Somebody's Secrets Page 4

  Paul nodded. “And if he killed someone, I’ll be the one to read him his rights, and lock him up. But I don’t think he killed anyone.”

  Angela got up and paced. “That’s not the point. You have to stand by family, no matter what. You’re not just a cop. You’re a son, a brother, a friend, a lover,” she said with a quick glance at Dace as if wondering which category she fell into.

  “Would you cover up for a family member if you knew he’d committed some crime?” Dace said in a level voice. Angela looked at her in silence, remembering the story she’d read about Dace’s experiences. “Would you look the other way because he’s your brother while he hurt someone?”

  Angela sighed and flopped down in her chair. “No,” she said. “When you put it that way, no. But Jonas didn’t do it.”

  “That’s what I said,” Paul pointed out.

  “But Paul, there is a lot of gray area here,” Seth said. “If he’s accused of murder, he may stand trial before he’s acquitted. Even if he’s innocent. And, even if he’s innocent, he could be convicted. Not to doubt my expertise, of course, but it happens.”

  Paul’s expression flattened. “What are you asking me? Would I break the law for him? No. Would I use the law to see to it that he had a fair trial and that all evidence of his innocence was presented? With all of my expertise,” he said repeating Seth’s own phrase.

  “OK,” Seth said. “I can live with that. Let me tell you what he told me.”

  Jonas had been out in the field all week, Seth said. He’d been doing some mapping, checking on some animal herds, and picking up some water samples — common tasks for him in the spring. He’d been dropped off Monday on one of the smaller island northeast of Sitka and was working his way back toward a southwest beach where he’d be picked up on Friday. He was carrying a GPS tracker, and made regular phone contact with the office.

  “He loved that part of the job,” Elizabeth said. “He liked the mapping part, especially. Some of the land he’s been over has never been seen by humans before. He’s added names to the maps of lakes and bays. Quite amazing really.”

  “If he had a GPS tracker, the office should be able to plot out exactly where he was and when,” Paul said frowning. “So how was he supposed to be in Sitka killing someone?”

  “That’s the problem,” Seth said. “Hank Petras wasn’t in Sitka. He and his buddies are into orienteering. I guess they go out with maps and a route and compete against each other to find all the markers. There’s a pool of money for a prize. Never heard of it myself.”

  Paul nodded. “So, I suppose their route and Jonas’s GPS track overlaps.”

  “Yeah. But here’s the baffling thing. They don’t have a body.”

  “What?” Paul asked. “How do they even know he’s dead? Much less that Jonas killed him!”

  “Right. Apparently, Hank Petras never made the rendezvous site. The guys waited quite a while before getting worried, because people do get lost on these treks. They’re joking about how they’re going to give him a bad time for taking a wrong turn. But by dark, they’re worried, and they set out to look for him. Damn fools, miracle they didn’t kill themselves in the dark.”

  “So, they didn’t find him, and they didn’t find a body?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No, but they found a lot of blood. Being cops themselves, they staked it out as a crime scene, collected blood and called it in. The tests show it to be the same blood type as Hank’s.”

  “But still no body,” Elizabeth said, looking perplexed.

  Seth nodded, and resumed his story. “One cop hiked out with the evidence from the scene and to alert the chief. The remaining four searched the area. Apparently, they found tracks, followed them, and came upon a campsite that Jonas had used the night before. Thank God he wasn’t there, because I’m not sure what would have happened then. However, someone had the idea to call Fish and Game and see if they knew who was out here. “

  “And cops were waiting for Jonas at the Fish and Game office when he got back Friday,” Angela finished.

  Seth nodded. There was silence as everyone mulled over the story. Dace watched them with interest. Their frowns mirrored each other, and the family resemblance showed up. She stifled a smile. Seth sat quietly, letting them think. He must know the family well, she thought, or at least Elizabeth. He seemed to watch her pretty carefully.

  Paul sighed. “No body. The charge is murder? Not attempted murder?”

  Seth nodded. “The cops felt that the loss of that much blood could mean only one thing. They believe that Jonas carried the body away and buried it or hid it somewhere. Jonas said they kept returning to that when they questioned him.”

  Paul frowned. “Questioned him without an attorney? Are they trying to get this thrown out?”

  Seth shook his head. “He didn’t talk, he says. Given the frustration of the police this morning, I’d say he was good about that. Why they didn’t call an attorney is beyond me.”

  “When’s the arraignment?” Paul asked.

  “Tomorrow at 9 a.m.”

  “Chance of bail?”

  Seth shook his head. “I wouldn’t think so. But I don’t see how the police even have enough of a case to charge him. The prosecutor must be having a hissy fit.”

  Elizabeth’s phone rang, and Angela jumped up to get it. “Yes,” she said. “What? Now? OK, Paul’s here, he’ll handle it. No. Jonas, that’s the way it’s going to be, so just shut up and sit tight, OK?”

  “Jonas?” Seth said, startled.

  Angela turned to the group; her face troubled. “They just cut Jonas loose, said there wasn’t enough to charge him, yet, and they’re processing him out.”

  “It’s almost midnight!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  “Give me your keys, Angela,” Paul said, standing up. Dace stood up, too. “You stay here,” he said.

  “You shouldn’t go alone,” Dace replied.

  “Why? What do you think is going to happen?” Rosemary asked. “They roll the streets up at dark around here, remember?”

  Seth stood up as well, shrugging into his jacket as he followed Paul and Dace to the door. “If Jonas leaves the jailhouse alone, someone will be lying in wait. Maybe more than one,” he said.

  “Mom? You still keep a gun?” Paul asked. She nodded, and went into the back of the house, and came out with a rifle and a handgun. “Which do you want?”

  Dace took them both and handed the rifle to Paul. He checked it for ammo while Dace did the same thing to the .22 pistol. Wouldn’t do much, but it was better than nothing. Note to self, learn to shoot a rifle next.

  “Seth, you stay here. I don’t want to leave Mom and Angela alone,” Paul said tightly. “We’ll bring Jonas back.”

  “Really, Paul,” Rosemary exclaimed. “Aren’t you over-reacting?’

  “Given everything? I’d rather be on the safe side,” Paul said. He looked at Dace. “Let’s go.”

  Dace was silent until Paul backed the car out of the driveway and started down the slope to the main road. When he turned onto the main road, she finally found the words to ask what was troubling her. “You and Seth, your alarm.... Are you being paranoid? I mean, in a good sense?”

  Paul Kitka glanced at her. “If you read any works of oppressed people, you’ll find stories about cops who release a prisoner into the hands of lynch mobs,” he said, returning his eyes to the road.

  Oppressed people? Sounded like university talk, Dace thought. Then again, his mother was a professor. “I know in the South,” she began.

  Paul nodded. “Out West it was the Indians. South it was Blacks. Boston, at one point, it was the Irish. San Francisco — the Chinese. It still happens. Rarely, but it isn’t going to happen tonight. Not if I can stop it.”

  OK, Dace thought. That made it clear. No vigilantes tonight. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Sorry you came?”

  Dace shook her head. “I owe you, Paul,” she said simply. “You saved my life. I’ll back you up.”


  “You don’t owe me, Candace,” he said gently. “I was just doing my job.”

  Maybe, she thought. But it wasn’t just his pursuit of the real murderer that she owed him for. He believed in her. That belief was worth more than anything.

  Neither said anything more. Paul pulled into the police station parking lot. It looked deserted. Paul stopped at the entrance to the lot, letting the car idle while he looked around.

  “Over there,” Dace said, pointing to a couple of police cars that were idling on the opposite edge of the lot. “Cops park their cars front to back so they can talk,” she said. “They’re both facing front.”

  “Yeah. Maybe nothing.” He eased the car on into the lot and parked in front of the jail door. He looked at her. “Not that I think you can’t shoot, but I suspect I’m better at it. And furthermore, I have a gun permit. So why don’t you go in and get my brother while I stand out here and watch?”

  Second note to self, Dace thought, as she got out of the car: get a permit for her gun. She heard Paul get out behind her, but she didn’t look back.

  The lobby was small, but brightly lit. The man she figured for Paul’s brother — he looked like Paul, a little shorter, slighter — was arguing with an older white guy with a gut. “I told you, my brother said for me to stay in here and wait until he gets here. And that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “You can’t stay in here,” the jailor said. It sounded like the argument had been on automatic repeat for some time. “Wait outside.”

  “Excuse me,” Dace interrupted, using a lady-like voice. Both men turned toward her. “I’m supposed to pick up Jonas Kitka. I’m Candace Marshall. Paul’s out in the car,” she said.

  “Get going then,” the jailor said. “Just what we need, both Kitka boys in town.”

  Dace frowned, started to say something, but Jonas gave a quick shake of the head. She turned and went out the door first, partially blocking him as a target. He stepped out of the building, and then stepped out of the lighted door into the shadows.

  The cars at the other end of the lot gunned their motors, and one of them came across the lot, pulling up next to Jonas and Dace. The driver rolled down his window.

  “Well if it isn’t the jailbird,” the driver drawled. “And looks like some jailbait.”

  Dace started to protest her age, but Paul spoke from across the top of his sister’s car. “Jonas, Dace, get in the car,” he said levelly. Neither of them obeyed.

  “And who are you?” the driver said with irritation. Paul didn’t say anything. “Wait, you’re the other Kitka boy, aren’t you? Great. The gang’s all here.”

  “That will be Lieutenant Kitka of the Alaska State Patrol to you,” Paul said in the same level voice. “And who are you?”

  Candace was focused on the car in front of her, so she didn’t hear anyone behind her until hands grabbed her. She fought, using her elbows to aim for his gut, but the man who held her was young and buff, and easily contained her struggles.

  “What are you doing?” someone said. “We just want the Kitkas!”

  “Grab them all,” someone else said. “If we leave one, we’ll never get them to the ‘copter.”

  Dace struggled, and she could see Paul and Jonas were fighting their attackers with some success, but there were too many of them. Where did all these guys come from, she wondered. Then someone hit her head with what felt like the butt of a gun, and the whole unreal scene faded to black.

  Chapter 4

  (Sitka, at Elizabeth Kitka’s home. Present day. Still Monday)

  Angela left shortly after Paul and Dace under orders from her mother. “You’ve got the girls to take care of,” she said. “And your sister to meet in the morning. Go get some sleep.”

  Elizabeth didn’t suggest Seth leave, and he made no motions to do so, looking right at home on her sofa.

  “I have something for you,” she said abruptly, and headed into her bedroom. She returned with a box. It looked heavy, and Seth jumped up to take it from her.

  “What?” he asked.

  “After Luke died, I had the tribal elders request a copy of all the records pertaining to his death,” she said. “I figured it would all disappear given time, and I thought someday I might want it. I always thought Paul would eventually ask to take a look.”

  “But he hasn’t,” Seth said, opening the box and looking at the neatly organized folders. There was also an old cassette tape.

  She shook her head. “He put Sitka and everything pertaining to his father in a locked room in his brain. He doesn’t go there.”

  Rosemary yawned. “Well as fascinating as all this is, I’m heading home,” she said. “I’m too sleepy to wait for the musketeers to get back.”

  Seth looked at his watch and frowned. Elizabeth looked at the clock over the fireplace, and then back at Seth.

  “They should be here by now,” she said.

  He nodded. “Maybe they stopped somewhere.” He knew it was lame, but he couldn’t help but want to ease the fear in her eyes.

  Elizabeth found her phone, dialed Paul’s number. It rolled into voice mail. Same with Jonas’s phone. “Where would they be that they wouldn’t answer their phones?” she said. She headed for a closet and pulled out a coat.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To look for them!”

  He grabbed her, pulled her into his arms and wrapped them tightly around her. “Elizabeth, you can’t go tearing after them! Think.”

  She looked at him. “What else do we do? Call the cops?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s an option,” he said. “But first call Angela and make sure she got home safely.”

  Elizabeth nodded, and swallowed hard. She released herself from Seth’s arms — reluctantly — and dialed her daughter’s number. Angela picked up immediately.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just checking to make sure you got home safely.”.

  “Safe and sound,” Angela answered. “Are the boys back yet?”

  Elizabeth paused.

  “Mom?”

  “No,” she whispered. “They’re not here.”

  “What? Do you want Jim to go look for them?”

  Elizabeth shook her head, then said firmly, “No. Stay put for now. Seth and I will go.”

  “OK,” Angela sounded anxious. “Call us if you need us.”

  Someone knocked on the door. Elizabeth flipped her phone shut and headed to open it. Seth put out a restraining hand. “Easy,” he said. “Check to see who it is first.”

  “I’m not a complete fool, Seth Jones,” Elizabeth snapped, but she did slow down a bit as she headed to the door. Someone pounded on the door again.

  “Open up!” a male voice ordered. “This is the police. We’re looking for a fugitive.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she turned to Seth who was right on her heels. She let him go in front. They looked through the front window. Sure enough, two of Sitka’s police cars were in front, their light bars flashing. Two officers stood on the doorstep; one had his gun drawn.

  “Officer, this is Seth Jones, I’m an attorney for the Kitka family. Do you have a warrant?”

  “We’re in hot pursuit, Mr. Jones. Paul Kitka just broke his brother out of jail and fled. We have reason to believe they are here.”

  Seth frowned. “They are not here. However, we received a phone call an hour ago, saying that Jonas had been released from custody. Paul went to pick him up. Something doesn’t jibe here.”

  “Let us in, and we’ll search the place. If what you say is true, that they aren’t here, we’ll be on our way.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes went to the box of records. She moved swiftly to it and closed it back up. She carried it back to her bedroom closet. When she returned, Seth nodded. “You two officers can come in and search for a person,” he said. “But there should be not further searching of drawers or such where it is obvious that a person could not be hiding.”

  “Un
derstood,” the officer said.

  “First, please identify yourselves. Then I’ll open up the door.”

  “Officer Matt Jameson. With me is Officer George Benedict.”

  Seth Jones opened the door slowly. The two officers pushed past him, but he was ready for that, and just stepped aside.

  “Where are your sons, ma’am?” Officer Jameson asked Elizabeth harshly.

  “Seth told you. Jonas called from the jail. He’d been released. Paul thought it was odd and went to pick him up. A friend of his was with him. They haven’t come back — we were just getting worried. What does the jailor say?”

  “The jailor has a concussion, and he’s been beaten. He says it was your sons.”

  Seth snorted. “Highly unlikely. Paul’s a decorated lieutenant in the Alaska State Patrol. Doesn’t seem like something he’d be doing.”

  “Well, blood is thicker than water,” Jameson said. “I don’t see why the jailor would lie.”

  “I don’t either, but he did,” Elizabeth said. “I took the call from Jonas.” She watched the other officer as he went through the rooms carefully. He returned to his partner’s side. “Not here,” he said briefly.

  Elizabeth frowned. Something was off. He hadn’t really expected them to be here. So, what wasn’t here? And where were her sons?

  “If you see them, call us immediately, or we’ll be pressing charges against the two of you as well,” Jameson said. He nodded at them and the two officers left. They conferred with the other officers, and then three of them left in one car. The other car eased up the street a bit and parked where the remaining officer could watch the house.

  Seth closed the door.

  “Seth, what was that all about? They weren’t here to find Paul and Jonas.”

  Seth looked troubled. “I noticed that, too,” he said. He looked toward the closet where Elizabeth had returned the document box. But how would they even know about it, he wondered. He stopped the next thought before it could even start.

  “Where are my sons?” Elizabeth wailed. He held her with her face buried against his shoulder. She was tall enough that they were close in height. He rubbed her back gently. He’d wanted to hold her for years, but this wasn’t quite the situation he envisioned.