Ten

The next morning began with the duo of a ringing phone and someone pounding on my door. I sat up in bed and tried to get my bearings.

“Beth, open up!” Viola said from the hallway.

I grabbed the burner phone I’d hidden under my pillow. “Be there in a sec, Viola.” I unfolded the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s me, Beth,” Detective Majors from St. Louis said. “I have news.”

“Shoot. There’s someone at my door. Can I call you back in a bit?”

“Yes, as soon as possible.”

“Will do.” I folded the phone and jumped out of bed.

I opened the door just after Viola knocked again. “Sorry, what’s up? What time is it?”

“It’s early, but your presence is requested.”

“Where?”

“Community center. Let’s go.”

“I need a minute to get dressed.”

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby. Just slip some stuff on. No time for prissy.”

I was never prissy. “I’ll be right there.”

I closed the door and gathered the phone again. I tried to ring back Detective Majors, but my burner couldn’t find a signal—I tried holding it under the pillow, but it couldn’t even find that small signal Detective Majors had called in on. Frustration zipped through me.

Primitive is what I wanted, I silently reminded myself.

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was only five a.m. I was frequently up early, but not quite this early. It was later in St. Louis, but Detective Majors knew how early she’d called; she must have something good.

I was going to have to accept that I wasn’t going to learn her news right away.

I threw on some clothes, pulled the moose hat I’d purchased from the mercantile over my unruly hair, and brushed my teeth. I hoped someone had coffee somewhere as I exited and locked my room.

“Here,” Viola said as she handed me a cup.

“You read my mind.”

“I don’t have anything to eat, so we’ll have to have breakfast later. Let’s go.”

She already had her mud boots on. I slipped into mine and hurried to follow her out to her truck.

“What’s going on?” I asked as she started the engine. It was cold outside, and I could see my breath again.

“The girls still aren’t talking. One of them drew a picture that looks like you, so I’ve been commanded to bring you to the community center. That’s where we set them up. I was there late, but Maper stayed with them overnight.”

“Did it look like they were hurt after they were cleaned up?”

Viola shook her head. “It doesn’t appear so. Dr. Powder examined them again, and he said they look skinny, but not too, and not malnourished. They seem about the same age—maybe eight or nine—but there’s no resemblance between them. They still aren’t talking.”

I nodded. “Either they can’t, or there’s a reason they’re silent.”

Viola shook her head. “I hope it’s not a bad reason, but I can’t imagine there’s any other.”

“Does Dr. Powder think they can talk?”

“He says they have the equipment.”

“Psychological reason.”

“Best guess. We’re not experts here, Beth, and the girls are going to have to go to Juneau. Social services will have to step in. Gril would really like to find out what he can about them before they’re carted away, though.”

I nodded. “What about the man Gril arrested yesterday?”

“I don’t know anything about the man Gril arrested yesterday. Tell me more.”

I told her the entire story, from beginning to end. We had to sit out in front of the community center for a few minutes so she could hear all the details.

“Goddamn, a body? That’s … terrible. Do we know of a missing woman?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see the body when it was turned over, but the ME said there was a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Linking hearts. Gril didn’t mention knowing about any missing women, but he said lots of people go missing in Alaska.”

“Any tie to the body from a few months ago?”

“Crossed my mind, too. Not that I know. I wanted to ask Gril if it had been identified yet, but there wasn’t a good moment.”

“It hasn’t been identified. I would know.” Viola paused. “Linking-hearts tattoo, huh?”

“It sounds like a common tattoo, but I can’t remember seeing one on anyone.”

“Me either. No wonder Gril wants the girls to talk. He probably thinks everything is connected,” Viola said.

“I think that’s possible.”

I followed her inside the community center. It served the exact purpose it was named for; many meetings, gatherings, and classes were conducted inside. I’d joined a knitting class a few times, and the Petition had recently published a notice about an upcoming potluck honoring the late Bobby Reardon, the man who’d originally begun the Petition. But today, the center was set up as a bedroom. I didn’t know where the two twin beds had come from; they were headboard to headboard in the center of the big main shared space. Tables held piles of folded clothes and snack foods and drinks. There was a small kitchenette in the back of the center, and I smelled a lingering scent that made me think bacon had been cooked recently.

“Hello, Beth, Viola,” Gril said as he greeted us inside the door. The two girls and Maper sat on one of the beds. She was reading to them from what looked like a children’s book, something I would think would be too young for them, but their attention was rapt. I couldn’t get a good look at them, just that one had light hair, the other dark. Gril stood in front of me, seeming to want to block my view.

“Hey,” I said.

He lowered his voice. “One of the girls drew a picture of you about an hour ago. They woke up really early. Maper called me right away, saying they made their beds as if it was something they did every morning. She fixed them some breakfast, and then Annie took a piece of paper and a pencil and drew this.” He held up the picture.

“I see,” I said.

It was a drawing of a woman with short, white, messy hair and a scar on her head. It wasn’t a terrible picture, a little better than a stick-figure drawing, but it didn’t show the promise of a special artistic talent. But the scar told the story. It was unquestionably me.

“When Maper asked her if she wanted to talk to you, she nodded adamantly,” Gril said.

“Okay. I’ll see if I can get anything out of them.”

“Thanks. Whatever you can. Last names, places, other people in their lives. I know absolutely nothing. We think they can write other words besides their names, but they haven’t volunteered.”

I stepped around him and walked slowly to the bed. In tandem, the girls looked up and noticed me. I remembered their eyes, but now that they were cleaned up, their differences were apparent. Annie was unquestionably Tlingit, and Mary was unquestionably a white girl. They looked like two normal little girls; cute, both with expressions that made me think they were intelligent and fully aware.

They blinked at me for a long moment. I didn’t look much different than I had the day before. I took off the hat. My hair was bedhead crazy, but the scar was my most memorable feature. Mary smiled with recognition, but Annie jumped from the bed and ran to me, wrapping her arms around me tightly.

“Hello,” I said as I hugged her back. I looked at Mary. “Hello.”

Mary didn’t continue to smile, but she didn’t seem bothered, either. Annie hugged me tighter. I let her hug until she was done.

When she finally pulled away, almost a full minute later, I said, “How are you?”

She smiled and nodded, and pointed at me. The girls were much less … in a state of shock? I’d thought that’s what they were yesterday—shocked. Today, their bright eyes didn’t have that same flat gleam. They seemed fine.

“Oh, I’m fine, too,” I said. “It’s good to see you again.”

Annie nodded and then took my hand. She guided me back to the bed and patted the mattress on her other side as she sidled up next to Maper again. Annie pointed at the book and looked up at Maper. Maper smiled at her and then looked at me. It would be great to enjoy a day of being read to, but I knew we had more serious things to consider.

“Annie,” I said, and put my hand on her arm, “I would love to sit and hear the story, but can I ask you some questions first?”

Annie and Mary looked at each other over Maper’s lap. Their silent conversation made me think they’d known each other a long time and were very skilled at communicating with each other with their eyes.

“Girls, I’m going to run and check on some things in the kitchen,” Maper said. “Spend some time with Beth, okay?” Maper closed the book and stood, walking away from the bed before anyone could stop her.

The girls scooted closer to each other. I made myself comfortable on the bed, folding my legs and facing them. A card table had been set up nearby, where more paper and colored pencils had been placed. I reached over and grabbed some of each.

“Have you had enough to eat?” I asked them.

They nodded, but were clearly unsettled that Maper had left. Mary kept looking toward the direction the older woman had gone. I hoped we were doing the right thing for these children, but I knew we also needed some solid answers.

“Good. It’s nice to see your smiles,” I said.

They weren’t smiling, but I smiled at them as I spoke. They sent me a couple of weak ones in return.

“Everyone here wants to make sure you’re okay,” I said. “Do you feel okay?”

They both nodded, but their eye contact was now spottier than my room’s cell phone coverage. They’d quickly become attached to Maper. I reached out and gently grabbed one of each of their hands. They were okay with the touch; they didn’t flinch. In fact, they relaxed a little as their fingers curled around mine.

“Good,” I said. “Everyone wants to find out where you live. Do you want to help me understand where that is? Could you maybe tell me or show me?”

They frowned and shook their heads.

“Why not?” I said. “Are you scared to go home? If you are, you just need to let me know. I promise you both, we will keep you safe and we’ll never let anyone hurt you.” I hoped that was true. I hoped these two girls were going to be safe forever.

Mary shook her head, but Annie looked at me with earnest brown eyes. She neither nodded nor shook her head.

“Is there something you want me to understand?” I said to Annie.

She frowned.

“You know, it’s okay to talk if you want to. No one is going to be mad at you for talking. But you can also draw if you want.”

Annie let go of my hand and pinched her fingers around her lips, but I wasn’t sure if she meant she couldn’t talk or she wasn’t allowed to.

I handed her some paper and a colored pencil. “That’s okay. Can you maybe draw something? That picture of me is great. Can you draw a picture of someone else, maybe someone you know or someone you live with?”

Annie blinked at me.

“How about where you live?” I said. “Here, let me show you where I live.”

I had zero drawing ability, but the Russian dome wasn’t too challenging. I finished quickly and held the picture toward the girls.

They smiled at each other.

“I know, I’m a pretty bad artist. You’re good, though. Your turn. Show me where you live.”

Annie took the offered paper and pencil. She looked at Mary, who thought a long moment before she nodded her okay.

Annie got to work drawing a house. I watched with almost breathless anticipation. At first, I thought she might be drawing Lane’s house, but that wasn’t it. Then I wondered if she was drawing the dilapidated shed, but that wasn’t it, either.

Gril had made his way to a spot behind my right shoulder and was watching as Annie drew.

“That’s great,” I said when Annie handed me the picture. “Really great.” I still didn’t recognize it, but I heard Gril’s breathing change pace. “Can you tell me where your rooms are?”

Annie looked surprised for a second, but then pointed at the top window.

“Is your room at the top of the house?” Gril asked.

Annie looked at him and flinched. It was one of the most upsetting things I’d ever witnessed.

“Annie, it’s okay. Chief Gril would never, ever hurt you. I promise,” I said.

It didn’t matter. Even though Gril stepped away, Annie had shut down. She dropped the paper and pencil and turned to Mary. They hugged, holding on to each other tightly as one of them made a noise like the one I’d heard on the other side of my door, except quieter this time.

I looked toward Gril. Had he heard, too? He stopped and faced us again. I mouthed the words, Did you hear that?

Gril nodded.

I’m sure that’s the noise I heard, I mouthed again.

But I wasn’t sure I was being as clear as I wanted to be. I stood and went to him. I spoke in a whisper. “There is no doubt in my mind that these girls made the noises both Randy and I heard. I am one hundred percent sure.”

Gril nodded again and resumed his exit from the community center. He must have recognized the structure. I went back to the girls and looked at the picture again. It suddenly became clear. It was Randy’s house.

Annie’s interpretation was squatter than it was in real life, and that’s probably why I didn’t recognize it at first. Besides, I’d only seen it the one time.

Maper came out from the kitchen and beelined to the bed. I got out of her way as she sat by the girls. They glommed on to her for dear life. I felt terrible for upsetting them, but it looked like Gril had something now, which was surely better than nothing. I stepped away from the bed as Maper’s presence comforted the girls and hurried to catch Gril.

“That Randy’s house?” I said as I reached him by the front door.

“Sure looks like it might be,” Gril said. “I’ll find out.”

“Do you know who the dead woman is yet?” I asked.

“No idea. We’re working on it.”

“What about Lane?” I said.

“What about him?”

“What have you learned?”

“He’s waiting for an attorney before he talks. I was going to bring him here to see if the girls recognized him, but I didn’t want to scare them with another possible stranger. I need some official help here. You did great with them, but we could use a therapist or a social worker or something. I’m ready to get some help.”

“What about the name you gave me?” I said, just as something ran into my legs.

It was Annie. She was upset, and held on tight to me. I held on to her, too.

“It’s okay,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

“What name?” Gril asked me.

I pointed to my head and kept my voice low. “The therapist in Juneau who specializes in recovery from assault. You gave me the name a while ago. I haven’t called her yet, but maybe she could help the girls.”

“I’ll look her up when I get back to the office. Right now, I think I need to talk to Randy.”

“Makes sense.” I looked down at Annie. “Hey, sweetheart, does the name Randy mean anything to you?”

She looked up at me and shook her head, her eyes so very earnest again. It was almost too much to take, and I felt tears burn behind my own eyes.

“I’ll be in touch soon,” Gril said as he turned to leave the center.

I looked down again at the girl wrapped around me. What in the world was going on in the woods of Benedict, Alaska?