Our itinerary shows we dock at eight thirty in the morning the day after tomorrow.”
“Be careful,” Cutter said.
“Yep,” she said. “Talk to you again in seven years, eight months and … whatever it was I said.”
“Jo—”
“Just kidding,” she said. “I’ll do us both a favor and lose your number.”
Cutter ended the call and gave a slow shake of his head. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so wobbled. So much had happened over the past few months. A reunion with his estranged mother after forty years, a sister he didn’t know existed, and a baby daughter on the way.
Now one of his ex-wives was in trouble.
After his first divorce, his grandfather, Grumpy, had told him not to fret.
I was damned fortunate with your grandma, but sometimes marriages are like cooking pancakes.
The first one just doesn’t quite turn out.
The sentiment had made Cutter feel better at the time, but after the marriage to Joellen—pancake number three—didn’t turn out either, it was hard not to see the problem was with the cook.
Twelve hundred and fifty-eight nautical miles to the south of Anchorage, Joellen Cutter wiped salt spray off the balcony railing with the forearm of her fleece jacket, feeling the wind on her face.
She sighed. It wasn’t right to be so tired this early into a trip, but Arliss Cutter was the most exhausting person she’d ever met.
At first, especially when she was younger, his kind of energy was exciting.
Then, their marriage had blown up in her face …
and for the life of her, she couldn’t remember why.
She peeked over the rail at the churning ocean some fifty feet below.
The water sizzled in a frothy chop as the ship slid northward into blackness.
Joellen was a tall woman, almost six feet.
Her twentysomething stylist had convinced her to try something shorter with her strawberry-blond hair, something new for the cruise.
This not-so-brilliant idea turned out to be kind of a wedged bob that was longer in front than it was in the back.
The stylist said it made her look French.
Joellen thought it made her look like one of those stereotypical Karens on TikTok.
Arliss had always described her hair as claybank, probably because his grandfather had once owned a horse with the same coloring.
Claybank Karen. Not such a great handle on social media.
She’d stick with strawberry blond, thank you very much.
Joellen had boarded the ship with two resolutions: Get the onboard salon to fix the strawberry-blond disaster and find a new hairdresser when she got home.
The Polar Star had left the bright glow of Vancouver in its wake while Joellen was talking with Arliss.
With. What a joke. You didn’t have a conversation with Arliss Cutter.
You sat back and listened while he told you how it was going to be.
She pulled her fleece jacket snug around her neck and shivered at the notion.
No, that wasn’t right. She was being too hard on him.
If he’d been that bad, she’d never have fallen for him in the first place—or kept his surname after all these years.
A knock on her cabin door drew her out of the memory. It was barely audible from the balcony with the hush of the sea in her ears. Odd that anyone would be knocking at all. She’d already tipped the room steward.
She looked through the peephole. Arliss would have chided her for that. Better not to open the door at all than stick your eye right where someone expected it to be if they wanted to hurt you.
She flushed when she saw the hulking figure standing in the hallway.
“Minnesota Steve!” She yanked open the door.
Steve Cruz had a bit of a dad bod, but that was okay.
Nobody was asking her to do Sports Illustrated photo shoots either.
Joellen felt every one of her forty-three years in her bones.
She could forgive some love handles as long as they came with that rugged jaw and curly mop.
Single guys who came on cruises were either on the desiccated side or wore sweatpants so they could devote themselves fully to the buffet.
She leaned against the doorjamb, hoping it looked coy. In reality, she was trying not to tower. She had almost two inches of altitude on the guy.
“I thought we were meeting at the bar. You’re fifteen minutes early.”
It occurred to her that she hadn’t given him her cabin number. She wasn’t against hooking up on a cruise, but she’d learned the hard way that first impressions could be oh-so-wrong. Better to keep a few things to herself until she got a better read on a person. “How did you—”
Steve gave a sheepish grimace. “I saw your cabin number when we were checking in. Guess I just can’t shake the investigator in me. I apologize if I’ve come off like a stalker.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “But I’m not quite ready.”
He filled up the door like a linebacker, all dapper in his khaki slacks and classy navy-blue sport jacket. Did this guy actually scuff his shoe against the carpet? She half expected him to say aw shucks.
He gave an embarrassed grin. “This may come as a shock, what with my debonair ways, but I’ve been out of the dating game for a good while. I’ll wait for you by the elevators. That is, if you still want to go, considering I’ve crowded you from the get-go. …”
“It’s all good,” Jolene said. Then she pushed the door open wider. “Come on in. You can wait on the couch while I finish getting ready.”
Letting a man she’d only just met in her room—that would piss off Arliss for sure—which, if she was honest with herself, was exactly why she did it.