Lost in the Wild by Leigh Mayberry (some good books to read .TXT) 📗

Detective Gregory Anderson was an Alaska State Trooper investigator for the Violent Crimes Division based out of Anchorage, Alaska. Anderson was Meghan’s first random contact within the troopers during her first murder investigation in Kinguyakkii. Anderson wasn’t her point of contact in the troopers. It was something she learned to regret later, but his ranking over Sergeant Reeve meant Meghan didn’t need to step through the channels to get to the person she first had to report. Reeve hated her for it. It made him look incompetent.

“I think it is ridiculous that people care more about their careers than solving a crime. Murder is more important than another chevron on a sleeve,” Meghan said. She’d held in that tidbit for years. It felt good to get it off her chest.

“So, you quit because you solved how many violent crimes in Kin guy kiki?” Anderson said.

He had to draw out the name because he wasn’t from Alaska and it didn’t matter how many years someone lived in the environment, he didn’t work to speak the dialect. Sometimes people could roll their tongues speaking Spanish, sometimes they couldn’t. At least, he tried to pronounce it right.

“I didn’t quit, Reeve made it clear I was terminated. He suggested the feds were looking to arrest me for assault.”

“Seems to me, you took it a little too far,” he mumbled.

Meghan sucked in a deep breath. For most men across the planet, it was impossible for them to sympathize with what it meant to be groped by unwanted hands. It was the kind of thing them might empathize, but Meghan knew men were a basic creature and the idea of touching a woman’s ass appealed to more of them than they cared to admit. She held back because she didn’t want to lash out at Anderson. Not when he gave her a ride up north. They had an hour in the car together. It smelled like beef and cheese, probably from one of the many fast-food bags in the back seat Meghan saw, but he was a friend.

“I might have overreacted,” she mumbled. It was true. If the cadet needed pistol certification, it was likely a long time before he’d gain full use of his right hand again. There was a devilish delight in the idea he’d remember Meghan every time his wrist or thumb ached.

“I don’t think Emanuel is very happy with you making a citizen’s arrest either,” Anderson said.

“I did what?” It was news to her.

“I got a copy of the complaint from Acting Chief Lester Graves. Reeve passed it to me because we had another homicide attached to it, something that wasn’t on the books.”

“Oh,” Meghan said. It was the most she wanted to talk about it.

It made sense suddenly. To keep the heat off Meghan, Lester drafted the arrest report as a witness to a citizen’s arrest case. The Alaska statue allows a peace officer or a private person without a warrant to arrest someone for crimes committed in their presence. Or if they have reasonable belief the person committed a felony, even if they weren’t present. Of course, it meant the private citizen had to use nonlethal means to subdue the suspect. Meghan’s knee and shin kicking weren’t lethal or permanent.

“We got the guy on murdering his brother and the disappearance of that little girl.” Anderson rolled his shoulders in the seat. He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. “I don’t think there’s enough evidence to charge the guy with killing the girl.”

“I don’t think that will matter.” She felt Anderson’s eyes on her. Meghan glanced at him in the ambient interior glow of the Dodge.

“I didn’t expect to hear you say something like that,” he said. “I know you like to keep things close to the chest sometimes. I’m not questioning why you have me going out to the valley so late on a Saturday night. I know it’s your way of a surprise.”

“It’s not a surprise. I’m not trying to be vague.” Meghan stared at the darkness across the Palmer Hay Flats. The wild protected lands stretched like fertile plains from the skirt of the mountains overshadowing Eagle River on Meghan’s right. The great swampy flatland extended beyond the Knik River that snaked through the landscape.

The Chugiak Mountains butted against the Parks Highway headed north into the valley that went on for miles, a midnight jagged black under a starry sky. Sometimes, in the right light, the right time of day, commuters saw Denali Mountain peak. Once known as Mount McKinley, it was North America’s highest mountain. It was five hours north of Anchorage, and nothing but a black smudge on an inky skyline at that time of night.

Meghan took a breath again, fighting sleepiness.

“Lester and I visited Joane Tuktu while she and her boyfriend dealt with the loss of a child. I see Cecil, their thirteen-year-old son isn’t handling the girl’s disappearance the way he should,” Meghan said.

“What do you think?”

“Well, right now it’s all speculation. And who am I to judge how a child deals with the loss of a sibling. I’m following a hunch that’s cost me the price of a plane ticket, and a ride in a car with a friend.” Meghan included the description to reinforce her relationship with Gregory Anderson. She knew he was another man who resisted the urge to put his hand on her backside.

“Cecil came to me at the Memorial Day celebration last Saturday night. Cecil told me he couldn’t find Christine. I remember seeing him spending a long time looking for his sister at the dance. As soon as she heard Cecil, Dana Wyatt stepped in and took over.”

“I heard a little about your friend.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame her for the fast response. We had the Amber Alert active within an hour after we