A Cold War Page 18

  Elese had banished him. That was the strength of sisters, thought Nina. A bond someone like Baer could not understand. It was men like him who had conducted witch hunts for centuries. They were afraid of women.

  Nina turned to the third page from the end. She always hated coming to the end of Elese’s booklet. It was all she had of her.

  In this cold and difficult land, I think it is important that you find your totem. It could be an eagle or wolf or bear. Maybe it will be a fox, mink, marten, or wolverine. The smallness and stealth of a mouse or vole might appeal to you. Perhaps you look to the sky and feel one with the raven or bald eagle. Or your spirit soars when you hear a chickadee cheerfully cry out, “Chick-a-dee-dee-dee,” even in the cold of winter. Or you see yourself swimming like a silvery salmon, or seal, toothed walrus, or whale. When your totem shows itself, you will be drawn to it.

  Beneath those words was the drawing of a large, muscular hare.

  My totem is the Arctic Hare. The first time I saw one running, I felt my spirit take flight. An Arctic Hare doesn’t run so much as it bounds. It pushes off like a kangaroo and sails through the air. Every time I see one racing, it takes my breath away. Of course, usually you don’t see them. You walk right by them, especially in the winter when the hares turn white and blend in with the snow and only their ears show a little black.

  I think if I am to get away from the monster, I will need that near invisibility of my totem. And I will need the hare’s speed.

  And if this proves to be my last will and testament, then I will to you my spirit, Sister.

  Nina wondered if she would find her totem. She did not have to wonder about Elese’s spirit. It was hers to carry, and to carry her, now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The meeting had come together much faster than Hamilton would have thought possible. Of course, it meant his taking a day off work to get from Seward to Fairbanks. It was a good thing his wife Carrie tolerated his obsession. Carrie referred to Elese as “the other woman.” Whenever Carrie caught him daydreaming, she knew he was thinking about the case.

  It wasn’t a trip the cop would have liked at the best of times, and traveling to Fairbanks in November was not the best of times, but that’s where Donnelly’s man, Cody Wood, was heading up the Nina Granville task force. The first part of the trip, the drive to Anchorage, had been fine. Hamilton was used to putting miles on his cruiser. But flying was another matter. He hated flying. He’d taken a turboprop out of the Ted Stevens Anchorage Airport and white-knuckled it to Fairbanks. The name of the airport always struck Hamilton as being ironic. Ted Stevens had been a longtime Alaska senator. In 2010, Stevens had died in an airplane crash. And more than thirty years before that, his first wife, Ann, had also died during a plane crash. There seemed something strange about naming an airport after someone who’d died flying.

  The shuttle dropped Hamilton off in front of the Chena River Lodge. Wood had set up his headquarters in a hotel not far from where Nina Granville had stayed in Fairbanks. The cop wasn’t surprised to see Greg Martin waiting for him as he stepped out of the van.

  “I thought I’d have to go up to the meeting without you,” said Martin.

  Hamilton didn’t bother to point out that he was ten minutes early. He had no doubt that Martin had probably been waiting for hours.

  “Lead the way,” said Hamilton.

  Wood personally greeted them at the door. He hadn’t lost his military posture, standing ramrod straight as he shook their hands. He was six feet tall, trim and fit, and appeared to be in his late thirties. Hamilton found himself unconsciously sucking in his gut and standing a little straighter in the other man’s presence, but when he realized what he was doing, he thought, To hell with that, and reverted back to his usual slouch.

  “Thank you for coming,” Wood said, as if the meeting had been his idea.

  He showed them into the outer room of his suite. It looked like a low-tech Pentagon war room with flip charts, whiteboards, and maps. The three men took seats at a table that must have been commandeered from a banquet room; Wood took a position at the head of the table. Nina Granville’s disappearance could be documented by the flyers, pictures, and print matter on the table. The flyers featured her attractive face. At the bottom, displayed in prominent letters and colored in what looked like US currency green, was the promise of REWARD.

  “I hope we can dispense with any formalities,” said Wood. “Most people call me Sarge because of the dozen years I spent in the army.”

  Hamilton took his cue and said, “Evan,” and Martin said, “Greg.”

  “As you know I work for Congressman Donnelly as his deputy chief of staff. I started in his office while the government was paying for my education in DC. As they say, politics makes for strange bedfellows.”

  Hamilton wondered how many times Sarge had used that line. The man did not strike him as being naturally urbane. He came across as tightly wound, even in this informal setting.

  “Now before we go any further,” Sarge said, “I need to tell you something that was brought to my attention only this morning. Given this information it’s possible we wouldn’t even be having this meeting, so I apologize if that’s the case.”

  He moved around some paperwork on the table until he found what he wanted. Then he pushed the blown-up photo toward the two men. The picture showed a shapely, tapered hand, but that only seemed to be the backdrop for a huge, sparkling diamond.

  “That’s a blowup of Ms. Granville’s hand,” he said. “As you can see, it shows her engagement ring.”

  Sarge made eye contact with each man. “What I am about to tell you needs to be kept confidential. Any leaking of this information could negatively impact the ongoing investigation.”

  “Understood,” said Hamilton.

  Martin shrugged and added, “Mum’s the word.”

  “Nina Granville’s engagement ring turned up this morning,” Sarge said. “Or at least part of it did.”

  “Part of it?” asked Hamilton.

  “The diamond has been cut. The piece we have is approximately one carat. Whoever is trying to dispose of the diamond must have realized it could be easily identified in its present form. But there were enough identifying markers even with the one carat for it to be flagged.”

  “Where did this carat turn up?” asked Hamilton.

  “In New York City,” he said. “Right now we’re trying to track down how it made its way from Alaska to New York and who might have had possession of it during that time.”

  “Have any arrests been made?” said Hamilton.

  “I am not at liberty to give out any details of the investigation. Because of next Tuesday’s elections, I had already planned to fly back east today, but this development has changed matters. It’s likely that after today, Congressman Donnelly’s temporary offices here in Alaska will be shut down.”

  Hamilton said aloud what he was thinking: “You think she’s dead?”

  Sarge measured his words and said, “We have made no such conclusion. We do recognize that my presence here, however, is no longer necessary. AST will continue to handle the investigation, and I will be in daily contact with them.”

  “This diamond turning up doesn’t mean she’s dead,” said Martin.

  Hamilton raised a brow at that. Why, then, when his wife’s jewelry had turned up in Anchorage, had he assumed she was dead?

  “I will continue to hope Ms. Granville is alive,” said Sarge, “but the emergence of part of her ring is a game changer.”

  “Why is that?” asked Martin.

  “Because that’s what the detectives working the case believe. They think they now have the motive behind her disappearance. When I originally came to Alaska, most people were convinced that Nina Granville had disappeared of her own volition. She was the so-called runaway bride. Of course, there were plenty of other theories as well, including . . .”

  Sarge took a moment to raise his hand and then began enumerating the theories starting with his thu
mb.

  “One, Ms. Granville is the latest victim of the ‘Donnelly Curse.’ As I am sure you are aware, many think that same curse was responsible for two Donnelly assassinations and several familial heartache stories, as well as other unfortunate and untimely deaths the Donnelly family has suffered.

  “Two, Ms. Granville is a political prisoner, who was taken by enemies of the Donnelly family.

  “Three, Ms. Granville was abducted for ransom.

  “Four, Ms. Granville was taken by some stranger for unknown purposes.

  “And five, Ms. Granville was a victim of a robbery.”

  Sarge had run out of fingers on his hand, but not theories. “There are also those who believe her disappearance was a result of an alien abduction, and I’ve heard from people who suspect the involvement of the Illuminati, the Bilderbergers, or the New World Order.

  “I admit that I am not an imaginative man. Because of that I usually look for the simplest explanation to any problem. From the first, I said that Ms. Granville was not a runaway bride, and when no ransom demands were made, it became clear she wasn’t taken for ransom or as some kind of international bargaining chip. That left what I thought was the most obvious cause for her disappearance. In fact, the moment I heard Ms. Granville was missing, the first thing that came to my mind was her engagement ring. If you wear a ring like that, you become a target. That was one of the reasons I advised her not to go to Alaska without a security detail.”

  Sarge turned his attention to the photo of the engagement ring; Hamilton and Martin did the same.

  “No one wearing that ring could keep a low profile. The stone is huge and flawless and catches the eye. It’s described as museum quality, and for good reason. It should be in a museum.”

  They could all see how the diamond setting extended almost to the Granville woman’s knuckle on her ring finger.

  “I am not a betting man,” said Sarge, “but if I was, I would say the wrong person took notice of that ring. I doubt whether the robbery was planned. And knowing Ms. Granville, I am sure she didn’t quietly hand over her ring to the robber. In a situation like that, matters can quickly go south.”

  “That’s assuming a lot,” said Martin. “The police weren’t even able to determine if there was a crime scene.”

  “There was sleet and pouring rain. If there was any blood, it was likely washed away.”

  “You said when you heard Nina Granville was missing, the first thing that came to your mind was her engagement ring,” said Martin. “The first thing that came to my mind was my wife.”

  “The troopers have briefed me on your theories.”

  “I’d like to brief you on them,” said Martin.

  “I’m listening.”

  “My wife was taken in the latter part of September. Nina Granville was also taken in September. A pilot named Tomcat Carter, and his aircraft, are missing. Tomcat was picking up his passenger, a mysterious man we know by the name of Grizzly Adams, at a lake in Talkeetna. This Grizzly Adams bears a resemblance to the man called Blackbeard who sold my wife’s jewelry. There were two stolen vehicles found abandoned in Talkeetna within days of when both my wife and Nina Granville went missing. As for where this Grizzly Adams might be, judging from what the pilot said to his girlfriend, his destination was somewhere in the vicinity of Manley Hot Springs. The likelihood of this was further corroborated by a source in Tanana who called Sergeant Hamilton. Supposedly last year our missing pilot had a conversation with one of his passengers about this trapper/survivalist who lived out that way.”

  Sarge pursed his lips. “You think this trapper is Grizzly? And this missing pilot flew Grizzly and his human cargo into the bush?”

  “That’s what I think,” said Martin.

  “I’m actually encouraged,” said Martin. “Do you think Sergeant Wood is going to follow through?”

  He and Hamilton sat down to coffee in the airport lounge before their flights.

  “I’ll be checking to make sure he does.”

  “If he gets the air force involved like he said, that could be huge. It sounded like he’d already had talks with that brigadier general at Eileson.”

  Eileson was the air force base southeast of Fairbanks. “Never forget the power of purse strings,” said Hamilton, “and that Donnelly is on the House Committee of Armed Services.”

  “I never gave any thought to the possibility of using drones. High tech might get Grizzly where nothing else would.”

  Hamilton nodded. Sarge had said he would try to get the general to set up a drone surveillance program over the area where they suspected Grizzly of being holed up. If Sarge was right, the remoteness of the land and the cold might actually help them in their search. The drones, equipped with thermal imaging and infrared cameras, would likely have fewer false positives flying over a landscape barren of humanity.

  “It went better than I expected,” Hamilton agreed, “especially in light of that diamond showing up.”

  “I don’t know why everyone would assume Donnelly’s fiancée was dead just because of that diamond.”

  “Didn’t you make that assumption when Elese’s jewelry turned up?”

  “That’s different. Elese was gone for three years.”

  “But how is it you seemed so certain?”

  Martin avoided his eyes. He shrugged and said, “I just was.” Hamilton waited silently. Martin made a strangled sound that was part sigh, part exasperation. “Are you ever going to stop beating that dead horse?”

  “I don’t like it when people lie to me.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t tell you the full goddamn story of my life right off the bat. And why did I omit certain things? Because you were doing everything possible to paint me as the prime suspect. I was desperate. I needed you to stop fixating on me and find Elese. That’s why I fudged the truth. I did it for Elese.”

  “You make lying sound noble.”

  “It must be nice being perfect.”

  “You didn’t tell me about your first wife. You never volunteered that you’d been arrested.”

  “When are we going to get beyond this déjà fucking vu?”

  “Among her other complaints, Candy said you stole her jewelry, and provided a list of the pieces that were missing. You denied that. But lo and behold, some of that jewelry turned up in an Anchorage pawn shop. Would you like to explain that?”

  Martin’s jaw clenched. “When I married Candy, I had no idea what love was. I was young and dumb, and I mistook lust for love. I’d never heard of borderline personality disorder, but I sure know about it now because Candy is a textbook case. And when I told my borderline wife I wanted to have our marriage annulled, she made my life a living hell.”

  “See, I’m interested in the time line,” Hamilton said. “Candy said you scared her into the annulment. And at the time you made those threats, you were already with Elese, weren’t you?”

  Martin snorted. “You know what bothered Candy more than anything? She saw how happy I was. She could see how I’d changed. Before Elese I had no idea what love was. It hit me like lightning.”

  “So Candy knew about Elese?”

  “She did and she didn’t. I think it had to be apparent I was head over heels in love. But I never talked about it with her, or even with my friends. I didn’t want to jinx it. I kept our relationship quiet. Our honeymoon could have almost qualified as an elopement.”

  “Did you steal the jewelry from your ex-wife?”

  “Do you want to arrest me? Is that it?”

  “I’d like to hear the truth.”

  “Yes, I stole the jewelry. But it was jewelry I gave her—jewelry my mother gave me before she died. Mom wanted me to give her jewelry to the woman I loved.”

  “What would you have done if Candy hadn’t agreed to the annulment?”

  “She had no reason not to. She got everything she wanted.”

  “You still haven’t answered the question.”

  Martin remained stubbornly silent.

 
Finally Hamilton said, “Anything else you want to clarify?”

  “Yeah,” said Martin. “You seem to think it’s suspicious that I now believe Elese is dead, and you want to know why that is.”

  Hamilton nodded. For the longest time Martin had held out hope that his wife was alive.

  “You want an explanation? Here it is. Nine or ten months ago, Elese came to me. I suppose you’d say she came to me in a dream, but that’s not how it felt at the time. She was happy and smiling and at peace. And she told me that she had left her body, but that wasn’t reason for me to grieve.”

  Martin’s voice wobbled. “I knew it really was Elese. That was just like her. She was looking in on her stray. I was that stray. Did I ever tell you about the time it was pouring rain, and she got soaked trying to help this poor, lost dog? She had the biggest heart of any person I’ve ever known.”

  Angrily he dug at a watering eye with his knuckle. “You going to arrest me?” he asked.

  “No,” said Hamilton.

  “Then go to hell.”

  Martin stood up, threw ten dollars down on the table, and walked away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “How did you survive this place for as long as you did?” said Nina.

  In her solitude Nina had taken to talking to Elese. She knew crazy people often talked to themselves and hoped she wasn’t now among their number, but it wouldn’t have surprised her if she was.

  “I’ve read your words over and over. I’m sure I would be dead if you hadn’t written. But how did you manage to come off sounding so measured and reasonable? On days like today, I feel crappy through and through, and I’m so damned angry. You are the Zen master, and I’m the unenlightened shit.

  “I usually don’t curse, you know. My mother is a rather proper woman, and she frowns on it. She always told me it wasn’t ladylike. But Mom was never put in a freezer and raped repeatedly.