Chapter 45
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Lady Melinda—Eliason Harbor, Sitka, AK
Anya stepped aboard Lady Melinda and into the salon.
Musk. Men’s cologne—Galley. Gun.
She opened the second drawer next to the stove.
Lady Melinda rocked.
Someone’s onboard.
Anya pushed a dish towel aside and felt the cold, smooth comfort of the Smith & Wesson 357 Magnum grip.
Shadow.
Something darkened the doorway behind her.
She pulled the hammer back two clicks as she pivoted and raised the weapon.
A silhouette stood stoically at the threshold.
She flicked on the lights with her left hand and leveled her revolver at a spot mid-chest on the tall lanky man.
“I’m gonna need you to back up right now and get yourself off my boat.
” Anya guessed him to be about seventy, with city-slicked gray hair, a smart suit, freshly shined shoes, and a formidable handlebar mustache.
“You look real at ease with that piece.” His voice was deep, calm, and unfazed.
Anya aligned the bead on the barrel of the pistol with the man’s beakish nose. “Don’t be surprised that an Alaskan woman knows how to use a firearm. I won’t hesitate. This is my boat, and you, sir, are trespassing.”
The stranger didn’t budge. “My apologies. I should have asked permission before boarding. I have some business to discuss with you, Mrs. Baron.”
Anya’s spine stiffened. “How do you know…? Get off my boat. Now!”
The man took a small step forward. “I represent Gateway Arch Development from St. Louis. Name’s Thomas. Do me a favor and set that firearm down, Anya. Ain’t here to cause you trouble.”
“If you have business, please deal with my lawyer. You are not welcome aboard my vessel.” Anya took a step forward to show she was not afraid. She let her breath out slowly to maintain calm. When she inhaled, she caught a whiff of the man’s cologne, again.
“Were you onboard before I got here?” She already knew the answer.
Another small step toward her. “Once more, I’m sorry for the intrusion. The situation was…Please, ease up on the gun. I reckon you’ll see it’s not loaded. Had to ensure our safety. We gotta have a talk.”
Bluffing.
“My patience is running out. You need to…”
Thomas stepped through the doorway, toward her.
Anya pointed the gun to the hatch above his head and squeezed the trigger.
Click.
Not bluffing.
Thomas turned and closed the door behind him. “If you don’t mind, can we sit down and talk? Got a mighty lucrative proposition for ya.”
The gun grew heavy in her hand.
The man moved farther inside, toward the starboard side table.
“I told you to deal with my lawyer.” Anya lowered the weapon. “Leave. This instant.”
Thomas pulled himself into a seat at the dinette. “Had a run-in with your lawyer, a rather disagreeable chap. Thought he could throw his weight around, but as a businessman, I don’t take kindly to threats.”
Threats? He was shot in the back of the head.
Keeping her body between the man and the galley drawer, Anya replaced the revolver, lifted out her fillet knife, and slipped the scabbard into her boot while the man made himself comfortable in her dinette.
Thomas placed an attaché case on the table and opened it. Anya stood near the edge of the seat, blocking his exit path. He reached into the case and…
Gun.
He had a gun in the case. Anya stepped forward and crouched, reaching for her boot, the sickening smell of his sweet cologne filling her nostrils.
He removed a stack of papers and closed the case.
Anya eased. She sat down across from him at the dinette, pulling the knife from her boot, slipping it under her leg on the seat. She could easily slice the inside of his thigh from under the table.
Stay calm. Be ready to move.
Thomas held the papers across the table, presenting them to her. “No need for concern, Mrs. Baron. Like I mentioned, I’m not here to cause any harm. My intention is to handle our business in a way that suits us both.”
Among the papers were Anya’s files from Chilton’s office.
The heater unit under the window kicked on, and the papers fluttered in the fan’s warm air.
Thomas calmly laid his hand on the stack. “I saw you stopped by Mr. Chilton’s office earlier today, so let’s cut to the chase and be straight with each other. I reckon we both understand the situation at hand.”
Anya held his gaze, daring him to look away. “You need to know that I called the police and reported Chilton’s murder. They should be here any minute.”
Thomas didn’t react. “I reckon you might be bluffing, Mrs. Baron. However, I suspect we’ll find out soon enough. Personally, I’d prefer we kick off our dealings with a foundation of mutual trust.”
“If that were true, Mr. Thomas, you would not have boarded my boat without my permission.” Anya struggled to make her voice sound confident. “I guess you should get on with it and state your business, then. And, it’s Miss Baron. My husband is deceased and I did not take his name.”
Thomas nodded. “I get it. I want you to know I’m ready to make you an exceedingly generous offer for your fishing cabin and island, with some conditions tacked on.”
Anya flipped through the pages the stranger handed her. There was a bill of sale for the fishing cabin. “My fishing cabin is not for sale.”
“If you’ll focus on the figure there in front of you”—Thomas smiled—“I think this proposal might alter your position.”
“I don’t…” She looked at the bottom of the page.
The amount was staggering. Anya strained not to look surprised.
It was many times what the little island could possibly be worth.
She let out a long breath and steadied her voice before trying to respond.
“And what would those tacked-on conditions be?”
He reached for the attaché again. Anya tensed her grip on the wood of the fillet knife handle.
Smooth slice, top to bottom. All the way to the bone. Like the first cut on a big halibut.
Thomas raised the lid of the case and removed another document. Anya checked her reach. He was tall and spindly and his knees extended almost to her side of the table.
Pin his leg to the left with mine, duck and cut. He can’t be that fast with his gun.
Thomas lowered the top of the case and latched it again.
Anya relaxed, sliding the knife back beneath her thigh, taking the papers with her left hand.
“This sum should set you up as quite the affluent lady.” Thomas smiled. “In return, you commit to keeping hushed any details about the property you’re parting with, your transactions with our firm, and any demand for further funds from your deceased husband’s estate.”
“And why is keeping my mouth shut so important to you?” Anya asked. “What do I know that you’re willing to pay—”
“If you reject, regrettably”—Thomas put his hand on top of his case—“I’ll be obliged to handle matters with you just as I did with your uncooperative lawyer.”
She held the pen over the signature line on the bill of sale.
Fast enough to fight him now?
Anya signed.
No point risking it all. Smarter to play along.
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Baron.” Thomas slipped the papers into his attaché. “My office will handle the paperwork upon my safe return to St. Louis, and you should receive a cashier’s check shortly after. I assume our communication ends here.”
I certainly hope so.
“It would be regrettable for both of us if you fail to honor our agreement.” Thomas stood and moved toward the door. “I’ll see myself out. Good day, Miss Baron.”
See yourself out? It’s a fucking boat. Walk two steps and you’re out the door.
As the door closed, Anya let out a sigh of relief. When that check arrived, she would be rich. She didn’t quite know what to make of that. It seemed like Chilton might have done all right by her after all—even if it was his last act.
What had made Thomas so nervous that he had flown all the way to Alaska to murder Chilton and to pay her such an extraordinary sum for—her island fishing cabin, of all things? And to protect…what? What secret was he hiding?
Why had Thomas murdered Chilton? It obviously wasn’t self-defense.
What would she do with this amount of money? She could see buying more fishing boats, and maybe a packer? She might want to move to Sitka and set herself up here? She’d never really contemplated being wealthy before.
Anya climbed the ladder to the bridge to watch Thomas leave.
He turned from the finger onto the main dock as two uniformed policemen started down the ramp from the parking lot.
They walked in slow motion as the distance between them and Thomas closed.
Anya’s pulse pounded in her ears.
Thomas gave a slight, polite nod as he passed the officers. He then turned briefly back toward Lady Melinda before disappearing at the top of the ramp.