“How? You gonna swim out after it? I hear you’re good at that.” Karl charged up the stairs but stopped at the top. “Sorry. I’m frustrated.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Dan was right behind him and not even short of breath from the climb. He rolled his eyes but pushed Karl toward the Jeep. “I get it, believe me.”
They spent the short ride in silence as Eider appeared to slip in around them and he pulled into the empty store parking lot.
Dan laughed. “Of course, here.” He dropped from the Jeep and waited just inside the shop holding the door for Karl.
Karl remembered he needed laundry detergent and went to get that and his regular candy-bar fix. “Ratchet, what’s the Wi-Fi password?”
“Eider up yours. All one word, no caps.” Ratchet rang Karl up but didn’t finish the transaction in case he thought of something else he wanted.
Dan had his phone out and started tapping away at a message. Karl scowled at the fond smile that lit up Dan’s face when he answered whatever came in reply to his text.
He definitely needed something else. “Be right back.”
Karl took his time as he went up and down the aisles, scanning the shelves full of things he had mostly memorized. Some items he’d seen since he started coming there, neat and tidy and left on the shelf, still stickered with their original price from years earlier. Other things he’d seen once, and once they sold out, they never returned. He stopped to inspect a never-sold otter figurine. Something about its expression and coloring reminded him of Dan, sleek after a swim and most content in the water. On a whim he tumbled the otter into his palm and decided to get it.
“This too.”
Ratchet picked up the otter, checked it over for nicks or dings, and carefully wrapped it in newspaper. “Nice. Been waiting on just the right person to realize they needed that.”
Dan had finished with his texting, but the smile lingered. Karl knew it was the guy who’d talked Dan through downloading files—files he still didn’t know anything about, even though he inferred they were involved in Axe’s disappearance. He hated wondering what that guy was to Dan. They talked like friends, but the smile Dan wore suggested more.
“Anything else?”
“Beer,” Karl grumbled.
Ratchet reached under the counter and thunked a six-pack onto it. He only carried one brand.
“Anything else else?”
Karl leaned against the countertop. “How far back do your postal records go?”
“Man, decades. I only gotta keep one-twenty days on most things, but I like being thorough.” Ratchet stroked his mustache. “But if you want anything old, good luck. I bundle and box those up and toss ’em in my storage area out back.”
“How about less than a year ago?”
“How about you’re in luck. Just a sec.” Ratchet walked along the counter to the post office area, exited by lifting the dropdown cover on the pass-through, and tugged a metal drawer from the post office shelves. He left it open and returned. “Seeing as I’m postmaster general, I should have you write down the details and look, but, seeing as I’m postmaster general, I’m just gonna let you do it.”
“Works for me.” Karl squatted by the drawer and flicked through the dated file tabs. Satisfaction burst through him when he found what he wanted, and he took a picture of the address with his phone. “Do I need to verify I did that or anything?”
“I think that, as we’re both officers representing the United States and have her best interests at heart, we can agree you won’t use it for any nefarious purpose.” Ratchet raised an eyebrow.
“Absolutely agreed.” Karl stood and kicked the drawer closed. He looked at Dan. “You need anything before I pay?”
Dan grabbed a bag of chips, a bar of the locally made mint-and-spice soap that Karl had told him to stop stealing from his own kit, and a trail map the state provided.
“That all, then?” Ratchet poised a finger over his ancient cash register.
Karl checked with Dan and then nodded at Ratchet. The big round buttons made the best cha-chunk noises as Ratchet poked at them. Then he spun a big handle to the side, and the cash drawer shot all the way out. Ratchet caught it with an effortless ease honed by years of practice, slotted it back into place, and slammed it shut.
The receipt would be clipped to Karl’s tab.
Ratchet started to bag his purchases, and Dan tapped the countertop, fiddled with his sleeve, and then took a breath. Karl waited for whatever Dan wanted to ask for or say—fidgeting in that context was another sure tell Dan was gathering his thoughts and maybe his nerves.
“One more thing.”
“Got new crampons in this week. You’ll be wanting some for winter.” Ratchet pointed at the endcap behind Dan where they hung. “And your bunny boots will be in soon.”
“Yeah, I’ll get some next time.” Dan rubbed his thumb against his forefinger.
“Not crampons, then.” Ratchet slid the paper sack of their things over to Karl.
“No, not crampons. But good about the boots.” Dan flattened his hand on the counter and held Ratchet’s eye. “I’m wondering if you know someone by the name of Grady. Works at Faithstone Lumber.”
“I do. Not enough to write a biography, but I could add a few pages.” Ratchet narrowed his eyes, and his long, bristly eyebrows crouched down like angry caterpillars. “You have a run-in with him?”
Karl didn’t like Ratchet’s tone or question, because it was clear Ratchet didn’t like Grady. He recognized the name but didn’t know Grady worked at the mill where they dropped Dan after the rescue when the winch blew out. Ratchet threw him a look, and he shrugged. He didn’t know why Dan asked or anything about Grady other than that slim connection.
Dan opened his hands. “Not really a run-in, but he said a few weird things and acted a little squirrely. I couldn’t tell if I made him nervous—maybe dropping into his workplace from a chopper that’s billowing black smoke does that—or that’s just how he is.”
“He’s definitely squirrely. He moved up from the Forties years ago but never lived in or around Eider, glad to say. He got into a scratch immediately, been trouble ever since.” Ratchet gruffed. “I’m following now. You met him after your emergency landing at the mill, didn’t you? He mess with you?”
“I did, and no, not really. Like I said, he just struck me as a little off.”
“He is—on and off drugs for the years he’s been here.” Ratchet crossed his beefy arms with a frown. “Didn’t ever find it worth minding people enjoying weed here and there, but everything else just leads to trouble in my experience. Grady never stuck with just weed.”
“Is he on it these days?” Karl met Ratchet’s curious eye. “I’m asking for a reason, yes.”
Ratchet took that in. “I hear on the air, someone’s trying to move a lot of meth and have been for a while. But there’s a problem.”
Karl blinked and waited. “And?”
“Oh, I figured you knew. Kinda common knowledge around here. Bottom dropped out of meth when opioids moved in. I’m guessing whoever’s trying to make good on that meth can’t find a buyer or a buyer willing to pay high enough to suit them.”
Karl guessed the “for a while” timing coincided neatly with Swift’s cabin being suddenly abandoned. “Is Grady trying to make good on it?”
“Can’t say for sure. But it’d be a square bet he’s either involved somehow or would know who is.” Ratchet pursed his lips. “Nasty business. Hear it said he’s going out of town two days after next. Didn’t hear why. Sorry I don’t know more to help you, but glad I ain’t involved to say.”
Dan made a musing sound, but his shoulders tightened, and he avoided Karl’s glance. “He said he knew the man I replaced.”
“You mean Neal?”
Dan slowly drew his hand into a fist and nodded. Karl laid a light hand at the small of Dan’s back, and Dan leaned into his touch and nodded. Karl made himself withdraw.
“God rest him.” Ratchet closed his ey
es a beat. “Didn’t know him well—not like your buddy Karl here. Never knew him to be chasing the same kinda trouble Grady has, but he did once ask if I knew anywhere around here to gamble—just the ‘blowing off steam, have fun’ kind. Of course I said I don’t, seeing as gambling isn’t legal in Alaska.” He winked. “Unless you really like bingo.”
“Do you?”
Ratchet considered Dan’s question. “Once I played bingo, and near the end of the night, the emcee calls a game only for people who haven’t won. Of the two of us, I lost. Twice. Not a big fan.”
Karl barked a surprised laugh. Dan seemed on the verge of another question when Ratchet’s scanner and Karl and Dan’s radios all went off simultaneously.
Dan grabbed their bag and headed for the door. “Appreciate the info. Who do I owe for my share of this?”
Ratchet looked at Karl who waved a hand. “We’ll work it out. Definitely thanks.” He waggled his phone for emphasis and followed Dan out.
“You keep not dead!” Ratchet called over the jingling bells on the door and blaring rescue alerts.
“Let me have your phone.”
Karl handed it to Dan without hesitation and climbed into the Jeep.
“Gonna send that address along to someone.”
“Sure,” he said, not really listening.
Karl jammed the Jeep into gear and sped to the station. He knew the roads without having to pay attention and took curves too fast, gunning the straightaways to shave precious seconds from their travel time. As they approached the station, one of the choppers lifted up and angled hard to the east.
He parked by the door, and they ran inside.
Chapter Nine
KARL went right to control. With the other team gone, they’d missed the briefing, but he could find out what was happening pretty quickly from there. Jameson had command of the situation and coordinated the helicopter and one of their boats.
“Missing kids.” Bennett spoke low in Karl’s ear under the hum of activity.
“Fuck.” Karl hated when a situation involved kids. They all did. “What else?”
Dan slid in beside him, and he made room.
“We got a call from local. A family was on a hike, and there was a landslide or cave-in. The father thinks the kids wound up in the water.”
Karl studied the maps Jameson had pulled down, and dread filled him. “The Qaqa?”
Bennett’s grim expression and slow nod told him everything. The east Qaqa cliffs were the highest elevation along the coast, their slope covered in a maze of trails cut by erosion, made more treacherous by caves honeycombed beneath them.
“Get me out there.” Karl pinned Jameson with a look. “Don’t shake your head at me. Get me out there so I can help.”
“Your bird’s still grounded, Radin. Two teams are already en route.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m grounded. I can—” He turned when Dan tapped him and nodded. “We can do a ground search.”
Jameson wasn’t convinced, but Curtis straightened from one of the consoles. Karl raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t typical for Curtis to hover or oversee during a mission, but losing kids had that effect. Karl could feel the seconds ticking by as their window of rescue rapidly narrowed.
“Sir?”
Curtis crossed his arms and considered it. After a minute he waved a go-on hand.
Karl moved before anyone could change their mind.
“You’re hauling safety and rescue equipment but not taking unnecessary risks—either of you. Call in for backup if you find anything. Got me?”
“Yes, sir,” he and Dan said in unison.
“Good luck.” Jameson spared a nod and went back to work.
“Thanks,” Karl called, no hard feelings, and hurried down to their room.
They changed into rugged gear and loaded packs with essentials and ran to the locker room for the rest in near tandem. Karl double-checked his load while Dan did the same. Their eyes met.
“Are you okay?”
“Five-by,” Dan answered automatically.
“I don’t mean for this mission. I mean in here.” Karl tapped Dan’s forehead and then Dan’s chest. “You’ve had a lot to take in in the past few days. Really since getting here. You gonna be okay out there with all this going on?”
Dan straightened. “I won’t be distracted or let you down.”
“That’s not what I mean either. Shit.” Karl grabbed hold of Dan’s arms and gave him a shake. “I’m checking on you, Dan—just you.”
A vulnerable kid who’d gone through so much was the last thing he expected when Curtis slapped Dan’s file in front of him. But even before he heard everything Dan told him since then, Karl had inklings that a lot more was going on behind Dan’s fun-loving front. Now he couldn’t stand the idea of leading them into danger without first being sure Dan’s heart and head were okay.
Dan didn’t quite smile, but a light came on in his eyes. He tilted his head, leaned in close, and kissed Karl lightly—fleetingly—almost like it didn’t happen.
“I’m okay.”
Karl barely heard the words, but the tone resonated all through him. Dan drew back before Karl could tug him in for more or get a sense of what the kiss meant, aside from reassurance and Dan’s pleased incandescence at his demanding concern. He understood the feeling. Dan’s simple kiss had him seeing hazy pink-white and made his pulse hammer.
He was left standing in the locker room and had to force his brain and body into gear. Dan waited for him by the station’s main door.
“Right.”
Dan nodded. “Right.”
They went outside and surveyed the coming weather to the west. It would definitely make landfall, and they didn’t have a lot of time.
“Let’s take my ATV. It’s still here from before. The station has one, but I know and like mine better.”
“Works for me. Just a sec.” Dan rummaged for something from the Jeep, shoved a few items into his pack, shouldered it, and trotted to the hangar.
Karl matched his step. He got on the ATV and into his helmet, and Dan climbed behind him. He revved the engine and headed overland while Dan radioed their departure, specs, and direction. Karl’s blood fired, but he was calm with purpose and couldn’t imagine anyone other than Dan having his back. The boat, the drugs, that whole mess fell from his mind, and he focused on the task at hand. He trusted Dan to do the same.
He took the road as far as he could, followed the fork going east and away from Eider, and they started to climb. The blunt cliffs jutted abruptly into the ocean from a smooth landscape like a bone or branch snapped from a main limb. The ATV bounced and juddered when he veered from the gravel road, and he slowed down so they could scan the area.
The Guard helicopter had swept the cliffs twice and reported nothing unusual. It was as thorough a first search as could be made, and it would waste time to drive the same area. Karl parked the ATV, and Dan got off and stowed his helmet without prompting. They went over their gear, and Karl shoved a knit cap on Dan’s head. Then they headed to the main trail.
“That storm is almost here.” Dan walked two steps behind Karl, close enough to aid if anything went awry, but far enough back to save himself if the ground decided to eat Karl up.
“It is—good tracking.”
“Hah, not exactly difficult at this point.”
Karl called their position, and they bounced info from the bird, the boat, and back.
Dan bellied onto a tall, flat boulder and looked around with his binoculars. “What about the father who called it in? Was there a mom or another sibling involved?”
“We’ve been trying to get back in contact with the father. Called himself Jim, and that was all we had. Haven’t hailed him since the initial call-in.” Jameson did a time check. “Team One, any sign?”
“Negative.” That was Ogden, piloting the chopper. “Trask here thinks he caught flashes of color in the rocks, but we haven’t been able to pin them down.”
Karl waved his arms. “R
elative to us where?”
“Continue east, several yards. Where those boulders block the main erosion area and split it into three.”
“Thanks, Trask. If you can, keep eyes on us and let me know if we get near what you spotted.”
“Copy that.”
“Team Two?” Jameson again.
King grunted. “You’ll be the first to find out. We’re on our third pass of the shoreline and haven’t seen anything, not even signs of disturbance in the water from a recent slide or something.”
“I got nothing.” Dan handed Karl the binocs. “Seems odd for anyone to bail on kids who’re purported to have gone over into the water, let alone their father.”
“Incredibly.” Karl swept the same visual pattern Dan had and then reversed it. Something in the middle distance—maybe red, definitely not natural—caught his eye. His nerves skittered, and the hair at the back of his neck stood up. “I got a bad feeling about this.”
“Yeah.” Dan hopped down from the boulder. “Let’s stick to the topmost trail best we can. I can tell from the terrain that it’d be useless to climb out of here to search from the edge, but I don’t want to get too far under all that rock above us.”
Karl nodded. “That’s the way of it—and agreed.”
They made slow and steady progress, and Karl kept the scrap of red in his sights as clearly as he could.
“You getting that, Trask?” He called out the location. “Reddish, looks like tent nylon or something. I can’t tell if it’s caught in the rocks or what.”
“That might be what I saw when we first got here. It’s in the same general area.”
“Great. We’re heading for it.” Karl stepped carefully but hit a patch of moss, and his foot shot out from under him.
With a strong grip, Dan steadied his arm and hauled him back onto the trail before he could blink.
“Whoa, I gotcha.”
Dan kept hold of Karl even after he got his balance. The path was just wide enough to accommodate that. Persistent moisture from the ocean dampened the ground and created a constant drip from the overhanging tiers of rock. Karl slowed them even more.
Staggered Cove Station Page 12