Page 30 of Thaw of Spring (Knife’s Edge, Alaska #2)

T hey’d been driving in silence for ten minutes until Amka couldn’t take it any longer. “What else did Brock say?” She settled into the passenger seat of Brock’s truck. No doubt the sheriff wanted it back.

Christian’s hands appeared loose on the steering wheel. His very talented hands. “Just that Jarod’s body was found close to your house.”

“I need clothes,” she said, glancing down.

“We’ll swing by your place on the way.”

Her entire body ached, and not just from plunging into the river.

The aftereffects of last night still tingled across her skin.

Christian had been amazing, and he’d actually looked surprised that morning when she brought him coffee.

She wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but she hadn’t had the courage to ask.

They reached the end of her driveway, and Christian slowed the vehicle.

Amka’s mouth dropped open at the sight of the yellow crime scene tape stretched across the long drive leading to her house. “More yellow tape.” The tape around the burned building next to the tavern was finally gone.

Dutch walked out of the trees on the far side, his gaze sharp and serious as he moved toward the SUV, looking natural in his uniform.

She rolled down her window. “Dutch, why is there a crime scene—?” Her attention caught on a vehicle farther down the road.

The front end peeked out before the turn that led up to her house.

Her stomach flipped. “Oh my God. Is that Jarod’s truck?

” It was a battered, yellow old Datsun. No mistaking it.

“I can’t really tell you anything,” Dutch said, gaze shifting to Christian. “We’re not on the case. I’ve just been asked to secure the scene until the forensics team gets here from Anchorage. Supposedly they’re on the next flight.”

Christian sat back. “How bad?”

“Can’t talk about it. We need to separate this from your work with the AWT right now.” Dutch flicked a glance at the oversized shirt covering most of Amka.

Her bare thighs chilled. “Can I go inside really quickly? I need clothes.” Heat flushed into her face. She’d obviously spent the night with Christian.

Dutch winced. “I’m sorry, darlin’, but you can’t go inside the house.”

She stilled. “Was Jarod killed in my house?”

“We don’t know. His body was found in the truck.

” Dutch planted a hand on the door. “I’m not supposed to talk to you about this.

But be smart. Tons of folks saw you punch Teller at the bar, and I also had to report finding you and the doctor falling out of the guy’s crappy duplex.

You really do need to go to town and speak with the troopers. This is their case, not Brock’s.”

Christian asked, his voice a low rumble, “No?”

“No. The troopers are in town, and I think it’d be best if outsiders handled this. Not that they’re going to give Brock a choice. Now isn’t the time to fight for the right to have a sheriff.” Dutch sighed. “Trust me, they ain’t happy about that situation.”

“I don’t care,” Christian said. “We’ve always had a sheriff here and usually we’ve stayed out of the troopers’ way.”

Dutch straightened. “I agree. So let’s continue doing that so we can keep Brock as your sheriff, because the town needs him.”

This was too much. How could Jarod have died in his truck right in front of her house? Had he gone inside? He had never cared about boundaries, so it was possible. What if he’d been killed in her home? Amka looked over at Christian. “We should probably get going if they’re waiting for us.”

Christian gave Dutch a look. “I need to talk to you afterward about another attack on Amka last night. Her brakes were cut.”

Dutch sucked in a breath and leaned in, his gaze scouring her. Concern glowed in his faded brown eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” But was she? The world kept tilting sideways, like her center of gravity had shifted and hadn’t reset.

“I’ll call you,” Christian said, his jaw visibly clenching.

Dutch stepped away from the truck.

Amka rolled up her window and shivered. “I can’t believe somebody killed Jarod.”

“We don’t know that.”

“We don’t know what?” she asked.

Christian turned back down the road toward town. “We don’t know that someone killed him. All we know is his body was found.”

That was true. She looked down at her bare legs and the socks still covering her feet. “May I borrow your phone?”

“Sure.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone, handing it to her. “I take it yours is in the bottom of the river.”

“Everything. My whole purse is,” she murmured. Her wallet, phone, ID, the bar keys, and even her favorite lip gloss were in that purse. It had probably washed all the way down the river by now. She looked at the phone. It was locked.

“Zero-eight-zero-two,” Christian said. “My code.”

She glanced over at him. “Isn’t that your birthday?”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t know. I must’ve heard it at some point,” she said, frowning. “Didn’t your brothers try to throw you a party at the tavern a few years back?”

He angled his head to glance up at the somewhat blue sky. “We only lasted inside for about a half hour, and then we took off. Went snowmobiling.”

She studied him, wanting to know more. How did he feel about last night? She couldn’t find the right way to ask him, so she went with the next best question. “How do you know your birthday?”

The legend of how Hank found the young Osprey brothers after an avalanche in some tiny settlement in the middle of nowhere was well known. They all looked like brothers—or cousins, or something—so they were probably related. But no records had ever been found.

“The circus came through when we were kids, and Hank paid a fortune teller to give each of us a birthday. He said it mattered and that we should have something normal.” Christian’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile.

“She said that August second should be my birthday because I was quiet, stubborn, and always watching the exits. That I was a Leo. I didn’t argue. ”

Amka studied him. “I think that’s kind of sweet.

” It made sense, too. Leos were known for protectiveness and strength, and that early August day occurred in the deep of summer where a man like him would be most alive in the wild and wouldn’t want to be boxed in by four walls.

“I get that. August is when everything starts to shift. The land, the air, and even the forest feel like they’re holding quietly with calmness above an oncoming wild storm. ”

He glanced at her. “Storm?”

“Yeah.” She’d only tapped the edges of that last night. He held back and she knew it. “There’s a lot bubbling under your surface. I always suspected it but now I know.”

“You don’t know. A few hours together doesn’t give you insight. Don’t make me into something I’m not. I’m not a good guy.”

Right. Because good guys didn’t jump into freezing water, risk their own lives, just to save a woman who was engaged to somebody else. She’d argue later. Right now, she typed in the code and then quickly called Daisy.

“Hello?” Daisy answered with a cautious note in her voice.

“Hey, it’s Amka. On Christian’s phone.”

“Oh wow. Why is that?”

Amka shifted her weight, acutely aware of how wrong everything felt, right down to not wearing her own jeans. “That’s definitely a long story. But for now, are you at home?”

“No. I’m at the tavern. You weren’t here to open it.”

Amka’s brain just wasn’t locking in. “Thank you for doing that for me.”

“Of course.”

“I need a favor.”

Glasses clinked. “Anytime.”

Amka needed to start thinking clearly. “Is Nixi around?”

“Yeah. She’s slurping coffee with a bunch of her friends. They’re filming more videos. Why?”

Amka thought through the specials of the day. Rudolph could easily handle the kitchen, and if Nixi would work the tables, they should be okay. “I’ll meet you in the back room of the tavern where I keep an extra change of clothes. Daisy, I need a lawyer.”

Christian insisted on driving them the few blocks from the tavern to the sheriff’s station, his eyes sweeping the rooftops. Only a few nights had passed since someone shot at them, but it already felt like years. He parked right out front and ushered them inside, covering their backs.

Inside, Brock lounged against the counter while Flossy sat behind it, alert as always. The two troopers stood near the hallway leading to the offices and interrogation room.

Flossy looked up. “Oh, Amka. I’m so sorry about Jarod.” The elderly woman had run the front of the sheriff’s station for years.

“Thanks,” Amka said.

Brock pushed off the counter. “Christian, why don’t I talk to you outside while the troopers speak with Amka?”

“No. I’m going in with her,” Christian said.

“No, you’re not,” Jeb cut in. “We’ll speak with you next.”

Christian leveled them both with a cold look. “I’m fine.”

Amka patted his arm. Both troopers tracked the movement.

“Come on into the conference room,” Jeb said, opening the door.

“Hey, Amka,” Amos called from the basement. “We have a lawyer in town now. She should be with you.” Amos had been their resident weather guru for eons, and he lived in the basement, rarely venturing out.

Amka paused and raised her voice enough to reach him.

“Thanks, Amos. I brought Daisy.” She shivered and stepped into the conference room, aware of every inch of herself.

No makeup with her hair a mess, though she’d at least brushed it out at the tavern.

She sat at the table next to Daisy, across from the female trooper with the red hair.

It was time to be formal, so she looked up and focused on the lead officer.

“Trooper Pontevo, what happened to Jarod?”

“Amka, we met the other day. Call me Jeb.” He shut the door behind himself and walked around to sit next to his new partner. “We’re friendly here.”

“You can call me Paige, as well. Where were you last night?” Paige jumped right into the questioning.

Amka sighed. There was no point in dancing around it. “I was at Christian’s. He has a cabin.”