Under the Alaskan Ice

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Under the Alaskan Ice Page 7

by Karen Harper


  “Actually no.” Her eyes watered from a stifled yawn. “Too much to think about. I hope we don’t have to hike back to the lodge through all that snow. And what if the mystery man shows up again?”

  “Got that all covered. Mayor Purvis is sending two men in a snowmobile we can take back to the lodge. They will guard my plane and the crash site. State troopers are also on their way. Thankfully, looking into what happened to Steve should keep them busy long enough for me to finish my investigation of the crash site before I have too many eyes looking over my shoulder. My own men won’t be here until tomorrow.”

  She nodded and unsnapped her seat belt, surprised to see she still had it on. She needed a shower. She needed to talk to Chip and Suze. She needed sleep and to get off the emotional roller coaster she’d been on since this man came into her life.

  He helped her up. “Again,” he said, “you have been a tremendous help. I should put you on salary.”

  “I would not be good at taking orders from your Big Man boss.”

  He grimaced, then grinned. Their gazes met and held. He said, “The assignment I had overseeing the pulling of thousands of pounds of old fishing nets from West Coast bays was worthwhile—green ops, the team called it, you know, eco-friendly. Same with the kelp-and-micro-algae farm I have a large share in. Sometimes assignments come along that are baffling but of key importance too.”

  “This beautiful area is worth protecting, especially if that unmarked plane and anonymous pilot were up to no good. I’m glad I could help. But I’m sure you understand, not just for my sake but Chip’s, I can’t become—well, further involved.”

  He nodded but he looked so sad she felt terrible. She sensed he understood she was saying she could not get further involved not only with a mysterious mission, but with him.

  * * *

  Sleep and showers back at the lodge were quickly put on hold, not only because Suze and Chip deserved to hear some of what had happened, but because the mayor, Rand Purvis, was there, pacing, waiting for an update of what had happened to Steve at the lake.

  After she and Bryce filled him in, she went to wash up and spent some time with Chip. Even when she came back out, it seemed to her that the mayor’s personality reigned in the common room of the lodge.

  Mayor Randal Purvis, called Rand, was a large man with a loud voice who seemed to have his hands into everything around Falls Lake. His father had been a homesteader and hunter, but Rand was a man of the times and not a throwback to any of that local wilderness history. He owned the bank and had shares in the gas station and the largest grocery and dry goods store in town. Both of his sons were being educated at the University of Oregon. A man of many talents, Rand was a person to be reckoned with.

  “Still nothing on that pilot or plane?” Meg heard him ask Bryce, nearly pinning him in his chair the moment Bryce appeared again from his room for the lunch Suze had laid out for them.

  “Still ongoing. Thanks for lending me those two guards for a while. Can’t afford to have anyone else hurt. Steve’s injuries make this a criminal investigation already. I understand state troopers have started their sweep of the area, looking for any sign of his attacker. After another dive with my new team, I may have more news then—for you and my sponsors, not for media consumption.”

  “Hell, no. Don’t want any of that. I’m not the kind of public servant that thinks any news is good news. My key concern is to protect the citizens of Falls Lake at any cost.”

  Meg had often thought that the mayor would fit the old stereotype of a glad-handing politician, but he did not physically look the part. He wore trendy, expensive sports clothes instead of the usual local lumberjack look. His hair had a conservative cut, and he was clean-shaven. He looked the part of a judge, or a big city mayor, not a rural one. He cared deeply about anyone in danger, she’d give him that. More than once she’d heard he’d donated to down-and-out individuals around here, and there were plenty of those on the fringes of Falls Lake. And he did keep the lid on drunks or lawbreakers in the area with no more than advice or coercion, which had always impressed her.

  She sat across the table from Bryce, who was wolfing down a turkey sandwich. The mayor was now over at the reception desk, talking to Suze. The ski guests who had come for the long Thanksgiving weekend were gone, and Suze, despite being sad and angry about what had happened to Steve, had been glad to hear that three men were coming later today to join Bryce’s dive team.

  All Meg wanted to do was sleep, though she had to admit she’d miss having Bryce by her side, even though they’d spent last night half slumped, half sitting up stiffly in a strange place.

  “You’re going right to bed?” Bryce asked as he switched from his sandwich to a mound of coleslaw.

  “I’ve got to get back in the saddle,” she said, not looking at him. “I want to make it up to Suze for her doing all my work last night and today so far. I plan to get up early to make candy tomorrow so I can restock my outlets in town. So I guess I’ll be retiring early, and also retiring from helping with secret diver business.”

  “Just the business part, I hope,” he said as he reached out for a chocolate chip cookie. “Not the personal support to one diver, that is.”

  “Bryce, I just can’t—”

  “Let’s talk about it in the morning when we’re not exhausted,” he said and simply gave her shoulder a little squeeze as he got up and headed down the hall toward his room.

  She sat there, unmoving, feeling deflated, even empty. And she missed him already. He was right, though. She was just tired, she told herself. Just tired.

  Then she saw something so strange that she had to get up and go over to the desk where Suze was checking someone else in. She could tell the mayor was surprised too. He hovered, pretending to watch the big TV on the wall but watching the scene out of the corner of his eye with his head cocked to overhear.

  “Got me a little windfall,” the guest was telling Suze as Meg joined her behind the check-in counter. “Sold a collection of old Life magazines, some stretching back to the 1890s. You believe that? Real valuable, so maybe I better start lookin’ more at what I got squirreled away, know what I mean?”

  “Sure do, Mr. Getz,” Suze said. “So how long will you be staying with us here in civilization?”

  He laughed at that. His guffaw was as gravelly as his voice, maybe since he was the town hermit, not usually talking much. Suze laughed too, and Meg forced a smile. People talked about the town recluse who was known to be a hoarder. She had never seen this man up close.

  She’d hear that he would scavenge through trash cans and insisted on keeping Falls Lake “green,” while collecting junk in his truck, then taking it to recycling places clear to Anchorage, where he got money back. But they said he just piled up stuff too. He was kind of a legend around here, like Johnny Appleseed or some Disney character. Chip would be enthralled when he heard Bill Getz was moving in for a while.

  “Be staying just a few days. Put me down for four or five. Good hot showers, good food and not fixin’ anything myself, like I done died and gone to heaven,” he said, signing his name in the guest book Suze extended to him.

  Meg was actually glad that the mayor had heard all that. Who knew how this loner would fit in here? Mayor Purvis didn’t go over to talk to Bill Getz, but just lifted a hand to Suze and headed out the front door.

  Meg heard his snowmobile start. She’d peek in on Chip and the dogs, then take a shower and fall into bed. And hope she didn’t dream about Bryce Saylor.

  * * *

  However sleepy she still was, Meg had set her alarm for 5 a.m. to give herself time to make some candy before she met Josh in the kitchen at six thirty to work on breakfast. At least they didn’t have the voracious skiers to feed today.

  Now she carefully melted the hunks of shaved dark chocolate in her cooking pot. She stirred it while she pressed the tinfoil paper wrappings into the tiny
cups. She’d have to time them carefully to give each chocolaty peak a little loop on its top before it hardened, then cool them and close the wrapper with a twist. She loved the curly tops of her candy kisses.

  At the last minute, she measured out the sea salt to stir into the dark, thick batch. It was just the right consistency, yielding but not too soft when she spooned a careful amount into each of the little cups.

  While they were cooling, she popped one into her mouth. Delicious. She tried not to eat many of her wares but, after all, it was just like having a cup of hot morning cocoa. Well, maybe a bit richer. She set her timer to ding when the chocolate would be completely pliable for that last touch on top of the kisses.

  “I thought I might find you here. You said you would be making candy early.”

  She spun around. Bryce, shaved, neatly dressed in jeans and a green-and-black-plaid wool shirt, was standing in the open doorway. He seemed to shrink the small room, to pull her closer without touching her.

  “Yes, I’m working on a batch.” She said the obvious as her cheeks heated, and not from the stove. And then she made it worse. “Kisses,” she blurted.

  His blue eyes burned into hers. “I like the sound of that. I’m willing. Have been from the first time I climbed out of that icy water. I saw you and wasn’t cold anymore.”

  “K-kisses, the kind of c-candy,” she stammered.

  He came around her worktable. “I know,” he said, his voice comforting, mesmerizing. “It smells delicious in here, and I like what I see. I’ll take the whole batch, but I’d like a little taste first.”

  She reached for one. “They’re not quite ready yet,” she said, but she blew on it and lifted it to his mouth. “A little hot,” she whispered.

  “I can tell. I like that.”

  He took the piece of dark chocolate from her fingers, licking them a bit too. Oh, no. This was going to happen. Not so early in the morning, after she’d definitely decided she could not let things—her feelings for him, her attraction to him—go further.

  “You have some on your mouth too,” she said.

  He put his hands on her aproned waist to tug her closer.

  She was going to melt in his arms. He pressed her lightly against him. He bent slightly, tipped his head, lifted her chin and took her lips. She felt his every touch down to her belly and beyond.

  He kissed her carefully, then thoroughly, slanting his head, with his tongue skimming the inside of her lips, a sweet invasion. She kissed him back and neither came up for air.

  Then she responded like a mad woman, throwing her arms around his neck and coming closer as their lips slanted, opened as if to devour each other’s kisses. What had come over her? This man—who wasn’t her husband—was making her feel things she hadn’t felt since Ryan had died. She wasn’t ready to process the implications of that. Not while she was wrapped in his arms and everything about the embrace felt surprisingly right. Maybe this was what it felt like to finally move forward? Bryce felt so good, so strong that she could have flown.

  So what if the tips of her candy kisses were ready for a twist, just like her once quiet life?

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I can’t believe you got that color on your cheeks from the sun’s reflection off the ice yesterday,” Suze told Meg that morning. “Are you feeling okay after all you’ve been through? I’ve heard hospitals aren’t exactly the places to stay healthy.” She peered closer at Meg, who turned away and kept clearing the table.

  Her twin sister had eyes like a hawk. Meg knew she was still flushed from merely thinking about Bryce’s kisses this morning—and the crazed way she’d kissed him back. He’d gone to his room after breakfast to confer again with his boss while he was waiting for the three-man dive team to arrive, so at least he wasn’t around to see her blushes. She scolded herself for acting like a sixteen-year-old girl.

  “I’m fine,” she told Suze in the kitchen.

  “Bryce thinks you are.”

  “No comment.”

  “Megan Metzler, just relax. As one who hasn’t had that bell ring yet, like Alex did with Quinn and you did with Ryan, I’m just telling you, inhale and enjoy. Take advantage—smell the roses along the way, even in this cold weather.”

  “Get involved so he can fly off into the sunset the minute he’s done here? Sorry. It’s just I’m really torn.”

  “About falling for another pilot or falling in love period? He’s good with Chip. He’s doing important work. He lives in Juneau, not Miami or Morocco. He’ll be here for at least a little while longer. What’s that old saying—make hay while the sun shines?”

  Suze was just too full of old sayings today, but Meg kept quiet about that. She kept rinsing plates and putting them in the dishwasher rack. “I need someone who’s settled,” she finally said. “I know he has a house in Juneau, but I mean someone who doesn’t have a career with tinges of James Bond and those old TV reruns of Sea Hunt Chip likes to watch.” She spun to face her sister. “Suze, his dive rope was severed. He’s investigating a plane tied to criminals for all I know. Worse, his partner was almost killed by someone sneaking up and hitting him from behind!”

  “I get all that. But I don’t think the choice of men around here is the greatest. Who do we get staying here? Hikers, guys who attend Quinn’s tracking camp and skiers. I think the ones who just left might have been smoking pot in their room. And now the town hoarder, Bill Getz. Sorry, hon, didn’t mean to let my own longings creep in. Of course, you have to do what you have to do.”

  They both turned back to work as Josh came in to take waste baskets out to the dumpster. Meg knew Suze was giving advice because she loved her and Chip. Of course, she had to hold Bryce at arm’s length. Yet no matter what her own mouth and brain were saying, why was she in such a battle with her heart?

  * * *

  It was midafternoon when an Uber from the Anchorage airport dropped off Bryce’s newly assigned diving buddies. Meg was at the front desk to give Suze her midafternoon break. The three men’s gear alone gave away who they were.

  She looked down at the note in Bryce’s handwriting he’d left for them: Keith Okudah, Nate Young and Bob Morrow.

  “Welcome to the Falls Lake Lodge,” she told them with a smile. “We—and Bryce Saylor—are expecting you. I’ll check you in, then ring his room.”

  “Hi, I’m Keith Okudah,” a big-shouldered African American man introduced himself. “How much daylight is left? Want to see if we can dive today.”

  The oldest of the men, who introduced himself as Nate, answered his question for him. “Depends on how far Falls Lake is.”

  “How about signing in here?” she asked, pivoting the guestbook toward them. “Commander Bryce has all the answers you’ll need.”

  The brown-haired, crew-cut Caucasian guy—he was signing as Robert Morrow—said, with a sideways glance at Keith, “He usually does, but maybe not on this gig.”

  She rang Bryce’s room and told him his crew was here. “Thanks. Be right out,” he said, all business. But she couldn’t help remembering his mouth on hers, his hands...

  “Here are your room keys, not the electronic kind,” she said, handing their old-fashioned metal keys over. “Needless to say, this isn’t our busy time of year, so it’s pretty quiet.”

  “That can change fast, but we hope it doesn’t,” Keith said. “If it’s calm and quiet around here, let’s keep it that way.”

  But as Bryce came striding into the common room with a smile on his face and his hand outstretched to shake his new teammates’ hands, Meg was certain things would never be calm and quiet for her again as long as he was here.

  * * *

  Despite the fact that light snow was falling about two hours later, Bryce took his new divers to the site of the crash. The two guys from Mayor Purvis’s staff were still on site and glad to get their snowmobile back since Bryce had rented the two the lodge owned
. The open expense account and the fact the Big Man had sent three divers instead of one this time made him realize how important this assignment was, and he had to get things moving fast.

  He made introductions all around, then thanked the two guys the mayor had loaned him and let them go. He had enough crew now and didn’t want them to hang around to tell the mayor or anyone else what they might turn up today. It was bad enough having state troopers in the area, searching for evidence of Steve’s attacker. It was only a matter of time before they’d ask Bryce to turn over his own findings regarding the crash site.

  He had Bob Morrow handle the dive rope and watch the entrance hole—which they had to break through again—while he dove with Nate Young. He put Keith Okudah in charge of the overall mission and operation site while he and Nate were under water, so they had two surface guards again.

  “We’re looking for pilot and aircraft ID and possible contraband,” he reminded Nate. “You watch and guard me, but keep your eyes open in case I miss something down there. At least we’ve got more underwater lights this time. You got the lift bags and my video camera?”

  “Roger that, and a couple of evidence recovery containers. Been a forensic diver too long not to go prepared.”

  “Things are icing over down there, so we may have to break or pry something loose, but preserving information and evidence is everything. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Their first-time guest Bill Getz was driving Meg and Suze up the wall. Not that he was a thief per se, but he did have sticky fingers, going through their trash, wanting to help Josh at the dumpster, asking if he could have old magazines they had stacked on the shelves or side tables.

  “Well,” Suze whispered, “if he makes his money like this—cleaning up for others, in a way—I don’t mind. If Josh ever quits, we could hire him part-time. Yes, that’s a joke.”

 

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