by Ilona Fridl
Sarah threw her fork down. “Stop it, Mother! That school prepared me for the changes, and I’m happy you did.” She rose from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some air.”
Sarah stomped outside and leaned against the cold bricks of the building. Unfortunately, the small minds of either side make it difficult to exist together. I remember in history I read of cultures coming together and becoming stronger. It takes time to sort things out, though. What to keep and what to throw away. A murmur of voices from around the corner caught her attention. The words “fish traps” and “canneries” hit her ear. She moved to the edge.
“Those damn canneries are setting the traps on the mouths of the rivers, and our village is losing most of the fish,” came a gruff voice.
“Something should be done about it,” sounded a baritone.
Sarah jammed her fists in her coat pockets and strode purposefully around the corner. She nodded to the men. “I thought I heard someone out here.”
Jack, with the rough voice, tipped his hat. “Evening, Miss Lakat.” A light on his face dawned. “Say, you’re a deputy. Have you heard anything about Polar Star?”
“You know I can’t discuss it.”
Bobby, the younger man, angrily turned on her. “Word is, the sheriff is going to convict a native.”
Sarah fixed her glare. “He’s looking at all angles right now.”
“And you insist on working for the enemy.”
“You know, it’s people like you who make it hard to get along with anyone.”
Bobby pushed by Sarah, and she leaned against the wall. Jack took his hat off as he walked by. “Sorry, Miss Lakat. Bobby is mad about losing the salmon upstream.”
When Sarah saw she was alone, she wrote “Bobby Cusnoo” in her notebook and tucked it back in her pocket. We should look into some of the upstream villages. Amos was supposed to be back Monday. She would make that suggestion.
A hand snagged her arm from behind and a glove smacked down on her mouth. Sarah started kicking with her feet and elbowing her assailant, until cold steel landed none too gently on the back of her neck. “Don’t move, just listen!” a raspy voice hit her ear. “Have the sheriff call the dogs off. We’re doing this for our people’s good.” She found herself shoved behind several barrels. Before she could jump up, the man ran around the building.
“So much for some air,” Sarah murmured to herself as she straightened her hat and inspected a tear in the hem of her skirt. As she went through the door, she brushed as much of the dirt off her clothes as possible and ducked into the women’s lavatory. When she was presentable again, she rejoined her family.
Sarah sighed as she pulled out her chair. “I’m sorry, Mother, I know how important tradition is to you.”
Her mother opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then smiled. “I’m sorry, too. I hate the changes, but because of your schooling, at least you can make your way through this new world.”
Sarah kissed her cheek. “You have to remember you were raised different than your parents were, too. Before the Russians and Americans, our people were living quite primitively.”
The social went on for several hours of dining and dancing. Sarah kept watching for anyone suspicious, but all seemed in order. She watched the people Bobby Cusnoo talked to but didn’t see anyone she thought was her assailant.
She and Kata left together and, when they were out of earshot, Kata pointed at Sarah’s hem. “What happened outside?”
Sarah gathered herself in innocence. “Why do you ask?”
“Your hem wasn’t torn when we left your house.”
“Takes a seamstress to notice that. I ran into a little trouble outside.”
“Job?”
“Seems like some people don’t take too kindly to investigations. A man grabbed me from behind and told me in no uncertain terms to call it off.”
Kata stopped and faced Sarah. “Please be careful. Tensions are high in this town right now. If you’re seen to be a traitor―”
Sarah embraced her cousin. “Don’t worry. I’m just out to find who’s been killing these people. The person behind this isn’t doing anybody any good. Besides, the sheriff is due back on Monday.”
They started on their way again. Sarah digested the tidbits from the evening. Our investigation is making someone nervous. In a way, that was very satisfying, but she wished it could be an American she was after. She hated that she wasn’t impartial. The trouble between the whites and Tlingits made Sarah feel like she was caught in the middle of a culture war.
Chapter 6
Amos tugged at his mustache as he listened to Sheriff Mike Mahoney of Cordova. “Did someone actually hear these threats made?”
The red-haired Irishman nodded. “One of the members of the ANB here was nervous about the murder at our cannery. He thought it was just talk, but when the executive was found in the cutting machine at the factory, he told me what he’d heard.”
“Did he know these people?”
“Nope. He said they weren’t regulars at the Cordova camp.”
Amos extracted an envelope from his jacket pocket. “Did you happen to find one of these?” He showed him the note that was found on the body.
Mahoney glanced at it, then reached for the folder on his desk. He flipped an envelope with a number one emblazoned on the front. “If you look at the note, it’s the same.”
After a perusal, Amos asked, “Was there anything in the newspaper Personals that could have related to the murder? A warning, perhaps?” A clipping appeared under his nose. “Well, it looks like we’re dealing with the same person.”
“Or group. Have you heard from any other community about a warning yet?”
“Not yet. We’ve alerted the coastal canneries to check the Personals for anything suspicious.” Amos put his hat on. “I’m catching the airplane to Soldotna to see what I can find out there.”
Mahoney extended his hand. “Keep in touch, Darcy. The more lawmen who know about this, the better the chances of catching the murderers.”
Cordova’s airfield was on a flat plain that stretched close to the Gulf of Alaska. If anything, it was nippier up here than by the sheltered channel seas of Juneau. Early in May, there were still little patches of stubborn snow in the shadows, patches that would be gone in a week or so. Amos clutched his sheepskin-lined jacket closer around him against the chilly wind as he waited for the airplane.
A small canvas-covered biplane bounced onto the field and Amos waved at the pilot. The machine gave a few sputters as it taxied up to the station, and when it stopped the pilot swung down from the wing. “Are you Sheriff Darcy? The one who wants to go to Soldotna?”
Amos nodded.
“We’ll leave in a few minutes. I have to refuel. You can get into the passenger seat.” He indicated the front of the airplane.
Amos climbed in as the station manager and pilot wheeled the fuel tank out and hooked up the hose. He was looking forward to getting back to Juneau and comparing notes with Sarah. Hell, you want to see Sarah again. You hate being away from her. That’s the reason you asked her to be a deputy, but you’re too scared to give in to your feelings for her. He cursed himself. He needed to be a confirmed bachelor, because it hurt too much when someone he loved died. A family could be a serious complication to a lawman. He needed to be single-minded.
The pilot climbed in, the station manager gave the propeller a quick turn, and the engine sputtered to life. They picked up speed along the field until the plane soared into the blue. The hour and a half to Soldotna was taken up with the different puzzle pieces Amos had discovered on this trip. Maybe it was a good idea to have Sarah keep her ears open at the Juneau camp, just in case.
The meeting with the sheriff in Soldotna produced the same results, with an envelope emblazoned with a number two in the same handwriting. Amos gave him the lowdown on what had happened in Juneau. “How was the man killed here?”
The sheriff checked his coroner’s notes. “Looks li
ke his morning cup of coffee was tainted with rat poison. These people seem to have various ways of getting their point across.”
Amos nodded. “Keep me informed on how the investigation is going here, and I’ll do the same.”
After leaving the sheriff’s office, Amos walked to the little airfield. “When is the next flight to Juneau?”
The field manager checked his list. “There’s a plane going out at ten in the morning.”
“Good. I’ll be here. Is there a place nearby where I can stay?”
The man made a motion toward an old wooden structure south of the field. “That’s where a lot of the pilots spend the night.”
Amos’s lip curled as he came up on the rickety porch that protested when he trod on the boards. His room reeked of old sweat and cigars. He couldn’t wait to get out of there in the morning.
After a tough two-day flight, the familiar sight of Mt. Juneau came comfortably into view. The snow on the top glowed pink with the late afternoon sun. Home. Amos couldn’t wait to have a decent dinner at Millie’s and crawl into his own bed.
God, it’s good to be back in Juneau! I tend to forget how primitive other parts of the territory can be. Millie’s was a welcome warm glow to the soul as he strolled in from the gray blanket of sea fog slowly clutching the city in its damp grip. Millie looked up and grinned. “Welcome home, Sheriff!”
“What’s good tonight?”
She pulled her pencil from behind her ear. “The chicken is very good. Can I get you some with mashed potatoes and peas?”
“Plenty of gravy on those potatoes, Millie.”
“Yes, I know.” She hurried to the kitchen.
When she served his dinner, he stopped her. “Anything going on in town?”
“Nothing big.” She pursed her lips. “But I did hear there was a bit of a disagreement at the ANB social Saturday. It concerned Sarah.”
Amos was instantly alert. “What happened?”
“Well, I happened to hear about Jack Harper talking to Sarah. Seems he and Bobby Cusnoo were discussing the problems with the fish traps while they were taking a breath outside, and Sarah showed up. Bobby asked her to tell how the investigation was going. She refused, and he shoved past her. Jack apologized for Bobby’s rudeness.”
Anger started to bubble, and Amos ground his teeth. “Thanks for letting me know, Millie.”
She patted his shoulder. “Relax, Sarah is fine. Enjoy your meal.” She started on her rounds of the tables.
For some reason, Amos’ mind was finding ways of dismembering Bobby Cusnoo. Then his brain hit a slot. Why was Bobby so interested in the investigation? Is he involved somehow? Amos was sure Sarah must have thought of that, too.
Amos finished his meal and had started toward his apartment over the drugstore when he had a fleeting thought of visiting Sarah. No. That can wait until tomorrow. When he came to the stairwell door between the two retail stores on the street level, Amos took the steps two at a time to his apartment, where he pulled out the folder of the information on the murder, spread it out on his bed, and pored over it until exhaustion dealt him senseless.
Amos greeted Sam the next morning as he arrived early. “Have Lakat come in as soon as she gets here. Any news about Personals from anywhere else?”
“No, sir. Did your trip go well?”
Amos nodded. “At least we know it’s the same person writing the notes.” He went into his office and stirred the embers in the potbellied stove, adding some kindling. When the branches caught, he put some stove wood in and gingerly closed the iron door, adjusting the damper. After he fetched water from the back, he started the coffee.
As the smell of the fresh brew wafted out, there was a knock and a call at his office door. “It’s Sarah!”
“Come in, Lakat!” His breath caught for a moment. Amos was happier to see her than he let on. He wanted to embrace her, but he caught himself up short. She could have gotten herself killed. “Sit, and I’ll show you what I found as soon as you explain what in the Sam Hill you were doing at the social. I told you just to keep your ears open.”
Sarah sighed, pouring some coffee into her mug. She sat across from Amos. “I knew both Jack and Bobby. I thought they would talk freely with me, so instead of someone catching me eavesdropping, I thought I’d do this aboveboard.” She stopped and glanced at him accusingly. “You must have had dinner at Millie’s last night. Every story in town seems to end up there.”
“Anything else happen?”
Sarah pursed her lips. “Yes. After Jack and Bobby went inside, I was grabbed from behind by a man whose voice I didn’t recognize.” She went on to tell what happened.
Amos rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Call off the dogs, eh? Are you sure Bobby didn’t go around the building?”
“This man was taller than Bobby. I looked to see if there was anyone inside like that, but I didn’t see any stranger. From what I heard of the conversation, I think we should look at some of the villages upstream, too. What did you find out?”
Amos told her and showed her what he’d come up with on the trip.
“So we do know that it’s one man.”
“Well, the one that’s writing the notes is. I’m sure with an operation this complex there’s more involved.”
“Maybe he has allies in the plant.”
Amos nodded. “I have a feeling someone was watching Thornton’s habits from the inside. Does Bobby work at Polar Star?”
Sarah hesitated. “I can find out. Do you think he had something to do with it?”
“He seemed upset you didn’t give him information. There has to be a reason why.”
“I know his sister. She works at Millie’s. I’ll go now.” Sarah set down her mug and prepared to sweep out.
“Lakat?”
“Yes, Amos?”
“Be careful.” She looked at him strangely, then left.
Amos cursed himself. She’s an experienced deputy. Of course she’ll be careful. It was getting harder to keep his feelings for her under the surface.
Chapter 7
Sarah held her jacket closed against the gray fog that saturated her hair. It was good to have Amos back. I seem to feel more confident when he’s around. She was aware of her chest tightening when she thought of him. No. I can’t get that deeply involved. He’s my boss.
Sally Cusnoo was working the counter, so Sarah slid onto the cushioned yellow oilcloth stool and greeted her. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
Sally smiled. “Hello, Sarah! I have to refill the coffeepot. I’ll be right with you.”
Sarah had gone to school with Sally and hoped that friendship was still there. Sally brought a cup of coffee and set it in front of Sarah. “You need anything to eat?”
“No, thank you. I need to ask you something.”
“Sure. What?”
Sarah blew on the coffee and took a sip. “Where is your brother Bobby working now?”
“He works at Polar Star. Why?”
Sarah thought fast. “I was wondering if he spoke to you about the murder. We’re trying to get as much information as we can.”
She shook her head. “He just told me what was in the paper. I guess he didn’t see anything. Why don’t you ask him?”
“He didn’t seem that sociable to me when I saw him last.”
Sally chewed on her lip. “I know he’s upset that the law is looking to blame a native.”
Sarah sighed and rose. She drew a nickel out of her pocket and placed it by the coffee. “We have to check everyone. Thank you, Sally.”
Back at the office, Sarah told Amos what she’d found out.
“Well, you did find out he works there. We can keep that in mind.” Amos sat back in his chair. “Now, we wait for any of the traps we’ve set up to spring.”
Later that day, a courier came in with a telegram. Sarah watched from her desk as he disappeared into Amos’ office. Sam glanced at her. “Wonder if one of the departments found something?”
Sarah shrugged.
“I’ll guess we’ll know in a few minutes.”
When the courier reappeared, Amos was right behind him. “Lakat, come in here.”
Sarah hurried in and sat across from Amos. “What did you get?”
He showed her the telegram. “It’s from Mike Mahoney of Cordova. He got word from a relative in Sitka that a suspicious Personal was posted in their newspaper similar to the ones we have. He said since we’re closer, we should alert the law there and help investigate it. He’ll come down to help, if anything happens.”
“When do you want to leave?”
“We can take a rented flight from the airfield. Go home and pack clothes for a few days’ stay, and I’ll arrange for a plane and pilot. I’ll pick you up at your house in an hour.”
“I’ll be waiting!” she shot back, closing the door behind her. Sarah rushed to her small house, only three blocks from the station, and grabbed a bag. Forty-five minutes later, packed and with the house closed down, she waited for the patrol car as she sat in a rocker on her porch, her bag at her feet.
The auto pulled to the side of the street in front of the house, and Amos swung her bag into the back with his as Sarah climbed into the passenger seat. “Any trouble getting a plane?” she ventured.
“Not when you tell them it’s business. We’re off when we get there.” He concentrated on the winding road to the airfield. When they arrived, there was a little transport plane warming up and a young pilot waving to them.
Amos parked the patrol car near the airfield’s office and carried his bag and Sarah’s to the young man. “Lakat, this is our pilot, Bill Wright. Bill, this is my deputy, Sarah Lakat.”
Sarah held out her hand to the blonde-haired, blue-eyed pilot. “Nice to meet you.”
Bill acknowledged her and took their bags to store in a compartment of the plane. He waved them to the back. “There’s seats back there for passengers. You can strap yourselves in, and we’ll be off in five minutes.”
The seats proved to be little more than cushioned metal frames bolted to the floor. Sarah and Amos found the ends of the safety belts that would hold them in the contraption. Finally, the craft started bumping along the grassy field. Sarah swallowed hard and closed her eyes. This was the first time she had flown, but she knew this was the fastest way to get to Sitka, so she didn’t tell Amos.