“And I could be crazy. They could catch him in Kansas or Nebraska tomorrow.”
They had arrived back at the McGinty house. Jackson was waiting at the end of the walk with a tall man of about forty-five with short-cut hair, in a plain wool suit.
The place was busy now; Clara could see a number of vehicles there. Writing on the vans identified them as belonging to forensic crews.
Jackson walked down to the car with the tall man. By the time they reached the vehicle, both Thor and Clara were out of it, waiting. She saw that Thor knew the tall man; they greeted one another briefly.
“Erikson,” the other man acknowledged.
“Detective Brennan,” Thor said, and introduced Clara to the man.
He eyed Clara curiously and then said, “You had quite a bad time, so I understand,” he said.
“I found Amelia Carson, yes,” she said. “And naturally I’m passionate that we find her killer,” she added softly.
“Will you be heading to the Fate now with Connie Shaw?”
She hesitated, aware that Brennan might protest her determination, and insist that non–law enforcement personnel must not be involved.
“Clara is returning to the island with us,” Jackson said.
“She was given a tour of the island when she arrived and witnessed a great deal that may help us now,” Thor told him.
“And,” Jackson added, “Marc Kimball has seen her perform. He’s a huge fan.”
“She’s been quite a help easing into any access we might need,” Thor said. “We were at the Hawthorne Hotel today with Clara and her cast when we discovered that Connie Shaw was out here.”
Brennan was grave. “You’re willing to do all this, Miss Avery? You can just board your ship and be with your cast mates, away from all this. I have men watching over your friends. We don’t usually allow civilians to place themselves in danger.”
“I won’t be in danger, sir. I’ve been asked to be a guest by Marc Kimball—I believe that I can work as a liaison.”
Brennan nodded. “I’m not a Fed, so it’s not really my call anyway. And however it happened, you might well have averted disaster here today. But, we do have two actual murder sites. And, I thank God everyone is in on this because we do need all the manpower we can get.”
“We’re going to stop by the Seward station—we’d like to see anything new that your officers might have gathered and, as you know, they were working with the video from the hotel when we were there earlier,” Thor said.
“All right. I’ve had techs working over on the island today. Phone service is still pretty nonexistent, but we’ve got the internet going, so anything that you can manage by Wi-Fi is up.” He hesitated. “My officers are having difficulty dealing with Mr. Kimball. He’s played the outraged citizen on them. He doesn’t want his house invaded.”
“As she mentioned, Clara can help us with Kimball,” Thor said.
“That’s good,” Brennan said. “But, if you have any difficulty with him as far as access to what you need, let me know. There’s not a judge out there who won’t give us warrants for a search of any real property on that island under these circumstances.”
“Will do,” Thor promised.
Brennan shook his head with exasperation. “FBI, police, Coast Guard—so many people working on this. We have to come up with something. It’s almost like this guy is a space traveler—he’s here, there, gone. He knows that there’s no security other than the desk at the Nordic Lights Hotel. He knew when people would be on the island. It’s uncanny. Unless of course—”
“We have two killers,” Thor said.
“Working in conjunction,” Jackson added. “We are working that angle,” he said.
“Get out to the island, then. We have communication now—please keep it going,” Brennan said.
“Will do,” Thor promised.
They headed back to the car; Thor went to the driver’s side. Jackson opened the door for Clara, giving her the front passenger’s side. She murmured her thanks.
They had been driving a minute when she noted that Jackson and Thor seemed to be silently communicating; Thor glanced into the rearview mirror now and then.
And at last, Jackson said, “Yeah. Two. Has to be.”
“But who is calling the shots?” Thor wondered aloud.
“Tate Morley,” Jackson said flatly.
“With a local, someone with local access, someone who knows Alaska—specifically, Seward and Black Bear Island,” Thor said.
They reached the police station. Officers nodded and acknowledged Jackson and Thor—and looked curiously at Clara, smiling at her politely.
One officer led them through a maze of desks to a small office in back. A young woman in uniform quickly rose from her desk to greet them.