Page 6 of Cold Light of Day

“Thanks for the ride.” He opened the door and hopped out as if glad for the escape, then marched over to his truck and unlocked the back.

She glanced up at the dull, gray sky. The rain had stopped, but probably not for long. She got out of the SUV too because she wasn’t done talking to him yet. He started unzipping his dry suit, his dark-green eyes lifting to meet hers, and for a moment she expected him to hesitate, but nope, he continued to disentangle himself from the complicated water gear. And Autumn should step away.

But she lingered long enough to see he had on a shirt underneath—and still, it felt inappropriate to watch him “undress” as it were. Hating the warmth that rushed to her face, she turned away and walked to where water lapped against the pebbles, the smooth inlet reflecting the mountains on the other side. The beauty of Southeast Alaska never grew old and always took her breath away when she managed to stop long enough to appreciate God’s stunning creation.

It was in the sixties today, so not too cold. She drew in a deep breath of fresh air and tried to imagine swimming in the inlet’s fifty-degree water. Why had the woman been that far out? Maybe she’d intended to commit suicide and then changed her mind? Or had she taken a boat or kayak out and it sank? In that case, why wasn’t she wearing the proper clothing, like a life vest? She could have at least set off an emergency beacon.

Like far too many in Alaska, she might have been lost to the world forever.

Missing, never to be found.

They still hadn’t found Monica Nobel, who’d gone missing back in May.

Time to head back to town. Instead of going to see Dad first, she’d better go to the hospital to check on the woman. Get hername and ask questions. But first, Autumn lingered because she wanted to answer Grier’s earlier question. He hadn’t pressed her on it, but just how much did he know?

He finally approached. Hands in his jeans pockets, he stood next to her but said nothing. The man had a sturdy presence about him, one to which she found herself inexplicably drawn.

Not that she owed him an explanation, but she said, “Yes, I’m still chief.”

After a few heartbeats, he responded. “Glad to hear it.”

“Are you?” The words slipped out, and she wasn’t sure why she cared what he thought.

Her question seemed to surprise him too, and she felt his gaze on her but continued to look out across the pristine water at the lush forests of spruce, hemlock, and pine carpeting the landscape, topped with snowcapped mountains. An eagle flew out over the water.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Carrie had said the same thing. Autumn always tried to do what was right, of course, but her confidence was shaken, and she felt as if she had to prove herself over and over. But maybe not to Carrie and, yeah ... not even Grier Brenner. She didn’t know why, but she was glad she had a fan in this stranger who seemed a long way from home. She still tried to make out his accent, but he didn’t have one, which was odd in itself. Maybe he’d lived all over the place, and Alaska was just another brief stopping point.

She glanced sideways at Grier.

Lines furrowed his brow as he leveled his intense gaze. “How does that work, exactly, that you’re still chief?”

Her heart beat a little too fast. A little too loud. Wasn’t he a bold one? He kept surprising her today, and she was getting way off track. “Alaska state law doesn’t require chief administrative officers to hold a state certification.”

But it remained to be seen if the city council would allowher to keep her job since she had at least one enemy in a high place, who in turn had friends in high places. And now, she definitely needed to redirect the conversation.

“What do you think happened? I’d just like to know how she ended up so far out.”

He shrugged almost as if he didn’t care, but concern lodged in his eyes. “Right, because there’s no boat. I wondered the same thing. She wasn’t wearing the right clothes either, so it doesn’t seem like she was planning to go for a swim. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t feel right to me.”

It didn’tfeelright? Interesting comment.

He remained an enigma, and she only felt comfortable when she knew the people who made up the town she swore to protect. People often came to Alaska to start fresh or disappear, and she should give him the space for either. But like her police chief father before her, she listened to her instincts, and her instincts told her Grier was trouble. Oh, she had no doubt he was a hero through and through, especially after his actions today, but he was also trouble with a capitalT. She hadn’t decided if her instincts were warning her about him in a more personal way, though.

Either way—personal or otherwise—the last thing she needed was more trouble after yesterday’s hearing. She could still lose her job and disappoint her grandparents, who ran the iconic Lively Moose. Her father. And even her Alaska State Trooper brother, Nolan. But mostly herself.

Grier said nothing more, then left her side. She listened to the crunch of his footsteps. He started his truck and it rumbled, then the tires crunched as he turned the truck around. Enough looking out over the water. Her question wouldn’t get answered by staring longer, so she headed back to her vehicle. Grier’s truck sat idling as he hung his elbow out the window.

“I hope you find out what happened...Chief.” He shot her that grin, then drove off.

FOUR

If he’d heard it once, he’d heard it a thousand times—no good deed goes unpunished.

Grier cranked up the heat to chase away the chill. He might never get used to the cold waters of the Inside Passage no matter how much he adapted to this environment. The rain had picked up again—nothing new there—and turned the road back to town slick. He floored the accelerator without concern that Chief Autumn Long would pull him over for a traffic violation. She’d called him a hero, after all. Never mind that she hadn’t left yet. He would be out of sight before she pulled out.

Grier sped along the two-lane road, traveling in the opposite direction from his earlier excursion. The road didn’t actually go anywhere except to connect to a trail and a few cabins in the woods or where the Chilkoot Inlet branched off into the Lewis Inlet, which is where he’d been diving with Tex, his friend from Haines. Tex had taken his boat home, and Grier had driven. He preferred to meet away from prying eyes rather than at the very public small-town marina.

---