DANGEROUS HOLIDAY HOMECOMING

Anchorage K-9 officer Jake Nichols returns home for Christmas to recover from the accident that almost killed him—and find a little peace and quiet. But those plans are shattered when his childhood friend Rachel Hart gets caught up in a drug-smuggling ring after her aunt is brutally murdered. Jake quickly discovers that Port Aurora is no longer the tranquil little fishing town he left behind. He promises Rachel that he’ll stick around until he tracks down the killer—and vows to protect her at all costs. Both of their lives are in peril as he battles against the Alaskan winter, a ruthless criminal…and his developing feelings for Rachel.

Alaskan Search and Rescue: Risking their lives to save the day

“Hurry, Rachel. The fire is spreading over the roof.”

The sound of his voice calmed the fear rising in her even as she climbed to the window and grabbed Jake’s hands to hold tight. With her arms hanging out the window and her upper chest lying on the bottom of it, her legs dangled in midair in the bathroom. She tried to move forward, but something sharp scraped her side.

“There must be some glass on my right, but don’t stop.”

“Sorry, I thought I got all the glass out of the frame.”

Another crash sounded behind her. Time was running out.

Rachel managed to shift a bit while Jake said, “I’ll be right back. I remember there was a blanket in the shed.” Jake raced toward the small building.

The scent of smoke and burning wood bombarded Rachel. Someone wanted to destroy the house and Rachel and her aunt with it. But why? Coughs racked her while Jake rushed back. He took the blanket and put it between her and the window frame.

“This should help you move easier.” Then he grabbed her arms and yanked.

“Just get me out.” She imagined the flames eating away at the door and any second bursting into the room…

MARGARET DALEY, an award-winning author of ninety books (five million sold worldwide), has been married for over forty years and is a firm believer in romance and love. When she isn’t traveling, she’s writing love stories, often with a suspense thread, and corralling her three cats, who think they rule her household. To find out more about Margaret, visit her website at margaretdaley.com.

Standoff at

Christmas

Margaret Daley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Who gave Himself for our sins, that He might deliver us from this present evil world, according to the will

of God and our Father.

—Galatians 1:4

For Helen, who introduced me to Alaska

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Rachel Hart left the warmth of her office building to trudge through the snow toward the processing center at the Port Aurora Fishery. The lights on in the building beckoned her in the predawn morning. The sun was just rising to the east in Port Aurora, Alaska, and then it would set by three in the afternoon.

She was used to the winters, having lived most of her twenty-eight years in the town, but today she wished the sun would shine for more than six hours. She looked up at the dark clouds rolling in and quickened her pace. An omen?

She lifted her cell phone and listened again to the message from Aunt Betty. “Rachel, I’ve got to talk to you. Today. Alone. Something’s wrong. I don’t know what to do. I’m taking my break at nine this morning.” Luckily, today was payday, so Rachel could use her position as bookkeeper as an excuse to visit the processing center.

The urgency in her aunt’s voice shivered down Rachel’s spine. What’s wrong? Aunt Betty is always so cheerful and calm. She must have called earlier while Rachel was away from her office.

Entering the building, Rachel walked down the hallway that led to the mail room for the employees who worked in the processing center. It was part of the large break room next to the office where Sean O’Hara managed this part of the company.

When she popped into the break room, Aunt Betty sat at the table with one of the newer employees. “I’ve got your paychecks.” Rachel covered the distance to the two women and handed Betty and Ingrid their checks. “The next one will come with a bonus right before we close down for Christmas.” She wanted to pull her aunt out in the hallway and find out what was wrong, but when she looked at the older woman with touches of gray hair around her face, her brown eyes widened and she shook her head slightly.

“I’m just thankful for the extra hours.” Aunt Betty opened the envelope, looked at the amount and forced a grin, the corners of her mouth twitching.

In past years the fishery had closed down during the winter months, and the crabs were sent to another plant. Rachel had been thrilled about that part of the fishery’s expansion in the last year. So had everyone else, especially Aunt Betty.

“But I’m also excited to have a few weeks off for the holidays.” Her hand shaking, Aunt Betty stuck her paycheck in her pocket.

Rachel wanted to ask the other employee to leave but swallowed those words and instead said, “Me, too. Jake Nichols got in late last night for the holidays.” She should be excited, but a lot had happened between them since they were teenagers. Jake had been her best friend while growing up, but when he left town eight years ago, they lost touch.

“I know Lawrence is glad to see Jake here, especially after what happened in Anchorage in August.” Aunt Betty finished off her coffee.

“What happened?” Ingrid asked, having only recently been hired.

Rachel moved to the mailboxes and began stuffing the envelopes into them, hoping Ingrid left soon. “There was a serial bomber. Jake, a K-9 officer in Anchorage, was working one of the crime sites, searching for survivors or missing people, when the building collapsed on him. He nearly died.” And he had made it clear he didn’t want her to come see him while he was recovering. That hurt—still did.

Ingrid hugged her arms. “Oh my. Search and rescue is dangerous, but I’m finding out it’s even more so here in Alaska with so much wilderness.”

“Where are you from?” Rachel asked as she finished her task.

“Seattle.”

“That’s where Brad Howard’s new partner is from.”

“Who?”

Rachel paused at the exit. “Peter Rodin. Have you heard of him?”

“He was on the news from time to time,” Ingrid said.

Aunt Betty’s eyebrows rose. “About what?”

“His foundation gives money to various projects for the city.” Ingrid rose and headed toward Rachel. “My break is over.”

Relieved the woman was leaving, she moved to the side to let Ingrid pass, while her aunt’s expression morphed into the apprehensive look she’d worn when Rachel first came into the break room.

When Aunt Betty remained in her seat, Ingrid said from the hallway, “Aren’t you going back to work?”

Her aunt blinked several times. “Yes, I just want Rachel to pass a message on to my sister about this weekend.”

Ingrid started toward the end of the hallway but much slower than her usual brisk pace.

As soon as Ingrid turned the corner and disappeared, Rachel moved toward her aunt. “What’s going on? I got your message.”

Waving to Rachel to come closer, Betty pushed to her feet. “I’m glad Jake is home. He’s a police officer. He might know what’s going on and help. I need some...” Her aunt’s voice faded into the silence.

Rachel heard footsteps and glanced toward the door. Sean O’Hara came into the break room.

“Hello, ladies.” Sean’s eyes brightened as they took in Rachel. “Ah, payday. That’s always a good day around here.”

“Yes, it is. I need to get back to work.” As a pallor crossed her features, Aunt Betty took her paper cup, crushed it and tossed it into the trash can by the door as she left.

Her concern growing, Rachel watched her leave as though a grizzly bear was hot on her tail. This wasn’t like her aunt. What did she want with Jake? What had her scared? She’d get in touch with her later. Maybe she would swing by her house on the way home today. Aunt Betty only lived a mile away from Aunt Linda’s, the older of her two aunts, and the one she lived with.

“I saw Jake down the hall. I told him I’d give him the grand tour. I know you two were good friends growing up. You’re welcome to come along.”

“Jake is here?” He and Sean had been friends in high school, too, so it wasn’t that odd.

“Yeah, he couldn’t believe all the changes around here. He wants to see the new vessels, processing center and shipping warehouse.”

Rachel couldn’t shake the worried expression on Aunt Betty’s face. This might be her chance to see if she could talk to her on the floor, rather than wait until later. “Make it the short tour. I need to get back to work. Everyone will want their checks.”

“I just came inside. It started snowing.”

“Right on time, for a change.”

Sean chuckled. “Predicting the weather isn’t an exact science. But I’ll be glad to get home before the hard stuff hits, which shouldn’t be until tonight.”

Jake Nichols turned as they approached him at the entrance into the large processing room. She took in his tall, muscular build, blue eyes and short black hair—the same and yet something had changed in the last couple of years since she’d visited Anchorage. It had to be the accident that nearly took his life in August.

Jake’s look warmed when he saw her. Maybe in the next month they would be able to renew their friendship, and he would come back to Port Aurora more frequently.

“Rachel was in the break room. She thought she would join us like old times.” Sean opened the wide double doors into the cavernous space where the fish and shellfish were processed for shipping to the rest of the United States.

Sean began pointing out some of the additional machines and the areas that were expanded this year. Rachel stepped away and glimpsed Aunt Betty decked out in her protective clothing with white hat and long gloves at the end of a conveyor belt. While Sean strolled with Jake to various stations, Rachel hurried toward her aunt. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel spied Ingrid approaching Aunt Betty. Her aunt locked eyes with Rachel and shook her head. She came to a halt. Suddenly, she felt like she was in the middle of a spy movie, which was ridiculous. Aunt Betty could be melodramatic at times, but usually she was levelheaded.

Ingrid paused next to her aunt and said something. Aunt Betty nodded. Rachel would have to wait to appease her curiosity. She released a long breath and pivoted, searching for Jake and Sean.

She caught up with them near the freezers. “I need to get back to headquarters. It was great seeing you again, Jake. You and your grandfather are supposed to come to dinner tonight. A welcome-home party.”

“I’ll come with you.” Jake slanted his glance briefly toward Aunt Betty.

Did he see that nonverbal exchange between her aunt and her? Jake had always been perceptive, which probably made him a good police officer. Rachel gave Jake a smile, waiting until he shook hands with Sean and joined her before heading out of the processing room. In the hallway leading to the exit, she asked, “What do you think of the new additions to the fishery?”

“Impressive what has been done in a short time. Gramps told me things were automated and upgraded where they could be. What’s in the building next to this one? That’s new.”

“The shipping warehouse. Everything going by boat to Anchorage is loaded easily when the vessel docks right outside. They even dredged the harbor to allow for bigger ships.”

“How much is flown out?”

“Maybe a third—more in the warmer months. Ready?” She peered at Jake as he reached to open the main door. His strong profile had been shaped by the recent events in his life—the lines sharper, adding a hard edge to his features.

His hand on the knob, he peered sideways at her. For a few seconds his gaze trapped hers, and she didn’t want to look away.

“Is something wrong with your aunt?”

“I don’t know. She called upset, but we haven’t had a chance to talk alone yet. I’ll stop by after work to see what’s going on.”

“When she went into the processing room, I said hi to her and she didn’t even acknowledge it. She just kept going. I know I’ve been gone, but that’s not like her. She’s the first to want to know everything about a person.”

“I agree she isn’t acting normal.” Rachel headed into the lightly falling snow and made her way toward the office building.

She’d make sure Aunt Betty came to dinner. She’d been invited. The storm shouldn’t hit full force until after midnight, and if she had to, Aunt Betty could stay at her sister’s.

“Why were you at the processing center? I was surprised to see you there.”

Jake smiled. “To see you. I saw you entering the building and came to say hi. I hear you were promoted to bookkeeper.”

“Yes, which reminds me, I have to finish my rounds and give out the payroll checks. I’ll see you tonight.”

* * *

Midway through the afternoon, Rachel called Sean’s office to see if she could talk with Aunt Betty. His secretary told her that her aunt had clocked out early and gone home. Rachel tried Aunt Betty’s home number. No answer. She might not be home yet.

When Rachel was ready to leave two hours later, she made the call to her aunt’s again, and the phone still rang and rang. Rachel’s worry mounted. What if she was sick and couldn’t answer it? She had looked pale earlier. And why had she wanted Jake’s help?

Rachel hurried to her Jeep and navigated the snow-packed streets to the outskirts of Port Aurora. Aunt Betty’s house was on the same road out of town but before Aunt Linda’s house. Both her aunts and Lawrence Nichols, Jake’s grandfather, loved living a little out from town.

When she reached Aunt Betty’s drive, she drove down it and parked in front of the cabin, not far from the shed where her aunt’s truck was. She was home.

Rachel made her way to the covered front porch, the wind beginning to pick up and blow the snow around as it fell. Rachel knocked. A minute later she did again.

When Betty didn’t come to answer the door, Rachel stepped to the side and peeked into the living room window. She froze at the sight of the chaos inside.

* * *

Jake finished getting the supplies for Gramps and strolled toward the checkout at the Port Aurora General Store. It had been good to see Rachel again. Talking to her this morning made him realize he missed their conversations. While in Anchorage, he’d kept himself busy, and he’d let their friendship slip. He should have come back to town before this. Port Aurora had been his home for years until... He shook the image of Celeste from his thoughts and put the items on the counter. Marge, the owner’s wife, began ringing up his purchases.

A bell rang, announcing yet another customer coming into the popular store near the harbor. Jake glanced toward the person entering. He stiffened. He’d known he would see Celeste Howard—the woman who broke off their engagement eight years ago—during his extended stay at Gramps’s, but he’d hoped not the first day in town.

Their gazes clashed. He gritted his teeth and swiveled his attention to Marge to pay for his supplies.

Marge’s eyes twinkled. “She always comes in right before Brad leaves work and gets a drink at the café. She usually picks him up.” Marge, one of the best gossipers in Port Aurora, waited for his response.

He smiled and said, “Thanks. Merry Christmas,” then grabbed his bag and started for the exit of the store, which was dripping with Christmas decorations.

Celeste intercepted his departure. “Hi, Jake. It’s good to see you again. I heard about your injury. How are you?”

She had meant everything to him at one time, but when he looked at her now, a cold rock hardened in his gut. “I’m fine, as you can see.” Then he continued his trek toward the door, welcoming the blast of icy wind as he stepped onto the porch.

The heartache and humiliation of their breakup, done in front of a large audience at their engagement party, still fueled his anger. After his mother had left him with Gramps and gone on her merry way, he’d been wary of forming any deep relationship. First losing his father in a fishing accident and then his mom because she didn’t want to be a mother anymore, had left its mark. Rachel’s friendship had helped him through those hard times because she had gone through something similar with her own mom. Then when he’d fallen in love with Celeste, it felt so right. But the whole time, she’d been making a play for Brad Howard, the son of the richest man in town, using Jake to make Brad jealous.

Jake climbed into his grandfather’s SUV and headed home. He was glad to have gotten that inevitable meeting over with. The earth didn’t shake and swallow him because he’d seen her today. He was a different man than the one who had naively fallen for Celeste eight years ago.

In the dark of a winter day, Jake turned down the long drive that led to a cluster of several homes, one being his grandfather’s on a few acres. He shouldn’t have stayed in town so long. Although dinner at Linda’s wasn’t for a few hours, he wanted to spend time with Gramps and help him as much as he could around his place. Gramps, at seventy-three, moved slower and wasn’t as energetic as he once was.

When Jake entered his childhood home, Mitch, his black and brown German shepherd, greeted him at the door, his tail wagging. He hadn’t been sure how his dog would do, flying in a small plane, but he had been great. He would miss working every day with Mitch when he returned to the Anchorage Police Department. Mitch had been retired early because he’d lost one of his legs in the accident at the bomb site they had been searching.

“Did you miss me?” Jake rubbed him behind his ears.

Mitch barked.

The noise brought Gramps into the entry hall. “Every sound sent Mitch to the window to see if you were coming home.”

“I stayed a little longer than I planned. I’m surprised at how much Port Aurora has grown, changed.”

“Yes, it’s been a harbor of busyness for the past year. Lots of construction in the summer. The roads still okay?”

“Yes. Five or six hours from now they might not be.”

“If the storm blows through quickly, they’ll have the roads plowed by tomorrow afternoon.”

“All the way out here?” They didn’t when he lived here as a child, but Port Aurora’s population had been only twenty-eight hundred in the winter. With its growth came more needs for the residents.

“Yep, that’s called progress. They don’t plow the long drive, but I’ll get out there and do that tomorrow morning.”

“I can.”

“No, you’re on vacation.”

“I’ve been on vacation for months, and frankly I can’t wait to get back to work.”

Gramps turned and ambled toward the great room where he spent a lot of his time. “Then let’s pray your doctor says you’re ready to go back to work at the first of January. Did you see any old friends?”

“Rachel and Sean.” Since Celeste wasn’t a friend, he left her name out. Whenever she was mentioned, Gramps always got angry.

“How’s Rachel?”

“Fine.” Jake sat on the couch while his grandfather took his place in his special lounger. “We really didn’t talk long. Aunt Betty was upset about something, and Rachel was focused on that.”

“Really? Betty is one lady that goes with the flow. She doesn’t let much of anything get to her. I should learn something from her.”

The landline rang, and Jake reached toward the end table and snatched up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Jake, I’m so glad you’re home.” The relief in Rachel’s voice came through loud and clear.

“What’s wrong?”

“I stopped by Aunt Betty’s house on the way home, and no one answered the door, but her car is here. I just looked into the living room window and someone has tossed her place. It’s a mess.”

“Call the police, stay outside and I’ll be right there.”

“I’m already inside. My cell doesn’t work this far from town. The first thing I did was call you.”

“Make the call to the police and then get out. Okay?”

“Yes.” The urgency in Jake’s voice heightened her concern for her aunt.

TWO

After reporting to the police about the trashed living room, Rachel hung up her aunt’s phone not far from the front door and started edging back. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, her breathing shallow. She should get out like Jake said, but what if Aunt Betty was knocked out on the floor? She didn’t think an intruder was still there since there was no sign of a vehicle other than Aunt Betty’s. But if someone robbed her, and from the disarray of drawers emptied and cushions tossed on the floor, it was obvious that was what happened, then her aunt could be hurt, tied up or even...

No, she wouldn’t consider that. She wouldn’t leave until she found her aunt. The least she could do until Jake came was walk through her cabin and search. Rachel had first-aid training because of all the hiking and camping she did in the warmer months. If Aunt Betty was hurt, she might need medical attention right away.

She moved through the clutter, careful not to step on anything. Maybe this was the only room involved. Maybe her aunt had been looking for something in the living room and...

When Rachel entered the kitchen, it was worse. Everything was out of the cabinets and refrigerator. If someone had been looking for something, they probably found it, but Aunt Betty had little in the way of money. Rachel noticed the television was still in place as well as the small appliances. There was a walk-in pantry near the arctic entry at the back. The wooden floors were littered with flour, sugar, cereal. She would disturb the kitchen if she walked across it. Instead, she’d check the rest of the house first. By then, she hoped that Jake had arrived, and he would know how to proceed.

She walked several feet into her aunt’s bedroom before she couldn’t go any farther because of the mess on the floor, but from that point she could look into the open closet. No Aunt Betty.

A sound from the living room sent a wave of panic through her. It was probably Jake, but just in case, she flattened herself behind the open door.

“Rachel, where are you?”

Jake’s deep baritone voice pushed the panic away, and she came out from behind the bedroom door. “I’m in Aunt Betty’s bedroom.”

“I should have known you wouldn’t listen to me,” Jake mumbled as he came into the short hallway.

“You brought Mitch.” Rachel knelt next to the leashed German shepherd and petted him. “He looks good.”

“I thought if we needed to search for your aunt he could help. He loves tracking. Have you found anything?”

“A mess, as you can see for yourself, but no sign of Aunt Betty. I haven’t looked in the bathroom or the second bedroom, though.”

“I’ll check them and then we’ll wait for the police. You stay here with Mitch. This will only take a minute.” After handing her the German shepherd’s leash, Jake walked toward the open bathroom door and peered inside. “The same thing here but no Betty.”

The door to the second bedroom was ajar but not open. Jake shouldered his way into the room but stayed by the entrance. “She must not be here. Could she have gone somewhere with anyone?”

“Maybe. I suppose she could have fled when she saw the chaos, but she most likely would have contacted her sister or me.”

“Have you called Linda?”

“No, I didn’t want to alarm her if I didn’t have to. If anything happened to Aunt Betty, we would be devastated.” Like when Jake had left Port Aurora years ago. His departure had stunned her, as if he’d taken part of her with him. She cared about the town and its people, but her family and Jake had been the most important people in her life. “I’ll call her, then we can stay inside by the front door.”

While Rachel placed a call to Aunt Linda, Jake picked his way through the mess in the living room to look into the kitchen. When she answered, Rachel said, “I’m at Aunt Betty’s house. Her car is here, but she isn’t. She was upset today, and I wanted to make sure she was all right. Do you know anything?”

“Well, that explains the weird message from her at lunchtime. I was waiting until she got home to call her. Her car is there?”

“Yes, where she parks it in the shed.” Rachel glanced at the chaos and hated to tell Aunt Linda, but she continued. “Someone tore her house apart as though they were looking for something. For all I know, they could have found it.”

Her aunt gasped. “I’ll be right there.”

“No, stay put. The police are on the way. What did the message say?”

“That she should never have taken those pictures.”

“What pictures?” Rachel asked as Jake returned to her side.

“I’m not sure. You know how she’s always snapping pictures. She was excited about some new project and was going to show us this weekend. She told me one day the town might want to even display the photos.”

Maybe that had been what she’d wanted to talk to Rachel about. But then if that were the case, why had someone searched her house? Strange. “Display what?”

“She was being secretive. You know how she is about the big reveal when she gets an idea. Why would anyone try to steal from her? The only things worth taking are the TV and her camera, although it isn’t a digital one like most people use today. Are they still there?”

“The TV is. I didn’t check for the camera in her darkroom, but Jake said that second bedroom was trashed like the rest of the house.”

“Really, I can’t see someone taking it. It’s old. Not something that someone would steal. How about her food processor I gave her for her birthday?”

Rachel remembered seeing it in the kitchen, in pieces. “It’s here.”

A long pause from her aunt, then in a tight, low tone, she said, “Then something has happened to her.” Her voice sounded thick.

Rachel peered out the front window, seeing headlights piercing the snowy darkness. “The police have arrived. I’ve got to go. I’ll be home as soon as I can. We’re probably overreacting.” At least she prayed she was.

“Rachel, let me know what’s going on. If you need my help, call. Are you sure I shouldn’t come over?”

“Yes, she might call you. Someone needs to be there. Besides, the police are here, and they’ll probably kick us out while they check the house. When we find Aunt Betty, she’ll need you and me to help her clean this mess up.” If they find Aunt Betty. She couldn’t rid her mind of that thought.

Jake opened the door for the two police officers from town—the older man, Police Chief Randall Quay, and the younger one, Officer Steve Bates.

The chief shook Jake’s hand. “It’s good to see you back home. What do you think?” He gestured toward the trashed living room.

“I’ve searched the house as much as I could without disturbing anything, but there are some places I didn’t get to check. The closet in the second bedroom, the pantry and the back arctic entry.”

“Aunt Betty used the closet in the second bedroom as a darkroom.”

The chief nodded once, then turned back to Jake. “Can you help me? Since you’re here, I’d like to send Officer Bates on up the road. We are shorthanded with this storm that moved in early. It seems to bring the crazies out.”

“Sure, I can help. Mitch here can track if we need that.”

“Betty is a special lady. She taught me in Sunday school.” Chief Quay moved farther into the room while his officer left. He frowned, his gaze fixed on a broken vase. “She didn’t deserve this.” He pulled out a camera and started taking pictures of the living room.

“I can cover the kitchen.” Jake started forward.

“I appreciate it. We need to find Betty.” The chief turned to Rachel. “Can you make some calls to people she may know and see if she’s with them?”

“I already called Aunt Linda, and she’s not with her. But I know a few others she’s close with at the fishery. I’ll give them a call.” Rachel pulled out her cell to use the list of phone numbers stored in it. She was relieved to be able to help and needed to stay busy to keep from fixating on what might have happened to her aunt. She picked up the phone and began dialing.

* * *

Jake carefully started on one side of the kitchen and made his way around it. Behind the island in the center in the midst of the emptied flour on the floor, he found footprints—one set, too big to be Betty’s, more like a man’s size eleven. He took a photo with his cell of that and anything else of interest. He refrained from touching anything in case the chief wanted to dust for latent prints.

So far no evidence that Betty had been here when this happened—except her car parked in the shed. That would need to be searched, too. In fact, after he went through the kitchen he would go out the back arctic entry and check Betty’s old pickup.

When he reached the pantry, he used a gloved hand to open the door. His gaze riveted to the spots of blood on the wooden floor about six inches inside. He lifted his eyes and scanned the disarray, homing in on bloody fingerprints on a shelf as if someone tried to hold on to it. Maybe trying to get up? Whatever went on in here, a fight occurred in this walk-in pantry. Did the intruder find Betty hiding?

The question still persisted. Then where is Betty?

He took more photos, then proceeded to the arctic entry. A pair of boots and a woman’s heavy coat hanging on a peg were the only things in the small room. He took the coat and let Mitch sniff it, then kept hold of it in case he needed it again. His dog smelled the floor and paused by the exit outside. This was probably the way Betty came into her house since this was closer than the front entrance to the shed. Jake returned to the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight on the wall by the door.

On the stoop, Jake took in the area. The snow falling had filled in any footsteps, but that wouldn’t stop Mitch. His German shepherd sniffed the air and started down the three steps, then headed toward Betty’s pickup.

As he approached the driver side of the vehicle, he spied a bloody print on the metal handle. Not a good sign. Mitch barked at the door.

Jake said, “Stay,” then skirted the rear of the old truck and opened the passenger door. The seat was empty.

Then he investigated under the tarp over the bed of the Ford F-150, using the interior light from the cab. Nothing.

“Where is she?” Rachel asked as she approached, carrying a flashlight. “I called at least twenty women she knew from church and the fishery, and no one knows where she is. One lady said she got ill after lunch and left. That would mean she should have gotten home by one. What happened in those three hours?”

Something not good.

“Is the chief through in the house?”

“He didn’t find anything in the second bedroom but was going to go through Betty’s. Did you find anything?”

He hated to tell her. Rachel had always been close to both of her aunts. “Blood in the pantry and on the driver’s door handle.”

“Do you think someone attacked her in the house and—” Rachel swallowed hard “—somehow she got away? Did she try to leave and that person caught up with her?” Her large brown eyes shone with unshed tears.

“I didn’t see any blood inside on the seat. I don’t think she ever opened the door.”

Rachel blinked once, and a tear ran down her face. She swung around in a full circle, the flashlight sending an arc of illumination across the yard. “Then where is she? Why would anyone want to hurt Aunt Betty?”

Jake moved to his dog and let him inhale her scent on the coat again. “Find.” While Mitch smelled around, Jake said to Rachel, “Let’s see if he can pick up a trail going away from the house or shed.”

Blond hair peeking out from under her beanie, Rachel swept her arm to indicate the yard outside the shed. “She could have decided to hide out here because she didn’t have her truck keys on her.”

“Maybe.”

“But then why didn’t she come forward when we arrived?” Rachel took one look at his sober expression and added, “Never mind. She would if she could...” Her gaze locked with his. “Could have.”

Mitch picked up a scent, barked, then headed out of the shed across the field toward a stand of spruce and other evergreens. Giving his dog a long leash, Jake followed with Rachel beside him. Mitch plowed his way through four or five inches of snow.

At a place his German shepherd had disturbed, Jake yelled, “Halt,” then stooped to examine a couple of drops of blood in the white snow with his flashlight.

Rachel’s gasp sounded above the noise of the wind. He glanced over his shoulder at her face, white like the snow. He wished he could erase the fear in her eyes.

“You should return to the house and let the chief know.”

Rachel shook her head. “I started this. I want to find her. I’ve been praying she’s still alive and only hurt. Time is of the essence. She could freeze to death.”

He rose, commanded Mitch to continue his search, then took her gloved hand in his. “We’ll do this together.” He felt better having her by his side rather than trekking back to the house alone about five hundred yards away.

As they trailed behind Mitch, Jake prepared himself. Betty could have been out here without a coat for hours. He stopped again a couple of times when more blood became visible in the glow of his light. Mitch was following Betty’s path closely. If anyone could find her, his dog could.

Among the trees, the snow on the ground wasn’t as thick because the top branches were heavy with it. They saw evidence of more blood, and Rachel’s expression lost all hope her aunt was still alive. Tears returned to glisten in her eyes.

Mitch’s bark echoed through the woods. He stopped about twenty feet away. Jake spotted a shadowy lump in the snow and blocked Rachel’s path. “Go back and get Chief Quay.”

Rachel tried to look around Jake.

“Please, Rachel. I think Mitch found Betty.”

“Then I need to see if I can help her.”

“If she’s alive, I can. I trained as a paramedic when I first went to Anchorage.” He’d been debating whether to continue his career of being a police officer in the big city or wanting to try something else before making that decision.

She looked into his face, snowflakes catching on her long eyelashes. She blinked, trying to conquer the tears welling in her eyes.

“Please, Rachel.”

She whirled about and hurried back, following the path already cut. When she’d cleared the trees, Jake quickened his pace toward Mitch. Betty, stiff as if totally frozen with a bloodied head wound, leaned against a tree trunk facing away from the house. Had she been trying to hide? Her lower body was covered with a white blanket of snow while she hugged her sweater-clad arms to her chest. She stared off into space.

Betty was dead, but Jake knelt next to her and felt for a pulse to make sure. He said a silent prayer, something he hadn’t done in a long while. She was with the Lord.

He would find whoever did this.

THREE

“Aunt Linda, I can call Lawrence and Jake and reschedule this dinner for another night.” Rachel stood in the entrance to the kitchen where her aunt was cooking a beef stew and putting some rolls in the oven to bake.

“All I have to do is the bread. The stew has been simmering half the day.” She turned from the stove, her eyes red from crying for the past hour. Aunt Linda held the baking sheet in her hands like a shield, her fingertips red from her tight grip on it. “I know Randall asked you to come home, but Jake stayed and I want to know what they found out about Betty’s death. Murder! I still can’t believe it.” She slammed the cookie sheet on the countertop and placed the rolls on it. “My sister was one of the sweetest people in Port Aurora. She never hurt a soul. I’ve got to make some sense out of this.”

“I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to do that.”

“They should have been here five minutes ago. Call them to make sure they’re coming,” her aunt, a petite woman with short blond hair, said in a determined voice.

Aunt Linda was always where she was supposed to be on time, if not early. “I will,” Rachel said before her aunt decided to do it instead. Since she’d returned home an hour ago, Aunt Linda had fluctuated between tears and anger, much like what Rachel had been experiencing since she glimpsed Aunt Betty leaning against the tree. Stiff. Snow covering her.

As Rachel made her way into the living room, she heard the doorbell. She continued into the arctic entry and let Jake and his grandfather into the house. They removed their snowshoes and stomped their feet to shake off what snow they could.

“You two walked?”

“The wind has died down some.” Jake removed his beanie.

“But the snow is still coming down a lot.” Rachel had been looking forward to seeing him and spending time with her best friend from childhood. A few months ago, he’d almost died, and now her aunt had been murdered.

“With what happened this afternoon, I needed to walk some of my stress off.” Jake hung his coat and his grandfather’s on two pegs in the arctic entry and headed into the living room.

Lawrence looked around. “Where’s Linda?”

“In the kitchen. Dinner will be soon.”

“I’ll go see how she’s coping. I still can’t believe someone would kill Betty.” Lawrence strode from the room.

The second he was gone, Rachel pivoted toward Jake. “Tell me what happened after I left.”

“How’s Linda doing?”

“Mad one minute, emotional the next. She wants to find the person responsible and...” Rachel’s mouth twisted. “I’m not sure what she would do, but she wants the murderer caught. She’s trying to make some sense of what happened to her sister.”

“Have her come in here, and I’ll tell both of you before dinner. Although I can’t say any of it makes sense.”

Rachel headed toward the kitchen, but Lawrence and Aunt Linda were already at the doorway.

“I turned the oven on to warm so the rolls ought to be fine while Jake tells us what happened.” Aunt Linda took a seat on the couch with Lawrence next to her, his arm around her shoulder. Her aunt leaned against Jake’s grandfather as though she couldn’t hold herself upright without him.

Jake stood by the roaring fireplace, while Rachel sat down and told her part of the story. “When I went back to Betty’s house, Officer Bates had returned and was trying to pull fingerprints while the chief finished with photos, especially of the kitchen and pantry. When I told him what we found, he left his officer processing evidence and told me to go home, then he started toward the woods.” The sight of Aunt Betty on the ground haunted her. Rachel shut the memory down and shifted her attention to Jake. “Your turn.”

With his hands behind his back, he drew in a deep breath. “The chief took photos of Betty, then we carried her to the house. When I left, he was waiting for Doc to come take her. It appeared she died either from the head wound from someone hitting her with some kind of round object—possibly a can from the pantry—or she succumbed to the cold. Either way, the police chief is looking at the case as a murder.”

Aunt Linda dropped her head, tears falling on her lap. “I can’t believe this.”

Lawrence cupped Aunt Linda’s hand in her lap. “We haven’t had a murder here in years. A couple of deadly bar fights. That’s all.”

“Do you know if they found what they were looking for?” Aunt Linda lifted her gaze, her eyes red.

“No. The police don’t know what she had of value at her house.” Jake stepped away from the fire and took the last seat in the living room. “Was the TV the only thing of value that a robber would steal?”

Her aunt shook her head. “She had a few pieces of jewelry, but nothing to kill over, a state-of-the-art food processor and an old Kodak camera. Do you think Chief Quay would like for me to go through the house and see if I can find anything?”

“I’ll call him tomorrow. It might help to know if that was the motive for the break-in. Knowing the motive might help find the killer.”

Rachel remembered her brief encounters with Aunt Betty earlier that day. “I don’t think it’s a robbery. I think Aunt Betty discovered something that concerned her. She asked about talking to you, Jake, because you were a police officer in Anchorage. Aunt Linda, do you know of any place she uses for hiding valuable items? I can’t think of any.”

Her head lowered, Aunt Linda stared at her folded hands, the thumbs twirling around each other. “She had a cubbyhole in her kitchen. If you didn’t know about it, you wouldn’t see it. It’s where the two cabinets form an L-shape near the sink. But it only can hide small objects. She kept her spare key to the truck in there. A diamond ring our mother passed on to her. I’m not sure what else.”

“Then that should be checked.” Rachel glanced at Jake, who nodded. “We can do that tomorrow.”

Her teeth digging into her lower lip, Aunt Linda rose. “Since we’re her only living relatives, it’s our responsibility to see to her—” she swallowed several times “—belongings. Now, I’m going to set the table, and dinner will be in about ten minutes.”

Lawrence also stood. “I’ll help.”

After they left the room, Jake leaned across the end table that separated their chairs and said in a low voice, “Is something going on between your aunt and my grandfather?”

“Good friends. That’s all. Over the years, they’ve helped each other, and their friendship has grown. It kind of reminds me of us when we were kids. Not that I’m saying theirs is childish. Aunt Linda told me a few years ago that she’d had a wonderful marriage she would always cherish in her memory, but she didn’t want to get married again.”

“How about you? I thought by now you’d be married. You have so much to offer a man.”

But not you. When they had been friends, before Celeste, Rachel had wondered if Jake and she would fall in love, and whether the marriage would work—unlike her mother’s six marriages—because she knew Jake so well. Her mother would date a man for a couple of months, marry him, then discard him in a few years. “I don’t have a lot of faith in marriage—at least what I’ve seen of it.”

“You might be right. A successful marriage is becoming rarer.”

“Is my cynicism rubbing off on you?”

He grinned. “I’ve been around you for a day, and look what happened.” His gaze shifted to the Christmas tree in front of the living room window. “Your lights were what we focused on. Even with it snowing, we could see them from our front porch. Of course, it’s not snowing as hard as earlier.”

“We always decorate the day after Thanksgiving. Aunt Betty comes over...” Thinking about how her aunt died churned her stomach. She needed to forget the last few hours for a while or she wouldn’t be able to help Aunt Linda. “Is Lawrence going to put a tree up this year? He usually doesn’t because he visits you in Anchorage.”

“He hasn’t said. Maybe I should go cut one down like we used to, and then he’d have no choice. He always insists we do when he comes to visit, so turnaround is fair play. He’s really a kid at heart.”

Rachel took in the hard edge to Jake’s expression and the reserve he didn’t have as a teen. She missed who he’d been. “But you aren’t. From what he’s told me, you’re very serious and focused.”

“Being a police officer in a large town colors your perception. Sadly, I have covered murders. I’d forgotten the charm of Port Aurora and the lack of what I call real crime.”

“You should come home more often.” This exchange brought memories of how they were as teenagers. They used to tell each other everything—until Celeste. She changed Jake. He became closed, and in the end he left because she married Brad Howard. That hurt her more than she cared to acknowledge.

“We’ll see.”

“Have you seen Celeste yet?”

His shoulders tensed. “I’ve only been here less than a day.”

“But you were in town for hours, and it’s a small place. She and Brad don’t live far from the main street.”

“I’ve seen that big house overlooking the harbor.”

“You mean the audacious home looming over the town,” she said with a forced chuckle.

Jake pushed to his feet. “I can smell the dinner, and I’m starving. Let’s eat.” He held out his hand to her.

Celeste was still a sore subject with him. That broke her heart. Rachel wanted him to be happy and move on from Celeste. Rachel placed her hand in his, and he tugged her up. For a few seconds they were only inches apart, his spicy scent—or maybe the Christmas tree nearby—teased her senses and blended with the aromas of the bread and beef stew.

At least he loved someone once. You don’t even want to take that chance.

* * *

The next morning, after Gramps plowed the long drive from the road to the cluster of houses, Jake headed for town to talk with the police chief, a man he’d worked with for over a year, before he moved away. Randall had taught him a lot, but his real police training came when he went to Anchorage.

Jake parked in front of the police station, a small building, nothing like where he worked. When he entered, he saw the chief coming out of his office and putting a paper down in front of the dispatcher/secretary. From what he understood, only seven officers worked for the department besides Randall, three more than when he had been an officer on this force. That wasn’t too bad in the winter months when the year-round population was a little over four thousand, but in the warmer months there was an influx of tourists, mostly hunters and fishermen.

Randall came toward Jake and shook his hand. “I’m sure glad you could help out yesterday. I have one officer on vacation, and with the storm yesterday, there are always more wrecks.”

“While I’m here, I’d be glad to help out, if needed. I wanted to know what the cause of Betty’s death was.”

“The verdict was she passed out and froze to death. It was estimated by body temperature she was outside close to three hours.”

“Are you calling it a murder?”

The chief nodded. “She wouldn’t have been outside with a head wound if someone hadn’t intruded in her house and hit her.”

“Did you find the weapon?”

“Yes, a can of soup. I think the attacker left her in the pantry where she had probably been hiding and continued his search. She must have awakened and fled outside.”

“How many people do you think it is?”

“We have two different sets of footprints in the house that weren’t Betty’s.” Randall half leaned, half sat on his dispatcher’s desk as Officers Bates and Clark walked from the back of the station, talking.

“Any latent prints that you could match?”

Randall signaled for Bates to join them. “Yes, one, but the print isn’t in our system. Did Linda know what might have been taken from Betty’s? If someone wanted to steal, I could think of many better off than her.”

“No, but Linda and Rachel are going to start cleaning up since I checked with one of your officers this morning. He said you’re through with the crime scene.”

Randall glanced toward Bates. “We were there until late, processing the scene. Finished about ten o’clock. If Linda or Rachel find anything missing, please let me know.”

Jake shifted slightly toward the young officer. “I’ll leave you to talk business. I’m going by the general store for some cleaning supplies they might need at Betty’s house, then to Port Aurora’s Community Church. Linda couldn’t get hold of the pastor this morning, so she wanted me to tell him Betty only wanted a small memorial service at church.”

“That sounds like Betty, but it won’t be small. I don’t see how the church will be big enough for the service. She worked at the processing center at the fishery and was a moving force at church. I figure at least half the town will want to come.” Randall reached behind him for a piece of paper and handed it to Bates. “Red Cunningham had his cell phone stolen. Check it out.”

“Yes, sir. On it.”

“Was Betty’s cell on her?” Jake asked.

“From what I understand, she only had a landline at her house.” Randall straightened. “I can’t imagine not having a cell.”

“Me, either. It’s hard enough that it doesn’t always work here.” They nodded goodbye, and Jake left the police station and drove the half a mile to the general store, which was close to the harbor on the main street.

He decided to grab a cup of coffee, because no one made it as good as Marge, then get the cleaning supplies. As he entered the store, his gaze almost immediately went to Brad and Celeste sitting at a table talking. Neither saw him, and he hoped it stayed that way.

He stood in line a couple of people behind Sean O’Hara. They had been in the same class in high school. If he had been spending time with Rachel growing up, usually Sean was with him. Sean placed his order, then turned away from the counter.

“I just heard about Betty this morning,” Sean said when he glimpsed Jake. “She was such a good employee. I should have realized something was wrong when she went home early yesterday.”

Jake moved up in the line. “Linda and Rachel are planning a memorial service for her next week. Police Chief Quay said the church wouldn’t even be able to accommodate most of the people who would attend. If that’s the case, is there anything at the fishery that could be used?”

Sean rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t know. I’d have to talk with Brad about it. I’m sure he would want to do something. Betty worked at the fishery for most of her life.”

Jake leaned toward Sean. “Yeah, I can hardly believe she’s dead. Murdered.”

Sean’s eyes widened. “Betty? Why?”

“You haven’t heard—a robbery gone bad.”

“I tried to stay away from the rumor mill. Betty doesn’t have that much.”

“That’s what Linda said. She and Rachel are at her house, trying to figure out what was stolen. I have a few errands, and then I’m going to help them later.” Jake stepped up to the counter to buy his coffee.

“I’ll let you know what Brad says about a bigger place for the memorial service.” Sean made his way toward the exit.

After Jake ordered his drink, he grabbed a basket and found the aisle for cleaning supplies, staying away from the café section where Brad and Celeste sat.

Jake finished his coffee and paid for the items he bought. When he stepped outside, the chill made him think about what had happened to Betty. Anger swelled in his gut. Why did bad things happen to good people? He’d asked the Lord that many times. Maybe life as a police officer in Anchorage wasn’t really for him? And yet, he’d only been home one day and a murder occurred in this usually peaceful town.

He walked around the corner of the large store. When he reached his grandfather’s SUV, the rear driver’s side tire was flat. He stuck the sack of supplies in the back and got out what he needed to replace it with a spare. As he knelt to fix the jack under the car, he glanced at the front tire—flat like the back one. Jake examined it and found a large slit in it.

This wasn’t an accident. Someone did this on purpose.

* * *

Carrying a sack of supplies, Rachel stepped into Betty’s house, drew in a fortifying breath and said, “Remember this place was trashed.”

“I’ve seen trashed before. Your dad was the messiest guy.” Hands full with a mop, broom and garbage bags, Aunt Linda entered a few paces behind Rachel. She glanced at the living room and blew out a rush of air. “Okay. This tops anything your dad did.”

“Probably more than one person did this. Going through everything takes time. Jake was stopping by the police station to talk to Chief Quay.”

Aunt Linda shook her head as her gaze skimmed over the piles of items on the floor. “I hope Betty didn’t see this. Everything in her house had a place, and she kept it that way. Very organized. It will take days to go through, but I’m determined to see if anything is missing. I have a good idea what she has of value that a burglar might want.”

“I can’t see this as a robbery gone bad. Everyone knows her in town. They know she has limited funds and just makes it every month.”

“Where do we start?” Aunt Linda leaned the mop and broom against the wall.

“In here. If we can get this room and her bedroom done today, I’ll consider it good, then after church tomorrow, we can come work on the kitchen. It’s the worst.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“But first, we should check to see if her valuables are still in the hidey-hole in the kitchen.”

“Yes, I’m sure the police chief would like to know if anything was taken as soon as possible. It might help him find who did this.” Aunt Linda crossed the living room to the kitchen entrance and halted. “This looks like a tornado went through here. Why were they emptying food boxes? What in the world were they looking for?”

“Some people have hidden cash in cereal, flour, whatever.”

Aunt Linda harrumphed. “That gives me the willies. What about the germs?”

“Usually they have them in something plastic.” Over her aunt’s shoulder, Rachel gestured to the open freezer, a puddle of water on the floor nearby. “People have been known to hide money and stuff like that in the freezer.”

“Obviously, it didn’t work. They checked it. But really, the intruders couldn’t have known Betty very well, or they wouldn’t have wasted their time.”

Rachel thought back to the panicked look on Aunt Betty’s face the day before. She could still hear the scared desperation in Aunt Betty’s voice in the break room. Why didn’t she talk to the local police?

Aunt Linda stepped over the worst of the mess on the floor and covered the distance to the counter area she’d described last night. With her foot, she brushed some empty boxes and cans away, then knelt. She reached into the cubbyhole at the junction of the cabinets. “Got something.”

Rachel stooped down behind her aunt. “Do we have anything like this at our house?”

“Nope.” Aunt Linda slid out a plastic bag with a few pieces of jewelry and another with several keys and gave them to Rachel, then she stuck her hand back inside. “There’s something else. Feels like one of her photos—actually several.”

When her aunt drew them out and examined them, Rachel looked over Aunt Linda’s shoulder. “That’s the shipping room at the fishery. Why would she take a picture of that? She didn’t work in that department.”

“I don’t know. Maybe there are more in her darkroom.” Linda glanced back at Rachel. “The camera she used was old—one she had for years. She still used film. That was probably her one luxury. Buying film and what she needed to process her own photos.”

“Three pictures are all that’s in the cubbyhole?”

“Let me check to make sure. It goes back to the wall.” Her aunt rechecked and came up empty-handed. “Before we start cleaning, let’s see what’s left of her darkroom. Most of her photos are of nature. She is... I mean, she was good. Photography made her happy.”

Rachel clasped her shoulder, hearing the pain in her aunt’s voice. She leaned over and hugged her. “She’s with God now.”

Aunt Linda cleared her throat. “I know. But...” She gave her head one hard shake, then pulled herself to her feet. “This isn’t getting her house cleaned. Betty would have hated her house this way.”

As they made their way to the second bedroom closet, Rachel slipped the items from the hidey-hole into her pocket.

“I remember it took Betty a year to save up for her camera. She was so excited when she finally got it. I bought her enough film that I think it lasted six months, even though she went out every weekend and took pictures of things that interested her.”

Rachel dragged the door open, so that Aunt Linda and she could peer into the darkroom side by side in the entrance.

“I don’t see her camera,” her aunt mumbled, then crouched down and began moving the clutter to see what was under it. “She keeps it in here on the hook by the door. It’s not there, and whatever she was processing was destroyed. Could that be the reason someone came to her house?”

The scent of the chemicals still lingered in the air, but something else invaded and began to overpower that odor. Rachel swiveled around and went to the entrance into the bedroom. As she took in a deep breath away from the closet, a whiff of smoke grew stronger.

Rachel hurried into the living room, her gaze riveting to flames licking up the drapes on the front and side of the house.

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