They trod as quietly as possible into the dark forest, searching through the drenching weather and listening for the sound of footsteps running, escaping. But Jeremy had vanished. They hunted doggedly for at least twenty more minutes before they finally gave up and returned, soaking wet, to the police cruiser. They got in and removed their hats.
“I told you he was slippery,” Joe said. “Why didn’t you have my back?”
“You told me to close the shed door.”
Joe turned the key in the ignition, but nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing.
“The battery’s probably dead,” Edwards said matter-of-factly, “because you left the headlights on.”
“No kidding.” Joe rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “That rotten little sneak.”
After a moment, he took a few deep breaths and watched the rain slide down the windshield.
Edwards spoke dejectedly. “The lights are on in the kitchen. I’ll go and see if Mr.Jacobson has some jumper cables.”
He didn’t wait for Joe to agree or disagree. He simply got out of the car and ran to the front door. But Joe wasn’t ready to move yet. He needed a moment to get his frustration under control and ride out the humiliation of this wretched night.
CHAPTER 13
Juneau
2017
Walking into the Alaskan Hotel bar was like stepping into a time machine.
Gwen arrived fifteen minutes early for her meeting with Jeremy Mikhailov and took a moment to inspect her surroundings—ornate late-Victorian woodwork, patterned wallpaper, stained glass, and red lightbulbs in the fixtures that harkened back to the location’s history as a brothel at one time.
She chose a table close to the small stage, where the walls were papered with entertainment flyers. She removed her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair, then approached the young woman tending the bar. She wore a name tag that said Margie, and she was exceptionally pretty with long, wavy red hair.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
“A glass of white wine. Pinot grigio if you have it.”
She seemed thrown. “Hmm ... there might be an open bottle out back.” She left the bar to check, but Gwen stopped her before she got too far.
“Never mind. I’ll just have a beer. What do you have on tap?”
Margie listed off the selections, and Gwen chose a local beer. She carried it back to her table, dug out her notepad and pen, and set them in front of her.
The front door opened, and Gwen felt a pang of nervousness, but it was only Peter. He winked as he passed and went straight to a small table at the back. He removed his rain jacket, then approached the bar and ordered a beer.
Gwen sat alone, scrolling through emails on her phone, pretending to be reading them. But she was far too tense to focus on correspondence of any kind. She didn’t know what to expect from Jeremy. Mostly she was afraid he wouldn’t show.
The door opened again, and a small group of tourists in brightly colored rain jackets strolled in. They talked and laughed and were eager to try the peanut butter whiskey. Margie poured a row of shots.
Gwen kept her head down and sipped her beer, waiting and waiting. Eventually she looked at the time. It was 5:10 p.m.
By now she was convinced that Jeremy wasn’t coming. She met Peter’s gaze across the room and shook her head. She mouthed the words, “He’s not coming,” just as the door opened and an older man walked in. He wasn’t tall, but he was fit and slender. He wore a navy puffer jacket with blue jeans and a gray scarf tied around his neck. His hair was gray, but there was plenty of it, thick and wavy.
Gwen laid her phone down and sat up straighter in her chair, but the man didn’t look at her. He went straight to the bar and spoke to Margie as if he knew her well. She nodded and tossed her head in Gwen’s direction, then poured him a glass of scotch, straight up.
At last, he approached Gwen’s table. “Are you Gwen Hollingsworth?”
“Yes.” Feeling overly eager, she reached out to shake his hand. “You must be Jeremy. It’s nice to meet you.”
He shook her hand, then set his glass on the table and shrugged out of his jacket. He draped it on the back of the chair and sat down across from her.
“You’ve come a long way,” he said. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you don’t have any other business in Juneau, except to talk to me.”
