“In that neighborhood, I’d be foolish not to protect myself. And you gotta admit, a Colt Python is a pretty nifty ice breaker.” Jess shifted in her seat. “Are you gonna arrest me? If not, I think I’ve had enough fun for one evening. I need my beauty sleep.”
Sam understood her friend’s sarcasm about her looks. When Jess looked in the mirror, she only saw the scars. And any man interested in her only wanted one thing, according to Jessie. She gave it when she had the same urges, but the room had to be completely dark and on her terms. No romance. No talking. No future. Jessie had no time for complications.
“She’s a cagey one.” The chief finally said. “Your friend should consider exercising her right to remain silent.”
“She may have the right, sir, but she sure doesn’t have the ability.”
She caught Chief Keller glancing down at her with a faint look of amusement.
“What’s your interest in this, Detective?”
The man turned his attention to Jess in the next room. Sam did the same.
“Personal, sir.”
Jess wasn’t the only one who knew about cagey. Sam’s answer was the equivalent of saying, “With all due respect, none of your business, sir.” She tightened her jaw, waiting for his response.
Silence filled the tight quarters. Sam felt the tension as Chief Keller stiffened beside her. The occasional voices carried over the speaker above, but the noise was muffled in her head. She was too distracted to register what was said.
After a long moment the chief spoke.
“Understand this, Detective Cooper. If you expect to advance your career, you must avoid the negative perceptions of others by steering clear of controversy. Your personal friend in there is mired in it. Par for the course, from what I can see.”
The man knew more about her relationship with Jess than she had given him credit for. She shut her eyes tight. None of this bode well for her career. The chief continued, dropping another bombshell.
“You may have to make a choice, Detective. That is, if you truly want to make the leap into the homicide division.”
He knew about her political maneuverings inside the department, lobbying for Homicide. She swallowed, hard. This was either a very good thing or she had completely blown it.
As if reading her mind, he added, “I’ve got my eye on you, Samantha. I expect your help in persuading your stubborn friend to let things cool between her and Baker. For both your sakes, I hope she listens to you.”
He turned to go, but Sam couldn’t resist another question.
“What happened with Baker, sir?”
She already knew the answer to her question. Sergeant Miller had briefed her, but she wanted to see if the chief would lie. Unfortunately, the man had a third option in mind. He completely ignored her insubordination.
“Process her out and get her home, Detective Cooper. Mr. Baker is none of your concern.”
Chief Keller left the room. And Sam never turned around.
Next door, Garza had given up and left Jess alone. Her friend sat rigid in the chair, not giving an inch. Eventually, she shifted her gaze to the mirror, knowing someone stood behind it. With stubborn defiance, Jess glared at the glass. Sam wanted to smile but knew the pain behind those eyes. The defense mechanism it took to hide her true emotions had been borne from years of abuse and the unflinching will of a survivor.
Sam debated how much to tell Jess about what she’d learned about Baker. In the end she decided she could never talk Jess out of her personal vendetta, nor did she want to.
Anchorage International Airport
3:20 A.M. AKDT
Claire Hanson had already been on edge, but when the young girl didn’t say much during the drive from Talkeetna to Anchorage, it made the trip seem like an eternity. Her attempt at conversation died on the Parks Highway when the girl avoided eye contact and kept to simple answers, if she replied at all. Her young passenger merely stared out the side window onto a murky blur of scenery.
And the chill in the morning air closed in on them both.
Claire didn’t know what to expect, given the girl’s special situation. But the poor kid needed help, leaving her little choice but to do what she could. Besides, the resemblance was uncanny. Even if she’d wanted to call the whole thing off, she couldn’t—not after seeing the girl’s face.
The airport terminal was busier than she expected, with the first bank of red-eye flights departing Anchorage. After pulling to the curb marked for departures, Claire parked the Subaru and turned off the engine. She leaned toward the girl and forced her to make eye contact this time.
“Everything’s going to be okay now. You’ll see.”
She reached out and stroked a loose strand of hair off the kid’s face, a familiar gesture that clouded Claire’s eyes with painful memories. The girl nodded, her eyes brimming with the start of tears, but she said nothing.
“Here’s your ticket and ID. You know what to do, right?” Handing over an envelope, Claire tried to keep the tension from her voice. “I mean, he told you what to do, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, I know what to do.” The troubled kid managed a fleeting smile. “And thanks.”
After a long moment burdened by the silence between two strangers, the girl looked at her plane ticket, then opened the car door and got her belongings from the backseat. While she did, Claire searched her mind for something to say. Anything to make one last connection. She wanted nothing more than to ask the girl to call her when she got where she was going—a mother’s instinct. But she had no right to ask that. She knew this would be the last time she’d see her.
Knowing she’d done the right thing had to be enough.
After the car doors slammed, the girl walked into the airport terminal looking small and unprepared, lugging her big duffel bag. A breath caught in Claire’s throat when the girl turned to look over her shoulder and waved. At that moment—for the first time—she felt a twinge of doubt.
If she had done the right thing, why did it feel so wrong?
Nikki had wanted to tell the woman not to worry, but Ivana had warned her not to talk to her. Her father had made the arrangements and could get into a lot of trouble if she did. Best friends don’t rat each other out, she’d told her. Besides, Ivana and her father were only trying to help.
Despite what she’d been told, Nikki couldn’t help but make one final gesture to the woman who had driven her to Anchorage. She turned to catch a glimpse of Claire through the huge airport window and waved one last time. Red taillights disappeared down a departure ramp against the backdrop of a pale gray morning. A part of her felt rooted to the spot, yet another part yearned to make her first step toward a new beginning.
Finally, she slung the duffel bag over her shoulder and headed for the airline check-in counter. Soon she’d be in Chicago to meet her friend Ivana Noskova and her father. When she walked by a bank of public pay phones, she stopped and glanced down at her watch. She checked her plane ticket once again and knew she’d have time before her flight took off.
Nikki tossed down her bag and pulled out some coins, but not before she retrieved a special remembrance from her fanny pack. The photo off her desk. It was from her thirteenth birthday, one of the last days she’d been truly happy. She couldn’t leave it behind.
She gazed at the photo and placed the call.
She knew that receiving a call at this time of morning would trigger a sense of panic in most people that something bad had happened—but not Uncle Payton. With him, there was a fifty-fifty chance he’d be home at all. He lived on the lunatic fringe of humanity. A restless soul. Nikki couldn’t resist reaching out to him. She knew why she split from her mother, but Uncle Payton was another story. She hoped he would understand that she had to do this.
As the phone rang, she held her breath. If he answered, she wasn’t sure what she’d say. Mostly, she just wanted to hear his voice, and she wasn’t disappointed.
“I’m screening my calls to avoid someone. Leave a message, but if I don’t call you back, then it’s you.”
A long beep followed Uncle Payton’s gravelly voice. Despite her situation, Nikki smiled at his latest message. And his voice sounded so good. But with a lump in her throat, she clutched the receiver, barely able to speak. A tear slid down her cheek.
