Stabenow, Dana - Liam Campbell 03 - Nothing Gold Can Stay

by Nothing Gold Can Stay(lit)

  “Oh great. She found a bailing can cut from a Clorox bottle wedged beneath the bow thwart and started scooping up water and emptying it over the side. A log thudded into the skiff and they both held their breath, waiting for a hole to open up and the leak to become a gush. It didnt happen. Cold sweat trickled into Liams eyes and he wiped his forehead against his arm. The wind took the opportunity to gust hard against the port side and push the stern halfway around, so that the bow was headed toward the south shore of the river. Liam battled it back, shoulder and arm muscles straining as he pushed hard on the port oar, the starboard oar horizontal and motionless above the surface, water dripping from the blade. “How far is the fish camp from the airstrip, again? he said when they were straightened out and headed downstream once more. He was proud that his voice remained level.

  “About four miles, she said. “Why dont I teach you, too? Make it a family affair? If you understand it, if you can control it, it wont frighten you as much.

  “Do you have any idea how fast this river runs?

  She sighed. “No. Why?

  He rested the oars to check his watch. “We went into the water twenty minutes ago. Im trying to figure when well make the fish camp.

  “Its the first dock on the north shore of the river after Portage Creek.

  The wind roared overhead and snatched the words from her mouth so that he could barely hear them. “So we hug the right bank and hope we bump into it.

  “Yeah.

  Hopeless, he thought, and as if to underline the thought, there was a gust of wind so hard it spun the skiff around like a top. Wy was thrown against the side and lost her grip on the bailer, which went over the side. “Are you okay? Liam said when they stopped spinning.

  “Yeah, she said, straightening. “I lost the bailer.

  “I saw. He looked around, eyes tearing from the wind. They seemed to be in the center of the river, no bank, no trees to guide them. “Which way is downstream?

  She looked left, right. “I dont know.

  It was so dark and the surface was so choppy that it was impossible to tell which way the current was going, and the wind was blowing so hard that it negated the current anyway.

  Then there was a brief, tantalizing lull in the wind and he heard a sound, a creaking branch, or maybe the k-kk-kkrak of a raven.

  What the hell. He rowed toward it. Trees, shaken roughly in a giants hand, loomed up out of the darkness. He put the starboard side parallel to them and began to row again.

  Liam bent his head and rowed into the wind and the darkness. Push, lift, swing forward, dip, push. Push, push hard, push the water under them, behind them, away, away, along the wide Nushagak. Didnt quite have the ring of the Missouri, he thought dimly. Push, lift, swing, dip, push. His shoulders were aching, his arms numb. If only he could row with his legs, his tai chi-conditioned legs. His thighs were like iron, his calves like steel. From the waist down hed never been in such good shape.

  A high chair bolted to the thwart. Like a dentists chair, only not as heavy. Stirrups on the oar handles. Sit in the chair, put your feet in the stirrups and push, lift, swing, dip, push. If he got out of this alive, hed patent the son of a bitch.

  “Liam? Wys voice came to him from far away. “Liam?

  He realized she was standing stock-still, her head cocked as if she were listening. The oars came up and he paused, trying to hear what she did. “What? What is it?

  “Nothing, she said, and he could hear the tired smile in her voice. “Nothing at all.

  It took him a minute to comprehend what she meant. Sometime, somehow the wind had died down completely. Stopped, as if someone had thrown a switch. The surface of the river had smoothed out, hardly any chop left.

  “What happened? he said, dazed.

  “It stopped, she said, sounding as punchy as he felt. “It stopped.

  One minute later, as if in compensation, they floated into a gloomy soup of fog. It parted grudgingly before them and closed in again greedily behind them as they passed through it, and Liam had the sensation of being swallowed alive. He knew a sudden sympathy for Jonah. Water sloshed at his feet.

  Moisture condensed on their faces and hands in tiny droplets. They couldnt see ten feet in any direction. Liam kept them as close to the bank as he dared. The riverbank undulated in curving Ss, flirting with sandbanks, opening suddenly into the mouths of creeksthe wrong creek, time after time. They heard the sound of an occasional fish jump, the lost cry of a goose, the rustle of brush as something moved through a thicket. No croaking of ravens, though.

  “I feel like Charon, Liam said, his voice hushed.

  Her laugh was forced. “Where is Cerberus?

  “That was him before. The wind. Sounded like a three-headed dog howling to me.

  This time her laugh wasnt quite as forced. “Now that you mention it...

  He could barely see her through the mists that curled between them, a ghostly outline in the bow. To keep her talking, he said, maybe at random, maybe not, “Do you remember your mother?

  “Not much.

  “Was your father around?

  “No. There was a brief silence. “I dont remember him at all.

  “Lucky, he said, thinking of his own father.

  Her voice came gently out of the night and the fog. “Hes not that bad, Liam.

  “Yeah, well, whatever. She didnt know what he knew about his father and what Colonel Charles Campbell would do, had done, for promotion. She didnt know why he had made her fly him out to that archaeological dig south of Newenham and west of Chinook Air Force Base when his father had left this summer. Wy had met Charles twice. She didnt know him the way he did.

  “You named your son for him, her disembodied voice reminded him.

  “That was Jennys idea.

  “You could have changed her mind.

  “Yeah. He rowed. “Yeah, I suppose I could have. And the fact that I didnt says something.

  “Hes your father.

  “Yeah. He is that. Did you ever know who yours was?

  A raven croaked suddenly from overhead and Liam started violently, jerking the oars free of the water. Water splashed, catching both him and Wy. The stern of the skiff started to drift. The dock loomed up suddenly out of the fog, materializing into a dark rectangular shape off the starboard bow.

  They both saw it at the same time. “There!

  He pulled for shore with short, powerful strokes, and a moment later they were alongside. Liam shipped the oars while Wy fastened the bowline off to a cleat on the dock. She trotted up the dock, Liam right behind her, and they threaded their way up the path that followed the creek. Moments later they emerged into the clearing and there was the cabin. She paused just long enough to grin at him. “I told you we could make it.

  He kissed her. He hadnt meant to, but he did it anyway. “Ill never doubt you again. He added, following her to the door, “Ill never fly into a storm with you again, either.

  “I swear I hear voices, they heard someone say, and the door of the cabin opened as they walked up the steps.

  Bill stood there, astonished. “What the hell are you two doing here? And how the hell did you get here?

  TWENTY-ONE

  Newenham, September 6

  “Do you think the winds slowing down a little?

  “In the last five minutes since you asked, no.

  “Wys going to be seriously pissed if you break her computer.

  Jim spared a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, please.

  Jo, pacing restlessly back and forth across the living room of Wys house, glared at the back of his head as he sat hunched over the monitor. “What are you doing, anyway?

  “Destroying your credit rating.

  She halted. “What?

  He grinned at the screen. “Relax, Dunaway, it was joke.

  Suspiciously, she came to peer over his shoulder. “It better be. She squinted. “For gods sake. Isnt that the state troopers database?

  “Yes.

  “How did you get in?<
br />
  “Talent, Dunaway, loads and loads of talent. He scrolled down.

  “Liam gave you the password.

  He snorted. “The perfect cop breaking faith with his own force? Give me a break.

  “You hacked in? Jo glanced around nervously, as if expecting the FBI to break down the front door in the next moment. “You can get arrested for that.

  “Theyll have to catch me first. He turned and they practically bumped noses. For that single moment, time seemed to stop. She could feel his breath on her face. He could see every separate dark blond lash on her eyelids. For a frozen moment, neither of them moved. Bridget and Luke, playing a noisy game of cribbage at the kitchen counter, seemed to fade from the room.

  She jerked back, eyes wide with dismay.

  “Well, well, he said, just as startled but quicker to recover.

  “Well, well, nothing, she said. She took what she hoped was an unobtrusive step backward. “I asked you what you were looking at.

  You, he thought. And now that I am, I wont stop until I get you. But he was a patient man, and there was a time and a place for everything. Not here, not now. But somewhere and soon. “Disappearances, he said, turning back to the computer.

  “Disappearances? She took a cautious step forward, positioning herself so that she could just barely read the text on the screen over his shoulder, but far enough away to run if she had to. Not that she would, she wasnt a coward.

  “Yeah.

  “What disappearances?

  “Women. Young women. Gone missing. All from the Bristol Bay area. Unconsciously, she took another step forward, and he smiled to himself when he felt her warmth at his shoulder.

  “You mean like Rebecca Hanover?

  “I mean exactly like Rebecca Hanover. He sat back. The fuzz of her sweater brushed the back of his head. She didnt notice. He did. “Last night at dinner you were talking about another woman who went missing.

  “Stella Silverthorne.

  “Yeah. Then Wy was talking about the daughter of the postmistress that got killed, what was her name...

  Jos reportorial instincts were kicking in, the mental Rolodex whirring, click, stop. “Ruby Nunapitchuk.

  “Yeah.

  “I remember that story. The dad took the kids out hunting, right? Two sons and two daughters?

  “Yeah, and lost one of the daughters.

  “They never found the body.

  “Nope. He nodded at the screen. “Bill Billington ruled on a presumptive death hearing the following spring. Accidental death due to misadventure. The parents filed an appeal, which was denied.

  “What was the basis of their appeal?

  “You ever talk to a magistrate about presumptive death hearings?

  She shook her head.

  “Nobody wants to believe in accidental death. Its tooits too

  “Accidental? she suggested.

  “Smart-ass, he said, “but yeah. You lose somebody you love, you want there to be a reason. He cant have fallen into a glacier, or off a boat, or down a mountain. Death cant be that random, that irrational, not for a lot of people.

  “Makes sense.

  “Ha, ha. Sit down with Bill sometime, get her to tell you some of the arguments surviving family members have put forward to vacate a judgment of accidental death. They come in two kinds: weird, and weirder. He was pushed into that glacier, he was dumped off that boat, he was tripped down that mountain. He was about to take over the glacier tour company, and the current owner bumped him off. He seduced the boat captains daughter, and the captain keelhauled him. The climb leader had designs on his body, and when he wouldnt put out, cut the rope between them.

  “Sounds like a story. He shook his head in feigned exasperation at her single-mindedness. She grinned. Their eyes met. The grin faded. “Yes. Well. So you started looking up missing women.

  “Women missing in the Bristol Bay area, he said. He tilted the chair back, coming solidly up against her, and linked his hands behind his head. She was still for a moment before moving back, but not that much back. His dark hair stood up in a rooster tail from repeated impatient pullings, and he was frowning behind his glasses. “It didnt hit me until last night, when you were telling us the story about Finn Grant and his lost hunting party, and how one of the women was never found. Interesting, I thought, two women missing in the Bush, same general area, only four years apart. Then I remembered what Wy said about the postmistresss daughter, and how she was lost eight years ago.

  Jo was skeptical but interested. “Okay, how many of these women missing in the Bristol Bay area have you found?

  He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees, frowning down at his clasped hands. “Seven. Altogether.

  “Seven? Her tolerant smile and indulgent tone of voice vanished. One quick step had her back at his shoulder. “Show me.

  He was more troubled by his discovery than he was triumphant at having piqued her interest. “I accessed the missing persons records for the judicial district for the last twenty-five years, which is as far back as theyve got in the data base. Ruby Nunapitchuk eight years ago, Stella Silverthorne five years ago, Rebecca Hanover four days ago.

  “All women.

  “All young women, he said. “Rebecca Hanover is thirty-two. Ruby Nunapitchuk was seventeen. Stella Silverthorne was twenty-six.

  “Opal was fifty-six.

  “Yeah, she was the oldest by about twenty years.

  “She might not have looked her age, though, Jo said slowly. “Wait a minute. She rolled the chair back with him on it and pulled open the drawer. A pad of yellow sticky notes and a pen later, she shoved both back in.

  “Just move me out of your way if Im in it, he said, ruffled.

  She wasnt listening, staring instead at the map on Wys wall. “Okay, she said, scribbling. One sticky note with a name and a date went on the map at Nenevok Creek, another at Kagati Lake, a third at Weary River. “All right. Who else?

  “I worked backwards, most recent reported disappearances first. Cheryl Montgomery disappeared right off of Four Lake two years ago. She was an experienced backwoodsman, too, someone you wouldnt think of getting lost.

  Jo inspected the face smiling up at her from the monitor. “Shes lovely.

  “Yeah. And lost.

  “Okay. A fourth sticky note at Four Lake. “Who else?

  “In 1992, Brandiwith an i Whitaker was mushing the Kuskokwim 500. She disappeared along with her whole team. Everybody figured theyd fallen into a lead. There wasnt much fuss; she didnt have much family and she wasnt that good a musher.

  A fifth sticky note went up. “Next?

  “In 1991, Ruby Nunapitchuk. Then back four years, and Kristen Anderson goes missing. Fishermans wife, out of Koggiling. She was alone at fish camp. When her husband came to pick her up, she was gone. Salmon on the drying racks, but the fire had been cold for at least a day. Again, there is no hint of foul play in the case file. They had a good reputation in Koggiling. Three kids, sober, well liked.

  A sixth sticky note.

  “And then as far back as Ive been so far, 1986, Paulette Gustafson.

  “Same year as Whitaker?

  “Yeah.

  Then it hit her. “Gustafson?

  “Yeah?

  “As in former state senator Ted Gustafson?

  “Yeah.

  “Wy mentioned him. Hes on her mail route. The diabetic.

  “Yeah.

  “I cant believe she stayed missing for long.

  “She still is, despite what looks like a full-scale search effort from everyone from the Alaska state troopers to the FBI.

  “The FBI?

  He shrugged. “There are references made to them; I havent tracked them down yet.

  “What was she doing here?

  “Visiting high school friends. She was a bit of a rounder, it sounds like. She and a group of her old high school buddies drove up to the One Lake campground, had from what all accounts say was one hell of a party, and when everybody woke up three days later
to pack up and go home, Paulette Gustafson was missing.

  “They never found her.

  “Nope.

  A seventh sticky note. Jo stood back and stared at the map, festooned now with what she considered to be entirely too many little yellow flags. “Seven in, what, twelve years?

  “Thirteen. And this is only so far as we know, remember. Only what has made it into the trooper data bank.

  Behind them, Bridget toted up some impossible score and pegged out, and suffered Lukes mock displeasure with a complacent air.

  Jo took a deep, careful breath. “You mean

  “I mean there might be more, he said bluntly. “How many little villages out there who never call the troopers if they can possibly help it? How many kids drown in the river without anybody ever knowing, with their people chalking it up to Maniilaq or whatever malevolent spirit happens to be flitting through at that time of year? A lot of these folks havent made it into the twentieth century yet, Jo, never mind the twenty-first.

  She stared at the map, her skin cold. “Seven women, all young, all disappeared within sixty miles of one another, all within the space of thirteen years. She looked at him. “How can no one have noticed?

  He shook his head. “None of them are related. Half of them are from Anchorage. Four, five of them were engaging in high-risk activities, hunting, canoeing, mushing. Youre a reporter, Jo, youve written enough stories about this kind of thing, you know it happens.

  She pointed, one at a time. “Paulette Gustafson, 1986. Same year, Kristen Anderson. A five-year gap between her and Ruby Nunapitchuk in 1991. A year after her, Brandi Whitaker. Two years after Brandi, Stella Silverthorne. Three years after Stella, Cheryl Montgomery.

  “And now, two years later, Rebecca Hanover.

  They stared at the map in silence for a moment. The shuffle of cards and the murmur of voices behind them seemed very far away.

  She looked at him, her eyes glittering. “Seven times is a serial killer, Jim. We need to talk to Liam.

  He looked past her out the window. “Right about now, he should be busting up the party at Old Man Creek. If Wy managed to get them down without wrecking the plane.

  Jo didnt even bristle. “Then lets go see Prince.

  Old Man Creek, September 6