Alaska Twilight

by Colleen Coble

  “Which dog is yours?”

  “The red one next to the dapple. Which one is yours?”

  “He’s the dapple.”

  “I haven’t seen many of them. He’s cute.” The woman stopped talking as the moderator waved a flag in his hand.

  “When I drop the flag, you can call your dogs,” he said. He waved the Alaska flag imperiously. “Get ready, set, GO!” He dropped the flag in a grand gesture.

  “Oscar! Come here, boy!” Haley leaned on her crutches, clapped her hands, and continued to shout. Oscar hesitated a moment, then flung himself into the sport. Floppy ears flying behind them like silken banners, the tide of wiener dogs moved down the track. Their short legs were almost a blur. Each doggy face wore an expression of joy in the mad run.

  With difficulty on only one leg, she knelt and patted on the ground, calling encouragement to Oscar. He was lagging behind, but when he saw her kneel, he put on an additional burst of speed. She heard Tank’s hoarse shout from the sidelines and Augusta’s high-pitched squeak of approval. Oscar had only two dogs ahead of him now. He seemed to smile even wider as his broad little chest put everything he had into the run for glory.

  “Come on, Oscar, you can do it. Come here, boy!” Oscar pulled ahead of the dog in front of him, which inexplicably decided to put on the brakes. The other dog’s short legs skidded to a stop, and then she loped off to the right, colliding with another dog. The two tangled and reminded Haley of the long red balloons that clowns twisted into the shape of animals, only in this case, the shape wasn’t recognizable.

  Now there was only one dog ahead of Oscar. Haley’s pet gave a giant leap—or as giant as his short legs would allow—and drew neck-and-neck with the lead dog. He growled as if to say Back off, then leaped into Haley’s arms. He was wet and panting as he lolled his tongue over her face. The crowd roared its approval at Oscar’s win.

  “Good boy!” She patted him and praised him. “You won!”

  “Hey, lady, you want to sell him?” The little boy scratched his head. “I’ll give you ten dollars for him.”

  “Sorry, he’s not for sale.”

  The kid frowned, then shrugged and ran back to his parents. Oscar wiggled to be put down, so Haley put him on the grass and followed him to the rest of the group. The man with the bullhorn announced Oscar’s win. Oscar raced off to jump into Brooke’s lap. She giggled when he licked her chin. Haley went up to accept the trophy and award money, then rejoined the group.

  Haley was trying to look everywhere except at Tank’s face. She didn’t like this attention that warmed her blood.

  Tank put his hand on her arm. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”

  “Is something wrong?” She finally tipped a glance up into his face.

  “The autopsy came back on Joe Wooten. He was shot. The bear got to his body after death.”

  “So at least we know Miki didn’t kill him.”

  “Yeah. But I wanted to ask if you knew any details about the fire that killed your parents.”

  “Not really.” She hesitated. “Fannie Coghill thought it might not have been an accident. She said my mother told her she suspected Ned Bundle of selling artifacts. She suggested we talk to Joy about it. I meant to do that, but it seemed a pretty far-fetched notion. And I’m not sure Joy would know anything about it anyway. Why are you asking about the fire?”

  His gaze bored into hers. “There have been so many so-called accidents lately, and now a real murder. I just wondered if we were maybe missing something where Leigh and your folks are concerned. I think I’ll talk to Joy about it. I’d like us to test for accelerants in the cabin’s ashes.”

  “Hasn’t it been too long?”

  He shook his head. “I asked a buddy in the fire department. Most lab tests are sensitive enough to detect the accelerant even after considerable weathering. He can put me in touch with a lab that does it.”

  Something inside her cracked at the thought. She’d never imagined she had any emotion left for her parents besides bitterness. “You think someone set their cabin on fire? Who would do that?”

  “Maybe no one. But I think we need to find out.”

  She nodded, but she didn’t know what to make of the strange sensation she felt inside, something like new life stirring after a long winter hiatus. She wanted to dig a hole and bury those feelings, but she was curious to see what they were. “Augusta wants to meet Joy.”

  “See if she’ll come now. We can stop by the Worley house, then meet up with Libby and Brooke for supper.”

  “I doubt we’ll find out anything. I think Joy was just upset when our parents died and had to blame someone.”

  “You might be right. People like to have someone to blame.”

  She realized he was talking about her. “That’s hardly the same thing.”

  “Isn’t it? I’ve been thinking about your experience.

  You didn’t make that mine collapse, Haley. It was an accident. You didn’t pick up a gun and shoot her.”

  She wished she could believe it was just an unlucky accident, but she knew how wicked her own heart was. “Let’s not talk about it.”

  “You’re going to have to let it go sooner or later.”

  “Then later.” She giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth.

  “Nervous, huh? About talking to Joy or dealing with your past?”

  “Maybe both. Wait here, and I’ll get Augusta. I’ll tell Libby what we’re doing.”

  Tank, Haley, and Augusta walked the three blocks to the Worley house. Tank tried to look at the town through Haley’s eyes. The residents of Stalwart lived up to its name. Most of the houses were no more than eight hundred square feet, if that. There was no beauty, no aesthetic appeal in any of the homes. Plain Jane, boxy wooden structures. A splash of green occasionally broke the brown sameness. It was a world Tank knew and loved, but watching the bleak expression on Haley’s face, he realized it held no appeal for her.

  Toys lay in the Worleys’ yard. This time when they knocked on the door, a male voice answered. “Joy, get the door!”

  Augusta’s nostrils flared at the peremptory tone in the man’s voice. “He’s talking to her like she’s some kind of servant,” she hissed.

  Haley nodded. “The woman treated her like that too. That’s why I said we need to do something.”

  Tank peered through the screen door and saw Joy coming toward them. She had a dark mark on her arm. A bruise? He clenched his fists.

  Joy stopped before she got to the door. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh. I didn’t expect . . .” Her gaze went to Augusta. “Are you . . . ?” She pushed open the wooden screen door and stepped outside.

  Augusta patted her hand. “Hello, Joy. I’m your grandmother. Call me Augusta like Haley does.”

  The two inspected one another. Joy wasn’t usually so tongue-tied, and Tank knew two encounters in one day had thrown her. “There are some questions Haley forgot to ask you. Do you have a few minutes?”

  Fear flashed over Joy’s face. “I don’t think Craig will let me go with you. He was mad when he got home and found out Alice allowed me to leave with you.”

  Her hand touched the mark on her arm. It was a bruise, Tank saw, his anger ramping up immediately. “Let me handle it,” he told her. He stepped past her to the door and pounded on it with all his might. The door shook, and the windowpanes rattled from the force of his fist.

  The gruff voice down the hall swore viciously. Feet pounded on the wooden floor inside, and a big man punched open the screen door and stepped outside. His head thrust forward aggressively, and his hazel eyes narrowed—he looked ready to take on all comers. “What do you want?” Tank’s size didn’t seem to deter his belligerent stance.

  “These ladies are Joy’s family. We’re taking her out for dinner.”

  “No, you aren’t. She has chores to do. She spent all afternoon gallivanting around town.”

  “You put that bruise on her arm?” Tank jabbed his thumb in Joy’s direction. The w
omen gasped, and he saw them dart quick looks at Joy’s arm.

  “She fell,” Craig said quickly. His eyes darted from Tank’s face to Joy, then back again.

  “I don’t believe it. You touch her again, and you’ll answer to me. You got that?” Tank was nearly yelling.

  He wheeled and took Joy’s arm gently. “I’ll have her back by nine.” Haley and Augusta scurried ahead of him.

  Joy came without resistance. “He’ll make me pay for that,” she said. “I know you were trying to help, but next time . . .” She bit her lip.

  “There won’t be a next time. You’re not going back there,” Haley said. Her color was high, and she swung along the rough streets on her crutches with a scowl that said she’d like to stomp Craig under her boots.

  “Hold up.” Tank stopped. “If that’s your intention, we need to do this legally.” He turned to Joy. “Did Craig put that bruise on your arm?”

  She nodded. “Next time he’ll make sure he puts them where people can’t see.”

  “Will you tell Trooper Gillespie that?”

  Joy hesitated and looked at the other women. “What am I going to do? Where will I live?”

  “With me,” Augusta said staunchly.

  Joy’s eyes lit up. “You’re moving here?”

  “I live in Phoenix. You’ll love it there.”

  Joy’s smile faded. “I love it here. It’s my home.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” Tank said. “For now, let’s get this documented.” He took her to see Chet, who listened to the stories of abuse. Haley snapped pictures of Joy’s bruises, including some on her legs that her jeans had hidden. Her back had scars from beatings with a belt.

  “What about the other children?” Haley asked.

  “He never touches them. Only me. I think he resents the money he has to spend on me. They expected a boatload of money from my dad, and it’s all been tied up in the estate. Once it comes through, I thought it would get better.”

  “I’ll send a trooper to get your things,” Chet said, his mouth in a grim line. “And I’m also going to ask the judge to do a home study to make sure the other children are not in danger.”

  “I kind of hate to leave them when they need me to watch the kids,” Joy said. “The little ones are sweet.”

  Tank told Chet where to find them, and the group walked back toward the café. Joy was subdued, and he knew she wondered what would happen to her. She would be a polar bear in the desert if they tried to transplant her. Maybe she could live with him and Libby. Libby would like the company, and Brooke adored Joy.

  Haley paused by the park. “Let’s talk before we meet up with Libby and Brooke. I don’t think Brooke should hear the questions I have.” The women sat on the bench together while Tank leaned his back against a fence post.

  “We talked with Fannie,” Haley said. “She said you don’t think the fire was an accident.”

  Joy’s eyes widened; then she ducked her head and shook it. “I think they were killed, but no one believes me.”

  “Who did you tell?” Tank asked.

  “Fannie believes you,” Augusta said.

  “No one who can do anything about it,” Joy amended.

  “I told Chet, but he said there was no evidence of anything weird.” She splayed her fingers on her jeans.

  “What makes you think it wasn’t an accident?” Tank was beginning to wonder if Joy was just stubbornly refusing to face facts.

  “See, you don’t believe me either.”

  “Give me some facts, and maybe I will.”

  “I don’t have any facts!” Joy rubbed her forehead. “I walked in on Ned Bundle one day at the dig. He shoved a crate out of the way when he saw me. Later, I went back and looked at it. It was full of artifacts. I told Maggie, and she started wondering if he was stealing them and selling them. She’d noticed several things missing. She told him she was going to tell Dad about it.” She hesitated. “I think she didn’t want to tell Dad about Ned. Dad liked Ned. He was always saying he’d never had a friend like him before. I think Mom didn’t want to wreck that if she didn’t have to.”

  Tank tried to think it through. “When was this?”

  Joy bit her lip. “Two days before the fire.” Her chin jutted out. “I think he didn’t want to be found out, so he killed them.”

  “I could talk to him,” Tank said. “If I can get some kind of proof, maybe Chet could have the bodies exhumed and autopsied. Or he might not have killed them. He may have just set fire to the cabin and the smoke got them.”

  “Fannie said there wasn’t much to autopsy.” Augusta’s voice was low.

  “There wasn’t, but if they’re looking at murder, they might find something.”

  Joy examined her short, stubby nails, decorated with chipped pink nail polish. “There’s something else. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

  Her voice quavered, and Tank focused on her tense and fearful face. “What is it?”

  “Ned saw me looking at the crate.” Joy’s gaze came up to meet Tank’s. “He said for me to keep my nose out of his business or I might end up in the lake.”

  Tank’s arms came up in a defensive posture across his chest. “Like Leigh,” he said. “Could he have had something to do with Leigh’s death?”

  Joy wet her lips. “I caught him watching her through binoculars once. He said she was hot.”

  Tank exhaled sharply. “I’ll talk to him.” He didn’t know what to make of Joy’s story. Could she have an overactive imagination? She seemed so mature and levelheaded for her age. He thought of the pills. Could someone have forced Leigh to take them? His mind didn’t want to go there.

  Fourteen

  Supper was a grim affair. Brooke chattered all through her meal of caribou burger and macaroni and cheese. More macaroni ended up on the chipped tiled floor than in her mouth. Libby kept shooting curious glances into their faces but didn’t ask questions until they rose to go back to the hotel.

  She caught Haley’s arm as Tank went to pay at an ancient relic of a cash register that looked like it came into Alaska during the gold rush. Augusta and Joy took Brooke to a bubble-gum machine. “What’s going on? It’s like someone has died.”

  Libby didn’t know how close she’d come. Haley told her what Joy had said and decided to focus on the story as it pertained to Tank first. “Did you ever notice Ned hanging around the lake, or the Walsh place?”

  Libby shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t stay out there much while Leigh was alive. She and I didn’t get along very well.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think she was jealous. She wanted all of Tank’s attention when he was home. He and I have always been close. It was a hard time for me, making myself back away to give him a chance to bond with his new wife. That’s one of the reasons I took the cello seat in Philly, much as it killed me to leave here. When Brooke came along, I forced myself to listen to Leigh’s snipes and to deal with her irritation every few months. I wasn’t going to allow my niece to grow up without knowing me.”

  “So you never saw her with Ned? Or saw Ned do anything inappropriate?”

  Libby shook her head. “I don’t know the man well. I went over to watch the dig a few times, but it was kind of boring. Just digging in the dirt and sifting it for artifacts. I’d go bonkers doing that all day when I’d rather be playing my cello.”

  “What about at the dig? Did you notice him watching my mother or anything like that?”

  “Like I said, I only went a few times. He worked in one part, and your parents in another.”

  Haley glanced over at Joy, who was getting gum out of the machine for Brooke. “Do you think Joy would lie or stretch the truth?”

  “No way! Joy has a passion for the truth. Even when she got in trouble for being late, she never tried to wiggle out of it with a lie.”

  “I’ll go see Ned at the dig tomorrow.”

  “Not you! Tank or Chet. If this guy is dangerous, you need to stay aw
ay. You’re a beautiful girl, and you don’t want to get him fixated on you.”

  Haley grinned. “I’d say you need to get your eyes checked.” She pulled her camera to her face. “Let me take your picture, and I’ll show you beautiful.”

  Libby laughed and stood still while Haley snapped some pictures. “You never did say where he lives,” Haley said, putting the lens cap back on her camera.

  “Oh no, you don’t. I’m not that easy to trick. Tank knows where to look. You stay out of it.”

  If only it were that easy. Haley had thought she’d destroyed all love for her parents, but like a seed exposed to sunshine, it had come bursting out when she discovered some maniac might have deliberately killed them. The emotion she hadn’t been able to name earlier was grief. She was grieving for her parents for the first time.

  The next morning, Haley went to the front desk to check for mail. When the pimply-faced young man brought out the long box, she nearly kissed him but resisted the impulse. She thanked him and took the box back to her room. She unwrapped it and lifted out her old prosthesis. It might not be the most advanced version, but she’d never seen a prettier limb.

  Joy was watching, her bright blue eyes alive with curiosity. “Is that thing uncomfortable?”

  “No, it’s great. I’ll be able to get along much better. The one that was stolen distributed my weight better, but this baby got me through for a lot of years.” Haley patted the artificial limb, then strapped it on and pulled her jeans down over it. She put her sneaker on the fake foot.

  “You’d never know if you didn’t know,” Joy said.

  Haley stood and walked around. “Model-perfect now.” She seized Joy and waltzed her around the room. “I feel like it’s Christmas or something. I’d forgotten how hard it is to get around with crutches.” She released her giggling sister, then called Savannah and thanked her for sending the leg. When she got off the phone, she saw Joy studying her.

  “It must have been hard losing your leg.”

  “It was.” Haley remembered the terror of seeing that flat sheet where her leg should be. “That reminds me, another man in town lost a leg to a bear. I should go talk to him. Jed Hoose, I think Tank said his name was.”