Sarah Varland - Tundra Threat

Nothing.

She dropped the arm she’d last held, took several steps back and averted her eyes. She’d seen her share of senseless killing in her work, but this was the first time she’d seen a dead person outside of a funeral home. This wasn’t what she’d expected when she’d signed up to be a wildlife trooper. She’d been through the trooper academy like every other Alaska state trooper, and knew her job was dangerous in a unique way. The wild animals she worked to protect were unpredictable and could pose a serious threat to her safety on their own. And anyone breaking hunting regulations had the potential to be dangerous to her. Those were all risks she understood and accepted willingly when she took the job. But this? She’d never anticipated dealing with murder.

She forced herself to glance back down at the bodies, knowing she’d be asked more than a few questions once she called this in. Especially about whether cause of death was obvious. It was—in the form of a gunshot wound on each.

“Everything okay?”

McKenna bristled at the voice of Chris, the pilot, who was too close behind her for comfort. She whipped around, wondering when he’d gotten out of the plane. “No. It’s not.” He may be a contract-based employee of the troopers, but his narrow eyes were full of something she couldn’t identify, and the way he held himself made it seem as though he had something to hide. She didn’t trust him.

He held up his hands in mock surrender at her tone and let out a low whistle when he caught sight of the scene in front of them. “That’s gonna need to be called in.”

As though she didn’t know that.

McKenna started toward the plane and the communications equipment, but paused when she realized the pilot wasn’t following her.

“Aren’t you coming?” She pierced him with a gaze that she hoped conveyed the fact that it wasn’t really a question.

He took one more long look at the bodies, shook his head and followed her. McKenna climbed into the plane, relaxing slightly when the pilot climbed in next to her and began preparing them for the flight. She wasn’t sure what it was about him that made her uneasy, but after a few years on the job, she’d learned to trust her gut instincts. She called headquarters and left a message to report what she’d found, then leaned back against the seat, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. She wouldn’t be able to fully let her guard down until she was back in Barrow and away from this pilot and his too-watchful eyes.

The scene she’d just observed flashed before her and she wasn’t able to suppress a shudder.

Though she had no logical reason to fear for her own safety, McKenna had a feeling that, back in Barrow or not, she wouldn’t feel like letting her guard down any time soon.

* * *

“I got your message. You think you found a murder scene?” Captain Wilkins’s voice was skeptical. McKenna squeezed her phone tighter. She could almost picture him frowning, bushy eyebrows pressed together, even though she’d only met him once—last week after she’d accepted the transfer and flown up here to the middle-of-nowhere.

“Yes, sir,” McKenna said more calmly than she felt, knowing she’d stumbled over her words when she’d left her message and had likely confused an already abnormal situation even more. “I received a tip that someone had been poaching south of Barrow and had Chris fly me down to investigate. That’s when I found the bodies.”

McKenna exhaled, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. This was almost over. She’d fill out a little paperwork, get that sent off before she left the office and be done with this case. Her heart ached for the dead men, for their families. For the lack of justice. But she’d done what she could. It wasn’t her case. Other law enforcement agencies would look into it from here.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so relieved. She sipped a long drink of coffee as she waited for the captain to tell her how he wanted her to handle her report. The coffee was cold and left over from that morning. But it was better than nothing.

“Thanks for letting me know. Keep looking into it and update me when you know more.”

She almost choked on the coffee.

“Excuse me?” McKenna’s voice pinched in her throat. “It’s...it’s not a wildlife issue, sir. I assumed I’d notify you and you’d pass it on to another trooper nearby. Or another agency.”

“There are no regular troopers near there. Didn’t they show you the map with currently filled trooper posts? You’re it up there, Officer Clark. You were put in command of the Barrow post. That means someone had confidence in your abilities. Do the best you can and resolve this.”

“But...”

“Work with the North Slope Bureau Police Department if you need to, but this is a state trooper investigation. And you have the lead.”

McKenna knew she shouldn’t argue, but when had that ever helped her keep quiet? “But I’m a wildlife trooper.” She stated what should have been obvious, her mind flashing images from earlier in the afternoon that she’d prefer to forget. She couldn’t handle deliberate crimes against people. That was her brother’s expertise—he was an Anchorage police officer and loved every minute of his job. McKenna didn’t know how he dealt with the hate. Hadn’t she just told him yesterday when they’d talked on the phone about his latest case that she’d be terrible at that sort of work?

But the extra layer of steel in Captain Wilkins’s voice made it clear he didn’t care.

“You are. You’ve also been promoted to a position of authority. Poaching is often a motive for other crimes, like murder. It’s not the first time we’ve had a wildlife trooper investigating a homicide. As I said, you have the lead, Officer Clark. I wish it hadn’t happened your first week up here, but it did. Like it or not. Now, solve it or go back to the city.”

McKenna heard a click. “Hello?” She pressed the phone harder to her ear. “Hello?” He’d hung up on her.

Solve it or go back to the city.

She hated herself for it, but for an instant she considered the second option. She loved the city of Anchorage. She’d hoped to make a difference doing a job she was passionate about while living her dream life in the city. That’s what she had been doing until this “promotion” moved her out here into the bush. She was alone in this small town, with no colleagues to consult with, no superiors to go to for advice or mentorship. Nothing. It was just her. And Chris, the contracted pilot, if she counted him. Since the thought of him made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and she still couldn’t erase the look in his eyes that had unsettled her at the crime scene, she wasn’t inclined to think of him as someone on her side.

Should she go back to the city and admit that she wasn’t ready for this opportunity, after all? No. She’d never been a quitter and she wouldn’t start now.

McKenna hung up the phone and stared around at the tiny building designated as her “office.” It was little more than a single-wide trailer, about fifteen feet long. But it had a coffeemaker, a desk and a space heater, and that really covered all the essentials. If she needed more she’d have to ask the police department for help or fly to another village or city where there was a regular trooper post.

She shook her head. This wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Since early in high school, she’d started creating a list of goals for the year every January first. They weren’t just resolutions, they were more specific than that. Like when she’d set a goal to graduate as valedictorian, which she’d eventually accomplished with a perfect GPA and quite a few advanced-placement classes. After she had her yearly goal list, she’d rework her five-year plan to include the current year and write out specific steps she’d need to take to keep herself on track.