speaker, then gave a quick rundown on what he knew, which wasn’t much. To his credit, Warr listened without peppering him with questions until the end.
Birdie spread a map of western Alaska across her desk blotter. The area between the Yukon to the north and the Kuskokwim to the south formed a delta as they flowed toward the Bering Sea. She pointed to the black star that represented Stone Cross and traced a line with her finger about eight miles upriver to Chaga Lodge.
“No sign of the caretakers?” Warr asked.
Aften spoke up. “This is Mrs. Brooks, a teacher here at Stone Cross. Sarah Mead is my friend. I haven’t been able to contact her by radio since day before yesterday. My husband dropped off some caribou meat that same day, but as far as I know, that’s the last time anyone has seen Sarah or her husband.”
Ned Jasper said, “Vitus says the lodge looks abandoned. The generator’s off. Stove was cold when he got there.”
“Didn’t Hagen have a girlfriend in Stone Cross?” Warr asked. “That Swanson girl?”
“Marlene,” Birdie said. “And her old boyfriend, James Johnny, wasn’t too happy about that.”
“Ned,” Warr said. “See if you can locate James. Don’t approach him until we get there. Just find out where he is.”
Red Fox held up his hand, like a student waiting to be called on.
Ned nodded.
“This is Melvin Red Fox, Lieutenant,” he said, introducing himself, leaning toward the phone to make sure he was heard. “James Johnny left to go hunting yesterday afternoon. He usually stays gone a couple days unless he catches something, so nobody thinks anything of it. I can see if his uncle has heard from him.”
“Okay,” Warr said. “Check with him, but let’s keep the details of this to ourselves.”
“That leaves the body to recover,” Ned said. “And the crime scene. Not to mention the missing caretakers.”
Aften Brooks clenched her eyes shut, stifling a sob. “Somebody took them.”
The line fell quiet for a time, with nothing but the ruffling of papers on Warr’s end of the call. Cutter could picture him bent over a map of his own. “What’s the weather look like out your way?” he asked.
Ned walked to the window.
“Pea soup fog,” he said. “Twenty, thirty feet of visibility, maybe, and getting worse.”
“That’s what I thought,” the lieutenant said. “We’re looking at the same conditions. Earl’s stuck in Nightmute on that body pickup. He’s telling me this pattern is supposed to stick around for another day. Planes are grounded here. Even the Alaska Airlines flight tonight is on a weather hold. I’ll see about a chopper from Anchorage, but they’d have to fly through the Lake Clark Pass in the fog at night, so I’m not hopeful on that account. This damned river can’t decide if it wants to be ice or water. It’ll be dicey, but I’ll work on getting a couple of troopers up to you by boat. In the meantime, Ned, do you think you’ve been in Stone Cross long enough to get familiar with the river?”
The VPSO grimaced. “I’ll do my best, L.T.”
“All I can ask,” Warr said. “Secure the scene if you can make it out there. I’ll check with the Aniak post, upriver. They might be able to get as far as the lodge, coming in from the north. Wait for them. I don’t want you going after the Meads unarmed.”
“I grew up here,” Birdie Pingayak said. “I know the river. If you want, we can take you up in my boat.”
Ned Jasper gave a sigh of relief. “That would be good.”
Cutter said, “Anything we can do to help, just say the word.”
“Honestly,” Warr said, “the body isn’t the problem. He’ll still be dead when we get there. But if David and Sarah Mead are missing, they’re either suspects or victims. I could use a few sets of eyes on scene if you don’t mind trying to get out to the lodge with Jasper.”
Cutter shot a glance at Lola, and then the judge. The threat was still a problem.
“One of us will go,” Cutter said.
“Thank you,” Warr said. “I need to call and brief the captain. Ned, check in with me at regular intervals.”
“Copy that,” the VPSO said, and ended the call.
Birdie Pingayak grabbed her coat and hat off the willow hook in the corner of her office. She reached below her desk and came up with a pair of brown rubber boots, holding the corner of the desk with one hand while she kicked off her Nike runners.