The Season of Killing by Leigh Mayberry (reading books for 4 year olds .txt) 📗

Neil circled the machine a few times. Meghan gave him a ‘thumbs up,’ and she saw his face grinning out the cockpit porthole. Then he flew away.

“Where’s he going?” Matthew asked panicked.

“He radioed our location. He can’t land safely out here,” Meghan explained. “They’re coming over the tundra for us.”

It took a few hours once the plane departed, and the wind across the valley picked up. They heard the growl of snowmobiles before they saw any lights. The sound bounced off the distant mountains, making it hard to pinpoint which direction they approached.

Eventually, the flickering lights approached from the north, as far as Meghan understood directionality. She counted six headlights. When they rode up to the campsite, Meghan had the rifle lying over her lap, sitting on the Polaris saddle, facing the campfire. The backpack slung over her shoulders.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said. “Someone tell me you found Lester.”

Matthew had carved out a cozy area for them to wait. It included the high snow walls for breakers, as well as the roaring campfire. She saw helmets instead of faces.

“He and Norman are good. They’re taking Norman to Kinguyakkii,” Edmond York said. “I guess they’re going to airlift him to Anchorage.”

***

By the time Meghan got back to Kinguyakkii, she had learned she and Matthew were halfway between Noorvik and the city of northern lights, and nowhere near Elephant Point.

Meghan rode with York while her prisoner rode with another rescuer. She wanted to get home. By the time they crossed Hotham Inlet, it was after seven on Friday morning. They rode directly to the police department, where Meghan saw a state pickup truck usually housed at the government hanger at the airport.

When she marched her prisoner through the front door of the department, ahead of the other search and rescue team, she counted three large Alaska State Troopers waiting for her. In full uniform, along with the side arms, bulletproof vests, and winter gear designed for law enforcement, they looked like military professionals.

Meghan recognized Trooper Chandler; a tall, handsome African American man who was a pilot as well as a Trooper on the North Slope. He transported Tommy Bartlett, accused murderer in a case involving a hairdresser and a boat captain. She shrugged off the backpack and handed it to the Trooper.

“Can I get a receipt for this, Trooper Chandler?” she asked.

He gave her that dynamite smile. Her interaction with him was always brief and respectful. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said. “We’ll secure Mr. Anuun for a trip back to Anchorage on the first flight out. Trooper Paulson and I are heading out to Noorvik to finish our investigation.” It wasn’t a dig at Meghan’s ability. The Alaska State Troopers needed to show a presence in the village.

“Do me a favor,” she said. “See if you can rattle some trees out there. They got a fresh shipment of booze.”

He nodded. Bootlegging during the holidays was a big business. People paid more money for the joy of alcohol during New Year’s celebration.

Matthew got passed over to the other two troopers waiting in the lobby of the police station while Meghan slipped through the small swinging door that separated the front counter from the ‘Authorized Personnel’ area beyond. She began removing winter gear, trying to get down to her denim pants, where she had a set of keys.

The aromatic luxury of fresh brewed coffee made her mouth water.

“What’s wrong, Riley?” she asked the rookie.

“Um, nothing.” He stood near the large conference table in the middle of the department. He didn’t stop looking at Meghan. She tried to ignore him.

“Want some coffee, Chief?” Oliver asked in his nonchalant way.

“Yes, Sergeant Henry, I would love a cup of coffee, thank you.”

Oliver walked to Riley and nudged him to fetch Meghan’s coffee.

She struggled with the snow pants over the jeans. Her grip opened with the keys, and Meghan unlocked her office door. She wandered inside the small office that faced the rest of the situation room, including the coffee station on the other side of the enormous conference table. Riley quickly managed her mug.

She stripped off the heavy parka; let it fall to the floor. Shedding the bunny boots, Meghan peeled off the wet socks. She shrugged her hips out of the snow pants. It all went in a pile on the floor.

Meghan ignored the troopers discussing business in the lobby. Oliver stepped out of the doorway long enough for Riley to place the hot mug on the desk. He treaded to the lobby. Oliver stood sentinel in the office doorway.

When she dropped into the office chair, the pain and cold that encapsulated her limbs began to melt. The heat of the building, the scent of coffee, the busyness of the business felt like home.

“I had them get your stuff from Noorvik and shipped back on the first available plane.”

Meghan placed her hand on the laptop. It was ready for her volumes of reports, along with the backpack. Both waited inside the office. Oliver and Lester were the only other people who had a key to her office. She saw a festive collection of plastic-wrapped candy canes hanging from the neck of the desk lamp.

While she wanted to put on a fresh pair of socks, instead, Meghan pulled her exhausted body from the chair. She padded barefoot back out of her office and across the room to the small bathroom.

The face in the mirror that greeted Meghan had tundra layered on it. Dirt and soot-covered her face. Her wavy coppery hair lost its normal accountable state of natural layering. Instead, nature pulled it across her scalp, knotted it, and tangled it around her shoulders. The bottle-green color she typically saw in her eyes had turned a little chartreuse.

Meghan groaned at the image. She ran hot water in the sink to wash