Finding Justice (A Rescue Alaska Mystery Book 1) Read online

  “I’m okay. I’m trying to connect with the boys, but they’re too terrified to let me in. It’s so hard to feel their pain when you can’t offer comfort.”

  “Can’t you shut if off? I can’t imagine allowing myself to actually feel and experience what those boys are.”

  “If I block it, I’ll lose them. I have to hang on. Maybe I can get through to one of them. They don’t have long.”

  “Do you really think you have the ability to do that? To establish a two-way communication?”

  I put my hand over my heart. It felt like it was breaking. “I think so. I hope so. The elderly man who was buried in the avalanche last spring told me that he knew he was in his final moments and all he could feel was terror. Then I connected and he felt at peace. It was that peace that allowed him to slow his breathing. Jordan said the only reason he was still alive when we found him was because he managed to conserve his oxygen.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  I shrugged. I supposed I did feel good about that rescue, but I’d been involved in rescues, such as Val’s, where the victim I connected with didn’t make it. I don’t know why it’s my lot in life to experience death over and over again, but it seems to be my calling, so I try to embrace it so I’m available for the victims I can save, like the old man last spring.

  “The injured one is almost gone,” I whispered. “They need to get to him now.”

  Tears were streaming down my face as I gripped the seat next to me. The pain was excruciating, but I needed to hang on.

  Dani reached over and grabbed my hand. “We’re almost there. I’m preparing to land. Sarge is waiting with Moose.”

  Dani guided the helicopter to the ground despite the storm raging around us. As soon as she landed, I opened the door, hopped out, and ran to the car, where Sarge was waiting with Moose. I pulled Moose into my arms and wept into his thick fur. After several minutes, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I couldn’t know for certain, but I felt as if the boy I was channeling had experienced that same calm. I looked at Sarge. “He’s gone.”

  “I’m so sorry, Harm.”

  “The other one is still alive. He’s on the verge of panicking and running out into the storm. Jake and the others have to get to him.”

  Sarge helped me into the car and we headed toward Neverland, where I knew the fate of the second boy would be revealed before the night was over.

  Chapter 2

  When I arrived home hours later, I was greeted by a variety of dogs and cats. The second teen had lived, and I let myself feel joy in his survival rather than focusing on the sorrow of the other boy’s death. I took a deep breath and hugged Moose to my chest as I let myself into the small house I’d managed to buy with the money I’d inherited when my parents died. Doing what I do, it isn’t easy not to focus on the losses, but I know that doing that will only lead to mental instability and an inability to help those I can.

  “Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late,” I said to the menagerie I lived with after setting Moose onto the hardwood floor. Moose, cranky cat that he is, hissed at Lucy, a mama cat I’d recently rescued. Rescue might not have an animal shelter, but that didn’t stop me from trying to save as many animals as I was able to cram into my limited space.

  Currently, I share my home with five dogs, four cats, six kittens, eight rabbits, and a blind mule named Homer. Homer, two of the dogs, and the rabbits all live in the barn Jake helped me build, but three of the dogs and all the cats shared the three-bedroom house I called home.

  My menagerie began with Moose, who, as I’ve already shared, wandered into the bar and rescued me from the demons who threatened to destroy me. Shortly after I moved into the house, I found a three-legged dog and named him Lucky. I figured the poor guy might have only three legs, but he was pretty darn lucky he’d been able to avoid me running him over when he veered out in front of my Jeep on a dark, snowy night. During the past three years, other animals had come in and out of my life. Some stayed for the long haul and others were adopted to families who were willing and able to provide a safe, loving home.

  After I’d fed the dogs and cats who were housed indoors, I grabbed my rifle and headed outside to care for the animals in the barn. I tilted my head and looked up into the night sky. It was still snowing, and it looked as if the worst of the storm was still ahead of us. I looked back toward the barn and continued on my way.

  “Hey, guys,” I greeted Kodi and Juno, the two Malamutes I’d adopted after their owner passed away. They’d been working sled dogs when they were younger, but both were past the age when they were able to keep up with the younger dogs. When I’d first adopted the pair, I’d tried to acclimate them to the house, but they’d lived in an outdoor kennel their whole lives with the rest of their team, and outdoors was where they preferred to be.

  “I don’t have time to take you out for a run, but I’ll be home tomorrow, so we’ll go for a long snowshoe then. I rescued a skier, and Jake gave me the whole day off to recoup.”

  The dogs seemed to forgive me for my absence when I added a few treats to their dinner. After cleaning their pen and refilling their water, I fed the rabbits and then headed over to see to Homer’s needs. Once everyone was fed, petted, and tucked in, I headed back toward the house. I paused and listened as wolves howled in the distance. The barn was sturdy and I kept it locked at night, but still, I worried the wolves would one day find a way in. The long nights of winter were the most dangerous for domestic animals, as wild prey burrowed in for the winter, leaving the wolves with fewer options.

  I looked out toward the edge of the yard, which was bordered by dense woods. The sound of twigs snapping grabbed my attention. I didn’t sense there was danger, but I could feel a presence. I cocked my rifle and took several steps in the direction of the noise. Although I carried the rifle for protection, I’d never actually had to shoot an animal. In my experience to date, a shot over the head of a predator was enough to send it on its way. Still, I knew how to hit a target and that one day the target I aimed for could be a wolf or a grizzly who wasn’t willing to take no for an answer.

  I was about to turn around when I heard a tiny sound. I knelt in the snow with one hand hovering over the rifle just in case, as a small rabbit made its way toward the edge of the forest. I watched as it looked at me and then hopped away. I hoped he’d burrow in for the night so the wolves, who seemed to be getting closer, wouldn’t find him. I understood the dynamic in which wolves needed to eat to survive, and I didn’t like to think about the beautiful animals starving to death, but I’m such a softie at heart that it pained me to consider the specifics.

  I picked up my rifle and continued into the house. My phone rang just as I entered.

  “Hey, Chloe. What’s up?”

  “I’m calling you back about the shelter. I know you don’t want to discuss Harley Medford, but you know you have to ask him.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. Let’s be honest: It’s more that you won’t.”

  “Okay, then I won’t.” Even as I said the words, my heart constricted in pain as I thought of the strays that littered the town without a haven during the long months of winter. Most winters, more died than lived. I’d saved those I could, but without a shelter to house the rescues, there was only so much I could do.

  “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this. You know he has the resources we need to make the shelter a reality, and given the fact that you two have a history, he might actually do it for you.”

  “The guy’s a famous actor. A very famous actor. He’s worth tens, maybe even hundreds of millions of dollars. I’m sure he doesn’t remember some random girl he used to go to school with a million years ago.”

  “He may not remember some random girl, but I’m sure he remembers the kiss.”

  I tried not to, but I couldn’t keep my own mind from drifting to the memory of that kiss. Harley and I had both been cast in the high school performance of A Christmas Carol when I was in the eleventh grade
and he was in the twelfth. Harley played Ebenezer Scrooge, while I played Belle, a girl from his past. At the time, being cast as Ebenezer’s love interest was the most awesome thing that had ever happened to me. The truth of the matter was, I’d been crushing on Harley for years. During the scene when Belle breaks things off with Ebenezer, we were supposed to hug in a very G-rated way, but somehow, we’d ended up kissing. And what a kiss it was. Every daydream I’d had since that day had centered on that one spectacular kiss. I could still remember the way the world had fallen away and left us isolated in each other’s gaze. We stood suspended in time as a stunned auditorium filled with teachers and parents waited for us to continue with our lines. I honestly couldn’t remember what it was that broke the spell. Most likely it was Principal Bradford having a coronary over the fact that we’d messed up his perfectly orchestrated play. That one kiss on that magical night had turned out to be the last time I’d seen Harley.

  “I’d be willing to bet if Harley’s dad hadn’t been killed in that accident a few days after the play, and his mom hadn’t decided to move away to be near family, you’d have dated the rest of high school and would most likely be married with a couple of kids by now,” Chloe continued when I hadn’t responded.”

  “You really are insane.” I laughed. “Harley Medford is a superstar. He’s dated hundreds of women. In fact, he’s probably most famous for the revolving door of women he’s slept with. I can absolutely guarantee you that Harmony Carson hasn’t been on his radar for a very long time.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Chloe acknowledged. “Maybe he doesn’t remember you. But if you want to be assured of raising the money we need for the shelter, someone needs to ask him to participate in our fund-raiser. You’re the chairperson for the event, and it should be the chairperson who approaches him. We don’t want to look like amateurs.”

  “We are amateurs,” I reminded Chloe.

  “Maybe, but we don’t want to look like amateurs.”

  I sighed. “I’ll think about it. It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. I need to go.”

  “How was the rescue?”

  I felt my heart squeeze as the memory of the pain returned. “We saved one of them. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. If you need to talk, call me.”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  I tried to block the pain in my heart as I returned to my chores. Life in Alaska could be challenging. In the part of the state where Rescue was located, the winters were dark and cold and the summers short. A town the size of Rescue didn’t have the population to support flashy malls, fast-food establishments, or even a movie theater. If you lived in Rescue, you learned to entertain yourself. I was lucky to have Jake and the others on the search-and-rescue team. We were a family who often hung out in the bar Jake owned and I worked. The residents of Rescue might not have access to the latest film or trendiest fads, but the people who lived and loved here were good folks: hardworking and community-oriented.

  Once everyone had been tucked in, I changed my clothes once again and headed into the kitchen. Had I even eaten today? I couldn’t remember. I opened cupboards, looking for inspiration, and eventually settled for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I poured myself a glass of milk and looked out the window. The storm was intensifying. Lucky came over and sat at my feet. I bent down to pet him and offer comfort. The animals I shared my life with possessed a variety of personalities. Some, like Moose, were prickly and mostly wanted to be left alone, while others, like Lucky, were willing to give and receive love.

  The harder the storm blew, the more agitated I became. I rinsed my glass and plate and set them in the sink for a proper washing the following day. I straightened up a bit, checked on Lucy and the kittens, and started a load of laundry, all the while hoping the storm would blow through so I could get some much-needed sleep. Eventually, I pulled on my heavy boots, down jacket, hat, and gloves. I did a final animal check and then headed out to my sixteen-year-old Jeep. I knew it was late and I should go to bed, but I felt restless. Whenever I felt restless, Jake let me bunk with him and Sitka.

  I frowned as I looked at the tires that really should have been replaced at the beginning of the winter. I hadn’t even noticed that one of them had gone flat. I made okay money working as a waitress at the bar, but feeding five dogs, four cats, six kittens, eight rabbits, and a blind mule was expensive. It seemed no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to set aside enough money for luxuries like tires with actual tread on them. I knew I should try to get a second job, but during the winter there weren’t many part-time jobs to be had in places like Rescue.

  I looked out at the storm that continued to intensify, changed direction, and headed inside. I’d have to face the demons that threatened to send me running out into the storm alone. I slipped into the long johns I wore to bed, knowing all the while that sleep would elude me. The storm raged outside my window, sending debris into the side of my little house the way it had the nights my parents and Val had died. I turned off the light and pulled Moose to my chest. Moose was an awesome cat who offered comfort during rescues, as seemed to be his job, but he didn’t like to be cuddled outside working hours and quickly jumped off the bed, slid onto the floor, and crept underneath. I closed my eyes and let the tears slip through my lids. I knew the storm would pass, as others had before, if only I could make it through the night. Each minute that ticked by seemed like an hour. I tossed and turned, praying for slumber that wouldn’t come until I felt the bed give way to a new weight just behind me. I felt a hand slip over my waist and rest across my belly. I gripped the hand that was offered as I finally drifted peacefully into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 3

  Thursday, December 7

  When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I saw was Jake, fully clothed and sleeping on top of the covers next to me. It wasn’t the first time he’d come to my room or I’d gone to his during a storm, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. There was nothing hinky going on between the two of us—he was, after all, my father, brother, and boss all rolled into one—but after Val died, I began having nightmares. During those first horrible months, Jake had begun sleeping in my room so he’d be close by if I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Over time, the nightmares had lessened, only reappearing on the stormiest of nights, and Jake began sleeping in his own room. At least most of the time. Somehow, we both knew there was an open invitation to comfort the other during severe storms. I suspected Jake didn’t just come to me to offer comfort, but to receive it as well. I had lost a sister on that horrific night, but Jake had lost a wife.

  Jake was snoring deeply, so I grabbed my clothes and headed into the bathroom to change. Chances were, if Jake was asleep in my room, his dog, Sitka, would be sleeping outside the door in the hall. I didn’t want to wake Jake, so I bundled up as warmly as I could, grabbed my rifle, and headed out into the frigid morning air to give Sitka and the rest of the household dogs a chance to stretch their legs.

  The storm had passed during the night, leaving a blanket of fresh snow that sparkled as the sun made its way up over the horizon. The snow that glistened in the meadow was unmarked except for the small footprints that could only belong to squirrels. I was about to call the dogs back so we could turn around when a yellow Lab came running toward me from beyond the tree line.

  “Who do we have here?” I asked the dog, who looked to be both malnourished and pregnant. I knelt down in the snow and ran my hand over her ribs and belly. “You poor thing; we need to get some food in you. Things are a bit crowded back at the house, but we can always make room for one more. Will you come with us?”

  The dog didn’t answer, but she followed. When we got back to the house, the coffee was made and I could hear Jake in the bathroom. I fed all the animals, including our visitor, before pouring a cup of coffee for myself and heading outdoors to see to the animals in the barn. By the time I returned, Jake was sitting at the table, sipping his coffee and talking to the do
g I’d found.

  “You should get her in to see Kelly,” Jake suggested, referring to Kelly Austin, the local veterinarian. “She’s so thin. I hope the pups are okay.”

  “I’ll take her there after we eat. Eggs and bacon okay?”

  Jake nodded, and I began preparing breakfast.

  “I’ll change your tire before I go, but you really need new ones.”

  I sighed. “I know. Things have been tight.”

  “I have some used ones in the shed. They’re in a lot better shape than the ones you have. I’ll take your Jeep and you can use my truck to take the dog to the vet. Come by the bar when you’re done and we can trade vehicles.”

  I knew the used tires in Jake’s shed were new ones from the tire center, and I wanted to argue that I could see to my own problems, but I didn’t. The truth of the matter was, I needed new tires and I didn’t have the money to buy them.

  “It looks like there’s going to be another storm rolling in this afternoon,” Jake said when I didn’t respond one way or the other. “I think we should be prepared for the fact that we may be looking at additional rescues. When the morning starts off sunny and beautiful and the storm rolls in unannounced, we always end up with backcountry skiers who aren’t prepared.”

  “I know the drill.”

  “Are you up for it?”

  I paused and looked directly at him. “It doesn’t seem I have a choice in these things. Maybe you should plan to close the bar. We’ll need the space for the command center.”

  “I’ll also call to remind the radio station to warn folks about the coming storm.”

  Jake left shortly after we ate and I headed in to take a shower and dress for the day.

  ******

  It was less than three weeks until Christmas, and the general store at the corner of the main street and the highway was covered with so many lights, I was certain it was keeping the astronauts in the International Space Station awake at night. I knew Greta Garbo—yes, that was her real name—would have decorated every surface in the quaint, log cabin–style store, which sold everything from touristy keepsakes to snow boots, hats, and snow shovels, as well as canned food, penny candy, and pharmaceutical supplies. Greta’s slogan was, If you need it, we got it, and most times she did.