to admit, they were kind of anxious when Miss Fontaine and the hostess didn’t come over with the boys. After they all laughed at scaring the actors so badly, they started to argue about whether or not to head over to the Mansion, but someone said something about waiting for Clara to show up and that’s where everything was when I started to hear the commotion going on. You’d showed up with that Clara girl and that was the first I knew that anything whatsoever had gone wrong.”
“You and Mr. Crowley were together all the time?” Jackson asked.
“What? Joined at the hip? No. I was making biscuits. He was making beds,” Magda Crowley said, looking from Jackson to Thor. “Good cop, bad cop?” she asked.
“We’re not cops,” Jackson said.
“That’s right...you’re federal men. Well, you know, this is Alaska,” she said.
“I do. I’m from Alaska, Mrs. Crowley,” Thor told her.
“You ought to be out there finding out what happened to that poor woman, not in here, hammering at hardworking folks!” Magda told him. She wagged a finger at Thor. “I could see something like this coming. I could. All this reality! People sitting in front of the boob tube watching other people behave badly. It’s horrible—just horrible. I’m darned sorry that people were killed, but am I surprised? Hell, no! It was a matter of time.”
“You didn’t see or hear anything unusual?” Thor asked.
“What the hell would you call unusual? If I’d walked by that poor girl I’d have just kept on going—you saw what they did to the Mansion, right?”
“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Crowley. If you think of anything...if you see anything suspicious or can help us in any way—”
“It will help a hell of a lot if everyone just gets off the island!” she said. She stood up and started out. “I guess you want my husband now?”
“We do,” Thor said.
She sniffed and left. Mike poked his head back in. “She’s something, huh?” he whispered. “I’ll get the husband. They should both be watched—hell, who knows this island better than those two?” Mike stepped out.
Thor looked at Jackson. Jackson was grinning. “Cranky.”
“Cranky, yes. She doesn’t look much like a conspirator in any kind of demonic cult,” Thor said.
“And we both know looks can be deceiving,” Jackson reminded him.
Justin Crowley walked in then.
It was, Thor knew, a mistake to go by looks or any preconceived notion. The man, however, seemed like the most likely suspect. He was like a weathered rock—strong against whatever might come. He also had a hard, rather sour expression—he might have a heck of a lot more bulk than the farmer pictured in the painting American Gothic, but he looked just as grim.
“You couldn’t just talk to me and the wife at the same time?” he asked. “And how the hell long are you going to keep all these people here? Now you got all the cops and whoever traipsing in and out all day, too—hell of a thing to get these floors picked up now and everyone wanting coffee and more.”
“Perhaps you won’t begrudge people coffee, when they’re trying to find out who killed a young woman who won’t have the opportunity to work again ever,” Jackson said.
“I don’t begrudge them coffee—they can have all the damned coffee they want. Ain’t my coffee. Film people paid for all that’s in here. They just need to start taking care of themselves a little. Where’s this, where’s that? You don’t have any of this kind or that fake sugar? This is a quiet place, most of the time. People rent it out and come and go, but there’s a time limit on it, you know?”
“No time limit on finding a murderer,” Thor said. “So, did you see anything unusual—besides the setup by the film folks,” he put in quickly. “Did you hear anything, did you see anyone else on the island anywhere?”
Justin Crowley waved a hand in the air. “It’s a private island. We know when people are due out on the ferry. Hell, just ’cause it’s Alaska, doesn’t mean we’re not like the rest of the world! Sometimes, yeah, kids like to come out here from the mainland to the ‘rich people’s island,’ and bring girls and beer or cheap wine, but they don’t stay. We got grizzly bears in the forest and they are mean—especially the momma bears when they got cubs. If kids come, they hang out in the water, hug to the coves. In winter, you can get iced in, so no one comes then. We got generators, the missus and me, because it can freeze like a mother here and the electric can go. Did I see anyone else today—no, I did not. Did I hear anything—no, I did not. I didn’t know one damned thing about the girl in the snow or the woman killed back in Seward until you all came out here today. And that’s a fact—and there’s nothing I can say or do to help you. I wasn’t looking out for anyone to be on the island. I wasn’t paying much attention. We were just getting ready for the film people, sprucing this place up. Hadn’t been rented out in a while. It wasn’t dirty, but it’s like anything else. You don’t use it, somehow you still have to clean it anyway.” He leaned forward suddenly. “Don’t you think we’d like to help you? We live here—survive here. Thinking some maniac who likes to cut people in half might be running around isn’t a good thought, not for my wife and me. We’re a little old to be hitting an overcrowded job market!”
“People don’t always realize what they might know when something first happens,” Thor said. “After a while, you might remember a sound or a moment or something out on the ice. I’m pretty sure that whoever did this had some knowledge of the island.”
“Something might come to you later,” Jackson said. “It doesn’t matter how small.”
“Sure. So, what’s happening now? You’re not leaving the wife and me out on this island alone with a killer running around?”
“No, we won’t be leaving you alone,” Jackson said. “You’ll have forensic crews going through everything at the Mansion through the night.”
“You and your wife are sleeping here?” Thor asked him.
He nodded. “We were planning to, anyway. Natalie Fontaine hadn’t been sure how it would all go. We were prepared for her crew to stay at the Alaska Hut, too.”
“Someone will be here,” Thor assured him.
Justin Crowley nodded and set his hands on his chair. “Then I guess ‘someone’ can talk to me anytime they want. You finished with me for now?”
“Yes, we are. Thank you, Mr. Crowley,” Thor said. “And you know, of course, that we have search warrants that allow us to search every inch of property here, including your personal space?”
Crowley smiled. “Feel free. We’re too old for any personal kinky stuff, so it will be kind of boring, but, hey, go for it.”
Crowley left the room. “Hm,” Jackson murmured. He looked over at Thor and grinned. “Sometimes, the older, the kinkier.”
“Please, Lord, don’t give me any mental pictures!” Thor told him. He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his eyes.
“What do you think—seriously?” Jackson asked him.
“Seriously—don’t
