Page 17 of So Dark

Heat climbed further up Faith's cheeks. When she and Michael were together, he would always scold her for biting her nails. It was a nervous habit that flared up every few years, starting her first combat tour in Afghanistan.

It wasn’t a good sign that it was happening again. It meant that her stress was getting more difficult to handle, and her mind was compensating by falling back on old coping mechanisms.

“Okay, got her. Took a while because she’s not Cindy Holloway now. She’s Cindy Levinson. She split with Ethan and married a guy named Tucker Levinson, who also happened to be her boss for the last four years of her marriage.”

“Ouch. Also motive. Where do Cindy and Tucker live?”

“Miami.”

Her face fell. “I don’t suppose they’ve been out this way recently?”

“Nope. I have a picture dated two nights ago of the two of them in Dubai having cocktails on a restaurant in the Burj Khalifa.”

She sighed. “Well, shit.”

“I mean, that would be more of a motive for Ethan to kill Tucker than the other way around,” Michael said, “but we’ll keep looking.”

With social media a dead end, they checked public records first. That proved to be a slog as well. Alaska’s public records system was horrifically outdated, and every request seemed to take forever to process.

“Progress really is optional here,” Faith groused as she sipped her third cup of coffee.

“When your state has half the population of Philadelphia, you can get away with a slow-moving records system,” Michael replied. “I do wonder how many people just slip through the cracks up here.”

“Not Ethan and not Valerie,” Faith replied firmly. “They don’t slip through the cracks.”

She expected Turk to give his ordinary bark of solidarity, but when he didn’t, she turned to see him sleeping soundly next to the mattress. The single mattress.

“Um… did they not have double rooms?” she asked Michael.

“I didn’t think we’d sleep tonight,” Michael replied. “But I’m fine sleeping on the easy chair. I do that a lot at home.”

“I mean… we could sleep back-to-back.” He gave her a fishy look, and she shrugged. “Just saying.”

He smirked. “You afraid of bears?”

She rolled her eyes. “Change of plans. You can sleep outside.”

“Hell no. If anyone’s sleeping outside,youare. You’re skin and bones. Bears won’t want you. Meanwhile, I am a plump and luscious treat for the discerning bear.”

She giggled. “Plump and luscious?”

“Like a pound cake, honey. Here are the records. Anything specific we should be looking for?”

“Not yet. I just want to get to know the victims a little bit better.”

“Wonderful. You want Valerie or Ethan?”

“I’ll take Valerie this time.”

“Be my guest.”

He emailed her the records. They did have internet, but it was slow. While she waited for the documents to arrive, she looked back at Turk. In this light, she could see the gray in his muzzle more clearly. Her eyes traveled from there to the scar that ran from the left side of his forehead down his eye and across his lips. That wound had been left by Jethro Trammell. There was another scar—not visible now—where Franklin West had stabbed Turk in the side and a third high up on his ribs where a disturbed former Marine Corps medic had stabbed him as well.

He really had suffered a lot. Maybe the Boss was right. Maybe it would be better to give him a little bit of rest before he reached the end of his road.

Her computer chirped to let her know the emails had been received. She opened them and introduced herself to Valerie North.

She was born in Anchorage and lived there until she was twelve years old. She’d spent the following six years in Juneau, then returned to Anchorage for college. After graduation, she’d lived in Eureka Roadhouse, a small village a few miles west of Nelchina. She’d been there ever since.

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