Lost in the Wild

by Leigh Mayberry

  Meghan ignored the few visitors who came by the house. It was easy to know who stopped by because they usually called through the door.

  When Meghan finally got motivated to start looking at the future outside law enforcement, she needed a little inspiration.

  “I didn’t think you’d answer the phone,” Meghan said. She reclined on the sofa with a blanket over her legs. It was a little after three in the afternoon, which translated to a little after seven in the evening on New York time.

  “I’m fixing dinner for Dad,” Brittany said. “What’s up?”

  “Oh nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Meghan didn’t know what it was about listening to the soothing sounds of her daughter’s voice, but sometimes, even a few thousand miles away, Brittany helped Meghan cope with stress or loneliness.

  “Well, that’s okay, I guess.” The noise in the background had a little music, tableware, and the general sounds of someone doing something that wasn’t related to Alaska or Meghan’s life. “Hey, I applied for a scholarship to UAA.”

  The University of Alaska was a long way from New York. Out of state tuition was expensive. Brittany was pragmatic, like her mother, and frugal like her father. A teenager that never had to worry about a meal or a roof overhead didn’t understand how money worked. There was nothing wrong with Syracuse University. Brittany could live at her father’s house and commute to school every day. Yet, someone who had a college in her backyard didn’t want to go there. She wanted to explore other options. Meghan knew Brittany thought about Alaska because of her mother.

  “Well, I hope you still apply for scholarships to Ithaca or Syracuse. You still have a whole year anyway.”

  “I know, but it’s good to get a head start. Even if they reject me before the fall semester, I can apply for next year when I am out of high school.”

  Brittany, the forward-thinking and conscientious young woman, knew she had actively pursued what she wanted in life because it wasn’t handing out rewards for complacency.

  “Maybe you’ll change your mind. They’re big on volleyball at UAA, but I don’t think they have a track team.”

  “What’s wrong?” Brittany asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s the second time you subtly talked me out of applying to the university. Something happened, I know you.”

  “I’m considering my options.”

  “Oh? You mean like moving back to New York?”

  “Would you like that?” Meghan needed to know what her daughter thought because after what happened and what Dana said, Meghan didn’t feel much like Mother of the Year.

  “I like you living in Alaska. I think it’s cool. It’s a great topic at parties.”

  “Whoa young lady, what parties?”

  “We have weekend raves in abandoned buildings around Syracuse, where we do bath salts and dance around naked.”

  “What did I tell you about that stuff?”

  “Don’t dance naked?”

  “That’s right.” They shared a laugh, but Meghan fund it hard to feel the humor.

  “Okay, Mom.” There was a clanging of dishes on Brittany’s side of the phone call. “What’s really going on?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve had a few things going on at work,” she said.

  “Anything interesting?” Brittany asked.

  “I guess so,” she said. There was a point when Meghan wanted to spill it all out for her daughter. She held back because burdening her daughter with the realization her mother lost her job, wasn’t something Meghan wanted to talk about. It wasn’t right for the appetite, either.

  “I’m thinking of taking a sabbatical from work.”

  “You mean you’re quitting?”

  “Not exactly,” Meghan said. “I’m considering my options.”

  “Does that mean you’re moving out of Kinguyakkii too?”

  “That’s a possibility.”

  “That’s too bad. I kind of like that place.”

  “You didn’t spend enough time here.”

  “I’m coming back to visit. Maybe I’ll stay a year before I start college.”

  “You are going to college as soon as high school ends. It’s easier for you, and you don’t have to deal with real-life drama until you’re a little older.”

  “I don’t know if I want to deal with real-life drama at all. You’re a little older, and I think there’s a lot more going on with you than you’re telling me.”

  “You know, I’d let you know if something happens.”

  “You mean like the time some guy tried to strangle you, and you poisoned him with peanut butter?” Brittany said.

  “That was not something I wanted you to worry about?”

  “What about the time you fell in the ocean and almost drowned?”

  “That happened because I was stupid and took a huge risk. That won’t happen again.”

  “What happened this time?”

  “I probably permanently injured an FBI cadet.”

  “Oh, wow. What happened? What did he do?”

  Brittany understood that it was likely the other party who started the situation. Meghan ended it. She hoped, leading by example, Brittany kept her temper in check when her mother acted out. She decided to keep the details of the incident quiet until she got arrested for assault, or eventually got out of the state.

  “We’ll save it for another time.”

  “It sounds like you’re all done with doing your job up there.”

  “I think so,” she said.

  “That’s too bad. I’ll bet a lot of people like you keeping them safe. I’ll bet they’ll be sorry when you leave.”

  “I don’t know.”

  It felt like no one cared about her and what happened to her. Meghan didn’t want to get too far down a depression rabbit hole because she ran out of pretzels and ice cream a few hours after she lost her job. She didn’t want to replenish her supplies because Meghan wasn’t interested in seeing anyone else. She suspected the whole town knew she’d failed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was daybreak on Thursday morning when someone pounded on the front door startling Meghan out of a blissful dream, sleeping on the couch. She managed to check the time on her smartphone before sitting up, debating on answering the door. She wore black yoga pants and a heavy sweatshirt and thermal socks. Meghan hoped her hair wasn’t too ratty. She knew showering and brushing her teeth weren’t at the front of her self-quarantined house-arrest. Meghan didn’t intend hugging or kissing anyone, so as long as she didn’t get too close, what did it matter?

  “Why don’t you get dressed,” Lester said. He walked inside immediately. Meghan stepped back as he stood on the floor mat in front of the door.

  “Why do I have to get dressed? Are you here to arrest me?”

  “What are you talking about?” Lester had a sense of humor. It sometimes happened when Meghan saw him smile or laugh. Give the recent turn of events; she gave him some license for the stony attitude. “I want you to come with me when I talk to Gene. He’s back in town.”

  “I’m not police chief anymore, Lester. You don’t have to pander to me.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Reeve told me I was in charge for now. I’m not interested, but whatever is going on between you and him is your business. Right now, I want to talk to Gene about his niece and find out what happened to him.”

  “Does it look like something happened to him?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know, would I? I haven’t talked to him.”

  Meghan wandered back to the warm spot on the sofa. She pulled the comforter around her shoulders.

  “You know he terminated me, right?”

  “I know he submitted a review of your behavior with that idiot from Anchorage.”

  “How much do you know about it?”

  “Vincent told me all about it.”

  “Did they arrest him?”

  “No, but the FBI executed a warrant on his apartment. They collected hi
s personal items. I think they want to test items found in his apartment against Chrissy’s DNA. Given that me and Oliver both vouched for Vincent, seeing him at the dance, I don’t think they plan to arrest him for anything.”

  “I don’t know. I saw the underwear he had. I’m worried that his obsession got the better of him. He should know better. He’s not a pedophile, but if one person comes forward and identifies any of those items, Vincent will get a suspended sentence and have to register as a sex offender. He’ll lose his job and his apartment all for the sake of gratification.”

  “I’m not judging him,” Lester said. “I am curious about what happened to Gene. I want to know why he’s been MIA for a while. He waits until after we hold a vigil for Chrissy.”

  “I’m sorry I missed it,” Meghan said guiltily.

  “I understand, but you owe an apology to the Tuktus.”

  “I know. I’m planning on going to their apartment soon.”

  “You know, I called the title company on that property,” Lester said.

  “Thanks, but that’s not my business anymore.”

  “The house is in Clifford’s name. It’s like you said. It belonged to him. Gene pays the mortgage, and that’s all the bank cares about.”

  Meghan nodded. “You can talk to him about it. But I don’t know what good it will do. You can ask him to vacate the property, but he doesn’t have to leave unless the bank issues a foreclosure notice. They’ll take their time if he continues to pay the mortgage. Even if he stops paying, it could take years for the bank to foreclose on the property. It isn’t until that happens that you can arrest him for trespassing. He could squat there, and you risk playing security for the bank instead of a cop for the city.”

  “How about you explain that to Gene when we see him,” Lester said.

  “You know I’m a civilian now. You can’t take civilians on investigations.”

  “Well, you’re all I got.”

  “What do you mean? Where’s Oliver?”

  “He quit as soon as he heard about what happened to you.”

  “What? No way,” Meghan said.

  “They need to replace him.”

  “Do you have any help?”

  Lester shook his head. “Reeve took everyone back to Anchorage. Agent Wilcox took his cadets back to the academy, and I took your friend to the airport yesterday morning.”

  “I am sorry about Dana.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll never see her again. I’m worried about what happens around here when people think they lost their police again. We started putting faith back into the department with you as chief. Now people are going to lose faith again. Not to mention what happens when people know we’re lawless again.”

  “They got you,” Meghan said, trying to soften the edges. Oliver leaving his post out of some loyalty to Meghan made her feel wanted, but it was selfish on her part. Lester needed the sergeant. Oliver abandoned his responsibilities voluntarily. Meghan didn’t have a choice to leave.

  Lester remained unmoved. Meghan stood up again; she left the duvet on the couch in the cocoon shape of her body. She moved around the furniture.

  “Silvia wants me to transfer to the cable company or the power plant. She doesn’t want me doing this by myself.”

  “That leaves a big hole,” Meghan said.

  “You left a big hole when they let you walk out of the place.”

  “I won’t take that as another reference to my weight, Lester.”

  “I’m not doing this alone, Meghan. I am too old to stress about this. Come with me today. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “Okay, let me get dressed,” she said. Meghan started to walk down the small hallway.

  “It’s okay,” Lester said. “I can wait until you take a shower.” It wasn’t a suggestion, not by the look on his face when Meghan saw it.

  ***

  Meghan saw the beat up and muddy four-wheeler parked in the muddy divots in front of the house on Rurik Way. The wells were so deep that Eugene intentionally used the gouged earth as a kickstand for the machine at that point; it was a conscious decision to park in the same place all the time.

  “Gene, it’s Lester Graves,” he said, banging on the door.

  Meghan stood in the gravel facing the tiny porch. Lester stood in front of the door. With the house elevated off the ground, usually, people walking to the door made noise outside. Lester and Meghan didn’t hear anything. Lester banged on the door again.

  “Gene, I know you’re in there.” He tried the doorknob. It turned in his glove, and he pushed open the door. “Gene?”

  Lester and Meghan exchanged glances. Lester wore BDU pants, the button-down uniform top, badge, and the Kinguyakkii Police nylon insulated packet. His uniform gave Lester the authority to walk into Eugene’s residence for a welfare check. The moment Meghan walked up the steps and crossed the threshold, technically, she committed burglary, criminal trespass. If Eugene didn’t permit Meghan, she could face additional charges added to assaulting an officer. It turned into an extremely problematic Memorial Day weekend for Meghan. Some people looked for the best retail sales; Meghan had to consider the conditions of Hiland Mountain Correctional Center in Eagle River, Alaska. It was her future home if Trooper Sergeant Reeve found out she helped Lester on a call.

  Yet, the fact Eugene failed to answer his door put life over consequences when she followed Lester inside. She closed the door behind her to keep out the 34°F that clung to the day outside. Inside, Meghan felt the cool air and caught the scent of something familiar.

  “You smell that?” Lester asked.

  Meghan nodded. She scanned the visual living area. Boots kicked off by the door had thick pockets of mud clinging to the tread and leather top. She moved into the house on a mission. People were complacent in their homes. They moved around as if no one outside monitored their indoor behavior. That meant Eugene wasn’t actively hiding something from the police. She knew as Lester knew it, if they found anything, it was inadmissible in court.

  Meghan ran her hands over the bulky coat on the rack next to the door. She found a bottle of whiskey in the pocket. Very little of the brown liquid remained inside the container.

  Lester walked from the front door, down the hallway. He went room by room, opening doors, or looking inside.

  “Back here,” he said.

  Meghan left the bottle in Eugene’s coat pocket. She went down the hallway, where Lester stood facing inside the bedroom. Meghan peeked inside. She saw Eugene lying on his stomach, half-covered with the blanket. The bottom half of him, in the dirty underwear, showed quickly from the doorway. He snored lightly.

  “Well, that’s an image I won’t get out of my head soon,” she said.

  Lester pointed to the plastic bottle of cheap whiskey. It stood on the floor next to Eugene’s wet, muddy jeans. It had very little left inside the container.

  “What do we do?” he asked.

  “What do you mean? You’re the acting chief of police. What do you want to do?”

  “Can I arrest him?”

  Meghan looked at Eugene, still rooted in a drunken slumber.

  “If you can get him to wake up and step outside of his house, you can make contact with him out in the open. That gives you enough probable cause for an arrest.” She pointed to the bottle. “You can’t get that without a warrant. You can’t get a warrant without having probable cause. You can’t get probable cause because you can’t see inside the house. After all, he has his bedroom window covered. The empty bottle I found in his coat isn’t visible without searching for it.”

  “So, we wait until he wakes up? It could be hours before that happens. He could hide the evidence.”

  Meghan nodded.

  “What would you do?”

  “You mean if I was still police chief or as a concerned citizen?”

  “I need you to help me with this,” Lester said.

  It was a plea from a man who knew working in a job alone that put him in contact with alcohol was a danger
ous mix. Eugene’s body odor gave off the telltale aroma of someone binge drinking. It was the kind of thing Meghan recognized from her job. It was the kind of thing that Lester feared because an addict never forgot. The body remembered when the brain wanted to block the signs.

  “I think there’s another way we can handle this,” Meghan said. “We need to hurry because you want to catch him still asleep. We need to go see Joane.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  It wasn’t easy walking into Mountain Manor again. Meghan felt the stares; she imagined she heard the wicked rumors echoing through the stairwell and the long corridor that led to the apartment. Lester knocked on the door. They had to wait, hearing the television blaring inside. Lester moved to hit again when the door opened.

  Cecil stood in his Henley shirt, sweatpants, and white socks.

  “Hello,” he said. He looked around Lester to see Meghan standing out of the way in the hall. When he made eye contact with Meghan, he opened the door wider. “Come in.”

  Lester and Meghan moved into the house. The stacks of dirty dishes in the sink, the ripe scent of cumin and grease from the pan, told Meghan the family had a modest dinner of something resembling taco seasoned ground beef on white bread. She saw Earl sitting in the recliner watching TV. Cecil left the front door area where it overlapped the kitchenette.

  “Hey, Earl,” Lester said.

  The man jolted, he hadn’t heard them at the door. He fixed the chair in the upright position and stood to face them. Socks, boxer shorts, and a t-shirt, Meghan saw Earl’s embarrassment. She wasn’t concerned and didn’t care.

  “Is Joane around?” Meghan asked.

  “Mom’s in the bedroom,” Cecil said.

  It was the most offered as he retreated to the youth bedroom and closed the door. Meghan saw something changed in the room but didn’t see enough inside to know what was different.

  “We need to talk to Joane about some business,” Lester said. He pulled off the beaver ushanka. He switched headgear depending on the weather and how much outside work he had to do. “It’s important.”