“What?” Mike asked.
“There it is,” Thor breathed, because, where Mandy had stood, he thought he saw what he had been seeking.
“There what is?”
“His trail.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A boat. Look at that line. He’s been using a boat himself. Something incredibly small, but must have a motor or he’d never make it here or back. He dragged it here—it’s how he kept any of the patrolling Coast Guard vessels from seeing it. I’m willing to bet if you head further to the west you’ll find marks like this, as well. That one strange line that only shows under a direct ray of the sun. He’s come and gone with ease, Mike. And I’ll bet he is off the island now. He chopped up his latest victim and headed straight back into Seward.”
“We’ll search with a fine-tooth comb, farther to the west,” Mike assured him.
“I’m heading back to Seward,” Thor said. “Now.”
“I’ll find what there is to find,” Mike promised quietly.
Thor turned, left Mike and drove the snowmobile straight for the docks. Just as he reached them, his phone—via the Wi-Fi hookup—rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and was grateful that the call had come through.
It was Jackson. Thor answered quickly. “Yeah?”
“Morley called Clara.”
“What?”
“Yes, he’s actually called her twice. I have our techs working with her cell provider, finding satellite usage, pinpointing a position. We’ve traced the number—”
“And it goes to a pay-as-you-go phone?”
“No. That’s just it. It was a business line purchased by one of Marc Kimball’s companies.”
“Kimball’s companies?”
“Yep.”
“Morley threatened her?”
“He’s taunting her—not a direct threat. You know. Defending his actions, touting his prowess—and letting us know that he’s near.”
“Kimball is off the island,” Thor said. “And Tate Morley was on the island. But I believe he’s off it now, too. I’m heading to the docks right now.” He hesitated. “Has anyone checked? Did Kimball come aboard the Fate?”
“Passengers haven’t boarded yet,” Jackson said.
“Marc Kimball can buy his way many places,” Thor reminded him.
“There were no orders out not to let the man board a ship,” Jackson said. “I’ll look into it.”
“Thanks.”
“Yeah, get here, Thor. I’ve called the Alaska State Troopers. They’ll get a man down to me so we can sandwich Clara out of here. I’m going to get her to the station.”
“Perfect. I don’t like this. I’d like to know that she’s safe—in a place filled with law enforcement and with guns all around. She needs to be at the station. I’m on my way, heading to Seward—get there as fast as physically possible. I’ll call when I’m near so I know where to head to meet up with the two of you.”
Thor left his snowmobile and hurried down the docks.
A Coast Guard cutter was there, along with a captain ready to sail him across the water and back to Seward with all speed. Thor scanned the shoreline of Seward and the docks.
It wasn’t until they had nearly arrived that he saw something that made him pause. “There! Can we pull up?” he asked the captain.
“There?”
“That little motorboat, the one tied poorly,” he said.
No one who really knew how to handle a boat—or gave two figs about it—would leave a boat tied with a simple bow; any sailor worth his salt would have secured the little vessel.
The water was always somewhat rough; waves lapped at the cutter and the rowboat. Thor trusted his coordination and his years living in the wintry waters and wilderness and leapt from the one vessel to the other.
It was dotted with bits of something red. He hunkered down and touched it.
Blood.
He’d found the killer’s way on and off the island.
Off—the killer was here now. In Seward.
He looked up and when he did, he saw a number of the cruise ships down at the distant cruise port.
Among them, the Fate.
“Thor!”
He heard his name spoken softly and he looked up to the dock. The sun was shimmering down; it was late afternoon...maybe even evening, but the sun was still a powerful entity in the sky. Streaks of gold seemed to highlight someone standing there.
Mandy Brandt.
She didn’t say more; she seemed to look at him with infinite sadness. She pointed at the Fate, and then she was gone.
And Thor turned to look at the captain of the Coast Guard cutter.
“Get me to the Fate, immediately, please!” he said.
“Special Agent Erikson, there is protocol and there are restrictions—”
“I’ll fix them. Just get me on that ship. Now!”
*