Alaska Twilight - Part 5
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Part 5

"Can we a.s.semble it in the tree?" She smiled, but her tone was half-serious.

"You'll be fine. I brought wind chimes to make a racket, and you've got Oscar to protect you. They may be curious and check you out, and that's okay. Kipp wants that to happen so he can video them for the doc.u.mentary." He dumped the little dog out of his backpack. Oscar went to Haley and jumped into her lap.

"I'll gather some wood," Augusta said.

"I brought some protein bars." Haley rummaged in her pack. "Anyone else want one?"

"I'll take one." Tank knelt to begin a.s.sembling the tent.

Haley stroked the dog's head while her grandmother began to pick up wood. Haley's steady gaze never left Tank as he put their tents together. He piled rocks into a firepit.

"Why do we need a fire? It feels pretty warm today," she said.

"The smell will tell the bears we're here and keep the mosquitoes bearable, no pun intended." He grinned.

Her nervous laugh was too loud. Her gaze darted toward the thick forest of spruce. Was that a shudder? She didn't say anything, but she got up and began to pick up small logs at the edge of the clearing, though he noticed she didn't step into the forest itself. The pile she started by the firepit grew steadily. Dusting her hands on her jeans, she sat on a log. "Anything else?"

Before he could answer, a shriek rang out. It sounded like Augusta. The sheer horror in her voice made him fumble for the can of bear spray fastened to his waist. "Stay here!" he told Haley.

"Augusta!" She already had her can of bear spray in her hand. Though her eyes were dark and wide with terror, she s.n.a.t.c.hed up her walking stick and ran after him. She matched him step for step as he ran toward the river. Brambles barred their path, and he thrashed through them and held them back for Haley. They broke free from the th.o.r.n.y shrubs and stumbled onto the mud that surrounded the river.

Augusta stood with her hands over her eyes. Kipp and Denny stood with their arms over their chests. They were staring at something on the ground. Haley ran to her grandmother, and Augusta turned into Haley's embrace.

"What's wrong?" Tank demanded. The men's ashen faces turned toward him. He paused to look around but saw no immediate danger. No bear or anything else threatening, just the gurgling river.

Denny wet his lips and pointed to the ground. "I think a bear got him."

"Stay here," Tank told Haley. He stepped past the men and looked at the figure on the ground. There wasn't much left of the man. Tank forced himself to stoop and examine the pitiful remains. From the prints around it and the evidence in front of him, Tank knew Denny's a.s.sessment was correct-a bear had attacked the man.

The bear had also partially buried the remains. Tank carefully dug around the body to reveal the face. He inhaled sharply. Joe Wooten. No wonder no one had seen the doctor for a few days.

"Who is it?" Kipp knelt beside him. He seemed to have recovered his composure.

"A doctor from town. I need to call Chet Gillespie, the trooper. I'll have to hike back to the cabin and use the radio."

"We brought a satellite phone," Denny put in.

That would save him a two-hour hike. Tank stood. "Show me. Stay away from the site."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Denny muttered.

They all went back to camp, and Tank placed the call to Chet's office. His father-in-law wasn't in, so he left a message on the machine. When he hung up, he found Denny and Kipp taking down the tents they'd put up.

"You heading back to the cabin?" Tank asked. Kipp shook his head. "We'll join you off the path."

His voice was deadpan, and he didn't look at Tank.

Tank decided not to comment or say, "I told you so."

Maybe Kipp had learned a valuable lesson about bears today. "There's a clearing over here." He led the way to the meadow, where he found the women trying to get a fire started. Haley had a book in her hand that she was referring to. She laid the book down and picked up the axe and a piece of wood.

She pressed the blade on the wood. "It says to shave off small slivers, but this isn't working very well."

"You need some kindling and paper at the bottom." He took the axe and shaved slivers of wood from the driest log he could find and layered the kindling on top of the paper, then finally stacked logs on top. He was conscious of Haley's interested gaze.

"Making a fire looks like an art form," Haley said. "I would have figured it out though. The book had step-by-step instructions."

"Better to learn from someone directly than to read it in a book," he said.

"Don't you like to read?"

"Not really. I'd rather be out doing than have my nose stuck in a book."

"Everything I need to know can be found in a book."

"You must like to play it safe."

"There's nothing wrong with safety." She clasped her arms around herself.

"There is if it keeps you from really living." The newspaper flared and began to crackle. Moments later, the kindling took fire.

"I enjoy my life. I'm perfectly safe and happy in Phoenix."

Her words were a sharp reminder that she didn't belong here. He studied her face a moment, noting her paleness, as her gaze darted to the woods beginning to deepen with shadows.

"The wilderness has a compelling beauty if you take time to see it."

"It's savage and horrifying," she said. "I don't know how you stand to live here. And what about Brooke? What kind of life is it for her to grow up with no friends? Don't you worry about some kind of animal hurting her?"

"Now you sound like my sister-in-law," he said grimly. Tank clamped down on the anger that began to rise. "Brooke is happy and loves the woods."

"What about her musical ability? Libby says she has an amazing talent."

"And she has the best possible teacher in Libby. When she's ready, she can go to Juilliard or somewhere good." That day was eons away. Light years. He wouldn't lose his daughter for a long, long time.

"But what about your sister-in-law? She disagrees?"

"You might say that. She's suing for custody."

Haley put her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry. That must be difficult for you. But surely she won't succeed."

"She has the judge in her pocket. There's no telling what will happen. But she's not taking my daughter."

"I believe you. You look ferocious." She clasped her arms around herself. "I could never live out here."

He wondered why she was so afraid. It was none of his business though. He turned to Kipp. "If you all want to rest for a while, I'm going to go try to catch some fish for supper. Chet should be here in a little while."

"I'll come with you," Denny said. "I love to fish."

The producer still looked pale and strained. Tank wondered if he was afraid of being left with Kipp and the women. "Bring your bear spray with you," he said.

Denny paled further, but he nodded and ducked into his tent, then emerged with a can of bear spray in his hand. "You have an extra fishing pole?"

"I've got some line. We can string up one for you with a branch. That's what I do." Denny followed him to the river.

Tank was careful to avoid the site where Dr. Wooten's body lay. He wondered how long it would be before Chet showed up. Probably another hour at least. He usually wasn't out of the office long. Tank was anxious to get Wooten's body examined. He held out a slim hope that a bear hadn't killed him. Maybe Joe had died of a heart attack and a bear had found him.

Miki was never far from Tank's mind. He didn't know what he'd do if they found his bear was to blame.

Six.

The sound of the plane's propellers cut off, and the craft slewed sideways, then touched down on the sandbar. The stink of plane fuel mixed with the fresh scent of the river as it rolled in white-capped waves toward the sh.o.r.e where Haley stood with the rest of the group. The line of spruce forest crowded behind her, its growth so thick it was hard to see a patch of sunlight strong enough to break through the overhead canopy.

A man in rubber waders hopped down from the plane and waded through the cold waves. Haley's eye took in his bulk, then lingered on the badge pinned to his chest. Another trooper and the pilot, all in waders, followed the big trooper to sh.o.r.e. They paused long enough to discard their waterproof garments.

"Nasty business." The first trooper mopped his florid, perspiring face with a large red handkerchief after the introductions were made. "Was it Miki?"

Tank's lips tightened. "Don't you think you'd better look at the body before you a.s.sume a bear got him-or that the bear was Miki?" He turned and stomped toward the body.

The trooper raised his eyebrows but followed without another word. The two other men trailed behind them. Shuddering, Haley turned her back on the men as they bent to examine the doctor's body.

She focused on listening to the gurgle of water over the rocks, the squawks of birds above her head, anything to block out the examination. Footsteps approached from behind her, and she turned to see Tank striding toward her.

"Haley, could we borrow your camera? Chet's isn't working." He held out his hand.

Haley's fingers tightened on the camera. "I never loan my camera. Sorry. Let me see if I can fix his."

His gaze grew steely. "We don't have a lot of time."

She knew he thought she was being unreasonable, but she lifted her chin and stared him down until he dropped his gaze. "Fine," he muttered. "See what you can do."

She motioned for the trooper to bring her the camera. He lumbered toward her, hitching up his pants as he came. "What's it doing?"

"The film isn't advancing."

She inspected it, and then grimaced and popped open the film cavity and showed it to him. "You have more film?"

He blinked, and his jaw tightened. He turned to the closest trooper. "Randolph, would you get me a roll of film from the camera bag?"

The pilot nodded and unzipped the bag, then rummaged through it. "There isn't any more film."

Gillespie looked back at Haley. "Would you have any extra?"

She shook her head. "Wrong kind of film. I use 35 millimeter, and this is an APS camera." Looking at their expectant faces, she tightened her hold on her camera. "I suppose I can take the pictures for you." She generally chose to photograph life in all its wondrous stages. This would be a departure for her. She just hoped she didn't throw up.

She kept her gaze on the trooper's broad shoulders and followed to where the doctor lay on the beach. A gag reflex built in her throat, and she fought it. Be a professional. Bringing the camera to her face, she was able to get some distance from the horror of what had happened to the man. Click, whir. She snapped several areas of the body that the trooper asked for.

Trooper Gillespie pulled on plastic gloves and knelt, then rolled the body over, and she photographed the other side. She kept herself from dwelling on the parts of the man that were missing.

Chet picked up hair and a loose bear tooth that had been under the doctor, then dropped them into a plastic bag. "We've got bear hair and claw marks in the dirt. I should take a cast. Randolph, go get the plaster. Take some shots of the bear prints, Haley."

Haley shot pictures until the camera began to whir in her hands as the film rewound. She popped open the back of the camera and extracted the film, then handed it to the trooper. "Is that enough?"

His big fist closed around the film. "Thanks. Nice camera you've got. Have you taken many pictures yet?"

"Not many. Just three rolls. I brought two hundred." She glanced at him. "Um, have you been a trooper here a long time?"

"Ten years. Long enough, I reckon." He took off his hat and mopped his forehead.

She glanced around and noticed no one else was listening. The other trooper bent over the bear tracks, and Tank and the pilot were engaged in putting the doctor in a body bag. "My parents were Maggie and Grady Walsh." He gave no indication of his surprise other than a flicker in his brown eyes. "What can you tell me about the fire that killed them?"

"Not much. That kind of thing happens out here. We suspect a spark from the woodstove started it, but there's no proof." Chet swatted at a mosquito. "I wondered what a city slicker like you was doing out here. You come out just to find out what happened to your folks?"

"Among other things. Just reconnecting." Her throat ached with the words she wanted to spill after looking into his kind brown eyes. There was much he could tell her about her parents. "You've lived here all your life?"

"I'm a sourdough. Been here about twelve years. Don't remember ever meeting you before."

"I lived here until I was a little over eight and haven't been back since." She clamped off the tap of memories that pushed toward the surface like a spring flower.

He raised his eyebrows at her revelation but didn't comment. "I wish I could help with more information, but all we know is that Joy came in from fishing to find the cabin engulfed in flames. It was seven in the morning. She ran to Tank's for help, but it was too late."

The stump of Haley's leg throbbed with a sudden pain. She glanced over at Tank and frowned. He was standing toe to toe with the other trooper. Both men had their fists balled and were in each other's personal s.p.a.ce.

Chet swore. "I knew Bixby wouldn't wait like I told him." He sprang toward the two men.

Haley knew it was none of her business, but she followed him anyway.

"I loved my wife, Bixby, and I resent your insinuations otherwise."

"Even men who love their wives sometimes see other women." Trooper Bixby was only three inches shorter than Tank but not nearly as wide. He made no move to stand back from Tank's displeasure. In fact, the smile on his face seemed to suggest he relished it.

"I didn't." Tank ground out the words, then stepped back. "My wife's drowning was an accident."

"We'll see. The autopsy results should be back any day."

"You never got over her choosing me over you, did you, Ed? You had to go and make this a personal issue."

"She'd still be alive if she'd picked me. I intend to get to the bottom of her death." Bixby glanced toward Chet when the older man gasped. "Try to let me do my job, Chet."

Chet turned and crashed away. His face was a blinding mixture of grief and rage. Tank went after him. Haley wished she could comfort them both. Tank caught up with his father-in-law, and they stood talking in low tones. They both came back after a few minutes.