She needed to focus on what she would do when he left. And that meant finding a better job and potentially day care. And hopefully wages that would allow that to work. Online or work from home would be the best.
On that note, she put on the teakettle and headed to her laptop with Sari at her side. “Don’t you worry, little one. Mommy’s got this.”
Weston headed into town, wondering what he was supposed to do, but knowing that staying there in a comfy cozy family setting was both a draw he couldn’t really afford to let distract him and yet something he didn’t want to resist. He had brought up a parental relationship earlier in his discussion with Daniela, but his mind was already going further into the relationship area. It made no sense, but he didn’t know if it was his daughter—which was the sweetest sounding word he’d ever heard—or if it was Daniela herself. She was one seriously attractive woman, both outside and inside.
No doubt he could succumb to that whole sweet family setting, but she wasn’t his wife, and, although he felt Sari was his daughter, legally she wasn’t. It was a screwed-up deal, and it was playing with his head. He really liked what he saw and loved how he felt, but that didn’t make any of it a reality.
As he drove into town, his first stop was a grocery store, where he picked up steaks. With the temperature in Anchorage in July well above freezing, he also picked up a small cooler and some ice, because it’d be hours before he returned home. Shambhala was more than interested in the package. When he returned to the truck, he put the meat and the ice into the cooler, and placed it and a few other necessities behind the seat, safely out of the dog’s way.
Hopping back into the truck, he and Shambhala headed to the police station. When he walked in, he asked if he could see the detective. He’d sent a message earlier but hadn’t received a response. The front desk contacted the detective, and, sure enough, while Weston stood here waiting in the small front office, Detective Kruger came through an inner door. He motioned for Weston to follow him.
As they headed in to his office, he offered a seat. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“Sure,” Weston said with a smile. He had Shambhala at his side, and she lay down at his feet. She seemed completely unconcerned being in the office with him. And the detective hadn’t had a problem either apparently.
When the detective came back though, he noticed the dog for the first time. “I forgot she went home with you,” he said. “I still think of her as Grant’s.”
“But you took Grant away, and I couldn’t leave the dog there.”
“Agreed,” the detective said. “Grant has been released, by the way.”
That was news to Weston. “Interesting. No reason to hold him?”
“Not yet,” he said. “His story is beyond odd, but, even though he’s a twin, his DNA will still be unique.”
“I wondered if anybody would know Grant or the brother enough to identify which one may have died.”
“I’m not sure,” the detective said with a frown. “It’s possible, but I don’t have much of a list.” He pulled the file toward him and opened it. “Ginger had more friends than Grant did.”
“Before they went homesteading, did either of them work in town?”
“Grant used to work at the feedstore, actually.”
“You’d think he would have stayed part-time while he was homesteading,” Weston said. “It’s not like a whole lot of money is in homesteading.”
“No, but Grant wasn’t exactly one of the hardest-working people I know either. Still, he did do a lot of work on the house, and he had taken a job up north to bring in more money, so he was stepping up.” He thought about the dog then. “After the accident, I’m not surprised Shambhala went to the feedstore, since she would have known some of the guys there.”
“You’re right. The dog is fairly identifiable with a missing leg, not to mention the eye.”
“Exactly.”
Weston frowned. “Mind if I go back to the feedstore and talk to them?”
“Feel free,” the detective said. “But, as far as we’re concerned, we don’t really have any reason to exhume the other body, and we don’t have any reason to suspect that this person is anyone other than Grant.”
“Maybe, but then you have a body buried under the wrong name.”
The detective shrugged. “Grant does want the name on the stone changed.”
Weston sat back and thought about that. “That’s just way too convenient for my taste,” he announced.
“Mine too,” the detective agreed. “But budgetary constraints come into play here.”
“What about Ginger’s family?”
“As far as I know, she’s a local gal. Her parents passed away a few years back. I don’t think she has any siblings.”
“What about children?”
“I think she does have one or two. From a previous marriage. I’ve spoken to her ex-husband, and he’s told his family. Why?”
“Just wondering if they were old enough to be a factor here. If we do know for sure Gregory died in the accident,” he said, “you’re not exhuming and looking for a cause of death?”
“An autopsy wasn’t done at the time because the crash was a fairly obvious cause of death,” the detective said. “I doubt the kids are involved. They don’t have anything to do with their mother and aren’t in the will.”
“Sure, but now it seems you’re closer
