Chapter Six

The flash drive sat on the coffee table while Claire cooked dinner, and remained there after Jodie came home. They ate together on the couch with the flash drive sitting in a ceramic bowl between their propped-up feet. Claire stared at it as she explained to Jodie everything she’d discovered over the past day.

“So why don’t you plug it into a computer and see what it is?” Jodie asked when she finished.

“It’s been sitting in a freezing mailbox for days,” Claire said. “It needs to... I don’t know, thaw out or acclimate to room temperature or something before it works right.”

Jodie furrowed her brow. “Is that true?”

“I don’t know,” Claire admitted. She used the bottom of her beer bottle to make a circle on the arm of the couch. “Ruck died for whatever is on that flash drive. But whatever is on that flash drive killed him. Wyman is clearly a piece of shit, so I want to do whatever I can to get him off the island. But at the same time...” She shook her head. “What if I’m okay with ignoring whatever it is? What if I decide it’s not worth the risk? I’ll have to live with knowing I chose myself over... drugs? Guns? Whatever the hell Wyman has brewing out there. The longer I put off learning what it is, the longer I can live without knowing if there’s a line I’m willing to cross.”

“You can take as long as you want, Claire. But I think we both know which side of that line you’ll land on.”

Claire took Jodie’s hand, linking their fingers together. They sat silently for a few seconds.

“So...” Jodie’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Tell me more about this mailwoman who was flirting with you.”

“She wasn’t--”

Jodie laughed and leaned back. “Of course she was flirting with you!”

“She couldn’t have been thirty years old,” Claire countered.

“So?”

“I’m a few years older than thirty.”

Jodie narrowed her eyes in playful suspicion. “So am I. Are you implying that makes someone less attractive?”

“Absolutely not, my love. But people that age tend to be a little blind to true beauty. She wasn’t flirting with me. It was the uniform.”

“She wasn’t trying to get out of a ticket, babe.” She toyed with Claire’s collar. “Although I do admit, the uniform is quite fetching.”

Claire rubbed the jumpsuit over Jodie’s thigh. “I’m pretty fond of yours as well.”

Jodie leaned in and kissed Claire’s lips. “Would it be easier for you if I was here when you looked at the file, or would you rather be alone?”

“I think I have to be alone. But thank you for the offer.”

“I’ll be in the bedroom if you change your mind.” She stood up and slipped her hand out of Claire’s.

Claire looked up, almost panicked. “What, now...?”

Jodie bent down and cupped Claire’s face. “Yes, Claire. Now.” She pecked Claire’s lips. “Whatever you find on there, we’ll deal with it together. But you need to get through it. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be.”

“All right. You’re right. Of course you’re right.”

“Call if it’s too much.”

Claire watched her go, then looked at the flash drive. She sighed and got up, snatched the drive off the table, and went to the laptop they mostly used for Netflix and email. She figured out how to plug the device into the side, sat down at the dinner table with the screen angled toward the wall. She didn’t think anyone would peek in the windows, but she figured a little paranoia would be good until she had some idea of what she would be dealing with.

She found files separated into folders that were labeled with the names from Rucker’s notebook. She chose George’s, clicked on a jpg at random, and found herself looking at George Lile sitting at a table outside Gail’s. It looked like it was taken in the summer. His posture was slightly hunched forward, as if he expected to get up and leave at any second and wanted to be ready. He was looking in the direction of the ferry, eyes narrowed against the sun.

“Come on, Ruck, why are you taking pictures of all these guys? They’re never doing anything.” She scanned the table behind him and the wooden flooring by his feet to see if he had a baggy of drugs he intended to hand off. Nothing. He could have been any random tourist or resident waiting for a friend to arrive, if not for the anxious energy that was apparent even in a still photograph. There was absolutely nothing in the image to pique the interest of--

Then it clicked.

She opened a few more images, her skin getting cold as the remnants of her dinner soured in her stomach. She clicked through the folders and saw the other men from Rucker’s hit list across several months, all of them at or near the ferry lanes. It was like one of those Magic Eye posters; once she realized what she was looking for, she couldn’t help but see it.

Jodie came out of the bedroom sometime later. She was dressed for bed in a long T-shirt, and she slowed on her way to the kitchen. Claire was seated at the table, her uniform blouse off so she was wearing the white V-neck undershirt. The computer was on but her face was turned toward the window instead of the screen. She didn’t know how long it had been since she stopped opening images, but it must have been at least ten minutes.

“Honey? Are you okay?”

Claire shook her head. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Jodie came over and crouched next to her chair.

“Bad?”

Claire nodded.

“Tell me.”

Claire looked at the computer. She swept her finger across the track pad, clicked, and an image appeared on the screen. Jodie looked at it.

“Okay,” she said. “That’s one of the men, isn’t it?”

Claire clicked on another image without saying anything. It showed the same man, but this was a different day going by his outfit. Another picture, another day. She watched Jodie, who scanned each photo with growing confusion.

“He’s not doing anything, babe.”

“Ruck saw something that made him take the picture.” Claire’s voice was strained. She clicked back through the pictures she’d opened. “Do you see anything that might make a sheriff take a photo of someone at the ferry lanes?”

Jodie shook her head. “I’m sorry. I-- wait.” She sat up straighter, standing on her knees instead of kneeling, and leaned closer to the screen. She pointed at a teenage girl sitting on a bench at the edge of the frame. “Is that girl with him...? Go back to the picture of him walking in front of the ticket office.” Claire opened it. “There’s another girl right there.”

Claire nodded, furious with herself for not seeing it before. The men were rarely centered in the shot, but off-center or askew. Claire thought it was due to the fact they were usually in motion when the pictures were taken, but now she could see the truth. Rucker had framed the shots perfectly to include girls who were walking behind the men, or seated near them.

Jodie backed away from the table. “What is that, Claire?”

“You know,” Claire said.

“No,” Jodie said. “No, it’s not... no.”

Claire pushed the computer so the screen wasn’t aimed directly at her.

“Wyman is the middleman,” Claire said. “That was in Ruck’s notebook. He had the basics figured out, or at least a pretty solid theory. The women come in on boats from who knows where. Maybe Canada. They could start in the Pacific and come down the Salish Sea. They arrive somewhere on the island... I also don’t know where. Ruck hadn’t figured that out yet, but he was trying to find it. I think if the assholes were smart, they would use different places every time.”

Jodie had filled a glass with water, but she just stared down into it as she leaned against the counter and listened silently.

“Wyman or one of his goons picks them up. Take them to the six abandoned houses. Then hold them there until... I don’t know, until they have someplace to take them.”

“Until someone buys them,” Jodie said. “Say what it is.”

“Yeah,” Claire said softly.

Jodie came back to the table. “How could Cal just let this happen? I mean, fuck!” She slapped the table next to the laptop. “Just go in and burn the fucking place down!”

Claire stood up and put her arms around Jodie. “It’s not that simple.”

“I don’t care about court or any of that shit.” Jodie still sounded enraged, but she folded herself into Claire’s embrace and accepted the hug. “They’re holding women prisoner, Claire. They could be out there right now.”

“I know. But if I run in there guns blazing, we have no idea what Wyman will do. They could just kill the women they’re holding. The only bright side to this is the weather. The ferries are on reduced service, and I highly doubt whoever is bringing the women in will risk transporting them when the water is half ice. They’re not going to get anyone else for a while, and whoever they have now will stay on the island until the thaw.”

The anger had faded out of Jodie’s voice when she spoke again, leaving only fear. “Get them, Claire. Please.”

Claire didn’t know if she meant get the bad guys, or save the women, but either way she nodded. “I will, Joe. I will.”

***

It was easy getting Jodie back to bed, not so easy convincing her to stay there alone.

“You’re not going out there tonight. I know what I said, but... no, please. I don’t believe in bad omens, but Rucker--”

“I’m not going out there,” Claire promised. “The place is in the middle of nowhere, so I’d have to use my headlights just to keep from ending up in a ditch. I’m not about to walk into a place I’ve never even seen with my car lit up like Christmas. But there’s something I have to do. I promise I’ll be safe.” She smoothed down the blanket over Jodie’s stomach as if she was tucking her in, then kissed her lips. “I’ll be a phone call away if you need to hear my voice.”

“I love you, Claire.”

“I love you, too. Try to get some sleep.”

Jodie nodded. When Claire reached for the lamp, Jodie said, “Leave it on? Just for tonight. Since you won’t be here.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

She reluctantly put her uniform back on. As she was about to leave the bedroom, Jodie stopped her.

“Where’s your hat?”

“I don’t have a hat.”

“The Smokey the Bear hat.”

Claire smiled. “That was Ruck’s. I wouldn’t feel right wearing it even if they’d given it to me.”

“Sheriff should wear a hat.”

“I don’t have--” Claire stopped herself. “Seriously?”

Jodie smiled and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s part of your armor.”

Claire sighed, shook her head, and went to the closet. She took out the black Stetson and placed it on her head. She looked back at the bed and held her hands out to either side.

“Better?”

“Much better. Go take care of business, Deputy Curran.”

Claire touched the brim of her hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

***

Randall was at the front desk when Claire showed up. He smiled when he saw the hat, but his forehead was creased with confusion. “Boss? What are you doing here?”

“I need to have a conversation with the prisoner.”

“Have you even slept today?”

Claire tried to remember. She was sure she’d closed her eyes for a few minutes after dinner. It didn’t matter.

“I’ll get some sleep in a bit.” She let herself into the bullpen and headed across the office. “Anything I need to know?”

Randall slipped off his chair and followed her. “Minnie came in for a little while this afternoon. Harvey Moses headed home not long after. I called a couple of our other volunteers, and none of them seemed very confident about coming out in these conditions. Same with the dispatchers. So I thought I’d hunker down for the long haul. I got Jennifer’s Kindle, and some puzzle books, and I brought a whole thing of soups, so I’m pretty much all set.”

“Good. Thanks, Randall.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, like I said, boss, I told Jennifer I’d be pulling the night shift, so I’m really not sure what you’re doing here.”

“Uh-huh. Calls?”

Randall twisted his lips, annoyed at being ignored. “Well, we had a minor car accident outside the general store but that was it. No one’s going out in this weather. Well, no one sane.”

“Is that a crack at my sanity, Deputy?” Claire said without looking back at him. “I am your superior officer.”

“Does that mean you’ll stop stealing my lunch from the fridge?”

“Tell your wife to stop making those chicken sandwiches and maybe it’ll be safe.”

She held up her hand before they entered the holding cells so he’d know the bantering was over. “Wait here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He put a hand on her arm and lowered his voice. “Randall and Claire time right now. No badges or titles. What are you doing here?”

Claire thought about keeping him in the dark, but decided he’d earned her trust. “I’m dealing with something that’s going to take a lot of my time. This is why Ruck wanted me in charge. You’ll have to cover my butt here with the day-to-day stuff until I’m finished.”

“Ten-four, Sheriff,” he said.

He dropped his hand, staying in the hall as she opened the door and stepped into the cold back room. George was lying on his cot and barely lifted his head at the sound of her arrival. She walked up to the bars and stared at him.

“Get up.”

“I’m comfortable.”

“Get on your fucking feet.”

That got his attention. He lifted his head and stared at her long enough that she thought he’d refuse again. Finally he swung his feet over the edge of the cot and pushed himself up. He moved slowly, like an old man whose joints had gone rusty in the cold. He strolled up to the bars and held his hands out to either side.

“What happened to civility?”

“I gave you a chance to tell me your name. You didn’t take advantage of it. So I’m going to give you one more way out. We already have you, so you have an opportunity your friends don’t. You can talk. You can be cooperative, tell us what we need to know so we can put a stop to this. It might help you in the long run. Maybe get you a shorter sentence.”

George smirked. “Doesn’t matter if I’m in prison fifty years or two hours. If I turn rat, it’s going to be a life sentence. So I think I’ll just sit tight and see how things play out.”

Claire moved closer to the cell. “You might want to worry about surviving this jail before you think about the future, Grumpy.” She was standing directly in front of him, only the bars separating them.

“I think I’m going to do just fine in here.”

His arm shot through the bars, his hand reaching for the gun on her hip. Claire’s hand closed around his wrist before he could get her weapon. She pulled him hard against the bars, twisted his arm, and slapped his hand painfully against the metal. The sound he made was choked between a gasp of surprise and a shout of pain, and his face twisted in frustration.

“God, no wonder you’re the first one I caught. You know who I am. You heard the stories. You know what I survived. Did you really think that you would be the one to end me?” She let go of his hand, shoving him away so he stumbled away from the bars. “I’m giving you a chance to come out of this better than any of those assholes. To save me a little trouble. If you’re too stupid to see the opportunity, then I’m not going to waste any time on you.”

“Stories. Heh.” He shook his head. “You have stories. You think you’re the first person who’s tried to go after Den? You think this is where he started? The only reason he’s here right now is because he’s the best at what he does. I’ve seen cops, entire police departments, feds, try to take him down, and they all failed. Who are you? Some cop. You think you’re going to scare me into giving up my guy? You can go fuck yourself.”

Claire stared at him without blinking, then shook her head and walked away. “You want to burn along with your pals, fine. I kind of respect the loyalty of a rat fully embracing the ship as it sinks.”

She left the cells. Randall was leaning against the wall but joined her again as she returned to the bullpen.

“I didn’t catch all that, but it sounded intense. Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m going to say no right now,” Claire said, “but I’ll keep the offer in mind.”

Randall went to reception while she went into her office and closed the door. She looked at the clock and did some mental math. The time zones didn’t work in her favor, but she didn’t want to wait until morning. She picked up the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart even though she’d sworn she would never use it. She sat down and closed her eyes, half-hoping there wouldn’t be an answer.

There was a click, and she made a face so she wouldn’t make a sound.

“This is Mallory.”

“Faye. This is Claire.”

She could almost hear Mallory waking up. She did hear the sound of blankets being pushed away, pajamas sliding across sheets. The silence stretched out long enough that Claire could imagine Mallory walking out of the bedroom before she said anything. Faye Mallory, Elaine’s sister, the woman who was once going to be Claire’s sister-in-law, the agent who made it her mission in life to chase Claire across the United States when she believed her to be responsible for Elaine’s murder.

She was also the person who rallied the troops to speak up for Claire when she finally turned herself in. Mallory was the reason Claire was a free woman now. They mended their relationship as much as they could, but Claire knew Mallory still partially blamed her for Elaine’s death. It never would have happened if Claire wasn’t a cop, or if she hadn’t blown her cover. Claire knew that because she felt the same way. They were civil on the extremely rare occasions they had to talk, but they’d never been and never would be friends.

It was going to make asking her for a favor incredibly awkward.

“Do you know what time it is?” Mallory asked.

“I do,” Claire said, “and I apologize. But you know what it means, right? For me to be calling you at all, let alone in the middle of the night.”

Mallory sighed heavily. “Yeah. Fill me in.”

Claire recapped the past week as concisely as she could, then explained what she’d learned from Rucker’s notebook. Mallory listened without interruption, but occasionally made noises of understanding. Claire could hear her sitting down, tapping on a keyboard, evidence she was taking notes. She wished she’d thought of Mallory before Grumpy mentioned the feds, but she wasn’t going to waste time kicking herself over it.

“The name?” Mallory asked when Claire finished.

“Wyman, Dennis.” She spelled it, then named the other men Rucker suspected as part of the group. “The man I have in custody is George Lile.”

Mallory typed something. “Wyman has a big presence. Lots of suspicion, but nothing that stuck. He’s been off the radar for a few years.”

“Looks like he finally found a project that spoke to him.”

“Let me send you some people. I can call in a few favors at the Seattle Field Office and you can have backup by morning.”

Claire looked out the window. “That’s not very likely. We’re on the front edge of a blizzard here. I think the ferry is going to officially suspend service in the morning.”

“Damn. I didn’t know it got that cold up there.”

“Climate change,” Claire said.

“I guess.” Mallory sighed. “So you’re stuck. I know you, Lance, and I don’t doubt--”

“Curran.”

Mallory paused. “Excuse me?”

“Claire Curran.” Silence. “People generally call me Claire now, but my last name is Curran. Jodie and I got married.”

“Oh. Right, I knew that. Congratulations.”

Claire regretted saying anything.

Mallory cleared her throat. “Well, whatever name you’re going by, you’re still the same person who joined a gang of bank robbers to protect the woman you loved. You’re going to do something very noble and borderline stupid. Would it do any good to say to sit tight and wait for the thaw?”

“Probably not.”

“Right. So instead I suppose I’ll go with my second-best advice. Be careful. Wyman touches a lot of very hot stoves without getting burnt. He’s probably clever, he’s definitely dangerous.”

Claire said, “I’ve fought dangerous and clever people before.”

“Be that as it may,” Mallory said. “Elaine would have wanted me to say it.”

“Yeah,” Claire said quietly. “Consider it noted.”

“I’ll put in the request on those names and email what we get as soon as we get it.”

Claire said, “Thank you, Faye. How, um... how’s Toni?”

“We don’t have to make small talk,” Mallory said. Another pause, and then with a slightly kinder tone. “She’s fine. We’re both doing well.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

“Jodie?”

“Good. She’s good.” She ran her finger along the edge of the desk, imagining Mallory doing something equally mundane to fill the silence. “Thank you for your help. I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Be careful. I mean it. You’re used to doing this Lone Ranger thing because you didn’t have options. You have a badge now. That comes with certain advantages. And restrictions.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Good night, Faye.”

“Goodnight, Claire.”

She hung up and looked out her office window at Randall’s back. Mallory was right. She had options, but she also had people who could be hurt or killed. In the old days, she took risks because she was only risking her own life. She leaned back in her chair and pushed her hands through her hair. That would be the real trial of this job, she realized. Randall, Harvey Moses, even Minnie and the other volunteers were at risk.

But that was the job. If she ever wanted to be a good sheriff, she’d have to find a way to accept the fact her people might suffer because of it.

***

There was a quiet knock on the office door just after daybreak. Claire was at the wall looking at a topographical map of the island, having marked the unnamed road where Wyman and his men were hiding out. The road was almost completely obscured by trees; she could only see it because she knew it was there. The houses were about a half-mile from the main road, surrounded by sparse woods, but anyone being held prisoner there would see it as an impenetrable forest.

Randall knocked again, then poked his head in without waiting to be invited inside. “Hey, boss. A civilian wants to have a word with you.”

From behind him, out of sight, Jodie said, “Tell her the civilian brought coffee and doughnuts.”

Claire frowned. “I don’t want to give the impression we can be bribed.”

“They’re maple bacon,” Jodie called.

“Let the bribery commence. Did you bring one for Randall?”

Randall said, “Oh, I already got my bribe back at the desk. How do you think she got this far?”

Claire shook her head. “I’ll mark down your disloyalty in the ledger.”

Randall stepped out of the way with a smile. Jodie came inside with a to-go bag from Coffee Table Books and greeted Claire with a kiss before she took a seat in front of the desk.

“How’s traffic out there?” Claire asked.

“Actually not bad. No wind, the snow stopped falling, and it’s supposed to get above freezing for a few hours around noon.”

Claire pulled up a chair and sat down. Her knee bumped against Jodie’s, but neither of them repositioned.

“That’s good,” Claire said as she accepted her doughnut. “Maybe it means the weather will break soon. We can get some people in here to help us deal with Wyman.”

Jodie shook her head and swallowed her bite before she spoke. “Not likely. The internet said ferry service is suspended for at least two days because of icing. And that’s if things don’t get worse, which they might, because this is just a little breather before the real storm. Plummeting temperatures, more freezing rain and snow. It’s going to be a hell of a weekend.”

“Damn,” Claire said. “At least that means Wyman and his guys are frozen out, too.”

“Have you made any progress on that?”

Claire said, “I called Faye and asked for some FBI assistance. I should have everything I need to know on these guys in a few hours.” She gestured at the map. “I was trying to see what shoreline was closest to their camp and would also be safe enough for multiple landings.”

Jodie said, “Oh. Here I was hoping you’d taken advantage of the standby room for at least a couple of hours.”

“I tried sleeping, Jodie, but I just lie there and think about what I could be doing for the case--”

“You want to know what you can do for the case?” Jodie snapped. “You can rest your body. You can let your brain recharge. You lie awake thinking of what you can do, and I lie awake thinking about what will happen if you slip. If you’re not at a hundred percent at the wrong moment, you could be too slow, you could die, because your brain was foggy or you weren’t paying complete attention. I want you to sleep, Claire, I want you to be ready for whatever happens, and why is that such a fucking big thing to ask?”

She deflated when she finished speaking, her elbow on the desk, hand on her forehead. Claire stared at her, stunned and silent, fully chastised. She thought about George grabbing for her gun, and if she’d been half a second slower in springing her trap. She’d been so confident that she would be faster than he was that she’d stepped right into a very dangerous position.

“You brought me coffee...”

“I brought you decaf,” Jodie said weakly.

Claire smiled. “Clever lady.”

“You don’t have to sleep for eight hours.” She swiped at her eyes in case any tears had slipped free. “Just lie down, in a real bed, with the lights out. Stay there for a little while. That’s all I ask.”

“Okay. I can rest in the standby room and let Randall cover things for a bit.”

“Thank you.”

Claire stood up and bent down to kiss some brown sugar from Jodie’s top lip. “Thank you. You’re obviously right. I love you. And I’ve been pushing myself too hard this week. The burn-out was going to happen sooner or later, and I can’t risk it happening when I’m going against someone like Wyman.”

“You’re welcome,” Jodie said. “And I love you.”

“I suppose you’ll be standing guard outside the room to make sure I don’t sneak out.”

Jodie said, “As much as I would love that, I can’t. I have to go to work. Everyone is taking advantage of today to prepare for being snowed in. That means getting their cars serviced, which means the garage is already running behind and it’s not even officially open yet. But luckily I’m fully rested and ready for a full day of hard work.”

“Show off.” Claire finished her coffee and grimaced. “I must be off. How did I not realize that was decaf? Wow.”

Jodie stood up and put her hands flat on Claire’s shoulders. “I’m going so I can get the garage ready. And the earlier I leave, the more sleep you get.”

“You can tell Randall to babysit me. Send you reports every hour.”

“I would love that. I’ll tell him on my way out.” She kissed Claire’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Claire said. “Now go... I want to take a nap.”

Jodie smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Claire watched her go and finished her doughnut. When she left her office, she went to where Randall was sitting and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Did Jodie tell you your mission?”

“She did indeed. I’m going to follow orders, because she brings the good doughnuts. Also I’m more scared of her than I am of you.”

She patted his shoulder. “Smart. Very smart. I want you to call some people, see if any of our lovely volunteers are willing to camp out here when things get rough again. We’ll provide them with food and anything else they might need, but I want people here to watch our guest.”

“You got it. I already got a verbal promise from Harvey Moses that he’ll take over for me when I head home, so he’ll be my first call.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Mm-hmm,” Randall said. “Uh, not to be a buzzkill, boss, but I want to be able to give Mrs. Curran a good report...”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

She walked away, forcing herself not to look back when the phone rang. The standby room was more accurately a closet with an army surplus cot, a wool blanket, and two pillows. Its main appeal was a lack of windows and distance from the bullpen so the phones were less of a distraction. She took off her belt and placed it on a shelf, untucked and unbuttoned her uniform shirt and hung it in the small portable wardrobe. She paused and ran her fingers over the cold metal star on the shirt’s breast pocket.

Jodie called the badge “your armor,” and the gun was “your sword.” Once it had felt unusual to put them on, to call herself a police officer again after so long spent on the other side of the law. Now she felt exposed without them.

Claire sat on the cot, toed off her shoes, and laid down. She heard Randall’s voice as a comforting rumble echoing down the hall. He sounded calm and in control. She put one hand behind her head, the other on her stomach, and crossed her feet at the ankle. She didn’t think she would actually sleep, didn’t think she actually needed to. Just lying down and taking a breather was restorative enough. It would do the trick and she could get back to work.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if she closed her eyes...

Just for a second.