Page 20 of Her Wild Coast Promise

Pretending like I wasn’t just lost in space, I lean back and flip the light switch. Brian clicks the remote and an image flashes to life on the wall.

“Agent Snow’s team ran a forensic analysis of evidence collected from both the vet clinic arson fire and Soren Creek survey camp.”

Agent Snow uses a red laser pointer to identify two rows with nearly identical numbers. “We’ve got a direct link between the two events.”

“Damn,” I say. Brian, Hunter, and I had wondered if there could be a connection, but I wasn’t expecting to find real evidence.

“There’s a component in this accelerant commonly used in a timing device,” Agent Snow says.

“That makes total sense.” I glance at Hunter.

“That’s why those bombs went off simultaneously at the camp,” Hunter says. “And why that clinic flashed in both the reception area and the operating suite.”

“Like two separate fires,” I add, nodding.

“There’s more,” Agent Snow says, advancing to a new image. She details the specific burn patterns found at each fire and their significance, but I’m already convinced.

Both fires were set by the same individual, or group.

“You ready for the good news?” Agent Snow asks, raising her eyebrows as she scans the room, meeting each gaze. She clicks the pointer and a slide with a fingerprint flashes into view.

“This was taken from a gasoline canister found on site after the fire.”

“It’s not that caretaker’s, right?” I don’t want to get excited about a dead end.

“Negative.” She clicks the remote again and a face appears.

“This is our guy?” Hunter asks, clicking his pen open, closed, open.

The man is mid-forties. Pale complexion, with ruddy cheeks, like he drinks. Blue eyes so cold and sharp they could have been cut from a glacier.

“His name is Victor Katovich,” Agent Snow says.

“Are you serious?” Hunter bolts from his chair, the chiseled edges of his face white with tension. “I know this asshole. He and my brother were on the same commercial crab operation. Evan was convinced the guy was vibing him. I tried to track him down, but he’s slippery as fuck.”

“He’s believed to have worked in one of Russia’s secret security forces. He immigrated to the US right before 9/11 and worked a variety of jobs, including the crab fishing operation. He’s been off the radar until recently…”

Agent Snow catches my eye. “This print only proves he touched the canister. Not that he’s responsible for starting the fire.”

“We need more,” I say, nodding along, while inside, puzzle pieces jostle apart, together, apart, fitting together in new ways. What does a former Russian goon have to do with an arson fire? And if the survey camp fire and the vet clinic arson are related, does that link Katovich to both also? It’s confusing. What’s in this for him?

“Which brings us to our other lead,” Brian says. “Kalle Jensen, the phony ecoterrorist.”

After the survey camp fire, the two men who saved Lexie utilized personal resources to locate Jensen. The ID had been stolen two years ago. Brian’s team was alerted at the border when the man they believed to be utilizing the ID tried to cross into Canada, but it was a false alarm, putting us back at square one.

Agent Snow clicks the next slide, a map of Alaska showing the Kenai Peninsula, west coast, and the McKenzie Valley. There are four red dots on the map. “These are locations where the stolen ID has been confirmed.”

“Is that dot at the top Fairbanks?” Hunter asks from where he’s leaning against the wall, his arm crossed.

“Yep. A hardware store,” Brian says. “Likely he drove all the way there just so we wouldn’t connect him.”

“Too late for that,” I say. “Do any of these sightings fit with Katovich’s movements?”

“No,” Brian says. “But we’re using our federal biometric database to try to match his real ID.”

I raise an eyebrow. Biometric information like facial recognition use in investigations is highly controversial and a technology the state legislature has resisted. This is yet another reason why our task force work is so important. The feds have fancy tools and resources, while my team has boots on the ground, and manpower.

“Let’s get this guy,” Hunter says, sending me a steely gaze. “Before he builds any more bombs.” It’s no surprise he’s keen to bring in the person who lured his sister Lexie into that camp. At first, we thought she was the target. Now we know his goal was to destroy the locket, the one with the UDP chip.

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