“What?”
“You don’t seem too excited at the prospect of finding a human skeleton on your watch.”
Liam shrugged and stood up. “For one thing, it might not be human.” He walked over to the pitiful little pile of bones and folded them back up into the towel. “Before I try to fit through a crack Kyle couldn’t get his head through, I’d like to find out if that really is what we have here.”
McGuire’s eyebrows went up. “You think it isn’t?”
“Absolutely no doubt Kyle believes it is,” Liam said. He raised the package. “The bones definitely look like disconnected phalanges to me, and I’ve seen a few in my time.”
“But?”
“But animal bones have been mistaken for human bones many a time, especially bear bones and especially in Alaska.”
“Who can say for sure?”
“I’m guessing Erik Berglund can. I’ll give him a call in the morning. If he still doesn’t answer, I’ll ask Ms. Petroff to find someone.”
“Who?”
“Trust me, she’ll know.”
Eleven
Wednesday, September 4
LIAM WOKE UP IN HIS OWN BED WITH HIS arms wrapped around his own wife for the second glorious morning in a row. Her back was warm against his chest, her breast rose and fell against his arm, her curls tickled his nose, the skin of her neck was soft against his lips. He was in that moment utterly, completely content.
And then his phone rang. Still the boy band but they both jumped anyway. “If it’s Barton tell him I’m coming for him,” Wy mumbled into her pillow. “With extreme prejudice.”
He groped for his cell and squinted at the screen. It was Barton. It was also six a.m. He turned the phone off and tossed it down somewhere. He might have heard it hit the floor and since it was the property of the state of Alaska he should have been more concerned, but there was nothing more important in his life than curling his body around Wy’s and luxuriating in this moment.
Wy yawned. “What time is it?”
“Six a.m.”
“Must have been important.”
“Not necessarily. And I don’t care.”
He heard the smile in her voice. “If you’re about to get fired I’d better step up the effort to find a new job.”
“Take your time. No one else wanted this post, and I’m starting to figure out why.”
She rolled onto her back and stretched. “Stand by one.” She visited the bathroom and he enjoyed the view afforded by both trips. She snuggled in beneath the covers, tucking her head beneath his chin. He could feel her breath on his collarbone when she spoke. “Tell me.”
“Well, for starters, there’s Ms. Petroff, my administrative aide. Hired by Barton and in the office long before I got here. She’s from across the Bay and seems to know the Bay chapter and verse. I hope I am speaking metaphorically there but I’m not quite sure. She is almost terrifyingly efficient.”
“And local, so she’ll know everyone.”
“Yes, including one Mrs. Karlsen, a self-described torch singer, who showed up at the post looking for a lift to the bar she sings at.”
Wy yawned and snuggled closer. “A torch singer.”
“Indeed. I should probably add that she is retired and that the bar she sang at closed thirty years ago. Also, there seems to be some indication that Sybilla sang in the nude, because she was certainly prepared to go to work that way.”
There was a momentary silence, and Liam felt her go very still. “I beg your pardon?”
He grinned into her hair. “Sybilla is in her eighties and lives at Sunset Heights, which Ms. Petroff gives me to understand is assisted living. She says it isn’t Sybilla’s first escape attempt.”
“You might have to pay them a call to discuss their security measures.”
“And I would, except Sunset Heights is within the Blewestown city limits, and Chief Armstrong, with whom I had lunch, has given me to understand that my writ does not carry within those limits. I am to confine myself to infractions committed within the jurisdiction of the state.”
She did raise her head at that, and he smoothed back the tangle of curls. “You’re kidding.”
“Not in so many words, but that was the distinct impression I was given, and most deliberately so.”
“Huh.”
“Eloquently put. Further investigation is required, but for now I’m on my own. He volunteered no information, either, so I’ll have to rely entirely on state records and whatever I can dredge out of the Soldotna post. I’m hoping they’ll be a little friendlier.”
“You’d think.”
“And then I dropped in on the local judge, who offered me a shot of Glenlivet, so naturally I’m already inclined to think kindly of her, or I was until she told me I couldn’t beat up anybody.”
She wriggled up to put her head on the pillow next to his so she could see him. “You don’t beat up people.”
“What I told her.”
“And her reply?”
“She asked me if I’d been through the course at the academy, and then wanted to know when I’d taken my last refresher.”
“Insulting.”
“A little,” he said. “But only a little. Excessive force is not a joke and it’s not the worst thing for a judge to be concerned about.” He hesitated.
“What?”
“I don’t know, I guess I—I’m wondering where that came from. If the judge was moved enough by the issue to warn me off before I even pulled someone over for a broken taillight…”
“You think the local LEOs trend that way?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I hope not.” He shifted restlessly and changed the subject. “What’s on your agenda for today?”
“Check on the aircraft. Maybe wander around the lake, poke my head into the air taxis and flightseeing companies.”
“I saw what looked like an FBO north of the terminal.”
“With a G-2 parked in front of it, yeah. I’m not looking for a job on the ground. Especially not one where I have to cater to people who have more money
