As she looked at the image, she recalled a recent History Channel show about the civil war in the former Yugoslavia. Her attention had been drawn to it because she knew that Marcus had been to that part of the world many times. In the show, they mentioned that the Kosovar Muslims had sided with the Nazi invaders in order to defeat the Serbian-controlled government. Adem, Lonnie surmised, may very likely be the progeny of a German soldier’s liaison with his Kosovar grandmother.
She switched to the other picture. It was of a very stern-looking man with dark features who looked like a mix of Eastern European and Turkish. Framed by a matte of thick, black hair and a heavy uni-brow, hateful eyes stared into the camera above lips that curled in a snarl.
“This guy is freaky,” Stark said. “Nikola Nousiri, an Albanian national verified to be part of the Islamic Brotherhood of the Sword, an assassin according to CIA and FBI reports. He is supposed to be dead. The son of a bitch was killed in gun battle with Homeland Security last summer in Seattle. His body was burned to a crisp and half decapitated but they claim to have positively identified him.”
Commander Stark rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “I’m getting too old for this crap, Wyatt. I don’t like it when dead men leave fingerprints on a crime scene after they’ve been in the ground for the last six months.”
She looked up from the pictures. “So, do we have any leads as to where the two men went last night after killing Beed?”
“No leads.” Stark shook his head. “I want you to take these two pictures out to Salt Jacket and check with the men who claim they saw them. Verify that the faces in the pictures are the men they saw yesterday.”
“Yes, sir,” Lonnie replied. “Um, Balsen said Johnson was going to be out running his trap line for a couple of days. He may not be available.”
“If you can’t find him, the other two should be good enough until he gets back. I want all the info we can get on these two.”
“Sir?” Lonnie asked with a note of discomfort in her voice. “Can someone else interview Johnson, maybe even take over management of the case?”
“No.” Stark looked into her eyes with a hard, commanding stare. He softened his expression and continued in a calmer voice. “Lonnie, I am aware of the relationship between you and Mr. Johnson. Don’t let your personal feelings get in the way of this case. Keep it professional, and everything should work out fine. You got the case because you were on patrol in that area when it started. You are keeping the case because you are one of the best investigative troopers I have, and I know you will keep at it until it’s solved, no matter what. You will stay on this assignment, and you will keep it quiet as much as possible. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Now, get out there. Call me as soon as you find anything new.”
“Yes, sir.”
Trooper Wyatt left the city and drove east on the Richardson Highway. By 1630, she was nearly at the gate of Eielson when a white Jeep passed in the opposite direction, going nearly eighty miles per hour. Under normal circumstances, she would have immediately swung around and pulled the driver over to serve a ticket. These were not normal circumstances, and she let the driver go.
Chapter 13
Lonnie pulled into the Salt Jacket General Store just before 17:00. Tia Balsen, Linus and Cara’s cute eleven-year-old daughter, sat behind the counter, blonde pigtails bouncing rhythmically as she bobbed her head to a teenybopper song on the radio. The loud jingling of the bell above the door startled Tia. She let out a squeaky little surprised yelp as Trooper Wyatt entered.
“Hi,” Lonnie said. She removed the tall smoky hat to make herself look less intimidating. “Are your parents here?”
“Yes, ma’am, they’re in the back,” the girl replied. Her eyes scanned slowly over the female trooper in front of her. Starting at Lonnie’s face, the girl ran her gaze down her uniform until it became fixed on the pistol hanging tightly on her right hip. At that point, Tia’s gaze froze, eyes wide with amazement and fear.
Lonnie cleared her throat, causing the girl to snap her stare back up to her face.
“Could you tell them Trooper Wyatt is here?”
“Oh, yes…yes, ma’am. Just a minute.” The girl climbed off the tall wooden stool on which she had been perched. She turned off the radio from which emanated the shrill sound of a very young teenaged girl singing some impossibly high note that only the ears of an adolescent could distinguish as music. Tia trotted several steps to the door that lead to the living quarters in the back of the store.
“Dad! Mom!” she shouted with a voice that seemed inhumanly loud for such a small body. “There’s a trooper lady out here to see you!”
Tia walked back to the counter and took her place on the stool. From her seat, the girl resumed staring at Lonnie.
“You are very pretty for a trooper,” Tia said. “I didn’t know they had pretty troopers.”
“Why, thank you, Tia.”
The girl’s mouth dropped open. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m am an old friend of your parents. I knew you when you were a little baby.”
“Wow,” Tia replied, staring into the trooper’s face. “You must be old.”
Lonnie smiled at the girl’s blunt remark. “Yes. I am. Old beyond my years.”
The girl made a quizzical face, but before she could say anything else, Linus and Cara both entered the store.
“Lonnie!” Cara cried out as she ran forward and gave her old friend a
