by Karen Harper
“And anything else they put their minds and talents to,” Ginger chimed in.
“Ah—exactly. That will bring up our viewer numbers with the female demographic.”
Brent shook his head, but Quinn grinned as everyone lifted their glasses and offered best wishes. Alex saw Meg grab a glass out of Chip’s hand he must have snatched from the table.
Spenser barked. Alex and Quinn kissed to cheers and applause. She had never been happier. After all they’d been through, surely they would have smooth sailing ahead.
Everyone went back to eating and chatting. Meg disappeared into the lodge and returned, trailing the local postal carrier, who covered a huge area around the town. Meg gestured to Quinn and Alex, and they went over.
“Certified letter for you, Quinn,” the man said, handing it over along with Quinn’s usual stack of mail. “You got to sign for it.”
He thrust out a form on a clipboard, and Quinn signed.
“Best to you and the new missus,” the man said, evidently thinking this was a wedding party.
“Help yourself to some food before you go, Larry,” Quinn told him.
“Well, don’t mind if I do,” he said, and moved away.
Quinn stared down at the letter with its handwritten address partly obscured by the green form attached to it. He frowned.
“Not just fan mail?” Alex asked.
“I think it’s from Valerie Chambers’s sister. Remember, Val said she lives in Mission Viejo, California, and has the same last name. See—Mission Viejo and Melanie Chambers,” he said, showing her as if she wouldn’t believe it.
“My address is on my website, though most people write through email. I hate to duck out of our party,” he said, “but let’s step inside for a sec and read this.”
They went into the common room, sat on a long couch and huddled over the letter as he opened it. “Yes, Valerie’s sister, thanking the people who knew Val—not including Ryker, she says.”
“Maybe she suspects him of killing her.”
He nodded and went on, “She appreciates Val’s friends here who may have helped her,” he summarized as she saw him skim the letter. Another piece of paper, different from the letter, fell out on Quinn’s knee and Alex retrieved it.
“She thought we should have this primitive drawing Val did,” he went on reading, “because maybe it means something to someone there—kind of strange, and she can’t tell what it is, she says.”
Alex opened it carefully and smoothed it flat on her knee. It was small and crisscrossed with creases. She bent over it, then sat straight up. “What?” Quinn asked as he moved closer to study it.
“It’s a sketch of the bear claw carving outside my bedroom window—like the one outside Sam and Mary’s. But why would Val’s sister in California have this? Val must have sent it to her, but why? And why is it so...scrunched up?”
He turned back to the letter. “Near the bottom, she writes that she’s sorry the paper’s a mess, but she found it hidden beneath the lining of Val’s purse, which was returned to her with her other things. Just wait,” he muttered, frowning, “until I tell the troopers their forensic team missed this when they emptied her purse.”
“So could Val have copied the design from this to carve it outside my window and on Sam and Mary’s house? But I can’t see her trekking around to do that—and then she ends up with something similar scratched on her body. I don’t get it. But look, there’s some really tiny writing scribbled next to some of the marks.”
He took it from her and held it up to the window light. “I think it says, Worth it! Then $50,000 and LA here we come!”
“Let me see,” she said, crowding close to him. “You’re right—and over on these other claw designs something else. Is that...a phone number? And there’s another sentence here—I think it says ‘Use only b. paw Br bought in NYC, not Ry’s—then give back.’ Quinn, I’m not sure, but do you know what that could mean?”
He kept squinting at it. “We have to be sure. Have you seen a magnifying glass around here?”
“I think Suze might have one in the junk drawer.”
She got up and went into the kitchen, which was in some disarray as a storage and serving place for the food outside. She checked some drawers but found no magnifying glass. She’d have to ask Suze, but they needed to return to their guests. She heard Quinn come in behind her. “I can’t find it, but maybe we found the murderer.”
“It can’t be him. Too long distance. Too far out in other ways.”
As if their fears had summoned him, she spun around to see Brent standing alone in the doorway. Starting to tremble, she told him, “We’re coming right back out.”
“Someone overheard you received something from poor Val’s sister,” he said. “A bear claw drawing and what else?”
The reality of her fears hit her like a punch in the stomach. “Oh, just a thank-you for our finding and caring for her body before the troopers and squad could get here.”
“I see.”
“And I see, too,” Quinn said. “I just managed to pick out a New York area code and phone number I recognized on Val’s drawing of bear claw designs. I’ll check it on my phone to be sure it’s yours, Brent, but she also had a large sum of money listed alongside the words worth it.”
“She asked me for my number in case she ever needed a lawyer for Ryker, since he was acting erratically. She was afraid he might try to dump her one way or the other. I still believe he’s the one who killed her.”
“Really?” Quinn said. “I can’t picture her making the bear claw marks in the dark and walking the woods at night, but if she had a diagram to follow and had been promised a large sum of money—and a job for Ryker in LA, that might have been enough to make her do it.”
Brent was facing Quinn, but Alex could see the older man tensing his body, as if he would run. He flexed his fists while Quinn didn’t move from blocking the door. She prayed he didn’t have a gun. Quietly, carefully, Alex opened the drawer again where she’d seen a rolling pin.
Quinn said, “Trooper Kurtz isn’t in uniform, but let’s get him in here and in on this.”
“And ruin the festivities?” Brent demanded, his voice rising. “I think you both had better get back out there.”
Alex felt they knew the truth now. Brent Bayer had not wanted to get his hands dirty or possibly get caught for making the bear claw threats, so he’d bribed Val to carve the claw marks, promised her money and a job in LA for Ryker. Then something had gone awry—she wanted more, she threatened to tell, something. Or she just wanted to give the bear claw back which he’d brought from New York so it couldn’t be traced here.
But when he saw he’d misjudged, Brent had either not been willing to lose the series videographer, or he just wanted to be rid of Val—and scare Alex away from Quinn with marks outside her bedroom at the lodge. Then to make it possibly seem like a ghostly curse, he’d decided to have Val do the same to the wall outside Sam and Mary’s place. Maybe in Brent’s mind they were expendable for the series, too, so he could isolate and control Q-Man.
Quinn said, “You were wrong, Brent, about not featuring women on the show or building an audience for them. But you wanted to draw more viewers in by exploiting the ghost angle. I think you and I need to sit down right now with Geoff and Trooper Kurtz to hash this out—”
Brent ducked and tried to lunge past him. Quinn went off balance, reached out to snag his arm, to stop him, but the man vaulted through the door and ran across the common room toward the front of the lodge. No wonder he’d driven his own rental car from the airport for once and parked it right outside.
Quinn was right behind him, with Alex leading up the rear, rolling pin in hand. Suddenly, Kurtz arrived, too. “What’s going on in here?”
“Brent bribed Val to do his dirty work, then she rebelled or wanted more money, threatened to expose him,” Ale
x said. “You killed her, didn’t you?” she shouted at Brent, throwing the wooden rolling pin at him as he reached the front door with Quinn in pursuit.
The rolling pin bounced off Brent’s shoulder. Quinn grabbed him, swung him around. Kurtz helped Quinn subdue the struggling man, who shocked them all by bursting into tears.
“She had it coming!” Brent exploded. “Can’t trust women at all, any of them! You’ll learn that, Quinn—they’ll screw things up one way or the other. This messed-up world is letting women take over! Glad I tracked down Alex’s jilted fiancé. I understood the poor guy she’d deserted...made him an offer, too, but of course she ruined things again!”
“You can make any statement you want after I read you your rights,” the trooper told him.
Alex realized the pieces all fit now, broken and awful as they might be. She bet Val with her big purse and Brent with his backpack had met just outside Quinn’s property to exchange money—or a bear paw. Maybe she’d asked for more, maybe she’d said she’d talk—and he’d killed her and scratched her up, thinking a bear would be blamed.
She scrambled for a clothesline rope so Kurtz and Quinn could tie up Val’s briber, hater and killer, the man who had betrayed Alex to Lyle so she was almost murdered, too. A powerful, bitter man who hated women because a woman—maybe more than one—had hurt him.
When she got back with the rope, Quinn pressed Brent to the floor, and they tied him, then the trooper used his cell to call for backup. “Yes, murder suspect, under arrest...” was all she heard as she and Quinn moved away. “I’m going to read him his rights now,” she heard Kurtz say into the phone. Brent kept glaring at her and Quinn, standing arm in arm.
She knew then the best, maybe the only, thing she could do to help punish Brent for killing Val and siccing Lyle on her—besides testifying at his murder trial someday—was to let him see how much she loved Quinn. She recalled Quinn had said that Brent’s wife had betrayed and left him. Was that the cause of all his bitterness toward women?
She wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Hold that kiss!” Ginger said, suddenly appearing. Geoff trailed behind along with Sam and Mary. Gasps and questions followed when they saw, across the room, Brent tied on the floor.
Hadn’t Ginger and Geoff’s marriage—Sam and Mary’s, too—shown Brent that there were love matches that lasted through tough times? But maybe that had made him even more bitter.
Quinn kissed Alex again and tugged her away, gesturing to the curious onlookers to go back outside, too, that he’d explain everything soon.
Suddenly her pounding pulse began to slow. She felt peace and happiness surround her as Quinn’s arm encircled her and steered her outside, away from the noise and questions. Despite the chilly night, she and Quinn went out on the back patio where they had first met and held tight to each other.
“Sad someone could be so sick and hateful—at women in general,” she whispered, cuddled close with her head tucked under his chin. “I’m sure the world’s recent strides toward women’s equality made him more desperate.”
“I don’t feel desperate anymore—except to marry you. I’m more than willing to let you take over my world.”
“And the same to you, my love.”
She lifted her face for a kiss. Overhead, stars glittered in the sky to match the diamond on her finger. Despite past dangers, deep woods and the desperation of sad, broken people, with her hand now in Quinn’s, she was safe at home.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, don’t miss the next book in
Karen Harper’s Alaska Wild series,
Under the Alaskan Ice.
Coming soon from MIRA Books.
Keep reading for a sneak peek!
UNDER THE ALASKAN ICE
Author’s Note
I love writing trilogies with connected heroines, so I hope you will not only enjoy this book but the two Alaska Wild novels to come, Under the Alaskan Ice and Edge of the Alaskan Cliff, which will feature Megan and Suzanne Collister.
I never had a sister—wish I did, however much I love my brothers—and the idea of having an identical twin sister really intrigued me. When I stumbled on the concept of vanishing twin syndrome online at www.wombtwin.com, I found yet another fascinating possibility of twindom.
Unlike many suspense authors, I always begin with a setting that will work for a frightening story. I look for some place that is unique, beautiful and challenging for my characters. I had originally thought to set this novel in backwoods Michigan, with which I was very familiar, but both my agent and editor suggested I take that “wilderness/deep forest” setting to a whole new level by using Alaska.
That idea suited me perfectly as my husband and I had enjoyed a trip to “the Great Alone” state, and I had written an earlier Alaskan romantic suspense novel called Down River. Besides the vastness and natural beauty we saw on our trip, I was totally intrigued by the bold, unique people. In a way, the wilds of Alaska are “the last American frontier.” I remember speaking with a young woman who was going to marry a man she had not known long and move to “the woods.” “I’m glad,” she said, “we will have electricity next year and running water not long after that.” (!) On the other hand, Anchorage is a huge, dynamic and busy city so the state has great contrasts.
I was also intrigued by a book by Tom Brown, Jr., who teaches tracking skills. I read both The Science and Art of Tracking and Field Guild to Wilderness Survival. His information is not only fascinating but useful, even for someone who usually takes walks in city parks.
Delving into information about Alex’s love of making natural beauty products was fun, too, especially 101 Easy Homemade Products for Your Skin, Health & Home by Jan Berry.
I also owe a lot to a vet tech whom I interviewed—Emily Pickard—who is very knowledgeable and loves her career. I had no clue about a vet tech’s training and specialties; I thought “a vet assistant” was just someone who helped out, but techs are so much more. Emily was generous with her time and advice.
Also, thanks to friend and writer Patricia Matthews (who writes mysteries as Olivia Matthews) for her information about the career of videographers. Her husband is a videographer for various sporting events nationwide. Without their information, I would probably have been back in the “film” universe. Ryker—glad he was innocent!—thanks the Matthewses, too.
The other piece of the background/research puzzle was learning about search and rescue, or SAR, although that knowledge will come into play more in the next Alaska Wild novel. Thanks to former SAR team member Martin Roy Hill for sharing his expertise in a class I took online. SAR rescues are not focused on missing persons but on lost persons. (Missing persons entails a criminal element—someone kidnapped or a criminal intentionally hiding. Lost implies someone who has wandered away—no crime involved—though these lines can blur in an emergency or when a child is involved.)
Thanks also to my friend Sally Pickard for arranging my vet tech interview. Also to longtime writer friend Susan Elizabeth Phillips for info on Naperville, Illinois. And, as ever, to my husband, Don, for proofreading. Always thanks to my guides through my rom/sus novel writing career, editor Emily Ohanjanians and agent Annelise Robey.
I hope you will look for books two and three in the Alaska Wild trilogy, featuring Meg and Suze, though Alex and Quinn will be around, too.
Please visit me at my website at www.KarenHarperAuthor.com or my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/KarenHarperAuthor.
Karen Harper
July 2019
Setting as Character
In the more than three decades I have been published, I have learned so much about writing not only from reading but from other authors. One of the things that surprised me is that most novelists begin with a plot idea or particular main character in mind, whereas I’ve always begun with a setting I love or that in
trigues me. In my writing, the setting is key, and then the other story elements will fall into place.
This is even true of my historical novels based on the true stories of actual women. I always start with British or American settings and eras and then find my heroine’s story from there, because those two countries are the cultures and places I know best.
For my contemporary romantic suspense novels, where I place my plots in the US is of key importance to me. As a born and bred Ohioan, I have used my home state in a variety of novels, especially my Amish stories. Often, however, I’m impacted by a place I visit which grabs my imagination. If I find a place intriguing, a story usually starts forming in my head, hopefully later to be brought to life.
That was the case when we visited our nephew in Denver and stayed at his home high on Black Mountain above Conifer, a suburb. I had no more returned to Ohio than a heroine, her predicament—and her home area—came to me for the novel The Hiding Place, because I liked the unique setting. Likewise, my visits to and knowledge of Appalachia led me to write the Cold Creek trilogy set there.
The point, however, is not just to choose a beautiful, challenging or intriguing place, but then to bring it to life with details so that it becomes another character—a key character. Setting as a character in novels interacts with the human characters and may change during the course of the book, just like a person.
The best example I can think of which everyone might be familiar with is the doomed ship Titanic in numerous stories and movies. The (character of the) ship begins as a safe haven for other characters on the dark, cold sea. It’s a warm, glitzy, friendly, welcoming place. Of course, then—in the best style of a murder novel—the ship turns into an enemy to escape from and then a killer, a mass murderer.