Alaska Twilight Part 13

Augusta patted her hand. "h.e.l.lo, Joy. I'm your grandmother. Call me Augusta like Haley does."

The two inspected one another. Joy wasn't usually so tongue-tied, and Tank knew two encounters in one day had thrown her. "There are some questions Haley forgot to ask you. Do you have a few minutes?"

Fear flashed over Joy's face. "I don't think Craig will let me go with you. He was mad when he got home and found out Alice allowed me to leave with you."

Her hand touched the mark on her arm. It was a bruise, Tank saw, his anger ramping up immediately. "Let me handle it," he told her. He stepped past her to the door and pounded on it with all his might. The door shook, and the windowpanes rattled from the force of his fist.

The gruff voice down the hall swore viciously. Feet pounded on the wooden floor inside, and a big man punched open the screen door and stepped outside. His head thrust forward aggressively, and his hazel eyes narrowed-he looked ready to take on all comers. "What do you want?" Tank's size didn't seem to deter his belligerent stance.

"These ladies are Joy's family. We're taking her out for dinner."

"No, you aren't. She has ch.o.r.es to do. She spent all afternoon gallivanting around town."

"You put that bruise on her arm?" Tank jabbed his thumb in Joy's direction. The women gasped, and he saw them dart quick looks at Joy's arm.

"She fell," Craig said quickly. His eyes darted from Tank's face to Joy, then back again.

"I don't believe it. You touch her again, and you'll answer to me. You got that?" Tank was nearly yelling.

He wheeled and took Joy's arm gently. "I'll have her back by nine." Haley and Augusta scurried ahead of him.

Joy came without resistance. "He'll make me pay for that," she said. "I know you were trying to help, but next time . . ." She bit her lip.

"There won't be a next time. You're not going back there," Haley said. Her color was high, and she swung along the rough streets on her crutches with a scowl that said she'd like to stomp Craig under her boots.

"Hold up." Tank stopped. "If that's your intention, we need to do this legally." He turned to Joy. "Did Craig put that bruise on your arm?"

She nodded. "Next time he'll make sure he puts them where people can't see."

"Will you tell Trooper Gillespie that?"

Joy hesitated and looked at the other women. "What am I going to do? Where will I live?"

"With me," Augusta said staunchly.

Joy's eyes lit up. "You're moving here?"

"I live in Phoenix. You'll love it there."

Joy's smile faded. "I love it here. It's my home."

"We'll figure something out," Tank said. "For now, let's get this doc.u.mented." He took her to see Chet, who listened to the stories of abuse. Haley snapped pictures of Joy's bruises, including some on her legs that her jeans had hidden. Her back had scars from beatings with a belt.

"What about the other children?" Haley asked.

"He never touches them. Only me. I think he resents the money he has to spend on me. They expected a boatload of money from my dad, and it's all been tied up in the estate. Once it comes through, I thought it would get better."

"I'll send a trooper to get your things," Chet said, his mouth in a grim line. "And I'm also going to ask the judge to do a home study to make sure the other children are not in danger."

"I kind of hate to leave them when they need me to watch the kids," Joy said. "The little ones are sweet."

Tank told Chet where to find them, and the group walked back toward the cafe. Joy was subdued, and he knew she wondered what would happen to her. She would be a polar bear in the desert if they tried to transplant her. Maybe she could live with him and Libby. Libby would like the company, and Brooke adored Joy.

Haley paused by the park. "Let's talk before we meet up with Libby and Brooke. I don't think Brooke should hear the questions I have." The women sat on the bench together while Tank leaned his back against a fence post.

"We talked with Fannie," Haley said. "She said you don't think the fire was an accident."

Joy's eyes widened; then she ducked her head and shook it. "I think they were killed, but no one believes me."

"Who did you tell?" Tank asked.

"Fannie believes you," Augusta said.

"No one who can do anything about it," Joy amended.

"I told Chet, but he said there was no evidence of anything weird." She splayed her fingers on her jeans.

"What makes you think it wasn't an accident?" Tank was beginning to wonder if Joy was just stubbornly refusing to face facts.

"See, you don't believe me either."

"Give me some facts, and maybe I will."

"I don't have any facts!" Joy rubbed her forehead. "I walked in on Ned Bundle one day at the dig. He shoved a crate out of the way when he saw me. Later, I went back and looked at it. It was full of artifacts. I told Maggie, and she started wondering if he was stealing them and selling them. She'd noticed several things missing. She told him she was going to tell Dad about it." She hesitated. "I think she didn't want to tell Dad about Ned. Dad liked Ned. He was always saying he'd never had a friend like him before. I think Mom didn't want to wreck that if she didn't have to."

Tank tried to think it through. "When was this?"

Joy bit her lip. "Two days before the fire." Her chin jutted out. "I think he didn't want to be found out, so he killed them."

"I could talk to him," Tank said. "If I can get some kind of proof, maybe Chet could have the bodies exhumed and autopsied. Or he might not have killed them. He may have just set fire to the cabin and the smoke got them."

"Fannie said there wasn't much to autopsy." Augusta's voice was low.

"There wasn't, but if they're looking at murder, they might find something."

Joy examined her short, stubby nails, decorated with chipped pink nail polish. "There's something else. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn't think you'd believe me."

Her voice quavered, and Tank focused on her tense and fearful face. "What is it?"

"Ned saw me looking at the crate." Joy's gaze came up to meet Tank's. "He said for me to keep my nose out of his business or I might end up in the lake."

Tank's arms came up in a defensive posture across his chest. "Like Leigh," he said. "Could he have had something to do with Leigh's death?"

Joy wet her lips. "I caught him watching her through binoculars once. He said she was hot."

Tank exhaled sharply. "I'll talk to him." He didn't know what to make of Joy's story. Could she have an overactive imagination? She seemed so mature and levelheaded for her age. He thought of the pills. Could someone have forced Leigh to take them? His mind didn't want to go there.

Fourteen.

Supper was a grim affair. Brooke chattered all through her meal of caribou burger and macaroni and cheese. More macaroni ended up on the chipped tiled floor than in her mouth. Libby kept shooting curious glances into their faces but didn't ask questions until they rose to go back to the hotel.

She caught Haley's arm as Tank went to pay at an ancient relic of a cash register that looked like it came into Alaska during the gold rush. Augusta and Joy took Brooke to a bubble-gum machine. "What's going on? It's like someone has died."

Libby didn't know how close she'd come. Haley told her what Joy had said and decided to focus on the story as it pertained to Tank first. "Did you ever notice Ned hanging around the lake, or the Walsh place?"

Libby shrugged helplessly. "I didn't stay out there much while Leigh was alive. She and I didn't get along very well."

"Why not?"

"I think she was jealous. She wanted all of Tank's attention when he was home. He and I have always been close. It was a hard time for me, making myself back away to give him a chance to bond with his new wife. That's one of the reasons I took the cello seat in Philly, much as it killed me to leave here. When Brooke came along, I forced myself to listen to Leigh's snipes and to deal with her irritation every few months. I wasn't going to allow my niece to grow up without knowing me."

"So you never saw her with Ned? Or saw Ned do anything inappropriate?"

Libby shook her head. "I don't know the man well. I went over to watch the dig a few times, but it was kind of boring. Just digging in the dirt and sifting it for artifacts. I'd go bonkers doing that all day when I'd rather be playing my cello."

"What about at the dig? Did you notice him watching my mother or anything like that?"

"Like I said, I only went a few times. He worked in one part, and your parents in another."

Haley glanced over at Joy, who was getting gum out of the machine for Brooke. "Do you think Joy would lie or stretch the truth?"

"No way! Joy has a pa.s.sion for the truth. Even when she got in trouble for being late, she never tried to wiggle out of it with a lie."

"I'll go see Ned at the dig tomorrow."

"Not you! Tank or Chet. If this guy is dangerous, you need to stay away. You're a beautiful girl, and you don't want to get him fixated on you."

Haley grinned. "I'd say you need to get your eyes checked." She pulled her camera to her face. "Let me take your picture, and I'll show you beautiful."

Libby laughed and stood still while Haley snapped some pictures. "You never did say where he lives," Haley said, putting the lens cap back on her camera.

"Oh no, you don't. I'm not that easy to trick. Tank knows where to look. You stay out of it."

If only it were that easy. Haley had thought she'd destroyed all love for her parents, but like a seed exposed to suns.h.i.+ne, it had come bursting out when she discovered some maniac might have deliberately killed them. The emotion she hadn't been able to name earlier was grief. She was grieving for her parents for the first time.

The next morning, Haley went to the front desk to check for mail. When the pimply-faced young man brought out the long box, she nearly kissed him but resisted the impulse. She thanked him and took the box back to her room. She unwrapped it and lifted out her old prosthesis. It might not be the most advanced version, but she'd never seen a prettier limb.

Joy was watching, her bright blue eyes alive with curiosity. "Is that thing uncomfortable?"

"No, it's great. I'll be able to get along much better. The one that was stolen distributed my weight better, but this baby got me through for a lot of years." Haley patted the artificial limb, then strapped it on and pulled her jeans down over it. She put her sneaker on the fake foot.

"You'd never know if you didn't know," Joy said.

Haley stood and walked around. "Model-perfect now." She seized Joy and waltzed her around the room. "I feel like it's Christmas or something. I'd forgotten how hard it is to get around with crutches." She released her giggling sister, then called Savannah and thanked her for sending the leg. When she got off the phone, she saw Joy studying her.

"It must have been hard losing your leg."

"It was." Haley remembered the terror of seeing that flat sheet where her leg should be. "That reminds me, another man in town lost a leg to a bear. I should go talk to him. Jed Hoose, I think Tank said his name was."

"I heard they took him to the hospital in Anchorage."

"Oh, okay. Maybe another day then. I want to go talk to this Ned Bundle."

Augusta came out of the bathroom in time to hear her last comment. "Tank told you to stay out of it. And just yesterday you told Fannie you didn't want to get involved."

"I didn't believe her, not really. But I believe Joy." Oscar came to her, and she scooped him up.

Her sister's face lit with relief. "Thanks, Haley."

"Don't go without Tank," her grandmother ordered.

Looking at the two of them, Haley was struck by how much they looked alike. That same blond hair and those blue eyes. A lump formed in her throat. She grabbed her camera. "Don't move." She snapped a couple of pictures. They belonged together. She wasn't sure she fit with them.

"Are you going to call Tank, or shall I?" Augusta pressed the issue.

"I'll call him. You're making a mountain out of a pile of bear scat." She grinned. "Don't tell Tank I said that."

"Maybe you should ask Chet to go too," Joy said. "Ned scares me."

"I'll have Tank. He could take on a brown bear with one arm tied behind him." Haley's spirits rose at the thought of spending the morning with Tank. She told herself it was just because she was doing something different, taking action.

She called Kipp's room and got no answer. She'd leave a message with the desk to tell him she'd be out today. He wouldn't like it, but right now, Haley didn't care.

Tank saw the woman through the window of his cabin before she saw him. Vonnie Bird had been Dr. Wooten's nurse for as long as he could remember. He opened the door, and she entered with purposeful steps. Nearly six feet tall, from the back she could be mistaken for a man.

She was dressed in her usual attire: bib overalls over a checked s.h.i.+rt. Her hair stuck up in front, giving her the appearance of a startled ostrich.

She nodded at Libby and Brooke. "Hey, Tank. As I told you on the phone, I've been appointed to do your home study in the pending custody case." She glanced around the cabin. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice. I need to see where Brooke lives and make sure the housing is adequate."

Libby gasped and put her hand to her mouth. "I'd better take Brooke out of here."

"No need for that. I'll need to a.s.sess Brooke to see how well-adjusted she is, though she looks healthy and happy to me."

Brooke ran to climb into his arms. "What's going on, Daddy?" she whispered.

"Vonnie has a few questions," he told her. "Your aunt Marley loves you a lot, and she wants to make sure you're taken care of right." He saw Vonnie's smile of approval, but he didn't care whether she was impressed. Brooke was all that mattered. He didn't want her scared.

Vonnie's sharp gaze took in the neat cabin. "Nice," she said. She settled on the sofa and clicked her pen as she got out her pad. "I'll be real honest with you, Tank. I resented being pulled into this matter. You're Brooke's father, and much as I dislike children growing up in the wilds, I hate seeing kids ripped from their parents without good cause even more. But I'm going to be fair about this. Tell me about your life at home."

Tank leaned back and launched into a description of his work and the time he spent with his daughter. Libby offered an account of the family routines. Vonnie asked Brooke questions about her day, and his daughter played her miniature cello for the nurse. When they were finished, he realized nearly an hour had pa.s.sed.