Arctic Witness
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Heather Woodhaven
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Someone was downstairs. Ivy West heard rushed footsteps before the security alert pinged on her phone. She set down the adoption papers she’d started to fill out. So much for a lunch break in her upstairs apartment.
The bottom of her boots slapped each wooden step as she hurried down to her post at the Nome Survival Mission, a small nonprofit store geared to help survivalists, preppers and anyone from the surrounding villages trying to withstand the harsh climate. Whoever was down there would hear her coming to help. She moved past the heavily stocked shelves of blankets and survival gear with a ready smile, only to find the room empty.
The wraparound windows provided ample views of the churning Bering Sea in front and the tundra of the Seward Peninsula on the sides. A few miles past the outskirts of Nome, the vast expanse brought a certain amount of comfort. She could never be caught off guard, and yet she’d been certain she’d heard someone walking around. No vehicles were out front.
A current of crisp September air hit the back of her neck. Aha. The back door wasn’t fully closed. She opened the door fully to step onto the deck. Sometimes her visitors were skittish and traveled on foot. The mission frequently served as a first step for those who needed help getting to a women’s shelter. Except, no one was outside but the musk oxen, grazing on the tundra brush. They needed to eat up. The wildflowers of the summer had already dwindled. Winter was at their front door.
She’d left Dylan’s blanket in his car seat when she’d dropped him off with the babysitter. At thirteen months old, her foster child loved the messy teething biscuits. If she threw the blanket in the wash now, it’d be ready for when she picked him up this afternoon. She rushed down the deck stairs to where her Jeep and snow machine were parked on the back incline.
A warbling voice sent a shiver up her spine. Ivy reached for the pepper spray she kept fastened on the belt loop of her jeans, but relaxed when she saw it was a dog. With a gorgeous mix of gray and white, the thick coat of a Siberian husky fluttered in the wind as the animal stepped out from behind the vehicle. The dog’s eyes softened while its white fluffy tail wagged hesitantly. Huskies rarely barked, preferring to howl or what sounded like an attempt at speaking.
She grinned. “Are you lost?” The gray at the top of its head formed a point on the forehead almost like a widow’s peak, a unique marking that should help connect the dog with the owner quickly. The husky trotted toward the wild brush the musk oxen enjoyed. “Don’t get too close. They’re quick to use those horns, you know.” She knew the canine couldn’t understand her, but if huskies went to the trouble of attempting to speak, she wanted to return the favor.
The husky might be a missing sled dog, since the end of the famous Iditarod Race was held in downtown Nome. The start of the race was in Anchorage, where her ex-husband still lived. Roughly a thousand miles away. What would Sean think when she told him she was adopting a baby? He’d recently called, wanting her survivalist knowledge for a case. Ivy craved hearing his voice again, but since one of the reasons they’d divorced was his refusal to have children, she also dreaded telling him about Dylan. Her chest tightened like every other time she’d forfeited her dream of raising a family together.
The dog looked over her shoulder and waited a beat. Ivy placed a hand on her chest. “You want me to follow?” The husky took a few more steps toward the brush and again turned to wait. “Fine.” She walked forward. The dog disappeared into the tall grasses and bushes. “I’m telling you right now, if you stir up a swarm of mosquitoes, I’m leaving.” She followed the grass movement until the husky stopped and faced her.
On the ground, dark hair spilled out over the matted-down grasses. Ivy rushed forward. She dropped to her knees and reached for the woman’s neck to search for her pulse. “Good dog!” This had to be the husky’s owner. “Ma’am? Can you hear me?” Her fingers couldn’t find a pulse. No breath. She ripped open the woman’s coat to begin compressions.
Her gaze caught a dark red circle that spread from the center of the woman’s chest.
Murder. Ivy’s own heart pounded harder. This woman had been killed... But when? Her skin chilled. She stood, reaching for her phone. The husky released a short howl. She spun to see why, but lightning struck the base of her skull. Her bones lost all strength.
The grass, the house, everything turned white, then fuzzy as she tried to blink through the blinding pain. How’d the dog suddenly get over her head? Something grabbed her ankle and pulled. She struggled to raise her head, but blackness draped over her vision until her mind went silent.
Sean West stepped into the Alaska K-9 Unit headquarters with Grace, his Japanese Akita Inu partner, by his side. His bones felt heavy, having just returned from a recovery operation. They’d brought peace and closure to a missing man’s family, and while he appreciated the purpose of handling a cadaver-seeking dog, success in such a mission brought a deep weariness. Being with the team, even in a boring meeting, would get his head back in the game.
Colonel Lorenza Gallo blocked his entrance to the meeting room. “You’re back. I wasn’t sure you would be in time. I need a quick word in private.”
He tried to ignore feeling as if he were being sent to the principal’s office. A quick glance over Lorenza’s shoulders confirmed the rest of the team was waiting for the meeting to start. Grace tilted her fluffy fox-like head up at him as if wondering why they weren’t allowed to join the rest of the K-9s. He shrugged and followed his boss a few steps down the hallway to her office.
“This will only take a minute,” she said.
Sean wasn’t sure if she was speaking to Denali, the retired K-9 husky who sat upright upon their entry, or him. Lorenza’s silver pixie cut and tailored suit complemented the rest of her immaculate office, nothing out of place. She faced him and sat on the edge of her desk with her arms crossed. “Do you have your go bag ready?”
“Yes.” Seemed like an odd question. He’d driven over two hundred miles early this morning, after the recovery case. He never knew where in Alaska he’d be assigned, as the elite K-9 Unit supplemented all law enforcement in the state. Sean’s bag was always packed, though sometimes his extra uniforms awaited a wash, like now.
“We received a PD request for help. A missing woman, rural area, outside of police jurisdiction.”
“You suspect a recovery is needed?”
The colonel stiffened. “I hope not. I’ve already assigned Helena and Gabriel to this case. I’ll tell them to wait for you at the airstrip. They brought extra supplies for Grace just in case you’re running low.”
Sean tried to connect the dots. Lorenza wasn’t supplying any of the details she usually loved.
“I didn’t want to brief you over the phone,” she said, as if seeing the silent question in his eyes. “And we’re out of time. Helena will fill you in on the plane.” She hesitated. “Sean, I’m sending you because if it were me... Well, that’s what I would want.”
His veins turned ice-cold, but his hunch could be off base. “Where?” he asked.
“Nome.”
Sean’s mouth went dry. She hadn’t confirmed his suspicions, but he didn’t want to take the time to discuss. He ran out of the building without another word. Grace trotted by his side. With the use of sirens, they made it to the airstrip within ten minutes. Helena Maddox and her Norwegian elkhound, Luna, stood outside of the cargo hold of the trooper-owned Cessna. Gabriel Runyon and his Saint Bernard, Bear, were already preparing to step into the aircraft.
Sean grabbed his two go bags, one specially equipped for Grace’s needs, and jogged to the plane.
“You made it.” Helena’s shoulders dropped. “I wasn’t sure you would. Are you okay?”
“The missing woman is Ivy?” He tensed the muscles in his jaw, determined to keep all emotion at bay at the thought of his ex-wife in danger.
Helena avoided making eye contact. “We don’t know much except that a police rep went to drop off a donation and found the door open. Ivy was nowhere to be found. The PD thought it urgent enough to put in a call to Lorenza, partly as a courtesy to you.”
Sean’s heart went into overdrive. He nodded, glad for once that both Helena and Gabriel had gotten to know Ivy before the divorce. He wouldn’t need to explain how out of character it would be for his ex to miss any meeting.
Gabriel gave Helena a side-glance. The man had an intimidating quality, no matter what expression, but that glance held a rebuke. Helena was supposed to tell him more, then.
“What?” Sean pressed. “What else?”
The other man’s forehead creased. “PD spotted blood on the ground.”
“We don’t know if it’s Ivy’s,” Helena added quickly. “It could be from an animal, for all we know.”
Sean wouldn’t allow himself to ruminate on a mission to find his own wife—ex-wife—dead. She had to be alive. He tapped the side of his leg, and Grace, without needing a command, jumped past the two troopers and their dogs into the plane. “Let’s not waste any time.”
Helena and Gabriel scrambled behind him into their seats. They each attached the special travel harnesses for the dogs into the seat belts. The pilot, another Alaska state trooper Sean didn’t know, sat in the cockpit, checking instruments.
Roads across Alaska to Nome didn’t exist. The only way there was by air, sea or dogsled. The ninety-minute plane ride was the fastest choice but torturous, as he feared his worst nightmare had become reality. As a search-and-rescue handler, Gabriel would take the lead on the case. Sean overheard his loud voice hollering over the noise of the propellers as he made calls throughout the journey to prepare for their arrival.
The wheels hit the tarmac and taxied up to three waiting trooper SUVs. The moment the pilot shut off the engine, Sean and Grace launched out of the plane. The vehicles weren’t specially equipped for K-9s, but the dogs were trained for all manner of transportation, given the challenges the Alaska terrain could throw at them.
“Go east, and the Nome Survival Mission will be on our left. Can’t miss it,” Helena hollered over the wind. She and Luna jogged next to them and made for the middle vehicle.
The keys were left on the dash of each vehicle, just as Gabriel had requested. Sean flipped on the emergency lights and followed the other man’s lead at full speed, barely registering the transition of cement to gravel and the beauty of the sea on his right. In a missing person’s case in Alaska, every minute counted. And as Nome’s history suggested, it was too easy for someone to disappear, never to be seen again.
They pulled in front of the mission. This was where Ivy lived? This small house in the middle of nowhere? Sure, they’d divorced at the point of barely speaking to each other, but lately they’d found reasons to talk more often. Almost as if they were becoming friends again. He’d imagined her as part of a community, not with musk oxen as her only neighbors. His stomach tightened to the point he needed to blow out a slow breath to keep the pain from registering on his face.
Gabriel stepped out of his vehicle, a hand up in front of Sean. “We got here in record time. Now, it’s imperative we don’t rush. There might be a scent Bear can grab as long as we’re careful not to disturb the scene.”
Bear’s search-and-rescue specialty included being able to track scents, even in permafrost. That was likely why the colonel had assigned him to this case.
Helena climbed the steps to the deck that wrapped around the building. A lot of the houses close to shore were set on stilts to endure the floods and snow throughout the year. Thankfully, they weren’t up against either at the moment, though flurries drifted onto his jacket from the gray clouds above. Helena placed her hand on her weapon as she stepped toward the ajar back door, swaying with the wind. “We’ll check inside.”
“If you see anything belonging to Ivy, bring it out, please,” Sean called up to her. Maybe Bear could find her easier with a fresh scent.
“Understood.” Helena hesitated. Luna stood at the ready, specializing in suspect apprehension, so if there was someone inside, the dog would find them. Helena pointed in the southeast direction. “Up here, I can see a matted-down path in the tall grasses. Might be from animals, but—”
“That’s probably where our contact spotted blood,” Gabriel said. “On it.”
Grace did a little dance with her paws. Was she trying to tell him she smelled Ivy? Would she even remember Ivy from her days as a puppy?
“Found one spot of blood,” Gabriel announced. “Small amount, but looks relatively fresh.” He glanced at Sean. “Are you up for this?”
His mouth went dry. He knew what his teammate wanted from him. If he put Grace to work and she alerted on the blood, then they’d know that whoever had been on the ground was already dead before they were moved.
“Time to work.” His voice came out in a ragged whisper. Grace’s ears swiveled higher and her mouth fell open, as if smiling. He and Grace were often called to scenes where loved ones waited for news, so Sean had decided to use a relatively innocuous phrase to cue Grace. She dropped her nose to the ground and smelled the blood, then huffed, a sign she was annoyed.
Without alerting, Grace knew she wasn’t going to get a reward. Sean fought against laughing. He’d never been so thankful. “If that’s Ivy’s blood, she was still alive before she left.” Hope blossomed inside him with renewed vigor. “Can Bear track her?”
Before he could answer, Grace spun around and strained ahead, her nose frantically huffing and puffing in the matted path of grass. A second later, she sat down and looked over her shoulder at Sean.
Gabriel winced.
Sean pushed forward. A separate section of blood, dinner-plate in size, had caked in the grass underneath a pile of freshly pulled grass, as if someone had tried to hastily cover up its existence.
“Good work, girl,” Sean said, but his voice shook. He produced her favorite chew toy, but as much as he tried, he couldn’t offer a smile for his partner.
“It’s two different people,” Helena shouted from the deck. “I’m coming down. No one was inside the mission.” Sean whirled around to see his colleague jogging toward them with a jacket in her hand that he recognized instantly. Gabriel took the jacket and offered it for Bear to start smelling.
“Why do you think it was two people?” Gabriel asked.
Helena pointed to the road. “From the deck, I could see a path through the grasses from here to the road.” She pointed at the muddy areas. “It’s more obvious with a view from above, but there were three people total. Whoever did this dragged two people to a vehicle and drove through the grasses, likely on an ATV of some sort.”
Grace dropped the toy and strained her nose east. Bear sniffed Ivy’s jacket and immediately turned to the first spot of blood, not the second. Two different sets of blood meant there was still a chance his ex-wife was alive. “Best-case scenario, she’s still with a murderer. We need to go now—southeast, it appears.”
Helena studied the two men and nodded. “Someone needs to stay here and process the scene. You go ahead.”
Sean fought against running through the grass to get to the car faster, as that might disturb the crime scene. He scooped up Grace’s toy and moved to go. The dog stopped midgallop, sniffed something on the ground and sneezed. Sean leaned over. A pepper-spray can. He recognized the pink holder Ivy kept attached to her belt loop.
Helena grabbed her phone to start the lengthy process of photographing every angle and piece of evidence. “I see it. Go.”
Sean ran the rest of the way to his vehicle and opened the door for Grace. He rolled down the window in the back seat to let his K-9 partner stick her nose out as they drove. It was unlikely she would catch scents while he drove at high speeds, but not impossible. She could smell a drop of blood from a long distance.
Miles of coastline shifted into miles of tundra. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but land and grazing animals. No sign of any humans or ATVs. Grace continued to strain her nose forward, sniffing wildly. In the rearview mirror, he could see Bear doing the same out the back of Gabriel’s SUV.
A line of trees rose up out of the vast expanse of nothingness. Sean slowed down as the road disappeared. He bumped over the dirt, pressing onward. The tree branches brushed up against the sides of the vehicle. In front of him, a river rushed over rocks and boulders.
No bridge. A dead end.
He hit the steering wheel in frustration and Grace barked, her eyes squinting and her ears pointing in opposite directions, like she was asking him, What’s your problem? His shoulders sagged as he waited for Gabriel to park behind him.
When Sean first took the job in cadaver detection, he focused on the noble act of bringing people much-needed closure, the type of peace his mom had never received when his uncle went missing on the Pacific Crest Trail. He kept the rest of the implications about his job at the back of his mind, never letting it grow louder than a dull hum. But now...
He couldn’t find Ivy dead. He’d never recover. Please...please let her be alive.
Sean stepped out of the vehicle to face Gabriel. “Don’t suppose you have a boat handy?” His teammate offered Bear a smell of Ivy’s jacket. The Saint Bernard rushed forward, nose to the ground, through the tall grasses close to the first set of tree trunks.
Grace lunged forward and blocked Bear. She uttered a low growl, staring right at Sean. His mouth dropped. She never acted like that unless—
A click sounded. Two logs swung from opposite standing trees and smashed into each other, just above Grace’s head. Sean crept forward, bending over until he saw the trip wire resting against the front of her legs.
“She was trying to warn us. Someone really doesn’t want us to be out here,” Gabriel said.
Sean blew out a breath, never more grateful for Grace. Because of the types of jobs they worked, she was trained to avoid a variety of dangers, usually wildlife and hunting-related. “Traps or not, we’re Ivy’s only chance.”
Ivy’s fingers moved and something soft brushed against her ankles. Weird physical sensations demanded she make the extra effort to open her eyes. A rotting wooden ceiling above her. A husky with a gray widow’s peak stepped into view, looking down and sniffing her face. Ivy tried to twist away and sit up, but her hands refused to let her.
Her wrists were tied to a pole. Her heart jolted and her eyes widened, suddenly fully awake. She couldn’t think clearly with the way her head throbbed. The husky shifted next to her. She managed to sit up and found herself staring into dark eyes surrounded by a black mask.
“So you’re finally up.” He was hunched over, his arms around a rolled-up rug. She didn’t want to think about what was in the rug. The man dropped the rug and the tips of his fingers flopped over the edge. Ivy held back the scream building in her throat. He stepped forward and grabbed the collar of her sweater, pulling her close, her arms twisting against the pole. He studied her face.
She squirmed, trying to avoid looking into his eyes, to get away from his touch. The friction of the rope against her wrists burned.
His eyes crinkled as if he were smiling behind the mask. “She gave you something, didn’t she?”
“What? No. I didn’t know her.”
His eyes narrowed, maybe at her confusion. “I think you’re lying. Just like she did. You can either talk on your own or be made to. Is that what you want? To end up like her? I’ll give you a minute to think about it.” He released her and straightened. The bottom of his boot connected with her chest, sending her backward.
Her head hit the floor, straining her right shoulder socket as her hands remained attached to the pole. She closed her eyes, fighting against the waves of pain firing in her temples, neck and arms.
“Come,” the man said. The sound of a dog’s paws against the floor followed with a door slamming, then silence.
It was now or never. She had to escape. Dylan had no one else in the world but her. She gripped the pole and hoisted herself up. A moment later, her eyes adjusted to the dim light streaming through the front slats of the poorly constructed shack door. The man had tied her up with bowline knots.
She grabbed the spot to break the knot with her teeth while tugging on the loop with her strained right hand. The ropes fell away. The stiffness in her back and legs fought against her intention to jump up and run. She hobbled to the front of the shack, shaking the feeling back into her legs, and peeked out the door. Without a weapon for self-defense, she needed to be fast if she ran.
Tree branches hung down low, almost blocking her view of the husky and the killer’s back. Trees! There were no trees in Nome unless someone counted the Nome Forest, a name jokingly referring to the pile of used Christmas trees collected in January. The permafrost prevented trees from growing deep enough roots. The closest place with trees was either Pilgrim Hot Springs or the Niukluk River. Pilgrim Hot Springs took hours to get to, so she would guess she was closer to Council, an abandoned townsite across the river. Still, miles away from her place. Even if she sprinted her heart out, she couldn’t last long. She bit her lip to keep hopeless tears from rushing from her eyes.
Her racing mind could only settle on one prayer. Help! She nudged the door open a little wider. Her abductor hunkered over a metallic boat. The husky looked back at her and her breath caught. The dog jogged to the front of the boat, vocalizing a solemn warbling moan at the man but pointing in the opposite direction, almost as if creating a distraction for her.
He stood. “What? What is it?” The husky continued to make noise. “Stupid dog!”
Ivy pushed open the creaking door, hoping the husky’s song covered up the noise. She ran around the backside of the shack with a quick look over her shoulder. The killer spun around, no longer wearing a mask. Their eyes met. Towering at roughly six foot three with auburn hair and pale skin, he lunged for a gun resting on a nearby boulder.
She screamed and darted into the tree line. Something snagged at her foot and she tripped. When she jumped up, she spotted a rope on the tree ahead, and another rope from a nearby tree. She grabbed a rock and tossed it forward. A ball made of spiked branches swung down, right where she had been about to run. She twisted and sidestepped the trap, her heart pounding in her throat. She had to keep moving or die trying.
Footsteps crunched over leaves behind her. If she ran much farther, she’d be out in the open again, an easy target for shooting practice. She dropped low, crouching behind a crowded grouping of trees. Maybe she could hide and wait until the cover of darkness. Footsteps grew closer. She held her breath, not daring to move a muscle.
A hand closed around her nose and mouth. “Shhh.”
She flinched and struggled to breathe. If she could just lift her foot and strike the instep of whoever had grabbed her... A fox-like beast stepped into view. It couldn’t be. Grace? She relaxed. The hand dropped and arms spun her around to face—
“Sean.” She wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled him tight. “But how? How’d you—”
He patted her back. “Get behind me, Ivy. We’re not out of danger yet.”
