“Of course. You must have certain skills, and those types of skills are best taught by the elders,” he noted. “So it was an easy assumption on our part. We just didn’t know the details.”

  “The details are simple,” she said. “I had family who taught me skills and lessons that I chose to learn and to learn well, not like a lot of people in this world who think it’s more of a joke than anything,”

  “That is understandable too.”

  “Yeah, it is. Once you need those skills, it isn’t something you fool around with,” she murmured. “When a need becomes one of survival, there isn’t any doubt as to the viability of the information you’ve spent a lifetime learning.”

  “And, in your case, you were gifted with that information.” He gave her a searching gaze. “That makes it even more valuable.”

  *

  A gentle smile whispered across her face, before she even had a chance to hold it back. Something was very comforting about him. She had expected some judgment from him, as she experienced from many others, but none appeared on his face. It was too early to tell, and she was no longer a good judge of men. Maybe she could judge humanity better, but, when it came to individual men themselves, she always questioned everything.

  She looked around. “My heritage did cause a problem, when several of the other members at the university found out I had Inuit blood in my family. I certainly won’t downplay how unpleasant that was to go through.”

  He slowly nodded his head. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t imagine that would have been fun.”

  “No, it sure wasn’t,” she murmured. “Particularly when there was absolutely no need for it, but so much of the academic world is very dog-eat-dog, which is so sad because, again, there is no need for it. I’m here for the work, for the results. I’m not here for the glory. Lots of people don’t believe that. They think it’s not possible to want one but not the other, and I think that’s sad for them. There is so much more to life than being out there, trying to backstab everyone on the climb to the top.”

  “I’m sorry you had to deal with that prejudice.” He nodded. “I’ve experienced it a time or two in my world as well. My size generally causes other people to stay quiet, rather than pushing it too far,” he shared, with a laugh.

  With a wry look in his direction, she nodded. “You have that advantage. I didn’t. And I’m female to boot, so that’s another knock against me.”

  “Not a knock against you at all,” he argued. “Honestly, you’ve done more out here than I think anybody else on this base could do.”

  “Except for one,” she corrected, with a bitterness to her tone. Mountain raised one eyebrow. She nodded. “The man who shot me.”

  *

  Mountain thought about her words in the hours that followed. Amelia had been open and honest and had in no way cut back or minimized the effect of her heritage, even though she didn’t physically show any signs of it. He’d taken a few hits on his own heritage over the years, but, as he’d explained to her, they were not hits that most people cared to push because of his size alone, and he was okay with using his size when it came to those things that he had no control over.

  He had no time or energy for assholes who would judge or knock people for their heritage. There was too much else in this world to spend time on that actually mattered, and he chose not to waste time on those people. Absolutely nothing in her speech, her mannerisms, or her tone suggested that her words were anything but honest and truthful, and, for that, he was grateful. There was no denying the attraction building within him, and finding out they shared similar experiences related to heritage, plus a love of the world and its beauty, certainly didn’t hurt either. Yet it was crappy timing, and right now his focus needed to be entirely on solving the rest of this mess going on around them.

  As he stopped by the office Samson was using, Mountain poked his head in to see the new investigator standing in the middle of the room, an odd look on his face. Mountain quickly stepped in, closed the door, and announced his presence. “What are you thinking about?”

  Startled, Samson turned and looked at him, then frowned, but remained silent.

  Mountain frowned right back. “You’ll have to share your thoughts sometime,” he muttered.

  “Will I?” Samson asked, with a note of amusement.

  Mountain rolled his eyes, stared back at him, and replied, “Yeah, you will.”

  “I’m thinking about what Amelia said.” Looking down at the notes Magnus had written and handed over to him, he continued, “If she’s right, we could be looking for somebody who’s potentially been doing this for a long time, someone who stopped permanently for whatever reason, or stopped temporarily and then was triggered to start again.”

  “It’s the triggering to start again that’s got me worried,” Mountain declared, “because what would it take for that to happen?”

  “You would have to look at what had stopped it in the first place,” he pointed out. “I’ve touched base with a couple psychologists and several other specialists in the field, and generally what stops a serial killer can be a change in environment, such as incarceration, where they got caught for a different crime. Sometimes starting a family, having children, can completely change how a serial killer would view his hobby at that point in time. Any big change in life, getting a certain amount of recognition for something he did that’s not connected to his hobby but provides that same high. It could be all kinds of things,” Samson muttered. “The bottom line is that a serial killer is classed as somebody who’s killed three or more people, and, of course, there’s a special class for shooters who take out people in masses. However, for a serial killer in this case, we would be looking at somebody who had systematically, slowly murdered people throughout his active period.”

  Mountain absorbed that for a moment. “Yet we had fires here, plus the generator problems on base and at the scientists’ camp, which may or may not be related. We had poisonings, but one was misguided love. We definitely had drug problems on this base. What I’m saying is that, we may well have one serial killer, but we also have others endangering our lives. So we have someone who could also methodically trigger other people to commit crimes, like some cult leader, and he would stay in the shadows. … Yet why? And why now?”

  “Sometimes for no other reason than simply because they can. As Amelia mentioned, the military is a hell of a breeding ground for anybody looking for killing opportunities,” Samson replied, with a shrug. “Not everybody is geared to kill just for the thrill of it. Some military leaders are absolutely terrified of the destruction they cause when they give orders, particularly controversial orders. Yet other leaders are absolutely enthralled with making decisions that represent life or death to other various people.”

  They discussed the possibilities for a few minutes, exchanging what they thought on the issues, and then, out of the blue, Samson added, “I’ll need to talk to her myself.”

  Mountain nodded. “I want to be present.”

  His eyebrows shot up, as he looked back at him. “I want to see how she handles being questioned by somebody else, changes in mannerisms, things such as that,” Samson explained.

  Mountain nodded. “I have seen her reactions to me, but you could be the wild card.”

  “I’m fine with that,” Samson stated, with a grunt.

  “When do you want to do it?”

  “Now would be good.” Samson shrugged.

  “You need to be aware that we spoke about her briefly dating a serial killer, and that is partly why she has so much knowledge and insight into them. Fearful of repeating the experience, yet wanting to understand, she did a lot of studying on the topic.”

  “You would have thought that might send her into that field, not up here dealing with the mountains and the winter glaciers,” Samson noted. “That’s a very specialized field in itself.”

  At that, Mountain explained about her father and great-grandfather. “I wonder if maybe she spent an awful lot of time up here in order to help her recover from dating a serial killer, then later after the deaths of her great-grandfather and her father.”

  Samson nodded. “That would make sense. She’s been blessed to have that kind of training, that kind of help.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Mountain confirmed, with a smile. “I’m not sure she believed me, but I sensed relief that I didn’t judge her for her Inuit background. She seems sensitive to that.”

  Samson laughed. “You’re the last person to judge her for that or anything else. I’m sure you’ve got your own horror stories to share.”

  “I’ve certainly got a few, but they didn’t last very long. People have to be half suicidal to take me on, particularly after insulting me.”

  Samson nodded and gave a light chuckle. “I can imagine that much. Let’s go see what we can rustle up this time,” he muttered.

  “I’ve got some contacts looking into the history on various people here to see how much might have come up in background checks that was common or shared among everyone here. We do have chaos going on, with multiple avenues to cause problems or to obscure the main problem. However, what if the killings alone are just by one person?”

  “I suspect that it is just one person,” Samson declared. “While we have one person in custody, he won’t talk, and he hasn’t given me any idea as to why he would poison Teegan. Still, that’s got to be considered. If Chef’s protecting somebody, then he probably knows who the serial killer is. That’s what bothers me.”

  “Not that I think Chef is our serial killer, yet a serial killer would do the same thing—not talk, not explain—wouldn’t he?” Mountain asked.

  “Maybe, maybe not. Again I’ve got the shrinks on that too.” Samson picked up a notepad, walked to the door, and looked over at Mountain. “Are you coming?”

  “Oh, I’m coming,” he said, with a smile, “if for no other reason than to see how she reacts.”

  “You seem to be expecting some reaction,” Samson pointed out. “I’m not sure that’s being fair to her.”

  “There is no fair right now,” Mountain stated. “She seems to be telling the truth. And I, just like her, don’t trust that easily.”

  “Did you date a serial killer too?” Samson asked, with a smirk.

  “Nope, but, like her, I also know what people are capable of.”

  Samson gave him a hard look and nodded. “Don’t we all. … Don’t we all.” And, with that, the two men walked out and headed to the medical clinic.

  Day 5 Near Dinnertime

  Amelia opened her eyes to find Mountain staring at her. She jolted in surprise and shuddered in pain. A second man stared at her, with an open and yet friendly interest. She immediately pegged him as the investigator. She knew someone had to be coming soon, although something was different about him. “Great,” she mumbled. “More questions?”

  “Always more questions,” Mountain replied cheerfully. Then he frowned and stared at her intently. “How are you feeling? Do you need more pain meds?”

  “I’ve felt better,” she muttered bitterly and shifted slowly in the bed. In spite of her best efforts, a groan escaped. She stilled and lay here, her eyelids closed for a minute to catch her breath.

  “Sorry,” the investigator replied in an apologetic tone. “Some things can’t wait.”

  She gave him an easy look and nodded. “Some things can wait. Some things shouldn’t have waited,” she muttered.

  “Meaning?”

  “I don’t know. It feels very much as if everything you’re doing is too little, too late.”

  “That’s how we all feel,” Samson admitted. “We’re hoping to stop another death, but we’re also hoping to bring somebody to justice. As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, I’m Samson, one of two investigators here. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “I wish I could say it was nice to meet you but, under the circumstances, not so much. For the record, I don’t think it’s about justice.” She paused for a long moment. “It feels very much as if something else is going on here, and it’s freaking scary.”

  “I won’t argue with you on that one,” Samson said, as he pulled up a spare chair.

  She looked around and realized that Sydney was gone. “This must be an intense questioning session, if you kicked Sydney out,” she noted, focusing her attention on Samson.

  “I didn’t kick her out,” he corrected, with a smile. “She’s gone to get you some coffee.”

  Her heart lightened at the idea, and a smile touched her face. “Coffee would definitely help.” She turned her head to the side to have a better vantage point and to be a bit more comfortable. “It’ll be really nice to get out of here at some point.”

  “It will be nice, but still better if we can get everybody out in one piece,” Samson explained. “Otherwise I’m afraid nobody’s getting out.”

  “Including me?”

  “Including you,” he confirmed.

  She let her eyelids drift closed. “How are my dogs?”

  “They’re fine,” Mountain replied, with a chuckle. “I check on them every day.”

  A glimmer of a smile crossed her lips. “My dad would have my head if I didn’t look after those dogs.”

  “I would probably do the same,” Samson agreed. She looked at him, and he nodded. “Yes, Mountain told me about how you dropped off your dogs with Joe first, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “Any particular reason why you need that information?” she asked cautiously.

  “I happen to think the good guys love and respect animals. So for you to get them to safety, before you got yourself to the doc, tells me a lot about you. Plus, I let Joe know where you were, how you were, to ensure we were all on the same page,” Samson shared, with that same careful tone. “Is it a problem?”

  She shrugged. “No, not really. I’m not planning on sticking around here. My dogs and I will return to the village as soon as I can. So it really doesn’t matter either way.”

  He gave her a ghost of a smile. “Even though you are not military, you are welcome here, for as long as you like or for as long as it takes you to heal. I have absolutely no problem with your heritage,” he told her. “Anybody who does is an idiot.”

  She stared at Mountain, her gaze hard. “A lot of idiots are out there,” she stated, peeling her gaze away from Mountain, then staring at Samson under a hooded gaze. “Generally they come in the form of all kinds of military.”

  “I come from the navy,” Samson stated, “and we have our fair share of idiots too. Thankfully you won’t meet too many of them here.”

  “I wonder,” she noted, with a slight tilt of her head.

  “Do you think you were shot both times because of your bloodline? You certainly don’t visibly carry your heritage,” Samson shared. “So unless you tell somebody …”

  “I guess it depends on if you’ll tell somebody.”

  “Me?” He looked at her, with an expression of astonishment. “Why would I do that? I’m here to sort out something completely different. I couldn’t care less where you come from or who you spend your holiday time with. Honestly, I’m jealous that you had family like that to call your own.”

  “That’s all I had though,” she clarified. “My sisters and I aren’t close, and they didn’t have anything to do with that side of the family, and we still tend to disagree over them, even after they have all died.”

  “That’s what family is all about though.” Samson grinned. “You get to disagree with them, yet still live your own life and make your own choices.”

  She smiled. “Agreed. As for the matter at hand, I really don’t think I can add anything else to what I’ve already told Mountain and Magnus.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. So we’ll keep moving forward and see what comes up.”

  “Ask away then,” she muttered, as she settled into her bed. “Honestly, I can’t remember anything else to tell you.”

  He looked down at his notes. “I understand you saw whoever it was shooting at you each time.”

  “No,” she corrected. “I saw several people out there several times.”

  “Was the shooter with others, or was the shooter alone?”

  “The one guy I thought was stalking me, which may or may not have been for fun,” she replied, as an afterthought, “was alone.”

  Samson looked at Mountain, who mouthed, Eric. Then Samson checked his notes again. “No dogs were with the shooter?”

  She shook her head. “No dogs. He was on skis, and honestly, he was moving at a hell of a clip. So it was somebody used to these Arctic conditions or who has spent a long time working in these conditions. In other words, it wasn’t a hardship for him to be out there, unlike many other people on base.”

  “Got it.” Samson nodded, as he wrote down more notes. “You couldn’t tell his age or anything? You couldn’t tell more by his posture, the way he moved, anything?”

  “No, I couldn’t tell any of that. I’m not sure anybody could, honestly, in that white camo winter gear.” She frowned, as she thought about what she had seen and how he’d moved. “He seemed relaxed. He wasn’t awkward out there. His movements were natural, and he seemed happy being out there.”

  “But you only ever saw the one person.”

  “No,” she clarified, forcing her point again. “I saw lots of people. You have a lot of training going on.” She took a moment to add, “Depending on the time of day, day of the week, and weather conditions, I saw quite a few people, but nobody who I felt comfortable enough with to bring any of your missing people back to the base.”

  “What about Teegan Rode?” Samson asked.

  “When I first found Teegan, he was in a rough shape, and I didn’t want him traveling, not until I could get him a little more stable,” she explained, “and then I got shot the first time. I did move him and me to another ice cave, where I had more supplies—food, water, blankets—where we and the dogs could lay low for a few days. However, after the second shooting, I couldn’t do any more for Teegan. I needed help for him and for me.”