Under the Alaskan Ice

by Karen Harper

  She smiled at the mere thought of time together, maybe someday not to be hatching schemes and fearing someone was watching or hostile. He’d be gone with the wind once this case was settled. So why was she trying to help him to solve it?

  * * *

  Bryce knocked twice and came into the cluttered room she used as a pantry and kitchen adjunct and to make her candies. “There’s something homey about this,” he observed, looking around. “I’d better take the wire back. You’ve worn it a long time.”

  “I can do it.”

  “Darn, but I do like a woman with a ‘can do’ attitude. Kismet that we met, right? But not enough kisses.”

  She had turned slightly away to open her blouse and take the wire and its little control box out of her bra, but his hands came around her to help. That didn’t help because that mere move robbed her of what strength and self-control she had left around him. She was exhausted and yet energy shot through her at his merest touch.

  He helped her lift the wire out of her bra and put it down on her worktable. His hands were back on her immediately, sliding under the bra where the wire had been, then lifting the black material away to cup one breast.

  Her entire body leaped alert. Heat, but goose bumps. Desire weakened her knees as she turned in his arms for a mutual kiss.

  At least he held them both up, because the room was spinning. He slanted his mouth over hers, taking, but giving too. She loved it, loved him, she realized, and wanted him too. They grappled at each other, both breathing hard, keeping the kiss going.

  One hard hand dropped to her back, then lower to cup her bottom, pulling her even tighter to him. She caressed and gripped his shoulders, his neck. He nearly lifted her off her feet. If there had been anything but a worktable and a chair, she was certain he would have laid her down on it and she would have welcomed each touch and thrust. Anywhere with him would be wonderful, would be so right. She stunned herself that she was so needy, so ready for him in here and in her life.

  Dizzy, crazy. But footsteps in the hall, maybe Suze. Surely not Getz or even Chip.

  Breathing hard, looking as frenzied as he did the night she’d seen him almost drown, he set her back a bit.

  “Kissing you is like that underwater bomb going off,” he whispered. “But I don’t want to get away—just closer. But that sounded like Rafe in the hall. Got to go out before he comes looking for me. We have a date tomorrow—at the newlyweds’ house.”

  He steadied her, looking her up and down. She realized her blouse was still open and her bra askew. He looked there, then up to her face. Her lips tingled, and her stomach cartwheeled. She felt she was blushing but he seemed reddish too.

  “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered. “More ways than one, we’re both going to need it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The next day, after conferring privately with Rafe about surveilling the mayor’s house and then his plans to check out Bill Getz’s place as soon as he could manage, Bryce invited Rafe to his room, where they called the Big Man.

  “Those ideas may be shots in the dark,” their boss said, “but go ahead with the surveillance today. As for that local eccentric character just happening to show up at the lodge in time to watch everything, why would he be so obvious in his lurking?”

  “Unless he’s such an eccentric that everyone has just learned to ignore him. But if he’s hoarding—collecting, as he says—odd things at his house, who knows what could be there?”

  “Yeah. His lair is worth a look. But another search warrant is not forthcoming, and you cannot get caught for breaking and entering, so figure that one out. And I want you to steer clear of our men going through the dead pilot’s place. Your civilian informant will need to get you there—to the lookout building to watch the mayor and his pals, then to the hoarder’s cache.”

  “Right. If I thought she was in danger, I’d leave her here, but she’s been invaluable. I kid her that she’s going to be put on salary.”

  Rafe rolled his eyes.

  His boss replied, “More like if she can help to solve this mess, I’ll ask the Bigger Man to give her the Medal of Honor. Just kidding, but we could use more women in our line of work. We just cannot have civilians talking too much, filing lawsuits or showing up as collateral damage.”

  “That’s for sure. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  “Including getting too involved with you? I’m picking up vibes here that go beyond business.”

  That was enough of that trending topic, Bryce thought as he shortly after ended the call.

  Rafe asked, “He’s letting you use Meg?”

  Bryce nodded. “But I don’t like to think of it that way—using her.”

  “I hear you. I’m trying to keep my thoughts off Suzanne, trying to just keep things friendly. I want to encourage her artistic talent but she’s really shy about it.”

  “This stakeout of the mayor’s house is a long shot, but what else do we have right now? And the antique jewelry connection to Melissa McKee is another maybe-too-obvious link.”

  “You check into her husband’s activities? You said he’s a real estate broker, something like that. If so, he could have a lot of safe places to stash stolen treasure.”

  “Never met him, never saw him, but he may show up at the birthday bash tonight. I suppose the mayor’s wife and McKee’s husband are worth looking at for their possible connections. I’ll ask Meg what she knows. She’s packing a picnic basket as if this is some fun little day trip.”

  “Yeah, well, good luck, and I’ll keep an eye on things—and people.”

  “Especially Suzanne,” Bryce teased, jabbing his arm lightly as Rafe headed for the door. “You can’t kid me.”

  “Takes one to know one. And be damn careful you don’t get spotted. This isn’t underwater surveillance.”

  “Then why do I feel I’m swimming against a deep water current with sharks lurking?”

  * * *

  Later that day, Bryce let Meg drive again since he had no idea where Alex and Quinn’s place was. No one had shoveled the driveway, which meant leaving tire tracks. But Meg had a garage door opener as well as a key so they could go right into the single-car garage. He didn’t worry about the fact they were entering in the last hour of daylight since it was evidently fairly common for Suze’s and Meg’s trucks to be in and out while helping Alex to set things up. The gray-and-white bungalow had been newly repainted, and he bet the interior looked redone too.

  He was right. The faint smell of fresh paint greeted them. The kitchen appliances looked new, and a perfectly clean and non-sagging sofa unit was grouped around the fireplace. No way they could light a fire tonight, and it was chilly in here, but the whole place looked inviting. Meg had told him about how Alex and Quinn had ended up together—with a wistful expression, he thought.

  “Until it gets dark, let’s lie low, not step in front of a window,” he told her when they put their gear down. They took off their coats but kept their heavy sweaters on. “We can’t use anything but our flashlights after dark either, but I bet that big place across the way throws a lot of light over here through its windows.”

  He fished his binoculars out of his duffel bag, then moved a floor lamp back a bit from beside the windows so he could wedge himself in to look across the ravine without stepping into view. “Glad it’s winter so the leaves are down, and there aren’t too many spruces here.” He whistled low. “That’s quite a spread—modern, multileveled—and already decked out for Christmas with swags of pine tree ropes and wreaths.”

  “You’re thinking a small town mayor’s getting a lot of money from somewhere. He does own a few businesses in town, you know.”

  “What can you tell me about his wife, Gloria, or about Melissa McKee’s husband?”

  “I’m pretty sure Gloria Purvis had money from her family. Her father’s deceased, so probably left
her a nice-sized inheritance. She has a brother who runs the family business in Anchorage, so her share was supposedly bought out.”

  “No wonder the mayor buys her gifts. Got to keep a wealthy lady happy in this little burg—excuse that description, but you know what I mean.”

  “She has red hair so she’ll be easy to pick out. She wears clothes a notch up from everyone else—hardly shops around here.”

  “And Melissa McKee’s other half?”

  “I don’t know much about him. He’s in real estate, but doesn’t do a lot of business around here. He owns the company—doesn’t just show and sell, doesn’t pound the pavement, as she put it once.”

  He nodded and resisted the urge to put his arm around her as she hugged the wall to peer out the window past him. Frost had etched the glass but not enough to obscure their view as daylight faded fast.

  He said, “Maybe what we see here will help something break loose in all this, or else the search of Lloyd Witlow’s house and office at the sawmill will, but that’ll have to be in the hands of the state troopers to keep it on the up-and-up.”

  He squeezed behind her and went to the other side of the living room window overlooking the mayor’s property and house from a different angle. “Bingo,” he said. “Car just came up their driveway, and speak of the devil, Melissa’s getting out of it.”

  “I wonder if she’s staying there like the Galsworths did last night. But then, it’s a big house, four bedrooms, I hear.”

  “No husband—no one else—in sight.”

  “That’s odd. Maybe he’ll be here later. Who would want to miss this bash? See, a caterer’s truck from Wasilla is parked by the third garage door.” She pointed and then snatched her hand back as if someone might see it.

  He smiled at her across the window. “This is kind of like watching a movie unfold. You don’t know what’s coming next, but it will up the ante somehow.”

  They both gasped as the mayor hurried out to greet Melissa and put his arm around her waist. There was something strangely intimate about the way he then guided her inside. With his wife and a houseful of guests around?

  Bryce said, “Did that greeting look to you like a welcome-to-my-wife’s-party?”

  “Hardly. His hand was practically brushing over her bottom! They are brazen!”

  * * *

  As early darkness descended outside and twelve other guests arrived, those greeted by the birthday girl herself, Meg was able to identify most of them for Bryce.

  “I guess Suze and I are now in competition with this new lodge in town,” she said.

  She and Bryce used their flashlights, being careful not to let the beams off the floor or reflect in the windows. Not that anyone at the crowded party inside would probably have noticed. Everyone had wine or champagne glasses. People chatted, sat and stood with plates of food and then what looked like chocolate cake with white icing. Some were even dancing, but Meg and Bryce had to go into the guest bedroom to see that. Since the house they were in sat lower on this side of the ravine, they could only see partway into the room.

  “Birthday girl Gloria is showing off her jewelry—see?” Meg said. “I hope it’s new jewelry and not something from those long-dead Southern women who gave to the cause.”

  “You know,” Bryce said, still staring through his binoculars, “sometimes I think I’ve become your cause and I’m grateful.”

  “I want to help you. Oh, look! They’ve turned out all the lights in that room. Do you think they spotted us?”

  “Look at that flickering light. I swear they’re watching a movie.”

  “Or showing home movies? I wish the ravine wasn’t in our way. Then we could sneak up to a window and see what they’re doing. But the party’s over for us until they turn the lights back on.”

  “So let’s break out some of the snacks you brought. I can hum and we can do our own dancing, have our own party.”

  She smiled in the dark. “I brought sliders and cookies and soda.”

  Training her flashlight toward the floor, she started back into the living room, where she’d left her pack. But he put his binoculars down on the dresser and snagged her arm as she passed.

  He started to hum something slow and mellow she didn’t recognize as he gently pulled her into his arms for a dance hold and spun her around once. “I think this song’s called ‘Dancing in the Dark,’” he whispered in her ear. “My father used to sing it and a lot of other oldies.”

  She relaxed from her surprise of being tugged into his arms. Dancing...in...the dark. Here, just the two of them, alone. Watching others, looking for answers, spotting forbidden emotions between two suspects, but now...

  He moved them back and forth, then stood still. “The minute their lights go back on, we’re back to the windows,” he told her. “Maybe dereliction of duty is just what I need right now.”

  His lips moved in her hair. His voice seemed to vibrate clear through her. He dipped his head to kiss her, and she kissed him back, as ever swamped by her senses around this man.

  “You think Alex and Quinn would mind?” he asked and tugged her down on the double bed with him.

  She didn’t answer as he kissed her deeper, harder. His hands caressed her waist and slid beneath her heavy sweater and shirt to ride up under her bra. “Great place for a listening device,” he whispered. “Great place for kissing,” he added, as he opened her sweater and skillfully unhooked her bra.

  And then it began, mad and mindless touching, stroking, kissing—her mouth, down her throat and beyond. His hands were everywhere, including inside her pants, while she held on to him, dizzy, crazy.

  Finally, he lifted his head, out of breath. It was dark in here but she was certain she could see his face, his eyes.

  “I told myself this would be all business,” he said, sounding breathless. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I have real trouble keeping my thoughts and hands off you.”

  “Well—well, good,” Meg said, surprised by the confidence in her voice. She hadn’t felt ready to be with another man after Ryan—until she met Bryce. He’d caught her off guard and something about being with him just felt so...right.

  “I’m wondering if we can find some time together like this—not on a stakeout, not when I’m not prepared with protection—you know what I mean,” he almost stammered. He seemed to radiate heat, but she did too. And to think it had been cold in here.

  “I’m hoping you and Chip too, if you want, would come with me to see my home in Juneau over the holidays or even before,” he continued. “I know you need to be with your family at the lodge for Christmas Day itself, maybe just a day or two with me. We’ll take Chip’s new soccer stuff because I have a basement we can play in—and two guest bedrooms, one of which you can have so you and I can play. Think about it, because I know it’s a big step for you, but—”

  They both gasped as a sharp light flooded the room. From the outside. And then a roar split the air.

  “Sounds like a train, but there are no tracks around here!” she cried as they scrambled up. “You think they found us?”

  Keeping back from the window, they squinted out into the light. “A helicopter!” Bryce shouted over the noise. “But it can’t land in the ravine. And there’s no way it can be NTSB.”

  Its lights were still almost blinding, but Meg squinted into it while tugging down her bra and shirt. “Oh,” she said, “it’s letting down a big, long banner. I think there’s writing on it.”

  In the glare of landing lights—though the chopper continued to hover—they read the words on the unfurled banner backward as the letters showed through the wide white piece of cloth. MORE YEARS, MORE LOVE, MORE JEWELRY! —RAND it read from top to bottom.

  “And he was just so cozy with Melissa!” Meg said, almost hissing the woman’s name.

  “Maybe,” Bryce said. “Hard to tell exactly what’s going on f
rom this distance.” The chopper hovered a while longer, then lifted away, trailing the banner. The lights went on across the ravine. Meg felt they’d proved nothing but that she and Bryce wanted each other and he was serious enough to ask her and Chip to visit. She was still shaking either from his touch and kisses or from the shock of that darn helicopter.

  “That banner as good as shouted ‘MORE JEWELRY TO COME!’” she told Bryce. “More shipments of stolen treasure to add to previous deliveries? Ones that aren’t on a doomed plane next time?”

  “More jewelry for Melissa, maybe? From Confederate treasure some other local has hidden away?” he said, echoing her suspicions.

  They continued to watch, but as the evening wore on, the party died down and people started to leave. It wasn’t long before they spotted the mayor leading Melissa outside, just as he had when she arrived—then said good-night with not only a hug but a passionate kiss, one hand clearly rubbing or squeezing her bottom.

  “The plot certainly thickens,” Meg said. “I suppose that confirms it, and explains why the good mayor seems like he’s been hiding something. He has been—an affair!”

  “That definitely helps explain it, but it doesn’t rule him out, especially if this illicit affair has links to precious cargo and a bomb blast at the bottom of Falls Lake.”

  After Melissa was gone, they watched as Mason Nowles came clearly into view for the first time that evening. So he was keeping close contact with the mayor too. A close friendship or a conspiracy to cover up a massive jewelry heist? Instinctively, because of Suze, Meg didn’t like Mason—but who did she like or trust in the glare of light across that deep ditch filled with darkness?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Late on a cold Monday morning, after Meg’s tasks at the lodge were done, she and Bryce told Suze they were going into town. Chip was playing checkers with Rafe, a game Bryce had taught him last night. At least that kept Chip from wanting to go along. Their cover story for taking a look at Bill Getz’s house was that they were delivering some of Meg’s new candy to stores in town—which she intended to do, so that wasn’t a lie.