Chapter Twenty-Seven

Founder’s Day—July 2, the day the North Slope Borough was formed—Independence Day, and the Nalukataq holidays made for a five-day weekend. Add to that a borough payday, and Barrow was wilder than Rio de Janeiro during Carnival. The police department was hopping.

As usual, an ambulance was parked at Simmonds Hill just in case someone got hurt at Nalukataq—blanket toss—the celebration of the spring whaling season. Members of the whaling crews and other celebrants gathered around a giant trampoline made from the ugruk skins that covered the tiny boats or umiat. They held the sides of the blanket while some idiot climbed into the middle of the massive deathtrap. Then, they’d toss said idiot into the air. Some folks get quite acrobatic during their flingings and do flips and such. Others land on their arms or miss the blanket completely and a trip to Samuel Simmonds is in order. I always thought the poor bearded seals that gave up their lives to become a boat cover were getting payback.

It was no surprise when the ambulance crew radioed to inform me they were en route to the hospital. It was two a.m., but the sun hadn’t dipped below the horizon for weeks and we had another four weeks of midnight sun ahead of us. Nalukataq could go on for hours.

Joe and I had been back in Barrow for close to a month. I figured Ray would have stormed his way into Alaska within seconds of his uncle notifying him that he’d seen me, but still no sign of him.

It hadn’t taken Tobias long to alert Ray. After Bernadette had left the hotel room at Captain Cook and Joe had fallen asleep, I’d pulled out my laptop, pinged three different I.P. addresses, and hacked into Ray’s e-mail.

There it sat, the damning message.

Ray,

I seen Maggie at the airport in Anchurege. She looks different, but I knowed it was her. Remember that thing she used to say about turtles and peanut butter? Well, the woman done said that. She goes by Ann now, but it’s her Ray.

Toby

The response:

Good job, Toby. Use my cell. Text me if you get more information.

Well crap. If Ray started using texts instead of e-mail, I wouldn’t be able to track his movements as easily, but that didn’t matter. We were ready for him.

We. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to get things out in the open with Joe and Bernadette. I honestly couldn’t understand why I hadn’t told Bernie sooner. A quick bit of twenty/twenty hindsight gave me the answer to that. The battered, beaten shell of a woman who stepped off the plane in Barrow four and a half years ago wasn’t the woman sitting on the bed in that hotel room spilling her guts.

That empty shell had to heal. Then, it had to be filled with love, trust, and friendship. It took years, but now not only did I have friends and love in my life, I had two people who accepted me for who I was even after I’d lied to them. Not just little white lies such as I love the purple-zebra-print purse you gave me for my birthday. Not, oh, I love football. Not, faking-orgasms-deception, but lies about the very core of who I was. And yet, after getting over the shock, not only did they accept me, they were willing to risk themselves to help me face my problems.

As I waited for the ambulance crew to clear the hospital and return to Simmonds Hill, I hacked servers and e-mail accounts to catch up on Ray’s activities. Still nothing of interest on his personal account, so I bounced on over to the Washington County Sheriff Office’s mainframe to see what I could find. That’s when I discovered his leave request. Ray had two weeks off starting July fifth. Only two days away.

I went back to his computer and searched again. Surely, he had his itinerary e-mailed to himself, but there was nothing. He must have gotten a new e-mail account with his smart phone.

Had he discovered that I lived in Alaska? Had he figured out I was in Barrow? It would’ve taken a lot of tedious work. Not something I’d expect Mama and Ray capable of, but they were tracking three million dollars, not to mention seeking revenge. They’d crawl naked across broken glass laced with arsenic and hydrochloric acid to find me.

Ray was coming to get me, but I was ready.

When my shift ended, Huffman gave me a ride home. It was Joe’s day off, but he was awake and had breakfast waiting for me. The smell of bacon and coffee enticed me into the kitchen. Omelets and toast rounded out the meal. I sat at the table and poured cream into my coffee. Joe leaned on his elbows across from me. The sight of him still took my breath away. His hair was sticking up, and he needed to shave. How was it possible for anyone to look that sexy without a shower?

“How was work?” He smiled. His dark, scraggly beard made his smile that much more radiant. My knees melted, but I resisted the urge to swipe all the food off the table and ravage him on the spot.

Instead, I sipped my coffee and told him about the plethora of calls. I wasn’t sure how to bring up the information about Ray. I waited until we’d eaten and I’d started clearing the table before saying, “I found out that Ray is going on vacation on the fifth.”

Joe scooted his chair across the floor. “What? How’d you learn that?”

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow silently asking, Are you sure you want to know?

He shook his head. “Do you know where he’s going?”

“I haven’t been able to figure that out yet, but I’m working on it.”

He stood and walked around the table. His arms encircled me, one hand on the small of my back. “Babe, I won’t let him hurt you.”

“I know,” I whispered into his chest. It felt so good there. So warm, so comforting, so secure. I wanted to melt into him and stay there forever, but couldn’t. There was something he needed to see, something that I dreaded, but it had to be done.

Taking his hand, I led him into the living room and sat him on the couch. I pulled my laptop out of my backpack and set it on the coffee table. While it booted up, I said, “There’s something I didn’t show you and Bernie. Just couldn’t deal with it. Not really sure I can deal with it now.”

Joe squeezed my knee to reassure me.

“Remember the day you found me on the bathroom floor crying?”

“Oh, babe.” He touched my cheek and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Yes.”

“I’d stumbled onto this video.” I queued it up and hit pause. “I’ll let you watch it while I take a shower, okay? When I get out, we can talk about it.”

He leaned across the cushion and gently kissed me. “We’ll get this guy.”

I nodded and stood. As hard as I fought them, the tears mixed with the hot water from the shower and rolled down my cheeks. Just thinking of the video of Deputy Hatcher cataloging her injuries was too much for me to handle. My tears dried up about the same time the water became tepid. My fluffy, blue robe held in some of the heat, and I padded across the carpet to sit next to Joe on the couch.

He turned toward me, face white, jaw muscles twitching. “Did Ray rape you?”

Unable to speak, I could only nod.

“Oh, hell, Annie. I’m sorry.” He reached for me, but stopped himself. He’d been a cop long enough to know not to touch a rape victim, but he wasn’t a cop to me. He was my lover. I scooted across the sofa and buried myself in his protective embrace.

After a minute or two, I righted myself and explained the video. “I ran across this a couple of months ago, and I’ve been following its process through the sheriff’s department.”

“And?”

“Sheriff Riley launched an internal investigation and called the district attorney to deal with Hatcher’s claims.”

His brows rose. “Really? I figured he’d bury it.”

“Better than. He followed protocol so no one could question his actions, but IA cleared Ray after a week.”

“A week? What the hell? Those things usually take months to complete.”

“Not if you’re buddies with the sheriff.” I let out a disgusted grunt. “And get this. The district attorney dismissed the case because he claims the video can’t be used as evidence because of chain-of-custody concerns.”

“What concerns? The doctor was with the coroner’s office.”

“Exactly my response.”

“What happened to Hatcher?” he asked.

“She resigned.”

He shook his head. “Dammit. That’s too bad.” Absently, he rubbed my knee. “So, why did you show me this?”

“Well, you see. I thought it’d be a good idea to leak the video on the same day Ray goes on leave.”

“What do you mean, ‘leak’?”

Again, I cocked an eyebrow. “I have magical skills.”

“Are you ever going to let me in on those?”

“Not until you’re retired.”

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re right. If he’s ‘on leave’ when this goes public, people will think he’s hiding.”

“Yep.” I grinned. “People will infer that he’s on the run. Even if they don’t think something shady is going on, he won’t be available to rebut anything that’s implied. Nor will he be able to twist things into his favor.”

“Damn, woman. You’re wicked.”

“Sure am. Let me prove it.” I stood and untied my robe. The soft fabric slid down my arms, baring my shoulders. Slowly, I let it caress my body until it lay in a pool at my feet. Then, I stepped to Joe, straddled his lap, dug my hands in his hair, and kissed him. His hands cupped my bare ass as he positioned me over his erection. Slowly, he glided into me and within seconds, we were moving together, our moans scattering the cats.

Afterward, in post-coital bliss, it occurred to me that Joe and I had discussed one of the most traumatic events of my marriage, and yet it was all forgotten. The love and caring Joe offered me healed all the bruises and abuse inflicted by Ray. So much so, that I could turn to Joe even after discussing rape.

****

The fifth day of July was cold and foggy. A storm brewed on the Chukchi sending angry waves crashing ashore. The roiling sea mesmerized me as I walked along the beach. A piece of driftwood sat by an abandoned fire pit. Using my hoodie as a cushion, I sat on the log and watched the gray water churn.

How far I had come. My resilience surprised me. Didn’t know I had it in me. How many times had I considered dying? How many times had death seemed my only option? That happiness would find me again seemed impossible, and yet, here I was happier than ever before. All those countless self-help books I’d read over the years in hopes of becoming a better person hadn’t helped one bit. Mainly because the underlying theme of them all was “forgive and forget.”

According to them, anger and hate only breed discontent and bitterness. Cancer would riddle my body if I held onto my desire to get even with Ray. I’m sure those self-help gurus knew of what they spoke, but I knew myself. If I didn’t deal with Ray face-to-face, I’d never be free. I’d be forever living in the shadow he cast over me.

One last glance at the tumultuous ocean, and I was ready for round one. Ding!

Bouncing IP addresses from Tel Aviv to Texarkana to Timbuktu, I e-mailed a copy of Hatcher’s complaint, the e-mail, the video, the internal investigation reports of and a copy of the DA’s ruling, to every television station and newspaper in Arkansas. And, for good measure, I dropped a copy into a well-known, rabid journalist’s inbox at a major news channel in Atlanta. Then, I sat back and waited.

It took less than twenty-four hours for the incident to become headline news.

Camera crews set up outside the Washington County Sheriff’s Office. Safe and secure in my arctic lair, I watched Sheriff Riley’s press conference. His hair had thinned, and his waistline had thickened. I couldn’t help but recall his taste for sugary desserts. How many times had he threatened to steal me away from Ray because of my cooking? At the time, I thought I’d be better off with the pudgy sheriff than Ray, but now I knew better. Both men were lying bastards.

Riley stood in front of a bank of microphones. His uniform strained against his stomach, and sweat dripped off his forehead. “Deputy Malloy is on a scheduled annual leave. His absence is not an admission of guilt. The Washington County Sheriff’s Office conducted a thorough investigation into Deputy Hatcher’s claims and found Deputy Malloy innocent on all counts.”

I turned off the television. I already knew the lies Riley was about to tell.

If Ray was coming to Barrow, he could charter a private plane or the more likely scenario, he’d fly Alaska Airlines. So, I recruited my friend, Janice. Long dark winters with nothing to do but knit creates a bond with some folks. Janice and I had spent the previous year’s dark days struggling over creating fluffy, wool socks. She won the battle. I ended up ripping out my work and making a scarf.

When I called and invited her to lunch, she accepted without hesitation. We met at Arctic Pizza. Over warm, buttery breadsticks and ranch dressing, we caught up on each other’s lives. Mine was a wee bit more dramatic than hers. I didn’t go into details, but Janice was smart enough to fill in the blanks.

I slid Ray’s Facebook profile page across the table and said, “I need to know if he’s on a flight and/or when he’s in the terminal. I know you’re not supposed to do that, but it’s really important that I know he’s on his way here.”

“Shouldn’t the cops be handling this?” she asked.

“They are, but I need a backup plan for my own sanity.”

She looked at the picture. “Oh, my, I’d notice him in the terminal.” She picked up the picture. Ray’s golden, all-American good looks were gone. His hair was greasy, his skin pock-marked, and his teeth were grimy. “He’s your ex?” she asked in surprise.

“In my mind he’s an ex,” I explained.

“You know, I despise my ex-husband. The only way I’d piss on him if he were on fire is if I peed gasoline.”

I laughed. “I know the feeling.”

With a hug and promises to get together again soon, we parted.