Alaska Heart

by Christine DePetrillo

  Aaron’s eyes glinted in the sunlight streaming in from the wide front windows of the market. “You’ve got pretty hair, Alanna.”

  “You have nice eyes, Aaron.”

  The boy’s cheeks pinked, and he popped four more cans onto the shelf in front of him. “Thanks.”

  “Can you help me find a few things? I’m going to attempt to cook dinner.”

  “For Dale?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

  My turn to nod.

  “Seafood’s his favorite,” Aaron said confidently.

  “Excellent. My intention was a crabmeat linguini. Do you think that’ll work?”

  “That should be perfect.”

  Aaron helped me obtain all the necessary ingredients and then led me over to the register where an older woman with the same golden eyes stood post.

  “Mom,” Aaron said. “This is Alanna. She’s Dale’s friend.”

  Mrs. Wexler flitted a glance my way. “It’s about time that boy got himself a friend who looks like you do.”

  My cheeks grew a little hot.

  “Boy like him ought to be spending less time with those dogs and more time finding someone to settle down with,” she continued. “Been saying that for years.”

  “Oh, I live in New York, so I don’t think he’ll be settling down with me.” My chest tightened as those words came out.

  “I’d like to see him settled just the same. I knew his mama, and she’d want him to be happy. Happy as his sister and her brood.”

  Mrs. Wexler rang up my supplies while Aaron bagged them. I paid, and Aaron offered to bring them to my car. When we neared the exit, Zynk’s tail lowered, and a growl resonated in his throat. I maneuvered around him, but he moved to block my path. I nearly tripped over him.

  “You okay?” Aaron used his leg to nudge Zynk over. The dog barely budged but moved enough that Aaron was able to skirt around him.

  “Yeah, but that’s the second time Dale’s dogs have acted this way. Back at his house, all the dogs went loco in the backyard.”

  “Hmm.” Aaron furrowed his brow. “That’s not like them.”

  “That’s what I thought too.” A shudder rippled down my body.

  Zynk sniffed the air again and stalked through the door with alert ears. He looked back at me as if signaling I should follow him.

  “What? The coast is clear now?” I rolled my eyes and left the market. Opening the passenger door of the car, I stepped aside so Zynk could hop in, but he made no move to do so. Instead, he circled me several times. After Aaron loaded the bags into the trunk, Zynk barked and nudged me with his muzzle.

  “Weird,” Aaron said. “C’mon, Zynk. In you go.” He patted the passenger seat, and Zynk finally climbed up.

  “Thanks for your help, Aaron.” I patted the boy’s shoulder, part of me not wanting him to leave me alone in the parking lot. “Dale must love having you help him with the dogs.”

  “Dale’s awesome. I’d help him even if he didn’t pay me,” Aaron said. He held onto the car door after I got behind the wheel. “Don’t tell him that though, because I need the money. Sherry McAlson won’t go out with me until I get a car.” He shrugged. “Take care, Alanna.”

  As I shut the car door, he jogged back into the market.

  Teenage boys and their problems. If only the world stayed that uncomplicated.

  I found myself racing into Dale’s house with the groceries as if someone were chasing me. Used to be I’d walk alone at night from Gaia to my apartment when the weather was right. Now here I was, totally spooked.

  “Get a grip, Cormac.”

  Turning on the small kitchen TV for noise, I busied myself with simmering the crabmeat-clam sauce and boiling linguini, while garlic bread baked in the oven. I made a quick lemon vegetable medley and stashed that in the fridge next to the wine I had chilling there as well. Setting the table, I fussed with folding the napkins into heart shapes and lighting candles.

  When I padded back into the kitchen, the evening news was on.

  “Police found another body by the Chena River this afternoon. Again, the victim was naked and in her late twenties to early thirties. The medical examiner confirmed she was strangled like the previous four victims. A wolf head tattoo was emblazoned across her forearm as well. Police are investigating leads, but are asking for citizens’ help in tracking down this criminal.”

  The reporter listed a phone number and website that were accepting tips. I rubbed my biceps to warm the ice that now flowed in my veins. Although I had done well with my article in the morning, the afternoon had taken an unpleasant, eerie turn. I snapped off the TV and contemplated whether silence was worse or not.

  Thankfully, the garage door opener sounded, and my heart leaped in my chest. Zynk clawed once at the door to the garage and then sat back on his haunches, waiting for Dale and Gypsy. I had trouble refraining from doing the same and then thought, what the hell.

  I sat on the floor next to Zynk and flopped my arm around the dog’s neck. He licked my cheek once and turned his head back to the door. When it opened and Dale appeared, I had the urge to do this every day for as long as I lived.

  “Now this is a welcome home,” Dale said as Gypsy wiggled by him to touch noses with Zynk.

  Dale held out a bunch of purple tulips, and I jumped to my feet.

  “Tulips!”

  “I was hoping I got that right.”

  “You totally got that right.” I tossed myself at him, kissing everything in reach. He kissed back with soft, yet deep strokes that stopped time.

  “Oh,” he whispered, “I so needed that.” He stepped back from me, slid out of his jacket, and hung it by the door.

  “Dale! A full cast?” I took his forearm in my hands and stroked his fingers that peeked out.

  “Yeah.” His full, kissable lips turned down at the corners. “Remember how I said this morning it hurts like a bastard when I move it?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s because it is a bastard. A fractured bastard. Not a sprained one, but a fractured one.”

  “Ouch. What’s the timetable on this?”

  “Who knows?” He slumped against the countertop. “I have another appointment in three weeks.” He headed for the refrigerator but stopped and sniffed instead. “What smells so good?”

  “Dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I’m always hungry.”

  “Good. Maybe it will take your mind off the less enjoyable parts of your day. Dare I ask how the interview went?”

  “That was fine. I may have had a bit of an attitude, because I was ticked about my wrist, but she’s going to edit the hell out the interview anyway. It shouldn’t show I was ready to kill someone.” He flashed his eyes at me, and I stood stone still, looking away from Dale.

  “What?” He took a step toward me.

  “Nothing. I…”

  Dale took another step closer and placed his hand on my shoulder.

  “They reported another body was found by the Chena River. It creeped me out. And then your dogs went wild in the backyard today after I talked to you on the phone. Zynk wouldn’t let me leave the market today either until he deemed the coast clear. It was weird.”

  The skin between Dale’s eyebrows creased. He craned his neck to look outside through the kitchen window, but darkness had crept in. He walked to the back door and flicked on the spotlights. Several pairs of dog eyes reflected the light, and a few yaps sounded.

  “You seem concerned,” I said. “I didn’t overreact, did I?”

  “It could be nothing.” Dale turned around and gathered me in his arms.

  I huddled against him.

  “My dogs don’t usually go crazy without a stimulus, though.” He held up his wrist and clenched his teeth. “Like an annoying photographer, for example.”

  I reached up and cupped Dale’s face in my hands. “Poor baby. After dinner, I’ll see what I can do to make you feel better.” I brought my lips to his, and we enjoyed pre-meal samples.

  “Mmm,” Dale
hummed. “If that food tastes nearly as good as you, we’re in for some good eats.” He grasped my chin in his hand and went for another round on my lips.

  After pulling away reluctantly, Dale looked over his shoulder toward the backyard. “Why don’t I feed them, take a poke around, for my own peace of mind, and meet you back here in fifteen minutes?”

  “Not a minute more.” I followed Dale as he retrieved his jacket.

  “Not a minute more.”

  After he went outside, I fanned out precisely cut pieces of garlic bread on a platter and poured generous amounts of wine into our glasses. Stepping back to admire the table, I considered going into the office to get my camera. Meg would have a hard time believing I’d managed such a meal on my own. The state of Alaska, however, had brought out a number of hidden talents.

  I took it upon myself to feed Gypsy and Zynk. Both of them chowed down food as if they hadn’t eaten in months. They wandered around a few moments, their paws scritch-scratching on the hardwood floors. Gypsy rose to her hind legs next to the dining room table and eyed the portions of the meal I had already spread out. I don’t think she was used to such an image.

  “Oh no you don’t.” I tapped her on the nose, and she slunk to all fours. “You had your dinner.”

  Zynk urged her toward their basket. She finally conceded and followed her mate. Zynk stepped into the basket first and filled the back of it, circling a few times before settling down. Gypsy wasted no time bedding down in front of him, her backside nestled securely against him.

  I sat at the table, placing my napkin on my lap, which made the meal more formal than I had intended. Looking at my thermal shirt and jeans, I rolled my eyes.

  “Way to package yourself, Cormac.” I got up and stole a peek out to the yard from the kitchen window. The dogs all had their noses in their bowls. Dale was beyond the fence, the wide beam of a flashlight skimming over the ground and into the trees. The light gleamed off the aluminum of a baseball bat he held in his other hand. Closing my eyes, I willed him to turn around and come inside though that would leave me no time to slip into another outfit.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Dale walked through the back gate of the fence, giving it a sharp tug after he locked it behind him. He collected the empty bowls and disappeared into the shed. If I moved now, I could change, but something held me against the sink. As if I needed to see him walk out of the shed. Needed to make sure he was all right.

  When Dale emerged, he doubled checked the lock on the shed door as he had on the gate. Crouching for a few moments in the enclosure, he took turns rubbing down his pack. The spotlight cast a glow over man and dogs. He talked to them again, telling them to keep watch.

  Not sure if that comforted or concerned me.

  “Did you see anything out there?” I asked as soon as he entered the house. He locked the back door before he turned to face me.

  “Footprints in the woods that aren’t mine, and I assume you weren’t back there today.” He looked at me, waiting for confirmation.

  I shook my head. Who had been walking on Dale’s property?

  “Don’t worry, Alanna,” Dale said, ridding himself of his coat. “You witnessed what happens when the dogs sense someone is around who isn’t supposed to be. They’ll warn us, and there’s always this.” He crossed the kitchen and keyed in a code on the alarm panel beside the door to the garage. “If that fails, there’s also these.” He held up his fists, one cloaked in a cast spanning the majority of his forearm.

  “I suppose that cast could cause one hell of a bloody nose.”

  “I’m a deadly weapon.” Dale held his hands out to his sides.

  “Let’s fuel that deadly weapon, shall we?” I tugged him to the table.

  I doled out linguini and after he eased into his seat, Dale spent a full minute looking at his plate. The pupils of his eyes were huge, black pools, rimmed with a sliver of green. If I hadn’t been sitting all the way on the other side of the table I would have sworn he was gearing up for sex.

  “Dale?”

  His eyes shot up to mine. “What? What happened?”

  “I don’t know. You look dazed.” I stretched my legs out under the table and surrounded his ankles with my feet.

  “Oh…” He looked back to his plate and then to me again. “I never…no woman’s ever cooked like this for me. No woman I wasn’t related to.”

  If anyone qualified for the term doe-eyed, Dale did at that moment. I got a glimpse of what he must have looked like as a little boy.

  “Too bad it’s the only classy meal I know how to cook.” I sipped my wine and looked at Dale over the rim of my glass. “It’s all downhill from here.”

  “As someone who races, downhill is good.” He picked up his fork and took a bite.

  Downhill is good. Okay. That comforted me, because I’d been tumbling downhill, head-over-heels, since I’d met Dale.

  But what was waiting at the bottom of the hill?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Selia owned an enormous, colonial-style house that harkened back to another time. Four thick columns spanned from the ground to the roofline in the front of the house, and a wide pair of black doors welcomed guests beyond the front steps. Painted a tidy white and adorned with black shutters, the house looked well maintained and cozy at the same time.

  “I hope you’re ready for this.” Dale’s hand hovered before turning the knob on the front door.

  “I met them all already.” Gypsy and Zynk were on either side of me, like bodyguards.

  “Yeah, but they were on their best behavior,” Dale said. “Now we’re on their turf. Their true colors will spill out all over the place. It could get ugly.”

  “Afraid embarrassing stories might slip out?” I pecked Dale on the cheek. He caught me around the waist and tugged me against him. I almost dropped the pastry box I carried.

  “Downright terrified.” Dale’s kiss kindled a fire that had burned brightly since after dinner last night. Even if every firefighter in the nation came together, they couldn’t extinguish this blaze.

  Suddenly, the front door swung open, and I leaped away from Dale, leaving him hanging mid-kiss.

  “Micky!” Dale recovered far quicker than I was able to. He shot me a sly smile that said, “We’ll pick this up later.”

  I nodded dumbly. My lips still buzzed, but I managed to find my voice.

  “Hi, Mick.” I smoothed the front of my rumpled ski jacket to keep my free hand—one that had been all over Dale a moment ago—busy.

  “Alanna’s here,” Mick called over his shoulder as he reached out and pulled on my hand.

  “Hey, what about me?”

  “Sorry, Uncle Dale.” Mick giggled. “Uncle Dale is here too.”

  “That’s more like it.” Dale stepped inside and scooped Mick off his small feet.

  Mick hooted as Dale lifted the boy to his shoulder and carried him like a rag doll down a hallway. I stepped into the foyer, letting Gypsy and Zynk follow me until they shot to a corner of the hallway.

  “What’s got into them?” I asked.

  “Bora,” Mick shouted from his captive spot on Dale’s shoulder.

  “Gypsy, Zynk,” Dale said in a stern voice. The two dogs backed off to reveal a black and white kitten. “See. She’s all right.”

  “Save her, Alanna,” Mick pleaded.

  “Roger.” I knelt and scooped up the kitten. It rubbed against my fingers and purred. “You’re adorable. Why Bora?”

  “For aurora borealis.” Dale arched his brows as if to say, These crazy kids.

  As I cradled Bora’s warm little body against me, two cannonballs resembling Riley and Noah shot down the stairs. They threw their arms around a dog’s neck.

  “Hey, Ugly and Uglier,” Dale said to each of them.

  “Hey, Uncle Stale Dale,” Riley and Noah said back in unison.

  I laughed, and four pairs of eyes turned toward me. The three pairs of small, brown eyes laughed along with me. The one pair of sultry green, however, na
rrowed in mock disgust.

  “Let’s see…” Dale tapped his whiskered chin with his index finger. Mick still squirmed in his grip, but Dale didn’t let that distract him. “What rhymes with Alanna?”

  “Banana?” Riley offered. “If you say it funny.”

  “Banana,” Dale considered. “Banana Alanna. Yes, that’ll work, Riley. Good job, my boy. You’re my favorite for today.”

  “Banana Alanna! Banana Alanna!” Noah and Mick chanted. Dale and Riley joined in as they marched toward the kitchen.

  “What’s all this noise about?” Ram said from his seat at a round kitchen table.

  “Banana Alanna and Uncle Stale Dale are here, Pop.” Noah slipped his hand into mine after I let Bora jump to the floor.

  I looked down to him, and his brown eyes glinted at me. I gave his hand a little squeeze, and he snuggled against my leg.

  “Hey, you two.” Selia turned from her post at the stove. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her comfortable jogging suit, a soft peach color, fit her perfectly. She stepped over to Dale and planted a sisterly kiss on his cheek, then did the same to me. Jake, also in sweats, took our jackets, shook hands with Dale, and noticed the cast.

  “What the hel—” A dishtowel slapped into the back of his head, and he bit his lip. “Ouch. I mean, what the heck happened?”

  Dale let Mick slip off his shoulder while the boys all gathered around to inspect his cast.

  “Fractured.” Dale gave the same shrug he’d given me. His disgust at the news had worn off, though.

  I had tried my best last night to help him forget his wrist troubles. I did a mighty fine job of it too.

  “God dammit,” Ram hollered from his seat, groping at the pocket of his flannel shirt and extracting a pair of glasses.

  “Dad,” Selia scolded. “We’re keeping those words out of the boys’ vocabularies for as long as possible.”

  “Oh, a little swearing makes men of them.” Ram stood and donned the glasses to see Dale’s cast.

  “Dad, they’re five. Long way to go before they’re men and a longer way to go before they can cuss like men.” Selia shot Ram a fierce look, and he bent his head in apology.