Under the Alaskan Ice Read online

  That brought reality home to Meg with a thud. At least after a couple of days, once that plane and pilot had been brought to the surface to be studied, Bryce Saylor would be gone, at least as far away as Juneau. Whatever was wrong with her that she’d let her pilot avoidance rule slip with him? Everything had just happened too fast.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked Suze, who, after all, had the claim of being the older sister by several minutes. They were both missing their cousin, Alex, who had lived here and had just gotten married this autumn. She and her new husband were spending the holidays in England, where Alex’s parents were living now.

  “Help?” Suze said, smacking her hands on her bib apron. “Says the woman who oversees the kitchen? Let’s get a hot meal together for the man and figure out what we need to order for when his team arrives. Despite the fact a tragedy brings them here, it’s great to have some winter guests other than a few skiers or snowmobilers. I wouldn’t be surprised if some local or Anchorage media drop in to talk to you and Chip too, especially since their first responders finally showed up at the lake.”

  “Yes, but all were too late. And have left already,” Meg added with a sigh. As exhausted as she was, she started to jot down things she’d need to do to get a good, hot leftover Thanksgiving dinner ready and fast, assuming Bryce was coming directly here from the lake scene.

  She was grateful he had come along to help that poor pilot, though again she felt sad for the family of the as-yet nameless man. She more than sympathized.

  “I know you,” Suze whispered to Meg as Chip sat down expectantly at his place at the table. “You are upset not only at the tragedy you saw today, of course, but that you liked the pilot guy.”

  “I admired his work, but nothing personal, Suze,” she said, keeping her voice down so Chip wouldn’t hear, though he was already making buzzing sounds with his Star Wars glider, which was coming in for a landing on the table. “Besides, Bryce Saylor is more diver than pilot. That’s his personal aircraft, like a hobby, not a profession and obsession.”

  “Okay, okay,” Suze said, holding up both hands as if to ward off what was coming, though Meg knew Suze loved to have the last word. “But like I said, I know you, and those pink cheeks are not from the cold lake winds.”

  Meg smacked her sister’s shoulder lightly and headed for the kitchen, just as Incident Commander Bryce Saylor came in, hefting a duffel bag, through the lodge’s front door.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Meg went to hold the door for Bryce. Strange, but the blast of air that came in with him from the darkness seemed warm.

  “You didn’t walk all the way through the snow with that?” she asked, eyeing his big duffel bag. A camera in a plastic case, probably an underwater one, dangled from the strap of the bag.

  “Got a ride in a snowmobile from your mayor—traveling in style. Not a team but a dive partner will be here tomorrow, so I’ll need to book a room for him too if you have extra space.” He stepped closer to pass through the door she held open. “Thanks. I’ll have to examine the wreck and recover the body, literally frozen in place. The mayor said he’d put up orange plastic barrels as a sign around the crash site warning people to stay away. We don’t need someone falling in or tampering with evidence.”

  Standing this close to him, she saw him shudder, perhaps from a memory of seeing the corpse. Maybe that’s something people never got over, one of the many hazards of his career. Or maybe it was being out in the cold so long that made him tremble.

  “We may not be able to bring the wreckage up until late spring,” he went on as he set his things down inside. “Out in the middle of a body of water like that, cranes and lifts won’t work. We’ll use float bags, but you don’t need to hear all that. Just talking too much. If I sound strange it’s because my lips are blue with cold.”

  “They’re not really blue.”

  He turned back to her and said, “Warming up fast in here.”

  She followed him into the common room, thinking that at least he’d be back briefly when they lifted the plane. She wondered how long he would stay now, how much time to recover the pilot’s body.

  Suze came over to greet Bryce. “Glad to meet you but sorry about the circumstances,” she said. Meg introduced the two of them. He took off both gloves and shook Suze’s hand, then glanced around the interior of the large room from stone fireplace to group seating with the large flat screen TV on the wall and the two long wooden dining tables.

  “Did Meg tell you I was here once briefly years ago? Were you related to the elderly lady in charge, or did you buy the lodge from her?”

  Suze said, “Our grandmother left us the Falls Lake Lodge in her will because she knew we loved the area and had happy memories of visiting. We try to offer the same hospitality but we’ve pretty much redone the place itself. Let Meg show you to your room, and you can join us for a late supper of Thanksgiving leftovers—which are pretty good.”

  “Is your boy exhausted after today?” he asked Meg as she escorted him down the hall to the room she and Suze had decided on for him. “He’s a real live wire.”

  “That he is, but when he’s done, he’s done. Goes, goes, goes, then just collapses. He was at the table, then went to play with the dogs, but I’ll bet he’s out cold now. You don’t mind three dogs around, do you? We have a third one here for a while, a Scottie that belongs to our cousin, who used to live here but is on her extended honeymoon. They’ll be living in town after they return, next-door neighbors to your new mayor friend. You know Rand Purvis has the only bank in town.” She realized she was jumping topics, chattering on because she was nervous with him, and that made her even more nervous.

  “So he told me. He’s quite a talker, seems to have his hand in a lot of things. And, no, I don’t mind dogs at all. The more the merrier at holiday time, right? Actually, since I live alone, the more the merrier in general.”

  She opened his room door and handed him the key that had been in the old-fashioned lock. He turned back just inside, put his duffel bag down on the floor and tossed his heavy coat on the king-sized bed.

  “Meg, I really appreciate your help today to get me suited up. Especially that you came out on the ice to meet me when I resurfaced. It was great to see a beautiful face after that—after what I’d seen under the ice. So, will you be at the turkey leftovers banquet?”

  He smiled, and his eyes crinkled even as they seemed to bore into her.

  “I’m the chief cook and bottle washer around here—that is, I oversee meals and the kitchen, so I will be there. By the way,” she added, “the rooms don’t have individual showers, though each has a wash basin and toilet facilities. The private shower room in this wing is right down the hall from you—that way—and the water is hot.”

  “Hot sounds good after the day I’ve had.” He smiled again.

  She nodded and hurried away.

  * * *

  “So,” Suze said as she and Meg set the table together, “did he tell you what the body looked like?”

  “Not really. And please don’t bring it up at the meal.”

  Suze dropped her voice to a whisper. “Okay, on to better things. He’s great-looking. He’s what we used to call a hunk. What do you think?”

  “I think I’d better make sure the gravy I’m reheating doesn’t get that skin on it from not being stirred.”

  “I noticed you let Chip stay asleep in his room.”

  “I just checked. Out like a light. And if he came to eat with us this late, he’d never let anyone—especially Bryce Saylor—get a word in except to answer questions about flying. Oh, here he comes—Bryce. Got to get the gravy, meat and potatoes.”

  “I’ll go, and you get him seated. I fed our other few guests while you were at the lake, so I think I can handle this,” she added, rolling her eyes. “Give me that look I haven’t seen for years if you want me to disappear early and leave you tw
o alone.”

  “Suze! Do not make a mountain out of a molehill.”

  “Some molehill.”

  Meg sighed as Suze darted off, but Bryce was a real presence. Again, she reminded herself not to get involved, that is, more than she could help him relax here, more than she had tried to help him at the lake today.

  “Hey, just set for three?” he asked.

  “Suze fed our other guests earlier.”

  “It is pretty late. Then I doubly appreciate this and that you two are eating with me.”

  She pulled out a chair for him. “I know you must be exhausted.”

  “Actually, it gets to me mentally and emotionally as well as physically.”

  “I can understand that. Danger, tragedy.”

  “And mystery sometimes, a frustrating crime to solve. Meg, besides there being no markings whatsoever on that plane, I didn’t see a flight plan, map or anything like that tied down or floating inside the cockpit, but I figure it just got slammed back into the fuselage in the crash. At least I could see far enough into that area to be sure no one else was there. As soon as I bring up the pilot’s body, I’ve got to scour the interior of the plane for cargo, maybe contraband. Well, enough. No more talk about that tonight.”

  “At least you aren’t missing out on a Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “Actually, my brother’s family in Seattle had dinner a day early for reasons I won’t go into. It was great to see them. I was heading home today but had to drop some things off in Anchorage, got the call en route and headed for Falls Lake. But I’m glad to stay the night, maybe a couple, here at the lodge. That was a lot of flying for one day. Needless to say, I’m bushed.”

  A few days sounded good to her, but she didn’t say so. And where was Suze? All the covered dishes except the gravy were ready to come out and the pie was on the table.

  “Would you please pour the wine?” she asked him, indicating the bottle and glasses. “I’ll see if I can help Suze. I may be the kitchen maven and she handles the business, but we share duties.”

  “You look a lot alike. Who’s older?” he asked as she popped up to head for the kitchen.

  She turned back. “She is by about eight minutes. We’re twins.”

  “I should have known. But I see differences besides length of hair.”

  She wasn’t sure why, but that seemed an intimate comment. Even when his eyes were taking in the rustic lodge, when he admired the moose head or the back array of windows facing the now pitch-black snowy forest, she felt as if he were also looking at her.

  “I’ll be right back,” she told him.

  In the spacious kitchen, though no one else could hear, she whispered to Suze, “What are you doing?”

  “Stirring your precious gravy and giving you two time to talk where you aren’t out in the cold with a crashed plane and people all around—or me sitting there.”

  “Do not play matchmaker.” Meg seized the big gravy tureen and turned off the burner. “Here, I’ll pour. Hold this.”

  “Scold me all you want. The gravy is hot but so is the atmosphere between you two, especially for just meeting him today and under wretched circumstances. Unless he begs off early—and I bet he won’t despite the day he’s had—I’ll be hitting the hay right after I clean up the kitchen.”

  “I repeat, he’s a deep sea diver with a dangerous job, and he’s a pilot! And he doesn’t live around here anyway.”

  “Time for dinner and time to move on,” Suze said in a singsong voice. “Meg, I know how much you loved Ryan and worry about Chip, but they’d both want the best for you.”

  “Which means keeping safe and careful.”

  * * *

  Sitting before the bright-burning hearth after dinner, Bryce was pleased Meg had fixed the two of them hot chocolate “for a nightcap” when Suze went to bed. He was exhausted but he’d sleep hard and fast tonight—he hoped.

  Because, even in this warm, well-lit place with two lovely women, he kept seeing the dead man, still strapped to the pilot’s seat where he’d left him so he didn’t drift away. In the stark ray of his search light, amid the cold currents, he’d seen the man’s hands rise and fall as if he were conducting a slow, silent dirge, his head nodding in time to eternal music. His face looked shocked, eyes still wide open, as if he were horrified to learn that he was dead. He was bearded with a short haircut, his cap with earflaps floating separately. His sunglasses had fallen into his lap and snagged there. But on the body, no wallet, no ID or papers, though those could well be behind the cockpit or in a lockbox he’d find later.

  Without the required markings on the fuselage, and nothing specific inside, it was just plain weird. Could the guy have been smuggling something? Someone? Still, anyone doing that would know a plane with no markings looked suspicious—unless he only flew in the wilderness and landed strictly on lakes, ice and snow. But to hide or deliver what and to whom?

  “Great cocoa,” he complimented Meg as they sat at opposite ends of a leather couch, facing each other. “A nice change from late coffee. I drink too much of that to keep going sometimes.”

  “If I drink coffee after about three in the afternoon, I can’t sleep that night. I guess the caffeine in cocoa’s not that strong. I get this mix when I buy my chocolate for the various candy confections I make.”

  “I saw some of those at the desk when Suze officially checked me in.”

  She nodded. “There are some in your room too. And for sale at our gift shop out back and in several stores uptown. I call my brand Falls Lake Chocolates. The trick is to keep Chip from gobbling it.”

  “I’ll definitely buy some, take it home when I go.”

  “So you said at dinner that Juneau is home?”

  “After I took an early retirement from the navy, my father died. His will left me not only his house but his airplane. I was shocked and grateful. My brother had no interest in either, so he was left money and some family furniture. He’s an architect—Greg.”

  “I’m sure your father was successful. I know how much your plane costs—or at least what it cost several years ago.”

  “He did make a success of his career. He had a dealership selling small aircraft throughout Alaska and western Canada. I never could have afforded either the house or that plane on retirement navy pay, even though I’m also part owner of an algae farm.”

  “Really? I’ve heard about those. Where did you serve in the military?”

  “I’ve dived some great places like Hawaii, Seattle, South Florida—and then Saudi Arabia, which was not so great—pretty dangerous.”

  “Your father was a pilot, then?”

  “And my grandfather. My dad was in the navy but a diver, so I guess I’m a little of both of them. I’m a pilot not by career but by love.”

  She nodded and blinked back tears, looking down into her cup of rich, dark chocolate. “My husband was a bush pilot here. Dangerous too but in a different way from flying in the service or commercial.”

  “Definitely. I’m sorry for your—and Chip’s—big loss. I can see your son loves planes and flying. He’s young, but I understand that, even though my father died flying like Chip’s dad did.”

  Her head jerked up. “Your father crashed?”

  “Not exactly. He had a heart attack landing and managed to get the plane down before he died. You should see his—now my—house, though—on the edge of a cliff overlooking a stunning ravine with a view of the forests and mountains just outside of Juneau.”

  She nodded and took another sip of the cocoa. He’d said that as if she really should see his house. And every time their gazes met and held, she felt she was already on the edge of a cliff with a stunning view.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Glad you’re back, Mr. Saylor!” Chip greeted Bryce when he came back to the lodge for lunch the next day after checking out his plane and the crash site on one of t
he lodge’s snowmobiles. “Sorry I couldn’t go with you, but Mom said your friend will go with you when he gets here.”

  “I thought he might have arrived but didn’t see his truck. It’s a long drive from Juneau, lots farther than Anchorage. I don’t text or phone friends when they’re driving to ask their estimated time of arrival. Remember that, Chip, when you get a phone someday. Don’t use it or answer it when you’re driving.”

  “Driving?” he said, wide-eyed. “I just learned to use snowshoes.”

  The boy still had a brush in his hand from currying the two dogs he and Meg had evidently been bathing. The dogs ran out behind him. The cocker spaniel shook himself, though he looked pretty dry. Chip’s clothes were splattered with water. His sweatshirt was stuck to him like a T-shirt. Bryce wondered if Meg was that wet.

  “I like your special first name, Bryce,” Chip said as Meg came out of the back room behind him. She was holding two big soaked towels but managed to look dry.

  “Oh, yeah, my father flew one time right down the middle of Bryce Canyon in Utah. He said it was awesome and beautiful. There were huge rocks, some balanced just right. It was about when I was born and he really liked that name.”

  “No, I mean the name incident commander for deep dive discovery,” Chip said. “Mom looked you up online.”

  Meg put in quickly, “I just wanted him to understand what you do. That you are not a professional pilot.”

  “True,” he said, fascinated that she was blushing. “Nonprofessional or not, I do a lot of flying, which is tied to my job. It gets me places far out in the wilds like Falls Lake,” he added and ruffled Chip’s damp hair as he went closer to Meg, extending the key to the snowmobile. “Please tell Suze to put the gas I used on my bill. My plane was there waiting for me at the lake and started right up despite the cold weather.”

  He looked at Meg over Chip’s head as he put the key in the palm of her hand. Chip bounded off with the two bigger dogs and the little Scottie following close behind. “I may need that key again,” he told her. “Or you might. If you don’t want to come back to the lake while Steve and I are retrieving the body, I completely understand. Especially don’t have Chip there then.”