The Last Victim (A Ryker Townsend Story) Page 8

  “Here on the island, we take care of each other,” she said. “To people from the city, Josh might look like a pervert, but I don’t mind that he takes an interest in who comes here. I like knowing he’s out there.”

  “You want me to make sure it’s Josh…to be on the safe side?”

  “I’m a Trooper, Ryker. I carry a weapon and I’m used to living alone.” She touched my arm. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”

  The intimacy of her touch sent a mixed message. It stirred my need to protect her, but when I looked in her eyes, she clearly didn’t want or need my help. Her strong reaction took me off guard.

  Most women I knew liked it both ways. They liked being independent, but if a guy played the white knight once in awhile, it was a gesture they appreciated for different reasons. Sometimes it paid for a man to be a mind reader, but I didn’t know Justine well enough to call it either way.

  “Okay. I understand.”

  After we finished straightening the kitchen, she poured two mugs of Swamp Tea and doctored them with drizzled honey and a stiff shot of bourbon before she handed me one.

  “Come with me. You’ve done enough work.”

  She took my elbow and walked me outside to her back porch, where she had two wooden rocking chairs. A sudden feeling of déjà vu hit me as if we’d done this before and the sense of home swept over me again—stronger this time.

  Justine sat with me for a few minutes and sipped her tea before she looked at her watch and got up again. She wasn’t one to sit still.

  “I’ve got a sick one that needs my attention before I get to bed. It’s time for his medicine. If I don’t give it to him, he’ll cry all night.”

  “I thought your buddy Josh took care of the dogs.”

  “Not the meds. I do that. He only has access on the rare occasion I give it to him.”

  “You need any help?”

  “No, thanks. Just sit and unwind. Enjoy the view…and the quiet.”

  “You do all the nursing yourself? What if an animal needs a vet?”

  “I work with someone in Ketchikan. They hook me up with anything I need. Life on an island, you’ve got to improvise and cut corners.” She shrugged. “This won’t take long. I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Will you be okay alone?”

  “I told you. I’m sure that was Josh. He’s harmless. I’m fine, but thanks.”

  Justine slipped inside her cabin before she returned to disappear into the darkness and head for the makeshift kennels that bordered her property, cages she shared with her neighbor. I heard her boots on the wooden pier I’d seen earlier. Her footfalls faded once the animals started yelping. After she gave her foster dogs attention and meds to the ailing one, she settled her charges for the night and things grew quiet again.

  I heard the sound of Justine’s soft voice. She must’ve been talking to the hurt pup, but when another voice cut through the stillness, I stood and peered through the shadows.

  I thought I heard the deeper voice of a man.

  “Are you okay?” I called out to her from the porch and headed down the steps, but when she called to me, I stopped.

  “Yeah, I’m done. Relax, city boy. Be there in a second.”

  I kept my eyes alert and strained to hear the man’s voice, but after nothing came, I went back to my rocker. The way noise carried on the wind and through the trees on the island, I could’ve imagined the second voice—a seed that had been planted after I’d seen a guy in the woods staring at us. I let it go.

  “Will your charge sleep through the night?” I called out as Justine’s faint silhouette came into view.

  “Yes. I hope so.”

  She slid into the rocking chair next to me and grabbed her tea. With things quiet again, her dog Sancho had curled up at my feet and her yellow tabby had claimed my lap. Justine smiled when she saw I didn’t object.

  “My lap had a vacancy. Your tabby saw an opportunity and seized it.”

  “I noticed.”

  I took a deep breath and drank my tea. Except for the rampant carnage coming from the mosquito zapper, I was once again struck by a sense of tranquil bliss. Exhaustion from a long day of travel made me drowsy and settled. I felt a connection to this place, as if I’d been to the island before, even though I knew I hadn’t. Maybe that feeling came through Nathan. The closer I got to Nate’s life and his past, the more I felt a tightening bond with his killer, like we’d all walked the same ground—victim, death dealer, and man hunter.

  A chill touched my skin that not even a fat tabby could change.

  With the sun buried beneath the horizon, a wash of bluish gray filtered through the thick stand of evergreens behind her home. The night sky already showed signs of a dense canopy of stars. Without city lights to dilute the dazzle, I would have a front row seat to the show. While I waited for darkness to close in, I had questions.

  “How well did you know Nathan? I don’t mean to pry.”

  “I see that the questions come one way and on your terms.” She hadn’t said it with anger. “Actually, I understand. I’m giving you a hard time. Sorry.”

  “I need a feel for the kind of man he was. Insight from you could help.”

  A sad expression swept across her face. She didn’t hide it.

  “Nate reported a poacher last year. I responded to the call.”

  “So that’s how you met. Purely professional. A one-time incident.” I fixed my gaze on her, but when she didn’t return the favor, I pushed. “Anything beyond that?”

  She drew a deep breath and hid her face behind her tea mug before she answered.

  “We saw each other for awhile. By ‘seeing each other,’ I mean sex.”

  Justine had a plain unvarnished honesty about her, but from the look on her face, I knew she hadn’t shared the whole truth. Something in her eyes told me her physical relationship with Nate had been about more than satisfying her sexual urges. She let me see her vulnerability and I liked how she wore it. Perhaps I liked it too much.

  “Both of us were beyond playing games,” she said. “Living remote like this, that’s how it is sometimes. You take what you need, when you can get it.”

  “I can see that. You won’t get any judgment from me.”

  I truly did understand the need for physical intimacy without the burden of strings attached, but in my experience, it never stayed that way. Someone always got hurt. After I took a gulp of tea, I looked up to find her staring at me and sensed a potent sexual energy from her. Her sensuality was clear and unmistakable. At the risk of seeming egotistical, I made a daring assumption that her attentions were targeted at me, considering no one else was here.

  “You remind me of him,” she said. “He was like lake water—still on the surface—but teeming with life and hope and possibility underneath. I haven’t figured out what you have underneath, but it’s…something.”

  “You give me too much credit. I’m no man of mystery. What you see? That’s all there is. I’m an open book.”

  “That sounds like something Nate would say, too. The day we first met, he became shy when things turned personal, but eventually he let me in. I miss him.”

  Her gaze held mine for a beat too long. I hadn’t been around a woman as direct as Justine. A part of me wanted more. Another part pulled at me to change the subject to get it off me. My instincts for isolation and secrecy won out.

  “You loved him.” The words were out before I filtered them. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  After a long strained moment, she finally spoke.

  “I never told him, something I’ll always regret. I never said anything, because his life was all about Tanner, his little boy. He told me he’d made a mistake marrying his ex, but Tanner balanced things out and made that mistake go away. Everything he earned, he socked away for his boy. I understood his feelings, but he had a life that satisfied him. I didn’t see my part in it.”

  Realizing how close Justine had been to Nate, I thought about how difficult it wo
uld’ve been for her to break the bad news of his murder. Carrying heartbreaking news to a victim’s family was never easy, but having a vested interest made it far worse.

  “Notifying his ex-wife must’ve been tough.”

  “It didn’t have to be me, but I did it…because of Nate. His ex never knew about us. Not many people did.”

  Through Justine’s relationship with Nate, I got a better feel for the guy, but no closer to finding an answer as to how his body ended up in the Cascades. Living on the island, Applewhite’s life would have been simple, but something had made him a target in Seattle.

  “From everything you told me, his life was here. What might’ve drawn him out of Alaska?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been wracking my brain about that, but we stopped seeing each other weeks ago.” She wiped a hand over her face and eyes. “I can’t tell you much about where he went and who he saw. I wanted more than he was willing to give, so I had to walk.”

  “Do you know of any connection he had to Seattle…someone he may have known down there?”

  “Alaskans go through Seattle when they fly on business, or take vacations, or shop for goods they can’t get here, but Nate wasn’t into those things. He saved his money to spend on his kid.”

  “Did he ever say that he felt someone…watching him?”

  “Like a stalker?” she asked. “No, but I guess most guys on the island wouldn’t think about reporting that. I mean, living here, a guy might handle it on his own. Everyone carries a weapon. Nate had a shotgun and rifles for hunting and protection. Do you think someone stalked him?” Before I could answer, she shook her head and said, “I still don’t understand how he ended up in Seattle.”

  “We’re hoping he had a laptop or an iPad that’ll tell us more. That’s why I came to search his cabin. He had a Facebook page that he didn’t update much. With his home in the mountains, do you know how he connected to the Internet?”

  “There are Wi-Fi hotspots in Point Baker. I can’t say what he did, for sure. I never saw that he had his own laptop, but if he didn’t have service at his cabin, I think he could’ve used the Internet at the various outfitters he worked for. They book business online and it wouldn’t have cost him a dime.”

  “That makes sense. Do you know who he stayed in touch with online?”

  “Sorry. Can’t help you. Talking wasn’t exactly our strong suit. That worked for both of us.”

  When the conversation came back around to her physical relationship with Applewhite, I found her staring at me. The way she held my gaze reminded me that we were strangers—a man and a woman—alone together in a house where I would spend the night. Her invitation to stay didn’t have to mean anything beyond hospitality, but her eyes sent a message that was hard to mistake.

  “How early should I get up tomorrow?” I asked.

  “That…depends.”

  Another awkward silence filled with sexual innuendo.

  “You said something about taking gear,” I said. “What did you mean?”

  “Stand up for me.”

  “What?”

  “Come on. Humor me.”

  When I did as she asked, the tabby didn’t appreciate the interruption. The cat scurried under the deck as I stood. Justine finished the last of her tea and ran her fingertips over my shoulders. After she had me turn around, I felt her hands along my back and down my arms. I hadn’t expected her touching me. Before she said anything more, Justine left me standing alone on her back deck. I heard the sounds of her rummaging inside.

  If I lost sleep tonight, I imagined it would be for an entirely different reason.

  Justine had a sensuality that came easily for her. I had no trouble imagining Nate with a gravitational pull toward an attractive woman who didn’t play games, knew what she wanted, and took it when it suited her. Life in Point Baker would’ve left Nate few options when it came to willing females who’d settle for what he had to give, but a woman like Justine would stand out anywhere.

  If she had cut Nate off, because she needed more from him, maybe the guy felt the void strongly enough to go looking for gratification outside the fishbowl of Point Baker.

  “Here, try these on. They should fit you.” When she returned, she tossed me some work shirts and pants that looked better suited for cool nights in the mountains than what I’d brought. I wanted to ask if the clothes were Nate’s, but I didn’t.

  “I got a backpack, a sleeping bag, and other gear you can borrow, too.” She smiled when she held up a shirt across my shoulders and saw it would fit. “When you asked about what time we’d get up in the morning and I said ‘that depends,’ you actually blushed. I like you, Ryker Townsend. You’re okay…for a Fed.”

  I blushed again and didn’t know what to say. She’d baited me on purpose and my mind went exactly where she thought I’d go. Utterly predictable, I’d been played.

  “We’ll get up early, but we’ll have to pack gear and food. That’s why I hedged on our departure time. ‘That depends…on you. No breakfast. We’ll eat on the way.”

  “What about your animals?”

  “I’ve already made arrangements with my neighbor, Josh. He takes care of them anyway. He knows where I’ll be, so I’m good to go. If I have to get up in the middle of the night to take care of my sick one, I’ll try not to wake you.” She grabbed our tea mugs and said, “You hit the bathroom first. Good night, Ryker.”

  When I came into the house, she’d disappeared into her bedroom. I yawned, barely able to keep my eyes open. A soft glow came from under her closed door, but she’d left me fresh linens, a pillow, and a blanket on the sofa.

  I definitely felt Justine’s connection to Nate and grasped the mutual attraction. I’d had my share of physical relationships, but with my nightmares, I’d grown used to leaving afterwards. No one got too close. Doing what I did for a living, it was easier to live alone. But after spending one evening with Justine, I understood why any man would’ve been drawn to her as a lover—and how empty Nate’s life might’ve become without her.

  She was a straight forward woman who tapped into a man’s need, without going the long way around to get there.

  ***

  Cold. A foul stench. Bleary shadows wavered in and out of focus.

  Ben Stevens woke on his knees with his arms tied above his head, not knowing where he was. The weight of his body tightened the rope that cut into his wrists. As he lifted his head, he felt sick with the taste of bile in his throat. The smell of vomit was thick in the air—his vomit—but a more disgusting odor came from something else.

  Something putrid and dead.

  “Help…m-me.”

  He didn’t know if he actually said the words or if anyone would hear him. Ben fought to stay awake. He took deep breaths and pulled at his restraints, but his ankles and legs were strapped down. As his eyes cleared, he glimpsed the walls around him and felt a chill in the tight space. An exposed red light bulb burned outside and its light cut through the wood slats of a small door. The rope that bound his hands hung from a metal ring bolted into the roof of a compartment too small to stand in.

  Faraway, he heard the footsteps of someone coming. He didn’t know if he should cry for help or stay quiet. Something deep inside him kept him still. He clenched at the ropes that held him and felt his lips quiver.

  God, please help me.

  Ben held his breath as the footsteps stopped outside and a shadow crossed the red light. When the door opened, he squinted into the intense light. He couldn’t see a face. He only caught a glimpse of torn Carhartt work coveralls that he remembered guys wore in Alaska, worn work gloves, and a dirty ball cap. The guy crawled in fast and blinded him with a hood over his head.

  “Who…are you? Why are you—?”

  Ben never got to finish. He felt the stinging cut of a blade at his throat and he choked on a gasp. This time his whole body shook as the knife inched down his chest. Piece by piece, the blade ripped through his clothes to strip him naked. Ben froze and let the man do
what he came to do. Goosebumps raged over his chest and legs and a chill chased the warmth of his body away when the night air hit his skin.

  Fear gripped him hard when a hand ran the length of his naked body.

  “Please. Don’t do…this.”

  Every word tore from him in tremors until something jabbed him and he cringed. The hot sting of an injection burned the flesh of his neck.

  This time Ben welcomed the dark.

  ***

  Prince of Wales Island, Alaska

  Hours later

  Ryker Townsend

  A punch to my ribs jolted me awake and I choked a gasp.

  In a fevered sweat, I opened my eyes and saw only shapes until something moved. A tall shadow leaned over me. My mind flashed on the man I’d seen out the window as a hand grabbed my chest and I reacted. I yanked my attacker off balance and wrestled my arm around a throat and squeezed. Nails dug into the skin of my arm and I heard a voice in the dark, one I didn’t recognize.

  “Let me go.”

  I didn’t let up. I held the body firm against me.

  “Stop it. You’re hurting me.”

  I took a shot to the ribs, but I didn’t let up until a stern voice got my attention.

  “Ryker. You’re having a bad dream. Can you hear me?”

  I stopped thrashing long enough to gaze around the room. The dim outline of a wood carving of a whale hung on the wall and I took a deep breath to slow my heart. Hair brushed against my face and I smelled a subtle fragrance I remembered—Justine.

  “I’m sorry. What happened?”

  After I let go, she went to a lamp and flipped the switch. A pale wash lit the room. She wore a blue nightshirt, thin enough for me to see her nipples. Her blond hair hung across her face in a tumble.

  “You were having a nightmare. I heard you call out Nate’s name. It sounded bad.”

  She went to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. Without a word, she handed it to me and I drank.