Her husband was now deceased, had died before their divorce was finalized, leaving her to inherit a good chunk of money. She hadn’t gone back to Washington State because she’d grown fond of Benedict. I envied almost everything about her situation and hoped mine ended as happily, though I still hoped to go back to St. Louis.
Our instructor was named Cecile Throckmorton. The first time I saw her, I’d been looking out the Petition’s window and watched her make her way into the library. She was hard to miss. Just over six feet tall, she was thickly muscled everywhere. I’d asked Orin who she was. He’d told me her name and her past experience as one of the first women to attempt to become a Navy SEAL. She hadn’t succeeded, which had been the biggest blow of her life. She’d escaped to Benedict from Oklahoma after that and two years later was still licking her wounds—those were the words Orin had used. He’d said she didn’t want to go home because she only wanted to find ways to keep moving forward.
I’d asked him if he thought she might be willing to teach me a thing or two about self-defense. His eyes had lit up at the idea, and the next thing I knew, he was knocking on the Petition’s door to inform me about the sign-up sheet that would be taped to the community center’s door that day.
Orin told me Cecile wished she’d thought of giving the classes a long time ago. He’d said she was getting her groove back, her mojo—again, his words. He gave me credit for making her life better. I didn’t want credit; I was just grateful for the things she’d taught Serena, me, and the other five locals—one man and four women—who’d been there for class every week for the last four. We were only at the beginning of our “training,” but flipping Serena onto her back was a big step for me.
“Nice,” Cecile said to me now. “But you’re going to tweak your back if you don’t plant your feet better. You have to be quick, though. Keep at it and it will become instinctual.”
“Okay,” I said.
Cecile began and ended every class with tai chi, and it had helped me just as much as the defensive training had. My need to breathe deeply and calm down had been better handled since I’d started Cecile’s classes. I wished I’d had all these experiences and skills years earlier, and over the last couple of days I’d needed them even more. I needed to get back on track. I hadn’t even realized how much better I’d been doing until the visions of my captor—of Travis Walker—had started nudging their way back into my life. I not only wanted this class to help me. I needed it to.
“All right, everyone. Good job tonight,” Cecile said.
I wiped some sweat off my forehead.
“You all need to work on your cardio,” Cecile continued. “I know it’s difficult to be outside when it’s getting colder and we don’t have a gym around here. I’m having a treadmill and a stationary bike ferried over from Juneau. I got approval to have them set up in the back, by the kitchen. I need promises that you’ll all come use them.”
We all nodded with as much enthusiasm as we could muster at the end of one of Cecile’s exhausting classes. I would do my best to use the equipment, but I was glad it wasn’t something I needed to find energy for that evening.
“Drink?” Serena asked.
“Yes please,” I said.
We each drove our own vehicle back downtown. I parked my truck on the side of the Benedict House, and Serena parked her car on the road in front of the shops. As I passed the mercantile on my way to the bar, I peered into the windows. I couldn’t make out anything behind the drawn shade. Maybe I’ll stop by and see Randy tomorrow, I thought.
Just then, the door was flung open, and I started. I moved out of the way, thinking that Randy would notice me in the dark space under the awning, but when the man in the doorway turned around, it wasn’t Randy at all.
It was Lane.
“Evening,” he said, sending me a quick glance.
I’d opened my mouth to say something, though I’m not sure what greeting would have come out, when he did a double take.
“You,” he said. He turned and faced me. “I never got your name, but you work with the chief.”
I couldn’t see his face well, and the tone in his voice was more critical than curious.
“Beth Rivers,” I said, jutting my chin out a little. I didn’t think he noticed, but I wasn’t going to back down.
He nodded but didn’t approach. With the same critical tone, he said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you, Beth. I didn’t mean to. I was just reacting.”
“Apology accepted.” I kept my hand from going to the spot he’d elbowed.
“I asked Gril to tell you.”
I nodded, but didn’t want him to know that Gril hadn’t mentioned the apology.
“I don’t know what you do with him, but I hope you’ve heard by now that I didn’t know the … woman who was found in my shed. I’m sorry for whatever happened to her.”
“You and Randy are friends?” I asked, noting to myself the odd timing of my question.
Lane paused. “This is where most of us around here get our supplies.”
“Right. Of course.”
“Well, again, I apologize if I hurt you. Good night.”
“Good night.”
I watched him walk toward the dark woods. A part of me wanted to offer him a ride, but it was only a small part. I calculated that he was going to walk about three miles, in the dark, to get back to his house. Maybe that just wasn’t a big deal to him, or to anyone who lived out there.
“Beth?” Serena said as she approached. “Who’s that?”
“His name is Lane, but I don’t know him. I do know he lives a few miles away. I think he’s going to walk.”
Serena shrugged. “It’s a nice night.”
It was cold, but maybe not cold enough to be concerned.
“Still want a drink?” Serena asked.
“Sure Just a sec.”
I watched another moment as Lane’s figure was absorbed by the darkness. I reached for the mercantile’ s doorknob, but it wouldn’t turn. Sometime in the last few moments, the door had been locked. I debated knocking, but decided I’d talk to Randy later. Besides, I wasn’t quite sure why I wanted to talk to him anyway, other than to satisfy my curiosity about … everything.
Finally, I followed Serena into the bar.
The space was crowded, but Serena made her way to one of the five booths. Mostly, locals met there for conversation, and during the winter people would stop by just so everyone knew they were still alive. Apparently, the night after a stretch of stormy days was pretty busy.
I survived just fine.
It was touch and go there for a while.
I about lost my mind. I never thought the weather would get better.
I’d already heard versions of such stories. Tonight, I overheard folks talking about recent challenges—the landscape could cause problems in other seasons, too, as we’d all now seen with the mudslide. But many times, previous winters’ storms were discussed. The part about someone losing their mind was a real thing; mental health was a challenge when people got cooped up. It was another reason I liked the Benedict House and hoped not to have to leave it any time soon—unless I got to go home, of course.
Benny, Viola’s sister, ran the bar, and had poured beers into cold mugs for us when she spotted us walking through the door. She passed the drinks over the bar as I handed her some cash.
“Keep the change,” I said.
“Need to talk to you later, if possible,” Benny said.
I nodded and sent her a question with my eyes. She was too busy to notice. I carried the beers over to the booth and sat across from Serena.
“You heard what’s been going on around here?” I said.
“No. Tell me.”
I told her most everything, as best as I could remember.
“A body? A frozen woman?” Serena said. She hadn’t even blinked about the girls. “How interesting.”
I inspected her and nodded.
“And that guy we just saw was the one who elbowed you?�
�
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I lied.
“Well, of course it’s awful and tragic, but I’m more interested in what or who put her there.”
I nodded again.
“I mean, I know all about a life where being murdered is a real possibility. If she lived that sort of life, I can picture myself in similar situations, and I know her opportunities for leaving were probably small and brief. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is all about domestic violence. Too much of that everywhere, particularly here.”
“Alaska?” I took a drink of foamy, cold beer.
“It’s all part of the whole picture, per capita, you know, and our capita is smaller than most places. And since people move here to get away, hide, some are hiding their cruelty.” Serena shrugged. “Then you never know what the winter will do to a person. If it’s a particularly bad one, it can be rough.”
I’d just been thinking about all she was saying; maybe there was a tenuous connection we could sense but were missing at the moment. “But it’s sad.”
Serena shrugged again. “It’s not all of us. I moved here to get away from it.” Her eyes unfocused as she fell into thought. “It’s a place of peace for me, for many people. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
I held up my mug. “Cheers to that.”
We clinked.
“What do you know about Randy?” I said.
“He runs the mercantile. Never missed a day, from what I can tell. He ordered me a special coat I wanted last year. I like him.”
I realized I had left out the part about Annie’s drawing of his house, but I still didn’t mention it.
“He’s the one who heard the girls first,” I repeated from my first telling. “I’m certain they made the noises we both heard.”
“Right. So?”
“I don’t know.”
“You think he has something to do with the girls?”
“No, not really, but I wonder if anyone knows him well enough to have been inside his house, to see if anyone else might live there.”
I was sure Gril would have asked the girls’ father if he knew Randy, particularly after Annie drew a picture that looked like Randy’s house. But I wondered if connections might have been noticed by others.
Serena fell into thought again. “I haven’t, but I don’t know about anyone else. I’ve never known him to be associated with little girls. From your description, they don’t sound familiar to me.” Serena paused. Her eyebrows came together, and she sat up straighter. “I just remembered something. He was married when he first moved here.”
I swallowed a gulp of beer. “I hadn’t heard that.”
“His wife hated it. She tried to knit, but hated that, too. She left. I bet that’s why I remember her; she came to one knitting class but didn’t stay long.”
“Really?”
Serena frowned. “She was so upset. You know, asking people how they could possibly live here without real phones and internet, couldn’t believe animals just walked around on their own.”
“I can’t believe no one has mentioned her to me before this.”
“They might not remember her. She was only here for a short time, and she made quite the scene at the knitting class. Also, I have a good memory. Not everyone else does.”
Orin does, I thought, but didn’t say it out loud. But he had mentioned that he’d moved here shortly after Randy had.
“Do you remember what she looked like?” I asked.
“Kind of. Pretty, long brown hair. Quite a bit younger than Randy, if I remember correctly.”
Lots of women are pretty and have long brown hair. There was no need to immediately jump to the conclusion that the frozen woman might be Randy’s wife.
“Thin, heavy?”
“Normal, I guess, not noticeably thin or fat.”
If I were to describe the body I’d seen, I would have said something similar. Average weight and height.
Jesus.
No.
That couldn’t be it.
I shook it off. “Any idea where she went?”
“No, none at all. Beth, I just now realized she hasn’t been around, but I’m not very social. I remember being glad when she didn’t show up to another knitting class, but then didn’t give her any thought until right now.”
I needed to research Randy’s wife and where she’d gone.
I could try my satellite hot spot or just talk to Orin, use the library’s internet. I was anxious to do something productive. This new mystery needed attention. But it was late; too late to bother Orin and too dark to venture back to the Petition. A chill ran up my spine as I remembered seeing Lane disappear into the woods.
I’d wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I’d try to enjoy the evening and find out what Benny needed to talk to me about.
Serena and I only had one beer each but managed to make it last through a detailed conversation about fishing. Serena said I was a fool for not heading out on a fishing boat yet. I didn’t explain to her that I was afraid of open water and that Ruke, a local Tlingit, had told me his intuition was that I should stay out of the bay. I was living near Glacier Bay National Park, and I had yet to see a glacier. I’d even missed the big one in Juneau on my way here.
Serena went home, and the bar cleared enough after she left that I sidled up to a stool and waited for Benny to have a moment to talk. I didn’t have to wait long.
“How’s my sister?” she asked.
“Fine, I think,” I said. “Why?”
“She got a new client, an addict, I hear.”
“Yes, she’s not in good shape.” I had all but forgotten about Ellen.
“Damn. That’s so unfair.”
“I don’t understand.”
“After all the mess a few months ago, they told Vi she wasn’t going to get to do her job anymore,” Benny said.
“I might have heard something about that, but you make it sound much more serious.”
“This one is her test. She’s got to prove herself,” Benny said.
“What? She has to get an addict clean? That’s her test? That seems both unfair and immoral.”
“She told them to send her a challenge. She’d prove she was up for it and earn her way back into the job.”
“She’s been busy with other things, too,” I said. “I don’t know how much attention she’s been able to give Ellen.”
“I know. She helped take care of those girls.”
“You both did, I hear. What can I do to help Viola?” I asked.
“Nothing. She won’t let anyone help. I offered to close the bar and sit with the woman so Viola could have a break. She wouldn’t hear of it, and now the girls are gone, so that’s … at least helpful. I just wondered if you knew if she was doing okay.”
“Honestly, I don’t know. She’s pretty good at multitasking, though.”
I didn’t mention Viola’s time venting at the Petition because though she’d arrived in a concerned state, by the time she left, she was back to her level self. She hadn’t even downed the second shot she’d poured. I’d ended up throwing it out, which I suspect would have bothered Bobby Reardon.
“Yeah.” Benny grabbed a towel and wiped the bar in front of me. “Just keep an eye on her. Let me know if I need to intervene.”
“Can I ask you what your impression was of the girls?”
“No impression. I just gathered clothes and toys and dropped them off. I didn’t even meet them—Viola and Maper had it handled. They didn’t want another person to cause confusion. Glad their dad found them.”
“Me too.” I paused, not adding that I was only glad if he was a good man, a good dad. “Hey, what do you know about Randy?”
“Mercantile Randy?”
“Yes.”
“He’s a great guy. Does his job well.”
“Do you remember his wife?”
“He’s not … oh, wait, he was married when he first moved here. I had forgotten about her. I think she was pretty unhappy, left shortly after the
y moved here. Happens every now and then.”
“I have many questions about that, Benny. Why would someone move here without knowing for sure they want to live here?”
“Oh. Happens all the time. They have an idea of what they want, but when they get here, it’s not exactly what they expected, or it’s too much of what they expected. How did you decide to move here?”
I smiled. “A fifteen-minute internet search.”
“And you’re still here? If that’s how you found Benedict, I would have only given you about a thirty percent chance of staying. If you’re not hiding.”
“No, not hiding,” I lied.
I really did like it here. I missed home, but for the first time, I wondered if maybe this place would eventually rub off on me like it had on Serena.
“Well, we’re glad you’re here. Want another beer?”
“No, I’m good. Time to call it a night. I’ll check on Viola.”
“Appreciate it.”
As I left, Benny moved to the other end of the bar to wait on another customer, someone I didn’t know. I was surprised that even in a community of about five hundred people, I still didn’t know or recognize every single person.
I’d now met and seen Lane twice, though I’d never noticed him before. Randy must have. Gril must have asked Randy about the trapper shopping at the mercantile. Gril had mentioned that he maybe thought he knew who Lane was. I wondered if he just thought he’d seen him around or if it was something else.
I stepped outside into the cold, quiet night. It wasn’t raining. In fact, it wasn’t even cloudy. A blanket of stars lit the sky. There wasn’t enough light in Benedict to dull the stars, so when it wasn’t cloudy, the sight above was stunning. I considered taking a short walk. I looked out toward the woods again. But I wasn’t made of the same stuff as Lane. It was cold, and I still didn’t feel prepared to handle all the Alaskan night might offer. I noticed the lights were now off in the mercantile before I hurried over to the Benedict’s front door.
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