Ivy didn’t look safe now. She glanced between both Sean and Helena. “Are you sure you can take care of Dylan?”
Helena sat in a squat next to Dylan and Grace. Luna had decided to take a snooze herself in the far corner of the room. “I’ve recently had experience with babies—well, one baby. My sister’s. Go rest, Ivy. Between the two of us, we’ll prep some dinner, and then we can reevaluate.”
Sean looked into her eyes. “Please let us know if you need to go back to the hospital.” Her shoulders sagged, and she nodded. There appeared to be four bedrooms. Three had queen beds and one had four bunk beds, so he suggested Ivy take the middle queen. That way Sean would stay closest to the front entrance and Helena would be closest to the emergency exit, which turned out to be a ladder leading to the top of the hill that the bunker was burrowed inside.
After seeing Ivy settled, Sean searched through the pantry. Helena found what appeared to be a trapdoor, labeled as Frozen Foods in the kitchen floor. They twisted the hydraulic lock open and lifted the heavily insulated panel to reveal a chest freezer, half buried. The permafrost nestled around the freezer in layers. Inside the chest, an assortment of frozen meats and vegetables were rock-hard.
Sean selected a package of ground beef and offered to cook dinner while his teammate took the first round of playing with Dylan. Mostly that involved making sure the eager toddler didn’t get too rowdy with the dogs. It was amazing how much strength those little fingers could have when they locked down on something. As he browned the meat for dinner, he was reminded of all the little ones he’d interacted with over the last few months with the team.
His mind threatened to question every decision in the past, so he focused harder on the frozen beef. Amazing that the permafrost could work in a survivalist’s favor here. Granted, most survivalists probably didn’t have the luxury of such an upscale bunker.
The permafrost intrigued him. Even though there was grass and sage brush on the top layer outside, permafrost was frozen ground. Any type of frozen earth, whether soil or sediment or rock, all bound together as ice could make up permafrost. Near Anchorage, permafrost could be found, but only in isolated patches. In the Arctic, it was likely to be everywhere. Grace had worked in avalanches, but he couldn’t recall a case with permafrost. She should still be able to detect through it. From what he could tell, the stuff looked rock-hard. How would that affect where the victim’s body could be buried...?
“I’m feeling much better,” Ivy said. She stepped into the kitchen, now dressed in light pink sweatpants and a sweatshirt that read Parenting Style: Survivalist.
“Nice sweatshirt.”
She cringed. “I thought it was funnier before we actually headed over to the bunker. You were right, though. I just needed a few minutes to close my eyes. Smells delicious.”
“Dinner’s almost ready.” He just about flinched. It sounded too natural to be in the kitchen together.
She didn’t seem bothered. She picked up Dylan and nuzzled his nose. “Any new developments?” she asked in a singsong way as she grinned.
Sean stilled, wooden spoon in hand. It was like seeing a distorted version of the dream life they’d spent hours imagining in those early months of marriage. He loved seeing her smile like that, in her element as a mother, loving on their boy. Their boy? He poured a can of crushed tomatoes in the skillet and stirred faster. Sauce splashed on his hand. He took a deep breath. He had no right to even think such a thing. Maybe he also needed a nap.
“Sean filled me in on what Minnie said when you showed her the victim’s photograph,” Helena said. “We’ll go interview the dredge companies in operation tomorrow. Starting with the ones that parked in that lot.”
Ivy nodded slowly. “That’s good, but Minnie was right that I should go with you. People get touchy when you start asking too many questions about their gold operations. I know some of the employees already. Seasonal workers—usually new to the job and the area—can’t afford to get a place to live, so they pick up gear at the mission until they make enough money to afford housing. The majority end up going back home.” She sighed. “But I don’t know if Minnie will be willing to watch Dylan again after what happened today.” Her lighthearted tone turned somber. “Especially with how I reacted...”
“She will,” Helena said. “I spoke to her on the phone while I was waiting for you to pick up the unmarked cars at the trooper post. And we have a uniformed officer willing to guard her friend’s house again while she watches him.”
Ivy shook her head. “She’s a true friend. I don’t deserve her.”
“You didn’t deserve to be kidnapped or targeted, either.” Sean was struggling to keep his own thoughts positive, as well. The dredge operator interviews had potential, but the colonel made it clear his first priority was finding the victim’s body. After their time near the shack, he was feeling hopeless on where to even start. But right now, he had a meal to put on the table. Sean used a fork to check the tenderness of the spaghetti noodles. “Dinner is ready.”
Eating spaghetti with a thirteen-month-old proved a training exercise for Grace and Luna since the food was flung to all four corners of the bunker. The K-9 partners weren’t allowed to eat on duty and were only allowed to enjoy their special food. Helena finished first and took care of their meals and a quick walk outside while Sean cleaned the kitchen. Ivy wiped up the considerable mess on Dylan and the walls. He began to fuss and whine.
“Did he even eat anything?”
She put her hands on her hips and studied him for a second. “If only food by osmosis worked.” She laughed and their eyes connected. The warmth in his gut sobered him immediately. He turned back to find something else to clean. Except Dylan’s fussing turned into full-on crying. Ivy offered him his favorite foods from the diaper bag and there was no interest. The dogs came back inside, but not even their appearance stopped his crying.
“I’m sorry,” Ivy said over the noise, pacing with him in her arms. “Sometimes he does this. It’s usually when he’s overtired. And everything has been different the past two days. No routine. I don’t think he had his full nap time today.”
Grace moved to Sean’s pack and placed her nose on the side pocket. His partner always surprised him with her intuition. “Good idea, girl.” He hadn’t intended to train Grace to perform whenever a child was unhappy, but after the past few months, they had performed for quite a few unhappy little ones while working cases.
“Uh-oh, I think this is my cue to get my earplugs and go to bed,” Helena said. She grabbed her pack. “No offense, Sean. Come on, Luna. I’m not sure you’ll appreciate this, either.”
“Everyone’s a critic,” Sean said, causing Ivy to raise her eyebrows. “Grace and I have been alone a lot—often somewhere remote—and we sort of picked up a new hobby.” He pulled out the harmonica.
Ivy’s mouth dropped. “You learned to play?”
“That’s debatable,” Helena called out with a chuckle. She disappeared into her room and closed the door.
“You’re not my target audience,” Sean told Helena. He glanced down at Grace. “Ready? Here goes nothing.” He took a deep breath and began to play the only song he really knew. The notes to “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” amplified in the bunker as Grace howled along. She lifted her nose to the sky and managed to look as if she were crooning the notes. Dylan silenced midcry, staring at them both, wet cheeks and all. His little lip quivered, and then the smallest of smiles appeared.
Sean took a step back and stood with his legs apart, Grace’s cue for the next part of the routine. The dog darted in between his legs and around in a figure eight while singing. Then it was Grace’s turn to stand still while Sean marched around her. He tried to focus on only Dylan, but couldn’t help but enjoy the way Ivy leaned back and watched him. By the time they reached the long final note, the toddler was giggling and clapping.
“Shall I play the ‘ABCs’ no
w?” Sean asked. “Or how about ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’?”
Ivy tilted her head, her eyes glistening. For a small second, he felt like her hero again and not the one who had caused her pain. “Don’t those all have the same melody?” she asked.
He raised his hands. “Busted. We only know one song. Grace does the singing and dancing, and I provide backup.”
Dylan yawned and rubbed his eyes. In a swift motion, Ivy offered him a blanket and slipped away to put him to sleep for the night. She returned in five minutes, beaming. “That was better than any bedtime story I could’ve told him. Thank you, Sean.”
“You’re welcome.” He sat on the couch, reorganizing and repacking the contents of his pack. Even though the mood was much lighter between them now, he still hated how they’d left their last conversation about Dylan.
Sean blew out a breath. He needed to ask her a question but didn’t want to cause any more emotional upheaval in one day. Still, it had to be asked before they called it a night. “I need to know everyone who knows this location.”
“My parents, the social worker, and now you and Helena.”
His eyebrows rose. “And that’s all? You haven’t talked about it with anyone else?”
Ivy leaned back into the couch cushion and reached up to dim the light coming from the faux window above her. “They’re the only ones that know the actual location and have been here. I mean, Minnie knows of the bunker.” Her eyes widened. “And I guess my friend Marcella knows.”
“Marcella?” It took him a moment to remember Ivy’s friend. “The one that still lives in Fairbanks?” He knew it’d been hard on Ivy to live so far from her good friend.
“You remembered. She actually owns the mission. When she heard we’d...” Ivy hesitated. “...divorced,” she continued, in a softer tone, “well, she knew I was planning to live in the bunker. She offered me the job. She visits in the summer and during the Iditarod, and I’m happy to share the apartment during those times.”
Sean walked to the front door and checked the security panel. It was reassuring that her parents had made safety a priority. In addition to the armed security system, there was a perimeter alarm engaged and a gun case. He hesitated. “You really haven’t talked about this place to anyone else?” He turned to face her. “Just in passing, even? A date, maybe?”
Her eyes widened and she quickly looked down at her clasped hands. “No.”
“Is there anyone in Nome that might be wondering why you’ve dropped off the grid?”
Her lips curled up. “Are you still asking me because of the case, or is this conversation of a more personal nature?”
“What if it’s a little of both?”
“I haven’t been seeing anyone. Is...uh...anyone waiting for you to get back to Anchorage?”
He hated that her asking pleased him so much. “No.”
An awkward silence hung in the air before she smiled. “I think I better get as much rest as I can before Dylan wakes up.”
“Okay. Only one more question. Does the social worker know you’re here right now?”
She pulled her knees up to her chest on the couch and wrapped her arms around them. “I used the burner phone Helena gave me and called her at the trooper post while you were installing Dylan’s car seat in the SUV. She said as long as you were offering us protection, there shouldn’t be a problem, but—” her voice cracked “—I’m still only a foster mom, so I can’t really make a decision to run away with him. Even if it is for his own safety. I’m a realist. I know if that man isn’t caught soon, you’ll get called back—”
The pain in her voice was like a vise grip on his heart. “Ivy, I promise you I’m not leaving until that man is behind bars.”
“Don’t. I’m not holding you to that.” She stood and offered him a sad smile. “We’ve been down the road of promises we couldn’t keep. Let’s not do that to ourselves again. Good night, Sean.”
His breath caught, taken off guard that a simple good-night punched him in the gut with the same intensity as the moment he’d signed the divorce papers.
* * *
Ivy slid out from under the quilt with regret. The bunker never got hot, despite the heater running. She blamed the permafrost just underneath the flooring, which also was heated. Dylan’s outstretched arms warmed her, though. She hesitated at the threshold. She needed Sean, yet she bristled anytime he came to her rescue. Once he got the guy, he’d be leaving. If she let her guard down, it would be harder to patch her heart up for the second time.
Shoulders back and head on straight, she stepped into the kitchen to find Helena hard at work, making waffles. The smell of maple, sugar and coffee brewing could almost fool her into believing everyone was gathered for fun. They worked around each other as Ivy prepped Dylan’s oatmeal. Sean joined them just as they sat down at the table, though Ivy found it hard to sit so close to him. It was too much of a reminder of all the times they’d shared breakfast together in years past.
She felt Helena’s stare before finally looking up. The trooper was alternating her stare between Ivy and Sean. “Did I miss anything last night?” she asked.
“Nope,” Sean said, a little too quickly to sound normal. Ivy shrugged, unsure of what to say.
Helena raised her left eyebrow. “Okay, then. I’m curious about this survivalist lifestyle. Did you really grow up like this?”
She got the question often in her line of work. And there was no textbook answer for what she found they really wanted to know. “There are different types of survivalists. The type often depends on the motivation that inspired the change of lifestyle. For instance, my dad was a hedge fund manager who missed country life and my mom was an anthropology professor who wanted to be a homesteader. We lived in New York, and when there was a bombing, they suddenly believed moving out here would be the only way we’d survive. They cashed out their retirement savings and we made our way to Alaska. When things calmed down, they decided they liked living in the middle of nowhere. After my sisters and brother left for college, they decided to go back to the lower forty-eight and build up their retirement again.” Ivy gestured at their surroundings. “They vacation here every summer, though.”
“Did all your siblings stay in Alaska?”
“Spread out, but yes. Aside from the mosquito swarms, we love it here. Other survivalists are motivated by staying off the grid, distrustful of government. Some just have a love of living off the land, and then you have those who are running away from something. Like that missing-bride case you mentioned.”
For the first time, it struck her that her parents really fell into the category of running away from something. They’d always focused on how they wanted to try living off the land anyway, but the reason they had was because they were fleeing from potential danger. Wasn’t that her first instinct whenever trouble came her way, too?
She’d been a hypocrite. The thought smacked her fully awake. She’d been angry with Sean for letting fear have the deciding vote in their marriage, yet she let fear rule her heart plenty of times. She didn’t want to disregard wisdom, though. Getting enough distance from the issues to figure out which was which proved almost impossible. She lifted up a silent prayer. I need Your help.
Helena pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Sean mentioned you were a survivalist instructor but didn’t want to raise Dylan the same way. Is hiding here hard for you?”
His neck turned red, a sure indication that he was worried Ivy wouldn’t be pleased he’d shared that tidbit. “Well, Sean isn’t wrong, but I wouldn’t mind bringing Dylan here under different circumstances. I suppose that may seem contradictory, given my line of work. I still think they’re useful skills, but the isolation and some of the hardships I experienced seemed unnecessary. A lot of benefits came from it, too.”
Ivy gestured at the glowing images of the tundra on the walls. “You have to appreciate your surroundings wherever
you are in order to stay alive. A certain amount of flexibility is required. Thinking outside of the box. And I love the quiet of nature.”
She sighed, remembering the constant hum of traffic in Anchorage that set her teeth on edge. “In college, I discovered I enjoyed teaching those skills to others. There’s something about being in nature. It’s much easier to believe that God’s in control and I’m not when I’m out there. And a little overwhelming to realize that such beauty was all created for more than our survival but also our pleasure.” Ivy cradled her coffee mug. She’d gotten carried away and probably had said too much. “Anyway, I worked for the college fitness center, taking students on weekend adventure trips in the area. I loved it so much I took a job as a survival instructor after graduation.”
“And that’s how I met you.” Sean beamed at her as if he were proud. The expression caught her off guard. “I knew I’d be in all sorts of remote areas as a trooper and wanted to be sure I had what it takes.”
The memories of that week hit her in the gut. She had to tone down the emotions and keep the conversation professional. “That’s right. You were an excellent student. Ever had to do a waterfall jump as a trooper?”
His eyes twinkled as he leaned forward on his elbows. “Can’t say that I have.”
Heat filled her cheeks. She shouldn’t have alluded to that afternoon. Shortly after that practice jump, he’d kissed her behind the waterfall. What a first kiss!
Ivy stood and moved to attend Dylan, except he was perfectly content for once. She stood there, unsure of how to busy herself, her cheeks on fire.
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