Page 12 of Cold Light of Day

But admittedly, Grier was stuck on her. And when she got that distant look in her eyes, he instantly connected with her because he knew that look all too well. Felt it prick his soul.

She has secrets.

But what did it matter? Everyone had something they held close, including Grier.

Like the fact that he wanted to know Chief Autumn Long. He never called her by her name for fear she might hear something in his voice that told her too much. He couldn’t afford to take the risk of getting to know her better, even though he was desperate to do just that. She’d asked him to dive, and he couldn’t say no. At the end of this long, dark cave, he shouldconsider that he could use a friend on the inside of a law enforcement agency, but he recoiled at the idea of using her friendship in that way.

The fire in the woodstove crackled, burning hot, and pulled him from his thoughts. Grier set bear stew to warm on the propane stove. After the chief’s request, they arranged to meet on the boat in the morning. Grier had secured her tanks, along with his own, and borrowed a friend’s boat, heading across the Chilkoot Inlet to Haines where his friend Tex, who owned the expensive and necessary equipment, could fill them. The nearest dive shop was in Juneau—about forty minutes by plane.

Grier realized that Cap hadn’t barked to be let in, and the slightest concern raked up his spine. He moved across his small cabin in socked feet to open the door and call his dog, though he really couldn’t think of Cap as belonging to him. The intense darkness overwhelmed him, along with a cold gust of chilly night air bursting down off the mountains of the Kakuhan Range.

Fortunately, Cap raced through the door and Grier crouched. The dog could well enough live outside with his layered fur, perfect for Alaska or Siberia, but Grier welcomed his furry friend’s company, and Cap seemed to want to stay inside.

“You really are a godsend, you know that?”

Cap responded in that way of his, making funny dog sounds that weren’t quite barking but almost sounded like he might speak English if he practiced enough. Grier stood and filled Cap’s food and water dishes, then ladled bear stew into a bowl for himself and they ate in comfortable silence.

This was the life—almost.

After both Cap and Grier had eaten their fill, Cap fell asleep next to the fire and Grier went to the far corner of the small space where his laptop sat. Lucky for him the cabin wasn’t so far out that he didn’t have electricity or access to the internet via a low-earth orbiting satellite. His palms slicked as he sat atthe desk he’d cobbled together from a board and a few blocks he’d found in the outbuilding next to the cabin.

He hadn’t wanted to think about what he would find when he opened his email, yet he needed to hold on to hope—it was all he had. Unease coiled in his gut when he confirmed his in-box was empty and he still hadn’t heard from Krueger—the one person who could help him. Krueger updated him once a week, on Tuesdays, and it was Thursday night. Two days late.

Why hadn’t Krueger contacted him?

Grier could think of no good reason for the man’s silence. He hung his head and tried to grasp what little hope someone had offered today.

“God brought you here for a purpose greater than your own.”

He wanted to cling to the words, but Otis was a crazy old man and Grier was a fool to believe him.

SEVEN

As Autumn crossed the street, she knew she’d waited too late to offer supper as a peace offering, but she’d texted Dad she was bringing food, so that would have to do. She entered the Lively Moose and made her way through the dining area, nodding at anyone who happened to glance up and see her. During the evening meal, the lights were dimmed to project a quiet ambiance, and the patrons stayed longer and ate more. Autumn had already called in her pickup order, and she walked around the long counter to enter the back of the house, then through the kitchen, where she found the office and her grandmother sitting behind a desk.

Pearl Lively was in her early seventies, but with her shiny auburn hair and big hoop earrings, she might as well have been in her forties, ten years older than Autumn. Running a successful restaurant in nowhere Alaska kept her young, she always said. Pearl and Autumn’s grandfather, Ike, founded the restaurant long before Dad moved Autumn and Nolan to town from Topeka, Kansas, twenty-plus years ago when she was only ten. At the time, her grandmother had instructed Autumn to call her Birdy, her preferred term of endearment regarding her status as grandmother. Pearl was a nature lover and bird-watcher,and especially loved the local eagle reserve. So Birdy it had been ever since.

Birdy stared at the computer, working on the books she always did herself, or at least ever since someone embezzled ten thousand dollars from them in the early years. From then on, she trusted only herself with the money—not even Grandpa Ike. He managed the restaurant, and she kept the books, and together they’d grown the popular place that drew the tourists across the inlet from Haines. Autumn was glad they’d found success here, but she was more grateful for the chance to get to know and love them after Mom died.

She could thank her father for at least that one thing—bringing her and Nolan to Alaska.

On the wall above where Birdy sat, a placard was painted with Scripture: “But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day (Prov. 4:18).”

“Nice to see you back, Autumn. Glad you got that nasty business behind you.” Birdy didn’t pull her eyes from the computer. “I heard about that woman who nearly drowned today. I’m so relieved that help arrived in the nick of time.” Birdy shook her head. “Grier is such a nice young man.”

Birdy waited until that moment to grin and wink at Autumn, and she couldn’t possibly miss the meaning behind Birdy’s “nice young man” comment. But she could ignore it.

Autumn took the chair across the desk. “Yeah, don’t get any ideas. I’m not looking for a nice young man. Especially someone I know so little about.”

“And why not? Oh, if I was young and single, you can bet I would be searching for a nice young man. The day I met your grandfather was the best day of my life. After fifty-five years together, we’ve had our ups and downs, but that hasn’t diminished our love for each other. In fact, it only gets better with time.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Autumn said.

Birdy poured tea from a thermos into a teacup. “You want some?”

“No thanks. I’m just waiting for the takeout dinner for Dad.”

After drinking from her teacup, she said, “Sometimes you only need to know what a person is made of. Their mettle. And I’m referring to Grier here, in case you were confused.”

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