Maper and Viola asked me to leave; the girls needed less stimulation for a while, they thought. I gave each girl one more hug and told them I’d check in with them again later. Viola ran me back to the Benedict House, where I got into my own truck and drove it as fast as the muddy elements would allow toward the Petition. Once there, I jumped out of the truck and, burner phone in hand, hurried to get inside.
Unfortunately, the call to Detective Majors was destined to be further delayed.
“Beth?” Orin said, coming around the corner of the building when I was almost to the door.
My hand went to my heart and I made a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a scream.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just walking around the building at the wrong time,” Orin said, overexplaining. “I was coming around to knock. If I’d known you were out here, I would have announced myself sooner. Sorry.”
He and I had already discussed his seemingly sneaky ways, but I had become convinced he was just naturally stealthy.
Orin looked like a somewhat younger version of Willie Nelson, with long gray braids and faded jeans. He always smelled like weed, but I’d never seen him smoking. He had a thing for peace signs, both saluting with them as well as displaying artwork and pictures of them. Our friendship had grown over the past few months, turning into something siblings might have, and we’d skated over his hints that made me think he might know my secrets.
If I were to make a list of the people I’d thought about sharing my secrets with, Orin would be in either second or third place. Viola was first. I was split between Donner and Orin coming in next. Donner because he was law enforcement and it was good for law enforcement to know about possible threats, no matter how remote. Orin had a secretive past in government work and dark web research, from what I could glean, at least. While I enjoyed our friendship, my real reason for wanting to share with him was that I wondered if his skills might help me figure out who my abductor was, and maybe even where he was hiding.
“It’s okay, Orin, what’s up?” I tried to sound like I had it together, wasn’t in a crazy rush.
“What’s going on?” He looked in the direction of Randy’s house. “What’s with all the travel down there yesterday? Do you know?”
The library Orin ran wasn’t directly on the road we’d traveled yesterday, but off it a little, behind the Petition. He must have noticed the traffic from the library’s back windows.
I suddenly saw an opportunity. “Come in. If Gril hasn’t had the chance to ask you to look up some things yet, I’m going to.”
“I haven’t talked to Gril. I tried to call him, but no answer. What’s going on?”
“Let’s get inside.”
I knew I was overstepping. In fact, I told Orin as much. But I also knew that Gril had trusted Orin with many things he wouldn’t have trusted other people with. Maybe Orin could help by answering some obvious questions.
Every day before I left the shed, I made sure I put all my writing away just in case I was surprised by a visitor, as I’d been today. As we went inside, I noticed the piece of paper I’d threaded into my typewriter the day before. Not one word had been written. It wouldn’t do to miss many days of writing; I’d write today, or tonight, whenever I could.
I told Orin everything I knew about yesterday’s strange happenings. He listened with such intensity, it made me slightly uncomfortable. It was like he was waiting to pounce on a lie.
“A body, and two silent girls?” he said when I finished.
“And a mysterious man,” I said.
“Well, there are lots of mysterious men out here. And another body, the one from a few months ago. I can’t imagine there’s any connection to all the new stuff, but who knows. Stuff just happens out here, Beth.”
“I’ve heard.”
“I can’t think of anyone missing. Winter hasn’t hit hard enough for us all to hide away in our homes. Sometimes when spring comes, we find bodies. Old or sick people who can’t get out to seek help.”
“That’s awful.”
“It’s a way of life.”
“I’ve heard that, too. What do you know about Randy?” I asked. “Have you been to his place?”
“I’ve never been to his cabin,” Orin said. “He’s run the mercantile for a while, came here from—I can’t remember. I think we both moved here around the same time, so I probably didn’t pay him much attention.”
“But he came here,” I said. “And he’s living in a house far away from everyone else.”
“As you know, he’s not the only one, and most everyone living that way hasn’t had trouble with the law; well, with local law. Most aren’t the type to keep young girls hidden in their homes, though I admit, it wouldn’t be difficult to do out here. Some folks just like it here.”
“I know.” I paused. “Can you think of anyone who might have visited him, friends or someone? Could someone else have noticed something strange?”
“See there, that’s the interesting question.” Orin leaned back in the chair he’d come to claim as his when he visited. Today, he hadn’t wanted a whiskey. It was early. “Who is Randy friends with?”
“Who?” I said.
“Everyone.” Orin smiled. “Or at least, he’s friendly with everyone, but I don’t know of anyone with whom he has a close relationship. He’s not dated that I’ve seen. We’re not old-fashioned around here—as long as it’s legal, consenting adults, we don’t care who’s sleeping with who. No one tries very hard to hide those things, but I don’t know of anyone Randy has had a romantic relationship with. No one.”
“Does he hang out at the bar after work? Attend community center classes?”
“Not that I know. I can’t say I’ve seen him anywhere but the mercantile. I’ve never given it much thought. He’s great at running his business, and those are some long hours. If I’ve ever thought about it, which, again, I can’t say I have, I’ve probably just thought he wanted to get home, get away from everyone.”
Away from the rat race.
“Okay, so that might still be the case, and maybe the girls, the body, have nothing to do with him. There are lots of cabins in these woods. But what about the girls? There has to be some information about them somewhere, right?”
“I don’t know,” Orin said. “Babies get born out in the wild and no record is ever made. It happens.”
Before I’d moved to Benedict, a place where I had to hurry to another location just to have cell phone and internet coverage, I hadn’t given much thought to the still-primitive places in my very own country. Even the Missouri woods I was familiar with had been more connected to the rest of the world than Benedict.
But it wasn’t just Benedict. Alaska was different than anywhere else.
“Laptop?” Orin asked as he righted the chair. “I’ll need my own computer for anything deep, but yours will give me a good start.”
I quickly made sure my email was closed and then handed him the laptop. “What specifically are you going to search?” I pulled my chair around to sit next to him.
“I’ll start with missing people, women and girls, and go from there.” His fingers flew over the keyboard.
I watched in silent awe as his typing took us to places I might never understand how to reach.
“Were you educated as a librarian?” I’d asked Orin a lot of questions before, but not that one.
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Sort of. Not officially, but I was taught those sorts of skills, along with others. Librarians are the only ones who can keep up with me.” He typed some more. “No recent local reports of missing women, but you said she was frozen. She might have been for some time.”
“That was the impression I got.”
“I know. Okay, what about this?” He opened a page. The headline read “Benedict, Alaska: Twin Two-Year-Old Girls Perish in Fire, Only One Body Recovered.”
“Oh, no. That’s terrible.”
“I remember this,” Orin said distractedly as we both read. “It was right before I moved here, like a month or so. I lived in Anchorage at the time, but I remember this.”
The short article, dated six and a half years earlier, was from the Empire, Juneau’s daily newspaper.
During the summer that year, a house on the edge of Benedict had burned down. This wasn’t a completely uncommon occurrence because of lightning as well as the frequent use of fire for heat and light. And Alaska had wildfires. The focus of the article was, oddly, on the fact that the fire was contained to the house and didn’t spread, but mentioned, almost as an afterthought, that only one child’s body had been recovered. There was no indication of where the other child had gone.
“Could the body have burned … away?” I asked Orin.
“I guess, maybe,” Orin said. “But it’s suspicious. It seems like they would have found some remains. I don’t know, Beth, sometimes our authorities aren’t all that qualified. It could just be uneducated or lazy investigating.”
“Gril?”
“Well, I guess maybe. Others who come over to help us out. It’s just the way it is—we aren’t a priority, and, again, you have to understand that some people move here for that reason. And I wasn’t here until right after, so I don’t know the details.”
I heard the insinuation in his voice, but I kept my eyes on the screen instead of letting him see them. “That’s it? That’s the only article about a fire where a child perished and another’s body wasn’t found? It seems like there should be more than that.”
“Also, Juneau’s paper doesn’t always send someone over to dig for more information, for a few reasons. It’s a different world than Juneau out here, and sometimes the weather doesn’t cooperate.” Orin’s fingers were flying over the keyboard again. “And news changes every day, always something shinier to pursue. I’m not finding any follow-up.”
“What else are you looking for?”
“Names aren’t listed in the article. I’m looking for a death notice.”
“I didn’t see obituaries in any old Petition files.”
“Bobby posted notices sometimes, but not all the time. Here. This is an official state record of death. This was probably the girl they found.”
It listed the date and read: “Two-year-old Jenny Horton. Cause of death: injuries sustained during a house fire.”
“That’s it?”
Orin shrugged. “It gives the official cause of death; that’s all it’s supposed to do.”
“Do you know the Hortons?” I asked.
Orin shook his head. “Don’t think so. They must have left before I got here, maybe shortly after the fire.”
“Can you find where they went? Where the house was located?” I said.
Orin typed and clicked. “I don’t know where they went, but their house was close to where Randy’s is. I don’t quite understand the property lines. I can figure it out in time.”
“This sounds like another possible mystery to add to our growing list,” I said. “Maybe all part of the same one, or maybe not.” I blinked. “What the hell is going on, Orin?”
He closed the laptop. “I’m heading back to the library. I’ll do some searching there and give Gril a call.”
“Wait,” I said as he set the laptop back on the desk.
“What?”
“What about Lane? The guy out in the woods, the guy who seemed to be living way off the grid?”
Orin shook his head. “I don’t know him. Maybe I’d recognize him if he’s visited the library, but I don’t know the name.”
“He knew who Gril was.”
“Okay. Lots of people know who the police chief is.”
“How does that work?” I asked. “How does someone manage to live without electricity, without anyone knowing about them? Can trapping animals and selling their pelts really make someone enough money to live on?”
“Yes, if it’s living simply,” Orin said. “I’ve met some trappers. They are a unique bunch, but honestly, they could be anyone. I’ve met some who couldn’t string together proper English and others who seemed well educated. It’s a lifestyle choice, I suppose.”
“And you never explored out that far?”
“No, I’m not much for exploring unless a computer is involved. I used to be more adventurous, but haven’t been in a long time. The mudslide opening an old logging road, though, I’ve heard of stuff like that happening. I’ll search for information about Lane, too.”
“I think there were some gravestones out by the storage shed, and inside the shed, among other things, were baby clothes,” I said. I’d forgotten those details in my first telling.
“Ugh. Maybe we’re making all of this creepy, Beth. I mean, our imaginations are forcing the connections, but they could all be separate things, easily explainable.”
“Where did those girls come from?”
“Gril will get the answer. He’s good.”
“I hope so.”
“He will.”
I nodded.
“All right. I will get back to you,” Orin said. “I really appreciate you sharing the information. I promise Gril won’t be mad, particularly if I find something to help him.”
I said, “I’ll let him know I talked to you.”
Orin sent me a quick peace sign. I closed and locked the door behind him and finally called Detective Majors. I was very glad when she picked up.