Alaskan Legal: A Legal Thriller

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Alaskan Legal: A Legal Thriller Page 27

by Dave Daren

“And I think that confusion ties in with the second thing,” she continued. “It’s clear as rain that she doesn’t want to be with Austin anymore, and maybe she’s trying to figure out what she wants in life after she leaves him. If she leaves him. This murder investigation will either be the final straw, or it’ll bring them closer together. Since she’s here on a boat getting ready to leave the city for a week or two rather than by Austin’s side, I think I know where their marriage is heading.”

  I returned my journal to my pocket as I thought about Tash’s words. Everything she had said were observations I had made as well, and because of that, I was starting to believe her perception of others held more truth than I gave it credit for.

  My mind returned to Yura, and I compared Tash’s view with what I had seen. Tash believed a breakup wasn’t enough to push Yura to murder, but cheating would. Yet, there had been no evidence of Vann being involved with another woman or even any suggestion of infidelity, meaning he had done a fantastic job of hiding his unfaithfulness if there even was any to hide.

  I thought back to the memory of finding Yura alone at Vann’s house. I had suspected she might have destroyed any evidence linking her back to the Vintage Vann, but maybe she had destroyed evidence of Vann’s unfaithfulness instead. But if that were true, then why tell me she was in a relationship with Vann in the first place? She could have passed his other lover off as his only romantic relationship and been in the clear. Unless she thought admitting to being his lover would make her the least suspicious. Or maybe, as Tash claimed, Yura couldn’t accept the idea of having to share Vann.

  Tash pulled me out of my thoughts by grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away from my face. She placed her other hand on my chest, and waited until she was sure she had my full attention.

  “Don’t get lost in your thoughts,” she ordered. “The sooner you finish this case…”

  “Believe it or not, getting lost in my thoughts is exactly how this case will be solved,” I said as I pulled my wrist from her grip and took a step back.

  Desire was a dangerous drug, and I could feel its pull every time I was close to the goddess of the Arctic Wizard.

  “Is Mr. Marniq on board?” I asked as I craned my neck to look around the wheelhouse.

  “Mr. Marniq,” the fisherwoman mimicked. “He’s currently doing Diana’s job of grocery shopping. Normally, he’d be the one filling the storage area with ice, but since Diana insists on making this trip happen, I thought it’d be best to slowly get her accustomed with the physical labors of this job.”

  “You sure you weren’t trying to scare her off?” I suggested.

  She sighed and shook her head.

  “Not that that will change anything,” she muttered. “This trip is pointless.”

  “Then why do it?” I asked.

  She shrugged, and her gaze drifted toward the deep waters of the bay.

  “Why not?” she responded. “We’re not going to catch anything, and we’re probably not going to be out on the water for more than a day, but it’s still better than sitting around here. It’ll be nice to get away from the city, from the murder case, and just out on the water. I told Luke to bring fishing rods. Might be the only thing we land.”

  She walked past me and began to walk away until she turned around to gesture for me to follow.

  “Come on,” she beckoned. “We should make sure Diana hasn’t accidentally killed herself operating the ice maker.”

  I followed her, and we rounded the corner to be met with the sight of Marniq climbing aboard the boat with several plastic bags. By his side was Diana, and she took some bags from him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” the confident fisherwoman asked as she walked up to Diana.

  She took the plastic bags away and set them down on the deck.

  “You’re supposed to be making ice right now,” she continued as she grabbed Diana’s shoulder and pushed her toward the bow.

  “I know, but it looked like he needed help,” the captain’s wife explained.

  “He’ll be fine,” Tash countered and continued pushing.

  Marniq and I watched the women disappear around the corner of the wheelhouse. When the pair were out of sight, the brawny fisherman turned his attention to me. He set the remaining bags on the deck and then extended a hand toward me.

  “Good afternoon,” he greeted as we shook hands.

  Was it afternoon already? Where was the time going?

  “What brings you here?” he asked.

  “I’m trying to find Yura,” I answered. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen her during your shopping?”

  Maybe she had stocked up on supplies before heading out. It made sense, especially if she was planning a long trip by water.

  “Actually, I came here before I went shopping,” he said. “I came to the boat first. She walked down the dock, past the Arctic Wizard, and got into her dad’s speedboat.”

  I almost grabbed Marniq out of sheer excitement, but I contained myself.

  “Did you see what direction she was headed in?” I asked.

  “It looked like she was heading toward the Arctic Ocean,” he answered with an embarrassed smile as the memory of his crime returned. “I don’t know if she actually went there, though.”

  “What about the speedboat?” I asked. “What does it look like?”

  “It’s red and white,” he said. “It’s in better condition than most of the speedboats around. You can’t miss it.”

  “Was she acting odd?” I persisted. “Kind of panicky?”

  The fisherman shook his head at this, and I could tell he was puzzled by my questions.

  “No, she wasn’t,” he answered and shrugged. “She just seemed sad.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I patted him on the shoulder.

  Before he could respond or ask a question of his own, I pushed past him and dropped back onto the dock. I could feel his gaze on my back as I jogged along the planks, but there wasn’t time to explain anything.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket with the intention of calling Cassandra, but before I had the chance to dial, my phone rang in my hand. I saw it was my paralegal’s number, and I felt myself grin. Perfect timing, as always.

  “Cassandra, I know where Yura is,” I said once I picked up. “Well, not her exact location, but a general idea of where she might be.”

  “Yeah, same here,” she replied.

  “What?” I said as I slowed my pace to a quick walk.

  “Yeah, Officer Ansong didn’t like your sudden interest in Yura’s location, so she did some digging,” my paralegal explained. “She sent someone to ask Yura’s parents if they knew where she was, and her Dad confirmed that Yura asked to use his speedboat. Officer Ansong didn’t like that answer, so she requested a plane to search the water.”

  I slowed my pace to normal walking speed as relief washed over me. “Good,” I finally said. “Has she been found? Is that why you called me?”

  “No, not yet,” she responded. “We’re hoping the plane will negate her head start, though. I called you because Vann’s phone has finally been unlocked. Officer Pingayak is letting me take a look, and I figured you’d want to do the same as well. Unless you want me to report its contents over the phone?”

  “No, no,” I answered. “I’ll be right there.”

  “See you soon,” she said and hung up.

  I put my phone away as I continued my walk back to my truck. Vann’s phone was finally unlocked, and I hoped whatever it contained provided a clear motive for Yura. More than anything, however, I hoped the evidence was enough to prove, once and for all, that Morris had nothing to do with this murder.

  Chapter 13

  The hot air of the police station blew over me as I entered the building. I found Cassandra leaning against the counter talking to a female police officer who waited by the printer as it chugged away at spitting out a document. I caught the officer’s eye, and she immediately frowned at my presence.

  The negative rea
ction prompted Cassandra to turn around and then smile at me. I walked to her side, where I discovered Pingayak had been hidden from my view by my paralegal. The man was sitting at the same computer I had seen him behind yesterday, though he seemed uncertain how to greet me. He started to smile, then glanced at the other officer, and quickly put a more stoic expression on his face.

  “Hey, Reese,” Cassandra greeted me. “Now we can get this party started.”

  Pingayak nodded at me since smiling was apparently out, and I returned the gesture with a nod of my own. He promptly stood up and walked from behind the counter, but as he was about to pass me and Cassandra, the female officer cleared her throat loudly. Pingayak stopped in his tracks, and the three of us stared at the woman.

  Her goal had been to draw only Pingayak’s attention, and so she shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of six eyes. She timidly tucked a brown strand of hair behind her ear before finally speaking.

  “What are you doing, Officer Pingayak?” she asked.

  The name came out awkwardly, and I wasn’t sure if that had been the result of her nervousness or a tendency to not call her co-worker by his last name. I got the impression she often referred to Pingayak by his first name, but because I was present, she didn’t want to display or share that kind of intimacy in front of me.

  “My job,” Pingayak answered in a calm voice.

  The woman glanced over at me, then looked over at Cassandra, who flashed a wide smile, before finally returning her gaze to Pingayak. She must have felt outnumbered because she sighed in defeat.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said. “And who you’re helping.”

  Pingayak nodded before moving past me and Cassandra toward one of the doors on the right side of the room. He opened the door to reveal a short hallway, and then looked back at me and Cassandra. With a nod of his head, he beckoned us to follow him before turning away to enter the enclosed space.

  The walls of the hallway were decorated with pictures of police officers either posing in front of the station or in front of a police cruiser. I didn’t recognize any of the officers in the pictures, and I wondered if they were ones I had yet to meet or those who had long ago retired. At the end of the hallway was an end table with a fake, potted plant in its center. Two doors were directly across from each other on either side of the hallway.

  Pingayak opened the door on the right and switched on the lights which revealed a carpeted room with a large, oval-shaped wooden table in the center surrounded by eight blue cushioned chairs. A whiteboard lined the far wall, and past notes could just be seen on the glossy surface. The conference room was significantly warmer than the rest of the building, and as I entered the room, I debated whether this concentrated heat was the result of the door being shut or an odd flow of hot air.

  I shrugged off my coat as I walked around the table so I could occupy a seat facing the door. I draped my coat on the back of my chair and then settled into the padded seat. I watched Cassandra pull out the chair at the head of the table, and once she was settled, we turned our attention to Pingayak, who still stood in the doorway.

  “I’ll be right back,” he announced before turning on his heels to head back down the hallway.

  Cassandra planted an elbow on the table and then rested her chin on her knuckles. She looked like she was deep in thought, but when she caught me staring at her, she smiled.

  “Do you have any idea how they managed to unlock his phone?” I asked as I leaned back in my chair.

  “His phone had a password, so they hoped if they could figure out the password to one of his online accounts, then it might be the same one used for his phone,” she explained. “Well, they guessed right. Vann used the same password for all of his accounts, just a slightly different variation for each one.”

  “What was the password?” I asked.

  “I have no idea,” Cassandra admitted with a shrug. “No one would tell me. I think they thought I would sneak off to where they keep the evidence and unlock the phone myself. But I don’t know where that room is, and even if I wanted to snoop around to find it, they make sure I’m never out of anyone’s sight for long. You promised I’d find secrets here, but all I’ve found so far is suspicion.”

  “We’re about to go through the phone of a dead captain who was secretly dating one of his crew members,” I said. “I’m confident there will be plenty of secrets for you to uncover.”

  “I don’t like how you phrased that,” she said with a grimace. “I feel like I’m desecrating Vann’s corpse by going through his phone.”

  “It’s not desecration,” I argued. “It’s finding justice. This phone could contain the clue we need to prove Morris’ innocence.”

  “Too bad we have to invade Vann’s privacy to do it,” she muttered.

  “Well, if it bothers you so much, then you don’t have to look at anything on the device,” I suggested.

  “No, no, no,” she protested with a vigorous shake of her head. “I said it felt like desecrating his corpse, not that it was. Besides, justice and all that.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. For all that my new paralegal protested against the invasion of privacy, I could tell she was really curious to know what was on the phone. It was a natural human response, and the reason ‘reality shows’ were so popular. Looking through Vann’s phone was simply an extension of that.

  We waited a minute longer before Pingayak returned holding a clear, plastic bag. The bag was set on the table between me and Cassandra as the plump officer took the seat across from me. I reached over to grab the bag, but Pingayak picked it up first and opened it. Cassandra and I watched the officer remove the phone from its holding and then fiddle with its touchscreen. The phone was thin but long enough to barely fit in the palm of the officer’s hand. The black cover over the phone added to its bulkiness.

  “You can’t pick up the phone,” Pingayak explained as he placed the smartphone in between me and Cassandra. “I have to be able to see everything you click on.”

  Cassandra and I nodded at him and then leaned forward to hover over the iPhone. The home screen was displayed, and it showed a picture of Vann, Yura, and Ronan standing in front of the Vintage Vann on a drydock as the background. I immediately tapped on the icon for text messages and held my breath as the app opened.

  A list of conversations filled the screen with the most recent conversations beginning at the top. Vann had received messages from several people after his death, and the fact that they were marked read rather than highlighted as new confirmed the police had already gone through his phone. Several people had sent him heartfelt farewell messages expressing their hopes that he was resting in heaven. I didn’t recognize the names of these people, and some of them had not been saved as a contact to his phone, but that didn’t stop me from clicking on each message to open up the full conversation.

  Most of these senders hadn’t spoken to Vann in months, and so the conversation history between the deceased captain and the sender was brief. I quickly moved on to the next person and did the process all over again. Tap on message, inspect the short conversation history, move on to the next. I doubted any of these people had a connection to the murder case, but a good lawyer was always thorough.

  When I quickly moved on to another conversation, I could see out from the corner of my eye that Cassandra had thrown an annoyed glance in my direction. I could see she was desperate to analyze every single message on the phone, but I didn’t have the patience or interest. If it wasn’t related to the case, then there was no need to waste another second looking at it. As I continued down the list of messages, I understood just how popular Vann was. People who had never sent him a message before decided that their first and final message to the captain would be a farewell one.

  I finally stopped when I reached a conversation history that was far more extensive than the previous ones. I had finally broken through to the conversation histories that mattered, and I noticed that none of them contained a farewell me
ssage. The people closest to Vann, it appeared, hadn’t bothered to send one. Likely this was because they had seen him the day of his death, and therefore had a recent memory to remember him by. There was no need to send a goodbye when they had been able to deliver one in person, though of course, they hadn’t known it would be a final farewell.

  The conversation history I had just opened was the last one Vann had engaged in on the night of his death. He had sent a question around eight p.m. asking if someone was ready. The receiver of the text had sent a reply confirming they were. Vann had then sent a final message saying he was on his way. I looked up at the top of the screen to see who he had been conversing with, and I arched my eyebrows in surprise when I discovered a pink heart emoji instead of a name. This had to be a conversation with Yura.

  I scrolled up hoping to get some context as to what Vann had been asking about. My guess was that he had wanted to know if Yura was ready to spend time on his boat, but there was no earlier discussion to confirm that. I scrolled up some more and discovered that most of the conversations between the two were just as brief and unhelpful. It made sense since the two had lived in a small city and had seen each other almost every day. Why converse through text when you could talk face to face? But this made things difficult for me, since I’d have to rely on testimony from Yura as to what Vann was referencing.

  I scrolled up to a message from two days prior where Yura had sent a message saying she wanted to see him. Vann had responded once again with a message saying he was on his way. I shook my head since this wasn’t useful at all, though it did show the pair seemed to meet regularly.

  I scrolled up again until I came to a message from two weeks ago that made me hold my breath and caused Cassandra to release a small gasp. Vann had sent a picture of the Barolo wine bottle sitting on his kitchen counter.

  “We should enjoy this,” Vann had sent with the picture.

  “Where should we?” Yura had responded.

  “My boat,” Vann had sent. “Let’s meet up and make plans.”

  Cassandra reached out to touch the phone, but she stopped when Pingayak placed his hand down on the table in front of her as a warning. She glanced up at the officer and then offered an apologetic smile. She brought her hand back to her side and returned her attention to the phone’s screen.

 

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