Clem was now able to work out exactly what had happened.
“So you two followed her. You, Toria, because of the pickup. And you, Duncan, because you still had a score to settle with her. On account of Booster.”
“Yes,” Duncan admitted. “Gisèle drove onto the Ice Road. She’d told me she was supposed to meet a shaman. Maybe Pihuk, but he has an alibi, of course.” He sucked in his breath loudly. “She drove much too fast and . . . hit a pile of snow beside the road. There was no way she was going to be able to back the truck out of it. We stopped and got out. Her motor was still running. We knocked on the window. But she wouldn’t get out; she just sat there. We . . . nothing worked. Toria said, ‘Let her stew in her own juice, that’ll teach her.’ And then we drove back.”
“And the lighter?” Clem asked.
Duncan stared at the floor.
“We stopped before Inuvik because I almost shit my pants. That’s when I must have lost the lighter.”
“You simply left Gisèle behind?” Alana asked in a faraway voice.
Duncan threw up his arms.
“Christ Almighty, Alana, she poisoned Booster! She killed our best dog!”
“And I thought you were in the Crazy Hunter with Phil,” Alana shouted back.
Clem intervened before the altercation could escalate. Toria was not moving an inch; her expression showed distress.
“So Gisèle didn’t get out of the vehicle while you were there.”
Duncan shook his head.
“Like I said, she was supposed to meet up with somebody apparently. We thought it was Pihuk. He would have hauled her out. Or somebody else would have.”
Clem sat down at a nearby table and propped up his chin in his hand.
“She probably attempted to walk back to Inuvik after nobody showed up. Typical miscalculation for somebody with no knowledge of the area. And when she realized it was too cold and too far, she tried to get back to the truck. She underestimated the distance. On the way back she became exhausted, sat down, and froze to death. And in her desperation, she threw the package with the gold nugget into the snow.”
Toria grabbed her jacket and shot daggers at Duncan.
“You see, it was Gisèle’s mistake. And you put the blame on yourself, you moron. Just can’t keep your mouth shut.”
Clem banged his fist on the table.
“The police will see it differently, Toria. That poor woman paid with her life for your recklessness.”
Toria flashed hate-filled eyes at him.
“You’ve just lost your job, Clem—you can bet on it. You’ve just gotta stick your nose into somebody else’s business. And you know what? Your pal Phil bashed you on the head, I’m positive. He wanted to take you out of the race because he was afraid your new snowmobile was faster than his. He yakked about it everywhere.”
Duncan stopped her.
“That’s bullshit, Toria. Who can’t keep her mouth shut now?!”
The irony was not lost on Clem. Duncan was defending his friend Phil. Phil, who’d spilled the beans and put Duncan in the hot seat without realizing it. Phil, who let Clem know he’d watched Toria and Gisèle arguing, which ultimately put Clem on Duncan’s trail. Before he could play out the thought further, Toria bellowed, “You’re such a wimp, Duncan! Sticking with your oh-so-sweet Alana like a lapdog. She doesn’t care about anything but dogs! Dogs and gardens! It’s so fucking ludicrous!”
Clem jumped up and looked her straight in the eye.
“You poisoned Booster, Toria, didn’t you? It was you; you put the poison in her food.”
“And what if I did?” Toria shouted. She pointed toward Alana. “She had it coming, the arrogant, snot-nosed bitch! A know-it-all who isn’t even from these parts. She had it coming and more!”
Alana rushed at Toria, screaming, but Toria shoved a chair in her way and stormed out of the now-unguarded door.
CHAPTER 31
The musicians onstage inside the arena started playing; the jigging contest was now underway. A young pair hopped onto the dance floor to cheers of encouragement from the audience. The girl was in black leggings and a miniskirt; the guy had a baseball cap in his hand. They shuffled their feet in an old Scottish dance style to the strains of a guitar and a fiddle. The audience in their seats spurred the pair on with whistles and yells. After a few minutes, the next pair showed off their synchronized steps. Whites, Gwich’in, Métis, and Inuvialuit all took part in the contest. Valerie marveled at the ladies’ boots of soft caribou skin, embroidered and bordered with fur. Children in miniparkas skipped around at the edges of the dance floor, frisky as Arctic hares. Valerie noticed that the trip on the Ice Road had triggered a wave of enthusiasm in her group too. They’d spotted a lynx and an Arctic fox on the ride back to Inuvik.
Glenn was the only one who seemed a little disappointed in the dance contest. Jigging wasn’t his thing, apparently.
“I’d rather film something traditional, old Inuit parkas—or throat singing,” he complained.
“That’s coming,” she consoled him. “The festival lasts for a few more days.”
“Jigging’s traditional, too,” Paula chimed in. “Many of the early settlers in Inuvik were of Scottish descent. People here have danced the jig for centuries.”
Valerie recognized a familiar face in the crowd. Poppy Dixon fought his way to her seat.
“Hello, Poppy! All tired out? You should be shaking a leg out there!”
Poppy grinned broadly, revealing his brown teeth, the consequence of chewing tobacco.
“I need a partner. Why don’t you come with me?”
Valerie staved him off with a laugh.
“Afraid you’ll have to find somebody else.”
“I can do a jig,” Carol shouted.
Poppy’s face spoke volumes.
“I just knew I’d find a pretty woman willing to dance with me. Well, then, off we go!”
Carol followed Poppy to the line of candidates waiting for the emcee to announce them.
“I’ve definitely got to record this,” said Glenn, who suddenly decided to go along with the festivities.
Faye looked at Valerie in amusement from the other end of the row.
Valerie pointed out a pair of dancers.
“Do you want to?”
She mouthed her words because it was impossible for Faye to hear her amid the hubbub. But Faye pointed to the arena’s entranceway.
Where Clem Hardeven was standing.
Valerie acknowledged Faye’s signal and crept away. Clem had already seen her. Her heart skipped a beat.
He’s been looking for me.
“We’re going to my place,” he said right off the bat when he approached her.
They hardly talked on the way. Valerie suspected that something serious had happened. She hadn’t come across Alana or Toria in the arena, unlike in previous years. And Duncan and Helvin were nowhere to be seen either.
Meteor gave them an animated reception upon their arrival. Valerie ruffled the fur on his head with repeated shouts of, “Not so rough, boy, not so rough!”
Clem took his time making tea and feeding the fire. Watching him, Valerie felt a fluttering in her stomach.
He has tea with me but vodka with Sedna, she observed silently but scolded herself at once. His serious expression made her nervous. He hadn’t touched her even slightly so far.
“C’mon, I can’t stand the suspense any longer,” she finally exclaimed.
He sat down with her at the kitchen table and began to talk.
It was worse than she could ever have imagined. Gisèle and Duncan. Duncan and Toria. The Ice Road. Toria and Booster. Gisèle forsaken in death. Alana’s unraveling.
When he’d finished, she sat there as if a bomb had gone off.
Then she stammered, “I can’t believe it. Toria, I mean . . . I really liked her. She was always generous toward me. She . . . she opened doors for me in Inuvik. She was so helpful, I . . .”
Words failed her. She felt Clem’s e
yes on her.
“Why?” she asked.
Clem spun his cup around.
“Boredom? Jealousy? Envy? Dissatisfaction? Recklessness? Arrogance? A mishmash of everything?” He tossed his words out like a fisherman tossing bait.
He scratched his head.
“I dunno. What I do know is that she’s unhappy in her marriage. And that she hates Alana’s guts. Alana doesn’t mince words when it comes to dogs.”
“What will Alana do now? She must be devastated.”
“She doesn’t want to leave him.”
Clem patted Meteor’s head.
“And I unwittingly handed her the solution that could redeem him.” He stared off into space. “Every truck and every pickup Suntuk Logistics owns is equipped with a satellite phone. Because we never know when we’ll be on the Ice Road, and no one can risk forgetting a cell phone or leaving it in the office.”
She peered into his exhausted face and thought: I really like him very much.
“I told Alana about it,” he continued. “Now she’s convinced herself that Gisèle could have called for help on the phone. And that Duncan isn’t an accessory to her death. That he’s innocent.”
“Why didn’t Gisèle use the phone?”
“There was no way she’d have known it was there, so she didn’t look for it. Val, she’s a girl from a village in Quebec. One winter in Dawson doesn’t remake you into a local.”
“Could that have happened to me, too, do you think?”
He looked at her with an indecipherable expression on his face and didn’t respond.
I shouldn’t have let myself be kissed; he’ll break my heart.
“Do the police know?” she continued.
He nodded.
“Yes, Duncan and Alana went to the station right away. I don’t know what Toria plans to do.”
“And Helvin?”
“Haven’t heard a word out of him. That’s been happening recently, off and on.”
She sipped her tea.
“How’s it look between Duncan and Toria now?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t want to condone what happened, Val. Still, I don’t believe they meant for Gisèle to die. They were furious at her and wanted to teach her a lesson. Normally, a car or truck will come by out there. But not that night.”
He cleared his throat.
Something was on the tip of Valerie’s tongue, but she didn’t say it. Instead she asked, “So is it true what Toria said, that Phil hit you on the head so you couldn’t be in the race?”
Clem took his time with his answer. It was obviously hard for him to look that possibility square in the face.
“Even Duncan thinks it’s possible. Phil was evidently seen near my house that night. Phil’s a fanatic when it comes to snowmobiles.”
He stopped talking and lowered his eyes. Valerie thought it wise to change the subject.
“Does the media know about Duncan’s confession?”
“So far they don’t. It won’t stay that way for long, though. The cops need a win after they screwed up in Tuktoyaktuk and left Christine in the ice house after they found Roy. But they let you into the ice house, eh?”
“Yes. John Palmer was very accommodating.” She waited a beat. “I bumped into Laz, who said you’d help him. He’s trying to find a good lawyer for Tanya.”
“We’re working on it.”
He sipped some tea, then went on. “I know it sounds strange, but I think Roy Stevens would be the best person to act as Tanya’s lawyer.”
“What? I don’t get it.”
“Roy understands the hopelessness many of the young Inuvialuit feel. A lot of them have no work, no future, nothing to do. They start drinking or smoking pot. Roy’s often talked about it with me.”
He looked at Meteor, who was stretched out at his feet, head on his paws.
“Roy wants to help them. He always says a synthesis of the traditional lifestyle and modern ways is possible if you just go about it right. But parents aren’t able to do that for their young sons and daughters. He says it’s too much for them to handle. Roy says the most important thing is jobs, and I think he’s right there. Training, work, making ends meet.”
He gave a laugh that sounded like resignation.
“Right now, doctors and people in the hospital get work, and they’re nearly all white.”
Valerie couldn’t hold back any longer.
“I think Roy was the boy who was with my parents.”
Clem suspended his cup in midair.
“What’s that?”
“His father is William Anaqiina, from Tuktoyaktuk. That’s what Gary told me—he’s one of the men who helped us at the ice house. William Anaqiina moved his family to Yellowknife thirty years ago. Just after my mother died.”
She traced a finger over the tabletop.
“Like I said, John Palmer was with us at the ice house when I took my group there. He said that Christine Preston desperately wanted the police to tell me that Roy wasn’t to blame.”
She let her words hang in the air for a moment. She still wasn’t sure why Christine had felt it was so important to send that message to her.
“I’ll likely find out more when she can have visitors.”
Clem took her hand. His touch on her skin was electric, but his tone of voice was calming.
“It will all be resolved someday. Someday you’ll learn the truth. It looks like a tangled ball of yarn right now, I know. But it’s only a matter of time.”
His nearness almost pained her. Every fiber of her body was attuned to him.
Take me in your arms. Please, right now.
As if reading her mind, he got up and drew her toward him.
At that moment, she couldn’t have cared less whether this was a smart thing to do. Or worried about his one-night stand with Sedna. Or that Meteor was jealously thrusting his way into their embrace.
A few minutes later, Lazarusie burst into the house, bringing the moment to a sober end.
“They brought Roy out of his coma,” he reported.
CHAPTER 32
“Finders keepers, losers weepers,” Poppy Dixon chirped, his face beaming. “So many customers in one day!”
Valerie and Faye exchanged glances. Valerie had originally planned to take the group on a dogsled trip with Booster Adventures. But for obvious reasons, Alana and Duncan weren’t up to it. So she switched to renting snowmobiles from Poppy. Even Anika was keen to go on the excursion.
“I used to have a motorcycle,” she confessed with a laugh.
Poppy patiently explained to them how the machines worked, while his son passed around the helmets. Valerie had drummed into them the importance of dressing warmly enough. The sun was shining, but it was still bitterly cold. If she took off her gloves, her fingers quickly went numb.
With Poppy in the lead and his son as the rearguard, they left Inuvik and crossed the frozen Mackenzie. Anika steered her vehicle amazingly well, and even Trish goosed her machine on the flat ice after some initial hesitation.
Valerie followed her lead. She felt like she was flying. She shed all her worries and anxieties and was seized by the intoxication of speed, which filled her with an unforeseen sensation of happiness. It quietly annoyed her that Glenn and Jordan kept stopping to shoot the snowscape. She wanted to race ahead until she’d fall off the snowmobile, exhausted.
They pushed along a snowmobile trail cut through a wooded area on the taiga. In half an hour, they came to a trapper’s cabin, its windows boarded up with plywood. It stood on a hill sloping down to a small lake. They stopped there for a snack, which the group ate while keeping their gloves on.
The weather really was spectacular. Blue sky, sun, snow. Valerie saw delighted faces all around her.
They started on the way back shortly after noon. Glenn and Jordan didn’t hold the group up for photo ops this time, and Valerie worried that her group was on the verge of taking too much risk with their snowmobiles. Glenn bombed over the wide snow-cove
red field. Or was it Glenn? She counted them off. Someone was missing.
She dashed ahead on her snowmobile and signaled for Poppy to stop.
They all took off their helmets, and Valerie scanned the faces.
“Glenn’s missing. We’ve got to go back.”
Poppy spoke up quickly. “I’ll go look for him. Rory, you take the rest of them back, slowly. Very slowly, you hear?”
“I’m going with Poppy,” Valerie declared.
Faye picked up the ball right away.
“No problem. I’ll keep an eye on them.”
Valerie could have hugged her at that moment.
Poppy took off through the taiga without waiting, and Valerie was hot on his heels. Then they slid more leisurely over the plain, surveying their surroundings and the tracks ahead of them.
They didn’t see any place where a snowmobile could have turned off.
It seemed to Valerie that it took forever to reach the cabin above the lake again. A snowmobile was parked in front of it. And the door was open just a crack.
Poppy must have noticed it, too, because he stopped directly in front of it. Valerie followed him into the cabin. Her eyes had to adjust to the dimmer light.
An abrupt movement in a dark corner. Then she saw Glenn, kneeling before a crudely constructed bed. He turned to face them.
“She’s not breathing! She’s all cold!”
His voice registered disbelief. He stood up and walked a few steps away from the bed. Valerie stared at his horrified face. Her view of the person on the bed was blocked.
“She’s dead!” he went on. “This can’t be! How’d she die?”
Poppy composed himself and approached the bed. He bent down and felt for a pulse.
“We can’t help her; she’s gone,” he said. “We have to call the police and an ambulance.”
He walked over to Glenn.
As if led by an invisible hand, Valerie walked over to the bed. She instantly recognized the woman lying there motionless. Her face, framed by colorful strands of hair, looked peaceful, as if she were simply asleep. Valerie screamed.
“Sedna!”
“Who is she? Do you know her?” Poppy asked.
Valerie tried to speak but was struggling to breathe.
The Stranger on the Ice Page 20