He looked at his knobby naked knees. “It’s illegal to drink in the Borough, if you don’t like it, move out.”
“That’s right. So, you’re listening.” Meghan waited because it wasn’t her show. Lester looked bleary with anger. “Where were you the last few days?”
“I went out hunting. I got some traps north of here.”
“Gene, you can’t trap this time of year. You know it’s illegal,” Lester said.
“Shit, man, I’m sorry. Please, let me go. I won’t do it again.”
“Which part are you sorry about, Gene? Killing animals out of season or bootlegging?” Lester shook his head. “We’ve been trying to call you since Saturday night.”
“People saw you at the dance, Gene,” Meghan said. “You’re telling us, you left the dance and drove out of town trapping?”
“Yeah, I was, that’s what I did.”
“I don’t believe you,” Meghan said. “Do you believe him?”
Lester shook his head. “Where’s your phone?”
Eugene shook his head. “I dropped it in the mud. Go check. It’s in the pocket of my pants. I want to have the phone company repair it, or I guess they replace it.”
Meghan left the living room. She went into Eugene’s bedroom. A collection of clothes covered the faux wood laminate flooring like a makeshift throw rug. Meghan didn’t bring surgical gloves. She used two fingers to lift each set of pant legs to shake contents out of the pockets. Eventually, she got to the last pair of pants. Muddy and damp. She shook loose the smartphone. A cracked screen and caked with black mud.
Meghan turned to carry it back to the living room when something caught her eye. Eugene had a set of bedside nightstands. She saw something under one nightstand on the side where he spent most of the time sleeping. Meghan squatted to look under the nightstand without touching. It was a ringed hardcover notebook. The kind of department store inexpensive plain black cover notepad with a ringed binder that people bought when they couldn’t afford better quality paper. Meghan saw a pen on the top of the nightstand.
Using the pen hooked through one of the rings of the binder, Meghan pulled the notebook from under the nightstand. It had stickers on the cover. They were the kind of labels that appealed to little girls, fairies, and unicorns, with cats and dogs. Meghan flipped open the top page using the pen.
“Everything okay in there?” Lester called from the living room.
Meghan stared at the first page. She turned the book, so it showed the image straight. She used the pen to flip to another random page. She turned the next page and the following page.
Meghan left the smartphone on the floor beside the notebook. She stood and walked with purpose back to the living room.
“Did you kill your niece, Eugene?” she asked. It felt as if broken glass churned in her stomach. She felt a burning in her throat.
“What? What are you talking about?” Eugene had a look on his face like his best friend just stabbed him in the gut.
“You tell me right now,” Meghan said. She stormed to the couch and kicked Eugene in the kneecap. He bellowed in pain. “Right now, right now, you tell me exactly what you did and where you’ve been since Saturday night.”
“I don’t understand,” he said before Meghan kicked him again.
She felt Lester’s hand on her shoulder and shrugged it off.
“You saw Christine on Saturday night at the school gym.”
He shook his head. “I went to the Memorial dance. I didn’t see Chrissy. I saw Joane and Earl. I saw Cecil.”
“You took off with Christine at what time, Eugene?”
“I didn’t,” he said.
Meghan kicked him in the kneecap again. He bellowed in pain. He fell to the side across the sofa, drawing up his legs. Still handcuffed behind his back, Eugene couldn’t fight back.
“You need to step back,” Lester said.
“If you saw it, Lester, you’d probably kill him. I’m saving his life.”
“What’s going on?”
“That sick bastard killed Christine. He took her from the school when everyone else had their backs turned. He took her out on the ice and threw her in.”
“Why? Why would I kill Chrissy? I love her. She’s my blood. She’s my brother’s daughter. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.” The rest of the words buried in the cushions.
“She’s your blood. You disgust me, Eugene. You are the worst kind of man. You prey on children. On your own family,” Meghan said.
“No, what are you talking about. I love Chrissy. Why are you doing this?”
“I’m tired, Eugene. I am so tired of people lying to me. I am tired of people using the system to get away with murder. I am all done. I’ve had enough.” Meghan broke away from Lester and snatched Eugene by a fistful of greasy hair. She wrenched on his head, forcing his neck to stretch hard. “I should take you out on the ice and throw you in, see how long you stay up.”
“I don’t understand.” Eugene cried and pulled tighter into the fetal position. “What are you talking about?”
“Chrissy’s dead,” Lester said. “She drowned in the bay. We recovered her jacket.” He watched Meghan. She saw him debating on pulling her off. “Gene, did you do it?”
“No, no, I swear, I didn’t do it. I didn’t know. I didn’t see her Saturday. I went with Nate. We bought some whiskey. We went drinking down in the cabin by the inlet.”
“Who were you with?” Lester asked.
“Nate. Me and Nate bought the bottles.”
“You have $900 in booze, Gene. Where’d you get the money?”
“I made some money doing repairs in Kiana last month. The guy finally paid me.”
“Who did you buy the booze from?”
“Chrissy’s dead, Lester? Are you serious?” It sunk in, and he began gasping and sobbing.
Meghan moved away from the couch. She wiped her hand on her jeans. Staring at Lester, he had to make the decisions.
“You can arrest me for assault. I don’t care.”
“Who can vouch for you at the cabin?” Lester asked.
“Nate. I was with Nate; we spent the last five days there. I got back and went to bed. Then you bust into my house and tell me my niece drowned.”
“This isn’t your house, asshole. This house belongs to the woman who you just stole a child from. You probably killed your brother when you found out Cliff wanted to move out and give the house to Joane.”
Meghan took several deep breaths. She waited for Lester. He stood facing the couch, watching the transformation of a guilty man. Eugene began the deep descent into his darkest nightmares. His body shook violently as he screamed and bawled. The snot and spit bubbled and oozed out of him. His breathing hindered the crying. His shoulders drawn tight to his head; Eugene responded to Meghan’s accusation like a madman finally unburdened by the past.
“Gene, did you kill your brother?” Lester asked. He kept his voice even, pressing down the overwhelming sensation that a man just involuntarily confessed to killing his brother. It came six years late.
“I didn’t mean it,” he sobbed. “I didn’t want to do it.”
Meghan had enough. She waved away the degenerate blubbering on the couch and wandered outside. The chilly air felt good on her sweaty and angry face. She didn’t wait for Lester. With Eugene handcuffed, he didn’t pose a threat to the acting police chief. She turned right on Rurik Way, and Meghan walked back to her lonely little house on Bison Street.
Chapter Twenty
Meghan walked home from Eugene’s house and took a long hot shower. She wanted to scrub away the images in her head from the drawing pad. She tried to disinfect her brain and hope that a man, who got away with murder once, wouldn’t get away with it again. Meghan tried scouring away the lies with body wash and a luffa sponge. She had had enough of the troublesome trickle of lousy faith and conniving people. Meghan knew in her time as police chief there were a few people in Kinguyakkii who she talked to face to face that deceived her. Crimi
nals exhibited criminal behavior.
She moved from the bathroom to the bedroom and climbed into bed. Meghan plugged in the smartphone charger, muted the ringer, and pulled the comforter up to her neck. Sunlight pulled at the curtain edges in her bedroom. Meghan turned away from the light, curled up and closed her eyes. Even if sleep didn’t come right away, she knew if she waited long enough, at least night happened, if rest didn’t.
When Meghan opened her eyes and saw daylight still fingering its way into the house, she thought only an hour or two slipped by. She retrieved the smartphone from the nightstand and disconnected it from the charger. She lay in bed, scrolling through the social media posts from her daughter. She checked the text messages from Brittany and sent a few replies. A day got by her, and it was the middle of the afternoon on Saturday. Meghan didn’t want to think she’d slept through an entire weekday. Her back ached, and her thigh muscles suggested she lay in bed for too long.
Meghan ignored the text messages from Lester. She ignored one from Oliver. She ignored the messages from Calvin. The list of voicemails from Duane, Trooper Sergeant Reeve, and several from private numbers suggested, in her time of solitude, a lot happened. She got out of bed and wandered into the kitchen in her yoga pants and t-shirt. Coffee took time to brew, and she relished the sound of the coffeemaker while the rich aroma filled the kitchen. She read the current news for the rest of the world on her phone, leaning against the kitchen counter.
Shut out of the administrative email from the city, Meghan saw several emails from officials in law enforcement personnel. Meghan deleted the emails without reading them. She deleted the voicemails without listening to them. She removed the hosts of text messages from everyone except Brittany. With the digital tethers gone, Meghan thought her phone felt lighter. She knew it wasn’t possible, but the tangible links to the rest of the world made her feel forgotten by the rest of the world. The only person who mattered to her still had a connection in her texts.
Meghan dreaded having to leave the house. She wasn’t a sentimental person, but the few pieces of Alaskan artwork she collected over the years mattered to her. She wanted to pack up the essential bits and leave anything that couldn’t fit in the luggage she stored in her closet.
It was a bright and surprisingly warm day outside. She wore sunglasses and a ski cap over her ears, down to her eyebrows. It was after one before Meghan left the house and marched down Shore Avenue.
Saturday meant substantial business for the Ammattauq Native Trader. Several customers milled around the small store, checking prices for bulk supplies. Meghan kept her head down and was wearing civilian clothes. No one paid attention. She was as insignificant as everyone else. Meghan didn’t want to stand out; she wanted to do what was right. Sometimes it took a sharp tongue or a heavy boot to make a difference. She had to consider life without the badge. To do that, she had to get out of Kinguyakkii.
“Do you want some coffee?” Eric asked. He leaned against the back supply wall facing the counter. His arms crossed over his chest.
Eric Kennedy was a man who Meghan admired because he made a difference to the community without a badge or an attitude.
She pressed her fingers on the glass countertop. “I’m here to see if you have any extra packing boxes. I don’t want to go to the Alaska Merchandise Store unless I have to,” Meghan said.
“I think I have a few you can have.” He stepped through the door to the back room of the store. It took a minute before he returned with a stack of boxes flat with twine tied around them.
“How much do I owe you?” she asked.
“I want a few minutes of your time,” he said.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I think the faster I get out of here, the better for everyone.”
“Really?” he said. His face remained neutral. “I disagree. But I’m not debating with someone determined to forge a path leading away from the people who care about her.”
“That is nice, but I think it’s not exactly true.”
“Give me five minutes,” he said.
“You’ve got customers.”
Meghan looked around for Linda. Eric’s wife wasn’t in the store.
“You folks don’t mind waiting to check out a few minutes while I talk to our police chief, do you?”
Meghan winced at the question blurted over the store. Head lowered, shoulders up, she didn’t look around before slipping through the break in the counter to follow Eric into the backroom.
“I think I’d rather pay for the boxes,” she said.
“I take donations for the boxes, Meg. I keep them for families who need them. The money goes into the food pantry.”
Meghan pulled a crinkled $10 from her front pocket and slapped it on the desk. Eric stood beside her and watched the monitors in the backroom. No one made off with supplies. Meghan suspected he knew everyone in the store. If they shoplifted, Eric would add it to their family accounts.
“Let’s talk about Chrissy,” he said.
“I can’t, please, Eric. I don’t want to talk about her. I am mad and sick about it.”
“I heard a rumor that you managed to solve a murder no one else knew anything about.”
“That’s not true.”
“Well, I have it on good authority that you did that and managed to catch a child predator all without wearing a badge.”
Meghan sighed. She felt that hot knotted gutful of broken glass roiling inside her. It was a classic tale of predatory convenience. The estranged uncle preyed on the innocence of a ten-year-old girl.
“The worst of it,” she said finally. “I wonder how long it went on. How long did Eugene put his hands on that little girl?” She shook her head. “I keep thinking that it wasn’t the fact Clifford told Eugene he wanted to give the house to Joane and the kids. I think he found out about Eugene. That’s when he killed his brother. It’s the same reason he killed Christine when he saw the drawings.”
“I heard about the drawings.” Eric sipped from his mug. Meghan had her fill of coffee that morning. She needed a ticket out of town and a new start. “You found the drawing pad.”
“She had a lot of talent, Eric. I never saw that much experience in a child.”
“Well, you’ll be happy to know that in the few days you went into hibernation, a lot happened.”
“I don’t want to know.” She shook her head. “We found out that Eugene went drinking with Nate. The only Nate I can think of is Nathaniel Warren. That means Lester has to talk to the mayor’s son about the bootlegging in this town.”
“Lester quit yesterday.”
“What? No.”
“Meg, what did you think would happen?”
“I’m pissed Oliver quit and left Lester in a lurch.”
“He didn’t quit. Is that what Lester told you?”
“Yes.”
Eric shook his head. “He had a confrontation with Duane after they terminated you. Oliver tried standing up for you, and Duane terminated him. It was a premature and underhanded move if you ask me.”
“Why would Lester tell me Oliver quit?”
“Probably because he thought you’d go to Duane’s house and assault him if you found out.”
Meghan felt the smirk on her face. It was impossible to avoid. “Eugene Tuktu had it coming. Anyway, Lester told me about Oliver quitting before I kicked Eugene.”
“You should know that this place will implode without you around here.”
“They don’t need me. They don’t want any part of how I conduct business. I invite one person to town who I thought was my friend, and she managed to destroy everything I thought I had under control.”
“Well, perhaps your friend, Dana Wyatt, punched holes in your operation because you failed to reinforce it.”
“Is this some metaphysical thing?”
“No, all I’m saying is some people think they know how to do it better than others. She came here, and you allowed her to walk all over your business.”
Meghan shook h
er head. “You know how cliché it is when the FBI shows up, and the local sheriff is all up in arms about the feds taking over their case? That wasn’t something I wanted to repeat.”
“Well, from what I’ve heard from you on more than a few occasions, you’re not the sheriff. And from what I know, you were former FBI. I’d think that counts for something.”
“I feel like a complete failure. I feel like I let everyone down,” she said.
“You got a murderer to confess to killing his brother five years ago. I don’t call that a failure.”
“He got away with molesting a child in all that time.”
“You can’t control that. Look what you did for Vincent.”
“You mean how I got his privacy exposed to everyone?”
“No, Lester told me the FBI issued a formal apology to him. They returned his property, and Vincent is back to being, well, Vincent. I know no one’s talked about what happened at the department that day. I mean, I know, but you know, it’s me.”
“How do you know about all that?”
“Let’s say that your actions will become legendary in time.”
“I don’t want legendary status. I want a normal life.”
Eric burst into laughter. He almost spilled his coffee. “If you wanted a normal life, Meg, you’d never come to Alaska. This isn’t for someone who wants a normal life. We’re all here because we choose to live outside of normal. You are one of us, and you know it.”
“I can’t help feeling like I should have done more for Joane. I feel like the whole world took a dump on her. I can’t imagine how Cecil will handle all this.”
“I think Cecil might surprise you. He is a very gifted young man. Linda handles the online Native Alaskan museum forum, and Cecil’s teachers encourage him to explore our culture and history. Linda sees him posting on the museum forum a lot.”
“I guess that’s good. I feel like he’s going to miss out on a lot without his sister around.”
“I know, but at least you stopped a predator from hurting anyone else.”
“He’ll probably beat the pedophile charges. Detailed drawings of Eugene’s anatomy aren’t enough to convict him, just enough to convince me what he did with the girl.”
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