Northern Lights

But I am asking you to come back with me tonight. If you won't, I'll stay here. But your mother could use some help at The Lodge with Rose out. She's overworked and churned up about your father."
    "Charlene and I—"
    "I can't connect with mine, you know. My mother. She barely speaks to me, and my sister stays away from both of us because she just wants to have a nice, normal life. Can't blame her."
    "I didn't know you had a sister."
    "She's two years older. Lives in Kentucky now. I haven't seen her in . . . five years, I guess. The Burkes aren't big on family gatherings."
    "She didn't come to see you when you were shot?"
    "She called. We didn't have a lot to say to each other. When Jack was killed and I was shot up, my mother came to see me in the hospital. I thought, as much as I was thinking, that maybe, just maybe, something would come out of all that horror. I thought we'd work our way back to each other. But she asked me if I'd stop now. If I'd resign from the force before she had to visit my grave instead of my hospital bed. I told her no, that it was all I had left. She walked out without another word. I don't think we've exchanged more than a dozen words since.
    "The job cost me my best friend, my wife, my family."
    "No, it didn't." She couldn't stop herself from taking his hand, lifting it to her cheek. Rubbing it there. "You know it didn't."
    "Depends how you turn it, that's all. But I didn't give it up. I'm here because even at the bottom, it was the one thing I kept. Maybe it's what stopped me from sinking all the way down, I don't know. But I do know you've got a chance to make some sort of peace with your mother. You ought to take it."
    "She could've asked me to give her a hand."
    "She did. I'm just the filter."
    On a sigh, she turned around and gave the under-the-sink cabinet a testy little kick. "I'll chip in some time, but don't look for happy-everafter on this, Nate."
    "Ever after's too long to worry about anyway."
     
     
    HE DROPPED HER OFF at The Lodge, then went back to the station.
    He spent some time writing up notes from his conversations with Otto and John, then began a search-and-run on the names of the pilots Otto had given him.
    He found no criminal on Stokey Loukes, nothing more than a few traffic violations. He lived in Fairbanks now and was employed as a pilot for a tour organization called Alaska Wild.Their web page promised to show clients the real Alaska, and help them bag game, reel in enormous fish and capture scenes of The Great Alone all for various package prices. Group rates available.
    Fielding moved to Australia in '93 and died of natural causes four years later.
    Thomas Kijinski, aka Two-Toes was a different story. Nate found several pops for possession of controlled substances, intent to distribute, D&D, petty larceny. He'd been kicked out of Canada, and his pilot's license had been suspended twice.
    On March 8, 1988, his body had been found stuffed in a trash bin on a dock in Anchorage, multiple stab wounds. His wallet and watch had been missing. Conclusion: mugging. The perpetrator or perpetrators had never been identified.
    Shine a light on it another way, Nate thought as he printed out the data, and you have a cleanup rather than a mugging. Pilot takes three, brings back two. Couple weeks later, the pilot's stabbed and stuffed in the garbage.
    Made a man stop and think.
    With the station quiet around him, Nate uncovered his case board. He brewed more coffee and dug up a can of processed ham from the storeroom to make himself what passed for a sandwich.
    Then he sat at his desk, studying the board, reading his notes, reading Patrick Galloway's last journal.
    And spent the long evening hours thinking.

 
     
     
    NINETEEN
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    HE DIDN'T TELL HER about the journal. When a woman ended the day tired and irritable, it seemed unwise to give her one more thing to add to the mix.
    He had to give Meg points for shoving up her sleeves and pitching in at The Lodge, and bonus points for rolling out of bed the next morning and handling the breakfast crowd. Especially since the tension between her and Charlene was thick enough to slice up and fry alongside the bacon.
    Still, when he took a table, she walked over, coffeepot at the ready. "Hi. I'm Meg, and I'll be your server this morning. Since I'm looking for a really big tip, I'm going to wait until after you eat to bash this pot over Charlene's head."
    "I appreciate that. How long before Rose comes back