Alaskan Christmas Cold Case. Sarah Varland

      “So, what did you learn while you were gone?”

      Erynn tried not to sound too interested, but every cell in her body was on high alert, ready to charge forward into battle against the killer. If only she had a face, a name, something to make him more substance than just a terror who haunted her dreams, killed her friends, her family.

      She wanted a fair fight. She couldn’t have that if she didn’t know who he was.

      “I got you coffee. That’s why I was gone.” He handed it to her and she took a sip. Strong, with just a tiny bit of half-and-half. She didn’t deserve to have a friend who knew her so well—especially when she usually drank it black. It was healthier that way, for one. For another, proving herself as a woman in a male-dominated profession dictated that she take every opportunity to show herself capable. Strong. She felt like black coffee made a statement, and had drunk it that way since she’d graduated from the trooper academy. But half-and-half was a guilty pleasure, one that felt like a treat.

      And Noah always remembered. She was starting to realize he remembered everything about her, and that knowledge made her feel seen. It was either exhilarating or terrifying: Erynn didn’t know which. She had spent too much time hoping she’d blend in, just be normal. Average. She hadn’t even dated much because she hadn’t wanted to take the risk that being close to her would put someone else in danger. She’d never felt fully free from the threat that the Foster Kid Killer would return.

      She wished her instincts had been wrong this time.

      “We both know you didn’t just get coffee.” She took another sip. “Though thank you, this is really good.”

      “I did talk to some of the other officers who were here, but I didn’t learn much. Everything they know is what we know.”

      “He didn’t leave any evidence here, either.” She heard the flatness in her voice, couldn’t quite fix it. She’d wondered for years if the killer was law enforcement himself, but her dad hadn’t believed he was, hadn’t believed anyone he worked with in Anchorage would have done the things he’d done. Still, the murderer knew more than an average person about how the crime scene process worked. He was smart. Otherwise they’d have caught him by now.

      The chances he was going to be stupid now, after a decade to learn more, plan more? They weren’t good. Erynn wished it wasn’t true, but she wasn’t going to delude herself into thinking positively for no reason.

      “He didn’t, but we’re going to find him.”

      She had been the sunshine on Noah’s shoulder before when he was having a hard time with a case, knew full well she’d helped keep him sane when his sisters had been through dangerous situations in the last year and a half. But having him try to cheer her up? She couldn’t handle it right now. She was only up for full reality, which wasn’t so sunny.

      “I don’t see how we can.”

      Noah turned to her, didn’t say anything. She dared him to, dared him to lie to her to try to make the whole thing sound more likely than it was.

      He didn’t. Instead he just nodded. Turned back to the computer.

      He might have confidence, but she had none. And he didn’t even mind.

      Everything in her wished she could hang on to him and not let him go, make him promise they’d be friends forever, but she didn’t have much longer in Moose Haven. She’d already had a longer tenure here than she should have because of department changeover and how assignments shook out. But in a year or less she would be leaving Moose Haven for another posting.

      She’d walk out of his life; he’d find someone else to make coffee for, to encourage, and she’d be alone, like she’d always been. It wasn’t fair. However, Erynn had learned at an early age that life wasn’t. Had had it reinforced for her often since.

      “Here’s an angle we can work. As you said, we suspect now that Michelle Holt was the woman who was really killed on the glacier. Will working from there lead us to him?”

      “I doubt it.”

      “It was rhetorical. Maybe don’t answer if you don’t have something positive to say, okay?”

      Erynn didn’t say anything. She just sipped her coffee, let Noah keep talking to her, or himself, or whomever he was talking to.

      “We’re going to solve this, Erynn. I promise.”

      Erynn swallowed hard. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard the words. The last time, she had known the person cared about her, known he’d meant them.

      And then he’d ended up dead.

      She couldn’t let that happen to Noah. Or to her.