Polar (Book 1): Polar Night

by Julie Flanders

  At some point, Montargy’s grandson decided to put an end to the rumors and find out the truth about his grandfather. He and town officials opened the family tomb, and found the decayed bodies of the Montargy family. But one body in the tomb was not the least bit decayed. The body of the vicomte appeared intact, his skin fresh and his hair and fingernails immaculate. The terrified and bewildered grandson drove a thorn into his grandfather’s heart and had the body cremated. The child murders ceased.

  Danny leaned back on the couch and finished his beer. Could this have really happened? Was Montargy an earlier version of his own Aleksei? He opened another beer and jumped when he heard her voice.

  “What are you up so late reading about, Danny?”

  “You’re not here, Caroline.”

  “I’m not?”

  “No. It’s just the French. It reminded me too much of you.”

  Danny cursed himself for going to the French websites and reading so much in his dead wife’s family language. He felt his throat closing up. He could hear Caroline coming up behind him at home while he worked and feel her wrapping her hands around his waist. She’d rest her head on his shoulder and look at his mess of notes and documents.

  “What are you working on, mon coeur?”

  Danny choked back tears. My heart. The pet name Caroline had called him for as long as he could remember. She had always laughed at his complete inability to pronounce it correctly. His mind drifted back in time.

  “What are you working on, mon coeur?”

  Danny reached his hand up and stroked Caroline’s cheek.

  “Just this damn case I’ve been stuck on.”

  “You should come to bed. It’s late.”

  “I know but I’m almost done.”

  Caroline kissed his cheek and ran her hand up his chest.

  “I worry about you when you get like this, you know. I can’t help it. You don’t eat, you’re hardly sleeping…”

  “I’ll be fine as soon as I get this sorted out.”

  Caroline stood up and kissed the top of Danny’s head.

  “Alright then. I’m going to bed. Good night.”

  Danny grabbed her hand and held it to his lips.

  “Good night, babe. I love you.”

  “Love you too, chéri.” She grinned at him as she headed for their bedroom. “Wake me up when you come to bed.”

  Danny grinned back. “I already planned to.”

  The sound of howling wind battering his windows brought Danny back to the present and his empty apartment. He stood up and paced the room, forcing himself to focus his mind where it needed to be. On Alaska and Aleksei Nechayev and vampires.

  He sat back down and read a bit more about the intriguing vicomte de Montargy, learning that his infamy continued to persist to this day. He even had his own online fan club, and people who claimed to be both descendants of the vicomte and vampires themselves.

  Danny thought they all sounded like lunatics, but he couldn’t deny that the original story of Montargy interested him. After what he had encountered in Coldfoot, he wasn’t above believing it was true.

  He’d had enough of French though and quickly returned to English websites. Not that they wouldn’t remind him of Caroline too. He had realized quite a while ago that virtually everything reminded him of Caroline. He didn’t see that changing any time soon.

  As Danny continued his research, he was surprised to read of vampire sightings and stories in more recent times. In 2002, reports of vampire attacks swept through the African country of Malawi, and mobs accused the government of colluding with vampires. In the mid-1990s, vampiric entities called chupacabras, or “blood suckers” were frequently reported in Mexico and Puerto Rico. In 2004, relatives of a Romanian man feared he had become a vampire and dug up his corpse so they could burn it. In the early 1970s, vampire hunters flocked to Highgate Cemetery in London after reports that a vampire frequented the place. The reports were said to be rumors started by the local press, but many continued to believe in the existence of the “Highgate Vampire.”

  Danny felt both comforted and horrified by the various reports. On one hand, he couldn’t believe he was actually reading them and considering the possibility that they were true. But on the other hand, he was glad that he wasn’t the only one who had apparently encountered a creature that couldn’t be explained by ordinary means. He felt some sort of kinship to the various people involved in the tales.

  And he also felt like a drunk lunatic. He glanced at his clock and groaned at the time. 3:00 in the morning. Captain Jack Meyer would be blustering about the office and wondering where Danny was in just a few short hours.

  He rubbed his eyes and got up from the couch, figuring he might as well hit the sack and get at least a few hours of sleep. He’d finished the six-pack anyway and he’d had enough of vampire tales for one night.

  He stumbled to his bed, kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his boxers, throwing his clothes on a chair next to his bed. He burrowed under his heavy blankets and fell asleep as soon as his head touched his pillow. He dreamed of Caroline.

  Chapter 25

  To his own surprise, Danny managed to stumble into his office by 8:00 am, after his usual breakfast of coffee, Pop-Tarts, and Excedrin. He couldn’t stop thinking about the Frenchman Montargy and the other vampire sightings he had spent most of the night reading about. A few hours of sleep and the dawn of a new day, in spite of the fact that the sun would not show its face for hours yet, had convinced Danny that everything he had read about the supposed undead had been a bunch of crap. So why couldn’t he get it out of his head that Aleksei Nechayev could be another in a long line of undead beings roaming the earth?

  Maybe it was the hangover or the residual effects of his trip to the haunted Arctic asylum. Whatever the reason, Danny couldn’t deny it that he was seriously starting to believe that Aleksei really was a vampire. Or at least some sort of creature that defied explanation. He couldn’t shake the feeling he had gotten when he shook Aleksei’s hand and looked into his eyes. Whatever Nechayev was, it wasn’t like anything he had ever encountered before. And he wouldn’t have thought that was possible.

  At any rate, he was glad the night was over now, and he would soon be greeted with daylight and the return of human companionship. He’d had enough of ghosts. He was also relieved to see December 26th on the calendar. It was a pleasure to have Christmas over for another year.

  Danny was more than ready to work. If there was one benefit to his trip to Coldfoot, it was that the meeting with Nechayev had renewed his determination to get to the bottom of this case. It had been a long time since Danny had wanted to attack a case with this much vigor.

  He might not have any evidence on Aleksei Nechayev now, but that would change. He just needed to know where to look. If Nechayev didn’t keep his victims at Snow Creek, he must have another place where he took them. Danny also needed to find out who else Nechayev had kidnapped, and likely murdered, over the years. He was certain there were lots more unsolved cases, and lots more missing women. He just had to find them.

  He started searching through the Alaska property records, certain Aleksei must own more property besides the Snow Creek resort. To his frustration, he came up empty-handed. He racked his brain for anything he and Terry could have missed on their visit to Snow Creek, but was sure they had covered everything. If Aleksei didn’t have Maria Treibel there, and he didn’t own more land where he could be holding her, there had to be an abandoned place somewhere that he claimed as his own. Or perhaps he had purchased property under another name?

  Danny sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair as he leaned back in his desk chair and stared outside at the light traffic going by on Cushman Street. Most people were at home sleeping off their Christmas celebrations and the street was nearly empty of passers-by. He was getting nowhere fast with his real estate search. Maybe he’d have better luck looking for more victims.

  Danny was sure that he would find connected cases all
over Alaska, and realized he should not have originally limited his search to just Fairbanks. He also knew that Nechayev could easily have ventured in to Canada to find his prey. Or to the Northwestern US. Danny needed more tools and a broader scope, and he knew just where to find it.

  For the first time since he had moved to Alaska, Danny took out his phone and called Chicago. He briefly wondered what time it was there, and was momentarily confused about whether he was ahead of Chicago time or behind, but then decided he didn’t give a damn anyway. He didn’t want to waste any more time, and this had to start now.

  “Hello, this is Agent John Fisher.”

  Danny was relieved to hear his old friend’s voice.

  “Hello, Agent Fisher. This is Danny Fitzpatrick.”

  He wasn’t surprised to hear nothing but silence on the other end of the line.

  “Fitzpatrick?” John finally said. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not at all.”

  “What the fuck? Where are you?”

  “I’m in Alaska. I work in Fairbanks now.”

  “Alaska? Are you kidding me?”

  “Still not kidding you.”

  “Why haven’t you called anyone? I haven’t heard from you since…”

  He stopped talking in mid-sentence, illustrating exactly why Danny hadn’t called anyone. He couldn’t bear the awkward silences and the “how are you doing?” mumblings he knew he would get after Caroline’s death.

  Danny cleared his throat. “I know. It’s been a long time. I’m sorry. I just needed to get out of Chicago.”

  “I understand,” John said, in a voice that made it clear he didn’t. “So what’s up now? What can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping you’d ask that. I need access to your databases.”

  “What? Are you…” he stopped himself again.

  “You were going to ask me if I’m kidding you again, right? Once more, I’m not.”

  “You got me. But if you’re not kidding me, then you must be fucking nuts.”

  “I won’t dispute that. But I still need the access. I’m working on a case involving missing women. I don’t have the tools up here to do an extensive search. I need to be able to look outside of Fairbanks, outside of Alaska, and possibly outside the country. Canada, at least. I need the FBI, John.”

  “So you want my credentials to log in?”

  “Yes.”

  “No way. You really are nuts. You think I don’t need my job? I’d get fired for this in a heartbeat. Forget it.”

  Danny sighed. He had expected this response, but he figured there couldn’t be any harm in trying. “Alright then. How about you go through your system for me. I’ll give you the search criteria.”

  John was silent, obviously trying to decide how to answer.

  “Oh, come on,” Danny said. “Don’t try to act like you’re too busy. You think I don’t know the FBI slows down at Christmas, too? I bet you’re sitting in a half-empty office right now, aren’t you? And, you’re pissed you’re stuck at work, am I right?”

  “Not far off.”

  “Well then, what have you got to lose? You do my search for me, and send me everything you can find. I’ll do all the work going through the files and finding the women that match my case.”

  John paused again, and Danny could visualize him leaning back in his chair and drumming his fingers on his desk. “Alright,” he finally said. “Tell me what you need.”

  Danny gave John the details on Anna and Maria, and the search criteria he was looking for.

  “How far back do you want me to go?” John asked.

  Danny thought of Amanda Fiske and her crazy ideas. Did he really want to go there? He shook his head. Fuck it. “Go back as far as you can, nothing’s too old. Just give me everything you can find.”

  “So you want old cases? You think you’re dealing with some kind of a copy cat?”

  “Possibly.” Danny left it at that. He could only imagine John’s reaction if he said he might be dealing with a vampire.

  “Alright,” John said. “I’ll send you what I can find, shouldn’t take long. One condition, though.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want to know how this case ends up. And if you make some huge arrest, I want in on it.”

  Danny rolled his eyes. “I’ll give you credit, don’t worry.”

  “It’s good to hear from you, Fitzpatrick.”

  “Thanks. Good talking to you, too.” Danny spoke mechanically, hoping John couldn’t tell he didn’t mean a word he was saying.

  He gave John his contact information and thanked him again for his help. He hung up the phone and returned to staring out the window. There was nothing to do now but sit and wait.

  Chapter 26

  Danny didn’t have to wait long before a report from John Fisher appeared in his inbox. He clicked on the e-mail, and immediately began to download the attached files. Within minutes, the files were printed out and waiting for him.

  He grabbed the papers from the printer and walked back to his cubicle, where he slid into his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. He was glad to see that Fisher had been considerate enough to arrange the files chronologically. Or at least, his database had been. Fisher likely had nothing to do with it.

  Danny read through the first report in his stack. Rachel McKenzie went missing in December of 2011. A 25 year old blond woman, she was last seen leaving the doctor’s office where she worked in Ketchikan, Alaska.

  He paged through the reports.

  December, 2010, Allison Saunders, 28 and blond, went missing in Juneau. Last seen leaving her law office.

  December, 2007, Kristen Barrowman. Barrowman was a 23 year old blond who had disappeared in Anchorage. She was reported missing on December 23, and the last anyone could remember seeing her had been on the 21st. The Solstice.

  December, 2005, Angela Marshall. Last seen at a shopping mall in Seattle, Washington. She was tall and thin, with striking long blond hair. She’d disappeared on the winter solstice. No body was ever found and the case was never solved.

  December, 2002. Beautiful, blond-haired Erin Rothman disappeared from the town of Crescent City, California, about 20 miles south of the Oregon border.

  December, 2001. Rebecca Scoggins. Disappeared in Prince George, British Columbia.

  December, 1998. Bailey Simmons, last seen in Ketchikan, Alaska.

  December, 1995. Samantha Sharapova. Disappeared in Vancouver, British Columbia.

  Danny leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling over his desk. So many women, in so many different jurisdictions. No bodies had ever been found, and the cases had all quickly gone cold. It was the norm with missing person cases. Cops could never be sure if the person hadn’t simply disappeared on purpose, so when there was no sign of foul play, it was easy to let the cases slide. Danny was sure his killer knew that. More specifically, he was sure Aleksei Nechayev knew that.

  But what had he done with all the bodies? Danny thought back to his visit to Coldfoot. How hard would it be to hide bodies in a landscape as barren as that? Danny couldn’t imagine a better place for a murderer to take up residence.

  He put his feet on the floor and leaned over the papers on his desk, rifling through them to find older files. He didn’t want to admit why he was doing it.

  December, 1965. Betty O’Neill. A soldier’s daughter living at Fort Wainwright. She was only 18, blond, and beautiful, and had never been seen again after she left home to attend the winter solstice celebration in downtown Fairbanks. Danny felt his jaw clench.

  December, 1950. Anna Maria Thiessen. Another military kid, this time living at Elmendorf Air Force Base in Anchorage. Another blond 18 year old.

  Danny put the papers down as he felt his stomach turning. He wondered when Nechayev had graduated to adult women instead of 18 year old kids. If he went back farther into the past, would he find even younger girls?

  He browsed through a few more reports and got his answer.

  December, 19
30. A 16 year old girl named Elena Dobrynin had disappeared in Sitka, Alaska. Had this been Nechayev’s first victim?

  Danny tossed the pages onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. What the hell was he doing here? How could Nechayev have kidnapped someone in 1950, let alone 1930? Danny had just met the guy and he sure as hell wasn’t anything close to a senior citizen.

  So why had he even looked at the old files? Was he looking for a copycat, as Fisher assumed? Or was he finally as crazy as Amanda Fiske? He needed to stop staring at these files of ghosts and talk to someone rational.

  As if on cue, Tessa walked in and headed for her desk. Danny turned to her and smiled.

  “Hey there,” he said. “I thought you were still off today?”

  Tessa shrugged. “I had the day off, but I wanted to get back with you on the Treibel case.”

  “You got something new on it?”

  “I don’t have anything on it. Trail’s completely cold.”

  “That’s no surprise. That’s what happened with Anna Alexander, too.”

  “I know. I guess I was just hoping we could turn up something from your visit to Coldfoot last night.”

  “I wish we could. But I don’t have anything more I can tell you than what I did last night. Terry and I searched that whole god-forsaken place and found nothing. The guy’s off, and he creeped us both out, but I don’t have anything tangible on him. Unless you want to arrest him based on my gut instinct.”

  Tessa frowned and rubbed her eyes.