“Was it?” he replied. “Or maybe I was just trying to avoid Jeremy’s retaliation. Maybe that’s the problem around here. People are afraid ofhim, so he gets away with things he shouldn’t get away with. Heaven help you if you call the cops on him. He might throw a brick through your front window the next day.”
TheWandererbumped up against the dock, and Blaine asked Valerie to go outside and toss the lines to Maud.
“How was the tour?” she called out.
“Spectacular!” Valerie replied.
As soon as Blaine cut the engine, the distant roar of Jeremy’s motorboat caught her attention. She turned and scanned the water for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. The outboard motor went silent, and she suspected he had disappeared into a cove somewhere.
She decided she would do her best to avoid Jeremy Mikhailov, because she had enough problems in her life. She couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes, and the last thing she needed was trouble.
CHAPTER 8
Juneau
May 2017
Gwen and Peter checked in to separate rooms at the Alaskan Hotel, a Victorian-style landmark in Juneau’s downtown historic district, built during the Alaska gold rush.
Gwen entered her room using the key provided by the front desk clerk. She laid her carry-on suitcase on one of two narrow twin beds, then glanced around at the furnishings and carpet beneath her feet. The room was clean, and the linens were fresh, but there was something that felt haunted by ghosts from another century.
A knock sounded at her open door, and she jumped.
“Sorry,” Peter said from the doorway. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She laughed. “I was just imagining ghosts appearing after dark. Please come in.”
He entered and looked around. “It’s quite a place, isn’t it?”
“Sure is. I can’t wait to see the bar. I’m picturing saloon girls and red velvet fainting couches. Funny that Jeremy suggested it.”
“Why do you say that?” Peter asked.
She unzipped her suitcase and found her makeup and toiletries. “I don’t know. I guess I imagined meeting him in a biker bar or a pool hall on the outskirts of town.”
Peter remained just inside the door. “We have four hours until he arrives. Want to get a bite to eat? We could try the Red Dog Saloon. It’s close by.”
“That sounds appropriate, and I’m hungry. Just give me a few minutes to freshen up.”
Her cell phone rang just then. “Shoot. I hope it’s not Jeremy calling to cancel.” She dug her phone out of her purse, checked the display, and saw that it was Eric.
Gwen stared at the screen for a few seconds, feeling fixed to the spot. The last thing she wanted was to hear that he’d decided to get engaged after all and she needed to call a lawyer because he wanted to start divorce proceedings.
Perhaps, in coming to Alaska, she’d wanted to escape that part of her life for a while—to stick her head in the sand, essentially, because the thought of losing Eric for good made her feel sick to her stomach.
“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, breaking the spell.
“It’s Eric.”
Peter took a slight step back, his eyes losing the spark from only seconds ago. “I’ll let you take that. Come and get me when you’re done.”
She nodded and finally answered the call. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Eric said. “I was just about to leave a message.”
“Sorry,” she replied, closing the door behind Peter. “The phone was at the bottom of my purse,” she lied.
“Ah.” He paused. “So ... what’s up?”
