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
