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notes and a whole notebook devoted to the unsolved murder of a girl that happened over a decade ago. She took to reviewing cases involving deaths in and around the community.

“Clifford,” she whispered.

Oliver nodded. “Clifford Tuktu was Cecil and Christine’s dad. He went out seal hunting with his brother, Eugene. I saw Gene here tonight earlier.”

“What about Joane’s boyfriend, Earl? She and the kids live with him.”

“Yeah, Earl Melton,” Oliver said. “I saw him too talking to Gene.”

“Was this before or after Christine went missing?”

“After, about the time you left, I think. When I got here, Dana had half the place cleared out.”

“Okay. Oliver, do your best. Start checking around where the kids hang out. It’s Saturday night, I don’t expect anyone to be where they’re supposed to be, but we can narrow down where Christine went.”

As Oliver went toward the exit, Meghan scanned the leftovers. The stragglers and the gawkers, word got out fast. One person she saw was Calvin. He sat on the edge of the stage, texting something.

She knew everything that took place before she returned to George Hall likely had a place in the latest edition of the Northern Lights Sounder. Dana made a big splash with the locals, and it took less than twenty-four hours. Meghan returned to Dana, standing in front of the mayor and his wife. They watched her while Dana sent a series of texts.

“What’s the news?” she asked. Dana looked up from the smartphone screen when Meghan didn’t answer. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you closing down the area? Did you call in the rest of your officers?”

“Dana, you need to relax. You’re taking this way out of proportion.” Meghan hadn’t intended to raise her voice. The last thing she wanted was a splash on Calvin’s social media page that quoted her saying that a missing or abducted child wasn’t a big deal. “I have Oliver checking on Christine’s friends. He’s headed to the places where the kids hang out.”

“Duane, you and Ulva can talk to neighbors. See if you know anyone who knows Christine. You can go home. Thank you for staying.”

“We’re going to have a conversation,” Duane said.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Meghan saw Dana turn her back on her as she continued sending texts. Meghan left the center of the basketball court and wandered over to Eric and Linda.

“How well do you know the Tuktus?” Meghan asked.

“They seem like okay, people. They don’t shop at my store.”

Eric and Linda were owner-operators of the Ammattauq Native Trader Store. A traditional Native Alaska trading post which allowed rural subsistent families to barter goods from the Kennedys in exchange for Alaska Native artwork, gold nuggets, precious metals, and antique jade jewelry and anything that had value. Eric and Linda usually placed family heirlooms in safekeeping and loaned families supplies, until they got back on their feet. Linda was the local curator for the Native Alaska Heritage Center in Anchorage. She was the person who made sure people got fair market prices for their valuable artwork. Eric paid the market price on gold for people who found nuggets or harvested gold dust in tundra streams.

“Did you see Eugene Tuktu here tonight?”

“I did,” Linda said. “I saw him talking to Earl Melton.”

“I assume this was before we had a missing child?”

“Yeah.” Linda leaned over the table toward Meghan and whispered. “She’s a little intense.”

“Well, you understand it’s all relative. When Dana hears about a missing child, it’s usually long after local law enforcement dealt with the disappearance. She deals a lot with missing and exploited children in New York.” Meghan didn’t want to downplay the potential for the same problem in Alaska, because it happened. She didn’t want to jump the shark either. “She has good intentions.” Meghan left it at that and returned to where Dana paced.

Meghan caught Calvin smiling at her. She veered toward him. He slipped off the stage and met Meghan halfway.

“Can I count on you to get the word out?”

Calvin held up his smartphone. It showed a social media page.

“I put out a message for any of my subscribers to look for Christine.”

“I don’t expect anything to come of this,” Meghan said. “But if you can get a picture of her from Joane and post it, that would help.”

“I’ll go find her.”

“Thank you, Calvin.”

He motioned to Dana with his chin. “She’s a little intense,” he said.

“Tell me about it.”

Meghan stood close to Dana as the woman paced in her tight blue jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt. Meghan heard one side of the conversation. She knew Dana contacted someone from the agency. Her jaw muscles ached from clenching her teeth since Oliver’s phone call.

When Dana ended the call, she glared at Meghan.

“Are you done?” Meghan asked.

“I cannot believe you’re not making a big deal out of this. You got a girl who goes missing right under your nose and look at you. I thought you cared.”

“Dana, do not presume anything about me. I am doing my job. And now, thanks to you, everyone attending knows exactly what is going on. They already think the worst of it.”

“But you think you know what happened, and you’re doing nothing.”

“I went with Joane to the apartment. I saw the kids’ room, and I talked to her mother. I don’t have anything to go on right now. Except for the report from her brother, a thirteen-year-old boy.”

“Who happened to find you and asked you to help find his sister,” Dana said. “You used to be on top of this stuff. What happened to you? Your ass isn’t the only thing that got soft around here.”

Meghan shook her head and held back the insult. “Right now, everyone in this village is looking for Christine Tuktu. You did most of the work before I even got back.”

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