Angie blinked. She didn’t have an answer to that. Was it possible that Malcolm had only wanted someone to go with him so any suspicion the police had about him might be deflected?

  11

  After her lunch with Maggie, Angie drove back toward her house. She was paused at the stoplight in the center of town, deep in thought, when she saw a familiar face going into an antique shop. Cheryl, accompanied by a man she didn’t recognize. If she wanted to know more about Malcolm, who better to ask than their shared neighbor?

  She waited until the light turned green then pulled through the intersection and into a parallel parking spot next to the sidewalk. She hurried to cross the street and go into the store, worried that Cheryl would leave before she got there.

  The interior of the store was dark and dusty. There didn’t seem to be any particular organization; furniture was lined up haphazardly, with tables and cabinets full of smaller antiques interspersed throughout. It took Angie longer than she expected to find the other woman. When she finally rounded a corner and saw Cheryl looking at a tea set, she breathed a sigh of relief and gave a small cough to alert the other woman of her presence.

  “Angie!” Cheryl jumped, almost dropping the teacup she was holding. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw you come in, and I wanted to talk to you,” she admitted. “It’ll be quick. I just need to ask you something about Malcolm.”

  “Oh, Mal. He’s a sweetheart. I feel so bad for him, living all alone like he does.”

  “He does seem nice,” Angie said. “I was just wondering; did he get along pretty well with Bill? He’s the one who found the body, you see, and if they were close, I’d feel terrible for him.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. She knew how much Cheryl loved to talk, and she didn’t want to give the older woman any reason to start spreading a rumor that Malcolm had something to do with Bill’s death if he was innocent.

  “I think they got along pretty well,” Cheryl said. “I never really saw them interact much, come to think of it. I know your dad took him under his wing, but he never really had much of a reason to spend time with the other guys. I think he’ll be just fine, dear, but if you want to bring him something nice, baked goods are always appreciated. A homemade pie can say a lot.”

  “Thanks,” Angie said. “I think that’s all I needed to know. Sorry for bothering you, I’ll let you get back to your shopping now.”

  She turned to go just as a man rounded the corner, nearly running into her. “Be careful, Fred!” she heard Cheryl admonish from behind her. The man grunted an apology and sidestepped to let Angie slip by. She left the antique shop with a heavy heart. Nothing Cheryl had said had been enough to either clear Malcolm’s name or convince her of his guilt. She knew her father was innocent, which meant that either Dave or Malcolm must have killed Bill. They were the only two other people who had been near the property that day, and if Detective O’Brien was right about Bill’s death being a homicide, that meant the killer was someone she knew.

  The thought of one of her parents’ neighbors being a murderer stuck with her for the rest of the drive home. Her nerves were already frayed when she turned into the driveway to see an all-too familiar vehicle parked where she normally parked the van. Malcolm was there.

  Fear for her parents coursed through her veins as she pulled the truck up next to his car and shut off the engine. She headed toward the porch, but changed directions when she heard voices coming from the barn where her father stored his dog sledding gear. His truck was backed up to the entrance and she saw pieces of wood loaded into the back.

  “Dad?” she called out.

  “In here!”

  She stepped into the barn to find her father and Malcolm taking apart a wooden dog house. Petunia was curled up on a pile of blankets next to the wall. She wagged her tail when Angie came in but didn’t bother getting up.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Bill’s wife asked me for help with his dogs,” her father said. “I don’t have room for all of them, so I asked Malcolm if he wants to take some. I’m letting him use the old dog houses.”

  “What are you going to do with them all?” she asked.

  “I might keep a couple, the rest will go to other racers,” he said. “Bill’s wife doesn’t think she’s in a place emotionally where she can take care of them.”

  “It will be good practice for when I have more dogs of my own,” Malcolm said. “I’ve never had outdoor dogs before. Your father’s going to make sure I do everything right so they’re comfortable and happy.”

  “I see.” Angie fell silent, trying to keep an eye on Malcolm while at the same time trying not to seem like she was staring at him. Ever since Maggie had planted the idea in her head about him being the killer, she hadn’t been able to let it go.

  “I was going to see if Mal wanted to stay for dinner,” her father said.

  “I don’t have to,” the younger man said quickly. “I don’t want to intrude. I’m sure your family wants time together alone.”

  “It’s fine,” Angie said. “I mean, I don’t mind at all. I’d like to get to know you better.” Realizing that he might take that the wrong way and assume she was flirting, she quickly added, “Since my dad’s mentoring you, and all. We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other.”

  “Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d love to have dinner here,” he said, giving her a hesitant smile.

  “Should I go tell Mom? If you’re going to be done out here soon, I can get dinner started.”

  “Thanks, Ange,” her father said. “We’ll probably be in in about twenty minutes.”

  Angie left the barn and headed toward the house. She felt flustered, and wasn’t sure whether it was because she was about to eat dinner with someone who might be a killer, or because she was about to eat dinner with a man she was attracted to and she really did not want their first dinner together to be with her parents.

  12

  Dinner didn’t help matters at all. Malcolm was never anything but a gentleman during the meal, and it was obvious that he knew her parents well. She felt a bit of guilt at the thought that they had taken him under their wing since their own children had all but abandoned them. She felt caught off guard during the whole meal, and couldn’t stop staring at the man, which her mother noticed, judging by the wink the older woman gave her when she got up to clear the table.

  By the end of the meal, she was no closer to finding out whether he was guilty or innocent. She went to bed with turmoil in her heart, and woke up dreading the coming hours. She had only been back in Alaska for a few days, and each one had come with its own disaster. This morning she was due back in the diner, and she just didn’t know if she had it in her to be a smiling face to the customers all morning.

  She got her first surprise when she opened the diner’s door at seven-thirty in the morning to find a stranger already in the kitchen. She was a young woman who looked like she was in her early twenties. She had blonde hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail, and wore thick-rimmed glasses. She turned when she heard the door opening and gave Angie a bright smile.

  “Hi, I’m Grace. It’s nice to meet you. Your dad’s been talking about you all month, ever since he learned you were moving back. I feel like I practically know you already.”

  “Hey,” Angie said. “I’d introduce myself, but from the sound of it I don’t really need to. Feel free to just call me Angie. Theo keeps trying to call me Mrs. Seaver, which makes me feel like an old, married schoolteacher.”

  “Okay. Angie it is. So, how do you like it here? Is it just like you remembered? Are you used to the cold yet?”

  “It’s been… interesting,” Angie said as she walked over to the sink to wash her hands. “And yes, pretty much everything is like I remembered. The coffee shop is new, but that’s about it. I’ll never get used to the cold, I’ve resigned myself to that.”

  “Would you rather cook or serve? I don’t mind, I’m happy doing either.”

  “I don’t mind either,” she replied. The young woman seemed nice, but talked a mile a minute. It was still early enough that Angie felt partially asleep. “You got your wisdom teeth out, didn’t you? I listened to your voicemail. How did that go?”

  “It was terrible,” Grace said, cheerfully seizing the topic. “Well, not the surgery itself, I don’t really remember that, but the day after was the worst. My mouth still hurts, and I have painkillers, but they don’t work as well as I thought…”

  She continued talking. Angie let herself relax into the conversation, putting everything else that had happened over the past few days out of her mind. She still had a lot to think about, but right now all she had to do was focus on her job. It was easy enough to relax into the routines of the day and forget, just for a little bit, what was going on at home.

  Angie stayed for a little while after her shift to make burgers for herself and her mother. Her father had told her that morning that he was going to go over to Dave’s for a beer and some television after work, so it would just be the two of them for dinner.

  She drove home, feeling almost peaceful despite everything that was on her mind. It really is beautiful here, she thought. I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long. She thought about her brother for a moment, living on the east coast with a fiancé she had never met, and resolved to send him an email later that evening. His fallout with the family had been worse than hers, but even so she was sure he would want to know everything that had been going on here.

  After getting home, she set up some TV tables in the living room for her and her mother and they ate together while watching the news. The cats begged for food just as badly as any dog, and Angie broke off pieces of her burger to give them.

  “So, which is which?” she asked her mother, gesturing at the cats. “I should probably learn how to tell them apart.”

  “Checkers has the white spot between his ears. Chess doesn’t,” her mother told her. “And don’t feed them your food, Angie. You’re teaching them bad manners. Look at them, they know you’re an easy mark. You don’t see them pawing at my plate.”

  “Sorry.” She waved her hand in an attempt to shoo Checkers away. “I’m still surprised you have cats. You always refused to get one when we were growing up.”

  “I couldn’t very well turn two bedraggled, freezing kittens away, now, could I?” The older woman gazed at the cats fondly. “Really, it’s Cheryl who convinced me to keep them. She pointed out that I could use some company in the house. Your father’s gone a lot, and with me being unsteady on my feet, it isn’t really safe for me to bring one of the dogs in when I’m alone. They aren’t always very careful, and I’d hate to think what would happen if I got knocked over while no one else is home.”

  “Well, I’m glad you have them,” Angie said. “And I’m glad you have Cheryl. She seems like a good friend. Does she take you into town a lot?”

  “A couple times a month, usually,” she said. “I was actually surprised when she called me the other day, we had just gone out the day before you arrived. I guess she just really needed to go to the store and didn’t want to go alone. Between you and me, I didn’t really feel up to it, but she just sounded so desperate on the phone I had to agree to go with her.”

  “That’s nice of you, but I’m sure she’d understand if you told her you weren’t up to going out. Did I tell you I saw her yesterday? She was going antique shopping with someone.” Angie frowned. “I think his name was Fred?”

  “Fred? Oh, dear.”

  “What?”

  Her mother looked around as if double checking that they were alone, then lowered her voice. “I know you aren’t one for gossip, Angie, but you can’t even tell your father what I’m about to tell you. Okay?”

  Confused, Angie nodded. “I promise. Now tell me, what’s going on?”

  “Two years ago, Cheryl told me she had started to see someone. A nice man named Fred. Your father knows him, I think. He lives in the next town over and goes on the yearly hunting trip with the guys.”

  “She was seeing him? But… she’s married.”

  “I know.” Her mother nodded. “I didn’t approve, and I told her as much. I thought she broke it off with him, but if you saw them together, she must have started seeing him again.”

  “You said he goes on Dad’s yearly hunting trip.” Angie frowned. “Bill must have known him too.”

  “I’m sure he did.”

  “Mom… what time did Cheryl pick you up?”

  “A little bit before eleven, I think. We had only been in town for a little while before you called us.”

  “Dad’s over there right now?” Her mother nodded. Angie took a deep breath. “Mom, does he know about the affair?”

  “I don’t think so, dear, but I suppose it’s possible. I’m sure he would tell Dave if he did.”

  Angie fell silent, staring blankly at the TV. It had all come together, with nothing but a few unexpected words from her mother. She had been foolish to suspect Malcolm. No, it was clear as day. Bill must have learned about the affair and threatened to tell Dave unless Cheryl came clean. Cheryl must have killed him to keep him quiet. And her father was over there right now, completely unaware that he was spending time around the person who had killed his best friend.

  13

  Angie called the police, telling Officer O'Brien everything she had learned. She was speaking so quickly that her words got jumbled and she had to restart from the beginning more than once. He promised he would send someone out to question Cheryl, but that wasn't good enough for her. If her father knew about the affair – which was likely, since Bill must have known, and Bill would have told him – and if he told Cheryl what he knew, chances were, he would end up as her next victim.

  “I'm going over there,” she told her mother as soon as she hung up the phone.

  “What's going on, Angie?”

  “I think I know who killed Bill, and Dad's in trouble.”

  “Ange –”

  “I just need to make sure he's okay, Mom. I can't lose him now. Not when I still have so much time to make up for.”

  “I could come with you…”

  Angie was already shaking her head. “You should stay here. I don't want you to get hurt.”

  “You mean, I'm useless.”

  “No, of course you're not. But if something goes wrong, we need someone to tell the police what happened.”

  “You can’t go alone, Angie. You're my daughter, I'm not just going to stand by when you go into danger. If you don’t want to bring me, fine, but at least bring someone. Why don't you call Malcolm?”

  She hesitated, but then nodded. “Fine, but if he doesn't answer, I'm still going. Dad has no idea how much danger he could be in.” She didn’t know if Cheryl would try something, but she had already killed one person. If she suspected that someone else knew about the affair, there was no telling what she might do.

  She found Malcolm's number in her parents’ Rolodex and dialed it. He answered after a few rings.

  “Hello?”

  “It's Angie Seaver,” she said. “Are you free?”

  “I can take a break. What's up?”

  “I need you to meet me at Dave and Cheryl's house in a few minutes.”

  “Did something else happen?”

  “Not yet. I'll explain everything when we get there.”

  She hung up the phone and looked over to her mother, who gave a satisfied nod. “Be careful, Angie.”

  “I will be,” she promised.

  She got into the van and started the engine, gunning it down the driveway faster than was safe. It wasn't far to the neighbor's house, but by the time she got there she felt as though she was about to burst from anxiety.

  She pulled into the driveway only moments before Malcolm did the same. The two of them parked their cars next to her father's track and got out.

  “What's going on?” Malcolm asked. “Not that I mind having an excuse to step away from my computer, but you sounded worried on the phone.”

  “Cheryl was having an affair with someone my dad and Bill knew, and I think he found out and confronted her and she killed him for it. I don’t know if my dad’s the type to bring it up, but if he does… I just can’t take the risk that she’d hurt him.”

  Malcolm blinked. “That's a lot to take in. How sure are you?”

  “Pretty sure. It's the only thing that makes sense. Unless you did it?”

  “Of course not! Wait, did you really think that? Why on earth would I want to kill Bill?”

  She shook her head. “I'll tell you later. Right now, we have to find my father.”

  She started hurrying toward the large barn on Dave's property, hoping to at least find some hint of where they had gone if they weren't in there. Malcolm called out to her and she turned around to give him a questioning look.

  “There's smoke coming up from the chimney. Someone must be in the house. Let's just go check there.”

  “Good idea.”

  They walked side-by-side up to the house. Malcolm knocked on the door and Angie shuffled from foot to foot until it opened. Cheryl smiled out at them.

  “Come on in, you two.” She turned her head to call back into the house. “Rod, your daughter is here. Malcolm's here too.”

  Angie felt a rush of relief when she heard her father call something back. She couldn't make out what he said, but she knew his voice. He was safe.

  “Dave has been building a new dog sled, and Rod is helping him,” Cheryl explained. “Your father is hoping to get into sled building, I think. I hope your mother's got a room in the house she's willing to set aside for his new hobby. Everywhere I look it’s dogs this, sleds that... I keep telling Dave, this isn’t what I signed up for when I married him, but does he listen? No.”

  She kept chattering as she led them through the house to the living room, where Dave was waxing one of the long runners for a dog sled. Her father was sitting in an armchair, and looked up when they came into the room, giving Angie a puzzled look.