“Eugene Tuktu, city police,” Meghan called.
It was a single-level house on stilts like the majority of the residences and businesses. She saw down the hallway to the kitchen in the back of the house. To the right, the open living room with another entry to the kitchen from the right side. The bathroom parked between the front door and the hallway, with two of the three bedrooms to the left. One on the right of the hall before the wet wall separated the kitchen and bathroom.
She saw some dirty clothes on the worn-out chair in the living room. She saw a collection of footwear in the hallway. The boots were all adult size, all men, as far as Meghan noticed. She closed the door and sat on the porch, facing Lester leaning against the Polaris. Across the city, volunteers, the FBI, and state troopers went door to door searching for the missing child. The search didn’t include Meghan. She felt like an outcast. Unlike Lester, who happily got out of the duty listening to people who all thought their ideas were better than anyone else.
“Do you think I did everything I should?” Meghan asked. She closed the door again.
“Do you feel like you should do more?”
“Listen, Dr. Graves, if I wanted a psychologist, I’d hang out with Oliver. I’m asking you as my friend. Look at this situation and tell me if we’re doing everything right.” She sat on the steps.
Meghan pulled off her ski cap and squinted in the sunlight. They had a few more hours before the sun slipped below the mountains on the other side of Kinguyakkii Sound. Snow clung to areas around the houses that saw mostly shadows throughout the day. The rest of the ground had that after winter, ugly look, made up of dead grass and black mud.
“I think your friend caused a lot of problems for us to do a proper investigation. We’re playing catch up, and if something happened to Christine because of someone else, we’re way behind now.”
“I know I have no excuse for her. She sees me as a failure. She and I go way back, and now that she’s here, I wish she’d go way back to New York. I am sorry for her taking over like she did.”
“We can use all the help we can get. You remember it isn’t about how many chiefs we have. It’s about finding a child.”
Meghan looked up at the porch roof and then took in the rest of the portico. Eugene had reinforced the columns with new beams. New joists under the porch flooring stood on the newer elevated concrete footing with level piers. It was a professional job with the right materials, on an adequate house.
“Why don’t Joane and Earl live here with the kids?” Meghan asked.
“Maybe she doesn’t get along with Eugene.”
“Maybe,” Meghan said.
Living with the brother of a dead husband might get a little sticky. Then again, they lived in a cramped apartment with two kids. If she knew anything about family in Alaska, they usually stuck together through the worst of times. Finances were incredibly tight for many people in rural Alaskan communities.
She watched as a group of volunteers and one FBI cadet walked up the street with them. Meghan made eye contact with the cadet. He had a look of disappointment on his face but held back saying anything to her. Meghan didn’t want to think he saw her as lazy. She sat on a random porch of a vacant house.
“You have a radio?” she asked.
The cadet gave away the location of the radio with a shift of his right hand. He closed the distance between them. Meghan stood and eyed the eight villagers who walked with the cadet. It was a group of elders and two adolescents. She recognized four of them.
“Special Agent in Charge Wilcox, this is Chief Sheppard.”
“Go head, Sheppard.”
“Call my cell, please.”
“10-4,” Wilcox’s voice had a faraway and authoritative edge.
“Thank you,” she said. Meghan handed the two-way radio back to the cadet. She watched the civilians mumbling to each other behind them. As Meghan pulled the smartphone from the inner coat pocket, it buzzed.
The cadet moved off with the rest of the volunteers.
“You might want to put Eugene Tuktu as a person of interest.”
“We attempted contact with Mr. Tuktu this morning about forty minutes ago.”
“Eugene’s not at his residence. His four-wheeler isn’t here. He may be out hunting. Might want to find out if anyone saw Eugene at the gym last night,” she said. Meghan considered her capacity in the investigation. Dana minimized her authority. Telling the senior agent in charge of how to handle his business wasn’t a wise way to keep her badge when the case closed.
“Will do, Chief, thank you.”
“We’re going to run over to Tent City and see if anyone saw Eugene. A lot of the hunters from the outlining communities stay there when the hotel is overbooked.”
“Is that location marked on the survey maps we used?”
“No, but it’s northeast of town. You take the road as far as it goes. You’ll see two oil drums mark the trailhead that leads to the inlet.”
“Thank you again, Chief Sheppard.”
“We’ll take a run along Cape Blossom Road,” Meghan said. “It’s the nature—”
“That’s fine, Chief. Keep me posted.” Wilcox ended the call.
Meghan felt a pang of guilt or embarrassment. It was the kind of feeling she got as a child when adults scolded her for something trivial. Wilcox had multi-facets of a job with several people looking to him. She was out of the loop.
Meghan looked at the house again as Lester climbed on the four-wheeler and started it.
“Can you call the title companies on Tuesday to find out who owns the house,” Meghan said.
“Doesn’t Eugene own it?” Lester said
