hanging out at his usual haunts. It would now be a major waiting game—waiting for him to contact her or hunting him down again. Only this time he’d be warier and harder to find.
Hell, what choice did she have?
And from the looks of her apartment, the guy had anger management issues. Baker was beyond pissed. She had a feeling trashing her place was only the first installment to his payback. It wouldn’t be so bad if this was only a head-on collision between her and Baker, but she knew it wasn’t that simple. Other lives would be at stake, and that thought weighed heavy in the pit of her stomach. Whatever was going to happen, she had to pull her part off clean.
As Jess crossed the street with Baker’s laptop slung on her shoulder, she squinted into the late afternoon sun, unable to shake the image of Baker’s angry face. Even in broad daylight the man triggered a deeply rooted jumble of rage and degrading fear in her—an all too vivid taste of her past. She knew she’d have to find a way to control such feelings or he would have the upper hand.
With other lives at risk, she had to come out on top. And instinct told her time was running thin.
CHAPTER 7
Payton drove to a building at the junction of the Talkeetna Spur Road and Parks Highway where the state maintained a small troopers’ office only fifteen miles from Susannah’s place. He couldn’t get his mind off the mysterious Anchorage schoolteacher who’d driven Nikki out of town. Taking a kid in the middle of the night, without the knowledge of her mother, was completely irresponsible. No way the woman could claim the incident was one big misunderstanding. What would compel a complete stranger to do such a thing?
But his more immediate problem would be Trooper Dan Fitzgerald.
How could he convince the man to trust him—to allow him to accompany the troopers when they talked to this teacher? He quickly came up with a simple plan. When they entered the troopers’ office, he would let Joe Tanu take charge. It made perfect sense. It was Joe’s turf, and he appreciated Joe’s influence with an organization he’d worked with for years.
When they walked in, they were greeted by a familiar voice.
“Hey, Joe. Figured we’d see you sooner or later.” At her desk behind a counter, Bernice Fleming looked up from her dispatch duties. “Sorry to hear about Nikki, Payton. Susannah and her daughter sure got their share of trouble.”
Bernice shook her head. The older woman’s face was a mix of concocted sympathy and the righteous superiority of a regular churchgoer.
Payton didn’t want to talk about Nikki with Bernice. He had no patience for it. For whatever reason, the woman thrived on other people’s misery. Some folks were like that. Given the woman’s reputation, the implication he heard in her voice was that his niece had probably brought this on herself and Susannah played a hand in it, though he also knew that his hangover had tainted his perspective.
“Thanks, Bernice.” It was all he could get out.
With the incessant pounding in his head, anything from his mouth echoed like a bass drum inside his skull, triggering other painful twinges. He caught a sideways glance from Joe, who picked up on his mounting irritability. In his understated manner, Joe zapped him with a heavy dose of “stick eye.” His friend had practically invented the disapproving look.
Payton shrugged and heaved a sigh.
A handful of folks in town still treated him like a celebrity, leaving him with the empty ache of knowing he never measured up. Bernice Fleming was one of those people who probably thought she meant well, but the way she expressed her sympathy, it seemed she straddled the fence between good intentions and the idle curiosity of a rumor monger gathering intel and a good head of steam. He had no time to sift through the merits of her intentions. Truth told, he preferred outright hostility, something he could deal with, like a beefy lineman hungry to humiliate a cocky young quarterback on a one-way ego trip.
“I suppose a second time doesn’t make it any easier,” Bernice went on. “How’s Susannah holding up?”
“Well, how would you—” He stopped and reigned in his attitude, then took a deep breath before he continued. “She’s doing the best she knows how.”
He knew she was fishing for the real dirt behind Nikki’s disappearance and pushing his buttons to get it, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. No one else needed to know the nightmare of his sister’s pain.
Even living in Alaska, where a guy’s idiosyncrasies were considered normal and his past was respected as private, most folks in Talkeetna went out of their way to speak their minds about him. And he’d brought the same attitude down on his sister by default. For some reason, both their lives were fair sport. And contrary to the norm, many folks had an opinion.
He’d gotten used to it, but Susannah had been an innocent bystander. She deserved better.
His own downward spiral had sucked his sister in—guilt by association—but he received the worst of it by far. To his face or behind his back, it didn’t matter. Most people openly looked upon him as a major disappointment— quite a fall from the celebrity they’d heaped on him not too long ago. Now, he was nothing more than a drunk, a brawler, and a failure. He could see it in their eyes—and his own when he looked in a mirror.
People saw what they wanted to see. He guessed he was no different.
But if Joe hadn’t come along today, he wasn’t sure how much help he’d be to Susannah. He’d worn out his welcome with the local law.
“You need to speak to Trooper Fitzgerald?” Bernice stuck to protocol with the formal title. Her question had been directed to Joe, but she kept her eyes on Payton.
“Yes, we do.” Joe nodded.
The woman glanced over her shoulder, then stood, her chair squeaking with the effort. From behind the plexiglass window, she stepped toward them and rested her elbows on the worn Formica countertop that separated the secured offices from the waiting area.
“He’s on the phone. No telling how long he’ll be.” She forced a smile. “I got some coffee brewing, fresh. Can I get you boys a cup while you wait?”
“Not for me.” Joe shook his head. “Thanks, Bernice.”
Payton did the same, mumbling a distracted reply under his breath.
“You almost missed him. He’s heading to Anchorage, but I’ll slip him a note to let him know you’re waiting. Just have a seat.”
After Bernice ducked behind a closed door, Payton glanced back toward the visitor chairs. With the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he couldn’t imagine sitting while the trooper got off the phone. His impatience had taken a firm grip.
Pacing the small room, he found his eyes unable to settle on any one thing. Flashes of Nikki’s face plagued him, along with erratic sound bites from their last conversations. He’d been so rapt in his own misery, he hadn’t spent much time with Susannah or Nikki; something else to fuel the fires of guilt.
“God, I hate this.”
Payton wasn’t sure he’d spoken aloud, but when he spotted Joe from the corner of his eye, he noticed his friend standing and watching him. Cool and rock steady as still water, Joe’s dark eyes never gave away his thoughts. Most days, Payton envied the man’s self-control. Yet there were other times he thought holding a mirror to Joe’s nose might tell him if the man actually breathed like normal people.
“Trooper Fitzgerald will see you now.” Bernice opened the door to let them come in.
By the time he and Joe walked down the hall to Fitzgerald’s office, the trooper was standing by his desk, ready to leave. He had plans to make their visit short and anything but sweet.
“Look, I gave you the courtesy of staying put until you got here, but I can’t let you come to Anchorage. This is police business, Joe. And last I looked, you weren’t on the payroll.”
Fitzgerald looked intimidating enough in the authoritative duty gear troopers wore, and he had a way of
