“What are you doing?” she snapped. It wasn’t the kind of greeting Meghan expected. Sometimes when people had a little time between conversations, they rehearsed, or they changed the tone. Dana failed to rely on the inner voice that told her to relax.
“We’re waiting for Christine to resurface.” It was a statement that Meghan would later come to regret saying.
“Why aren’t you out there looking for that poor little girl?” Dana wore a heavy winter coat, but the gloves on her hands were nylon knit. The kind that looks cute but wasn’t functional. She stood in her thin boots, shivering.
Meghan got up and poured Dana a cup of coffee. She slid the mug across the table. Dana walked to the large conference table and picked up the mug. Meghan grabbed the box of facial tissue for Dana. Her red, wind-burnt nose started to run since she got into the warmth again.
“Look, things are a little different here.” She lifted her hands, speaking to Dana. “I need for you to chill out—poor choice of words. Christine’s mom isn’t freaking out. We’ve covered all the angles. The only one going crazy here is you. I’ve heard a few reports about how you tried to sequester everyone who attended the event tonight.”
“You’re doing nothing. You’re sitting in here drinking coffee and chatting like it’s no big deal,” Dana said. She sniffled and blew her nose in the facial tissue.
Lester stood up, moved around her like the volatile woman readied to explode. He and Oliver slipped around the archway, hiding from Dana’s view at the front counter. Dana watched them depart like she felt they weren’t worthy of her presence.
“I contacted Sergio Wilcox. I talked to Garret, too,” Dana said. “I thought he should know.”
“What are you talking about?” Who is Sergio Wilcox? And why did you call Garret?”
Garret McKee was a career administrator at the Syracuse field office. He was the man Dana answered to directly. Once upon a time, he was Meghan’s supervisor. He was a firm and fair kind of guy who had a level head and was a sight ton better in a critical situation than his subordinate.
“Special Agent Wilcox is the field supervisor out of Anchorage.”
“No, no, no, Dana, you are way out of line, you cannot be serious. We’re handling this—”
“You’re not handling anything, Meghan. You’re here in the warm office while there is a little girl out there, probably raped or dead, or both.”
“I get that you jump right to the worst. But we don’t have anything suspicious. Joane Tuktu and Earl Garret are dealing with this a lot better than you.”
“At least I’m doing something, not sitting on my ass drinking coffee and chatting with my friends.”
It came out like an accusation from a supervisor to a subordinate. Meghan had to wait to speak again. The paradigm shift meant to make Meghan feel insignificant.
“What do you suppose we do now? Everyone in town is asleep. The few people, who are still awake, besides us, are the mayor and his wife. Joane and Earl have our numbers. You put on a hell of a show at the gym. I’ll bet we have a nice little article that will show up in the paper. Not to mention the buzz you started in town.”
“I don’t care what they say about me. A child is missing. You of all people should feel something—oh, wait, never mind, you ran off from being a mother.”
It hit Meghan like a sledgehammer to the guts. She stood up but somehow managed to keep her mouth shut. It helped that she went cold and dry in the throat. Dana had something to prove. She had something to make of herself; Meghan wasn’t interested in the woman’s outrageous and unfounded claims. Instead of saying anything she’d regret later, Meghan took her coffee and walked around Dana, still shivering and standing in the center of the situation room.
Meghan went into her office and squeezed her fist. It helped sway her from slamming the door on Dana’s face.
“I want you to know that I am taking over operations here. I’ve mobilized Wilcox’s team. We’re expecting a team of cadets and junior agents to fly in first thing on the earliest commercial flight.”
“Did you clear all that with the Alaska State Troopers?”
“Wilcox said he’d take care of the meet and greet.”
“Dana, you are making a big mistake here. You’re going to burn up a lot of labor hours for a child who at the moment isn’t under any harm—”
“What are you talking about? The little girl is missing, Meg. That should get your blood boiling.” Dana stopped talking for a few hammering heartbeats in Meghan’s ears. She shook her head, furrowing those razor-thin eyebrows. “What happened to you? You used to care. You used to want to help people. All I see now is a woman growing fat on a city paycheck and a government retirement pension.”
Meghan ignored Oliver standing behind Dana. He had an incredulous look on his face.
“Dana. I am not going to tell you again. I want you to listen carefully. Whatever you plan to do, whatever happens from this point forward, you are on your own. You coordinate with whoever you want, but I do not answer to you. I answer to the troopers. I will do my due diligence, and Christine will probably show up first thing in the morning. You think calling out the FBI field office is proactive; it’s a preemptive logistics nightmare. If you worked with me, you’d see we’re doing exactly the necessary steps we need to find the girl. You’re taking it way out of proportion.”
“All I see right now is a woman too lazy to do anything.”
“Dana, you can try to provoke me all you want. You have something going on with you, not me, and if you think this is the way to prove something to yourself, you are not going to like the outcome.”
“You’re afraid of something. Maybe it has to do with you getting shot. You gave up after that. I don’t know, and I read a lot of people experience PTSD when they face life-threatening encounters. I don’t think you need to worry about what happened to you. You need to worry about what could happen to the girl because you failed to act accordingly.”
Dana appeared haughty, her self-righteousness elevating her to a place in her mind that rose above the cold she felt during the short walk from Meghan’s house to the police department.
“I’ll leave you to your little world, and you can hide behind your little desk. This is my show, Sheppard, and you might want to pay attention.”
Dana walked out of Meghan’s private office. She closed the door behind her with a gentle touch. Meghan heard Dana begin giving orders to Oliver and Lester. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When Meghan heard something drop on the desk blotter, when she looked down, it surprised her to see the tears fell like rain.
Chapter Nine
The Amber Alert originated out of Kinguyakkii a little after midnight. Meghan followed up with social media posts and current photos of Christine Tuktu. The description of her last known location, and the outfit she wore at the time of the Memorial celebration. According to Joane, Christine had an oversized red winter coat from an online retailer. It wasn’t the heaviest or best kind of jacket for the environment, but it was all she could afford. Earl supplied a picture of the winter coat from the online retail store. Meghan added it to social media posts. She spent hours at her desk, scanning pages of people who were still awake and trending the Amber Alert.
Lester and Oliver checked all the locations they remember where children liked to congregate. Lester took the snowmachine out to tent city and checked in with the transient locals. Many people who couldn’t afford a hotel room, but wanted to share the Memorial Day weekend events, spent their nights in the sprawling dunes and muck north of the city along the shoreline. Lester confiscated two plastic bottles of whiskey and issued a summons for court appearances.
For the first time since taking the job, Meghan wanted out. Elected officials like sheriffs, didn’t like the negative publicity that came with a missing child case. If it went wrong, no one recovered. With the disappearance of Christine Tuktu, Meghan had no grounded suspects, and Joane worried but didn’t point fingers.
Oliver
cleaned out the supplies in the Suburban. They needed the extra space because Meghan appointed him designated driver for the Alaska State Troopers and the FBI agents when they showed up.
After five in the morning, two Piper Super Cubs with AST liveries arrived at the airport. Oliver chauffeured two rounds of Alaska State Troopers from the airstrip to the office. Among the unfamiliar faces Meghan greeted, she saw Riley Winters. He gave Meghan a big bear hug without considering what it looked like to the other strangers around them.
Riley Winters, selected and trained by Meghan, went on to become a trooper recruit. He still had months left on his field supervision, but Meghan knew Riley was the right candidate for the rural posts. Trooper Sergeant Emanuel Reeve likely selected Riley for inclusion because he was someone from the community. Born and raised in and around Kinguyakkii, people knew Riley. He had a winning personality and was an earnest young man. He didn’t care about the professional discourse because Meghan played a mentor to him, and he knew without her guidance, he wouldn’t be in the career.
Reeve was a man without humor and had a grudge against Meghan. It was a professional displacement between them, and Meghan didn’t take it personally. Trooper pilot Clayton Chandler once explained why Reeve gave Meghan the cold-shoulder in a place where everyone needed a little courtesy and warmth. It had to do with her jumping the shark with violent crimes in Kinguyakkii. Chandler was an impressively tall African American man who wore the uniform in a way that made others cheap by comparison. Chandler transported the majority of prisoners from Kinguyakkii to Anchorage for the police. She got to know him relatively well over the years.
He was devoted to his career, his family, and flying. The pilot license came after his career choice as a trooper. Once he qualified to fly as a state official, his career blossomed. He held sergeant rank with the troopers but wasn’t one to point out the obvious. His insightfulness to Reeve’s issues with Meghan meant Reeve was the first contact when it came to violent crimes. Instead, Meghan had a direct line with the Anchorage-based trooper detectives. Gregory Anderson was her point of contact, and it worked out well so far for both of them. Reeve, on the other hand, the person who needed to know, usually found out after the fact. In his eyes, as Meghan saw it, boots on the ground early Sunday morning following the missing child, was a step up in communication.
Meghan waited until after six before she called Shelley Bass. As the mayor’s assistant, she knew the location of everything in City Hall. Shelley gave Meghan a collection of outdated survey and zoning maps for the city. Meghan knew what to expect before the federal agents arrived. Meghan returned to the police station, letting Shelley go home again. She tossed the city maps on the table and ignored her friend. Dana took the sheets immediately and spread them across the conference table, making it look like it was her idea.
While Dana introduced herself to the six Alaska State Troopers, Meghan retreated to the private office. Out of the way, feeling a little dejected, Meghan scanned the social media posts for the Amber Alert. Lester and Oliver took any available calls coming into the department. At seven in the morning, very few people in town called or texted or sent posts about Christine.
When the first commercial jet arrived at seven-thirty, Reeve had his troopers waiting on the ground to greet the arrivals. Meghan stayed at the office and out of the way. The FBI team included eight senior cadets on loan from the academy and two upper echelons from the Anchorage field office. Overstepping the Alaska State Troopers put Dana and Meghan in a precarious situation. Meghan understood the logistics to Activate the Amber Alert. Reeve got the alert and was the acting point man on the case, with Meghan as the tip of contact in Kinguyakkii.
Dana turned all that around by calling her direct supervisor in Syracuse. A man named, Garret McKee, once ranked as Meghan’s supervisor, and now had Dana as an agent. He made the long-distance decision to call the Anchorage field office. Whatever Dana embellished with McKee worked its poison back to Alaska.
The troopers had an immediate response that coordinated with the Anchorage Police Department and Transportation Security Administration at the Anchorage International Airport. While TSA flagged all incoming flights from the surrounding villages, the Anchorage police contacted security at Merrill Field in Anchorage. It was the public-use aviation airport that handled the charter and private flights to and from rural Alaska. Meghan felt Alaska law enforcement agencies did fine without involving the FBI needlessly. Unfortunately, it was way over her head at that point.
Six troopers, eight federal agents, Lester, Oliver, and Meghan, it was a full house without adding Dana’s inflated ego. Meghan stayed out of the way. She knew Lester took a position at the front desk. Oliver, enjoying the reunion with Riley, wasn’t concerned with the lack of available space in the situation room. People saw Meghan in the office at her desk. The bay window and open door made it easy.
Meghan put in her obligatory efforts to stay professional and cordial. For the most part, and the hardest, she stayed clear of Dana. The multifaceted authority goo that caused most overlapping agency short-circuiting happened in real-time right before Meghan’s eyes. With an outside perspective, she saw how leadership shifted from Dana to Reeve, and finally to the senior federal agency supervisor.
Dana considered her rank, and federal credentials preempted any authority Reeve assumed. Meghan saw how Reeve’s troopers took orders directly from him and not Dana’s instructs that came from the hip. Meghan held back, breathing deep, paid close attention, but remained out of the way.
“How are you doing?” Chandler asked when he broke away from the milling group of blue uniforms. He took up most of the doorway to Meghan’s office and had a little perspective on what happened around the station.
Chandler was tall and lean and handsome. Meghan liked him because he wasn’t shy about letting her know when Sergeant Reeve had random village checks. What Meghan knew from the heads up, it was never random with Reeve.
“I am dutifully performing my civil duties and staying out of the way,” she said.
“Good job on the Amber Alert.”
Meghan only nodded.
“You think she’s somewhere safe?” he asked.
“Am I allowed to have an opinion on the matter?” After saying it, Meghan pressed her lips together as they got away from her. She let the aggravation subside. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long night.”
“Well, from where I stand, it’s going to be a long day.” He pressed his fingers against the round brim of the trooper hat in a salute. Unlike the other troopers, Riley included, Chandler wore a hat instead of the black knit cap. Meghan thought he looked good in uniform and the hat.
Chandler left the doorway. Meghan scanned the room. She saw Dana and Reeve standing together, peering over the maps on the conference table. Troopers and some FBI cadets raided the coffee station. She saw how the cadets responded when the FBI supervisor moved through the ranks.
Sergio Wilcox, Special Agent in Charge for the Anchorage field office, seemed like an attentive older man with patience and an eye for trouble. Meghan got to view him from the side and didn’t inject herself in the middle of the conversations between Reeve and Wilcox. That was Dana’s job, and she excelled at getting in the middle of everyone’s conversations.
The cadet go-bags cluttered the far back corner of the station. They packed for cold weather and for an extended time. The occupancy of the police station didn’t rate for eighteen people at one time. Lester monitored the front and kept the door locked. He texted Meghan from time to time about the growing crowds outside. People wanted to help. It wasn’t her call, and they had to wait as long as she did.
The atmosphere had a little tension and a lot of body heat. It felt like a summer night after a thunderstorm when the ions collected against the skin.
Ten minutes after Wilcox arrived and Meghan watched the professional interaction, the man found his way to her office. Meghan stood beside the desk and shook hands with Wilcox. He was over retirement age fo
r the bureau, a little older than sixty-seven by Meghan’s guess. His trimmed bureau hairstyle and cold-weather clothing made him appear confident, and no stranger to the elements.
“Chief Sheppard,” he said. The handshake was firm, and Meghan felt Wilcox took that time to assess Meghan.
“Special Agent in Charge, Wilcox,” Meghan said.
It was unnecessary, but Meghan played the game long enough to know when she had to bend to the proper authority. The man didn’t have all the answers, but from that point forward, it was Wilcox’s show.
“I believe you have everything available to execute the grid search intended and make contact with the locals. I’ve included a phone contact list for the mayor, school officials, and other city agencies that can assist.” Meghan felt the retired persona bubbling up from her past. Wilcox didn’t expect or have time for surprises. She assumed he had all the relevant background information on the girl and her family.
With a case as crucial as an Amber Alert, small talk and interagency power struggles had no place. He stood beside the chair, facing Meghan. She remained standing and felt her spine stiffen at attention. Body language spoke louder than words.
Dana had successfully undermined Meghan’s body image with many comments about her derriere. Meghan didn’t allow personal feelings to overshadow the real issues.
“Chief Sheppard, I appreciate you accommodating us,” Wilcox said. “Sergeant Reeve had some suggestions about how we take care of this business. I’m curious if you have anything to add that will enable us to utilize our people better.”
Meghan waited to answer. She took a breath. Meghan had all night to prepare and think about how she’d handle the operations if she were in charge.
“Take advantage of the people waiting outside. I’ll make sure we get a full list of names from the volunteers. Duane Warren, the city mayor, is the right person to make it look like an entire team effort instead of the bureau and troopers taking over the town. People want to see him among your teams.
Lost in the Wild Page 5