His nostrils flared. “True. I didn’t think Amos would make an appearance. My bad.”
His bad? She gritted her teeth. “I take it Amos lives in the closet?”
Brock moved away from the door. “He lives in the basement. Has his own entrance and heating system.” He strode past her toward the conference room.
She followed, relaxing her jaw. “Amos the weather guy?” Brock had mentioned him last night.
“Yep. He’s our weather guru.” Brock looked over the pile of manila file folders.
Amos had been repeating himself and hitting his head on the door? “Is he, I mean, is he on the spectrum?” She walked around the table and retook her seat, her limbs heavy as the adrenaline receded.
Brock shrugged. “He’s just Amos. You scared him, so you’ll have to meet him another time. He’s harmless, I promise.” The sunglasses were perched on his head, and his eyes had turned an unreal green. He drew off his jacket and shook snow onto the floor. “Find what you needed?”
“Kind of,” she admitted, gesturing toward the vacant folding chair across the table, ignoring the instant difference in the atmosphere around them. Brock Osprey had a presence, that was for sure. Masculine and tough. “What happened to your face?”
Brock touched the bruise. “I woke up a bear. Long story.”
Fine. Whatever. She pushed a file out of the way. “I’ll give Amos some time, and then I want an introduction. For now, I’m going to concentrate on two cases to start. Hank’s and Tamara Randsom’s, and then I’ll move to the other missing person investigations the sheriff put together.”
Sheriff Blazerton had created a file for the missing Tamara Randsom on May sixteenth, earlier that year, noting his suspicions that she wouldn’t have left her kids behind with no contact—and that was the only information in the file. Ophelia called the local newspaper, and a nice reporter named Arthur informed her that the sheriff had died on May seventeenth by having a heart attack in the middle of church, and nobody could save him.
Ophelia wanted to continue the sheriff’s work since he hadn’t had time to pursue the investigation. She had already conducted a quick social media search and discovered pictures of Tamara with her children and with various town residents during parties or at outdoor events. Tamara’s final post showedthe kindergarten graduation day of her youngest child on May tenth. So she disappeared between May tenth and sixteenth. The woman looked to be around forty, with curly brown hair and sparkling brown eyes.
Further research showed a divorce decree between Tamara and Leo Randsom filed in Anchorage earlier in March. “Can you offer insight into either investigation?”
“Nope.” Brock shrugged. “A hunter fucked up and shot Hank, and I’m sure it was an accident, so I don’t want to know more than that.”
Ophelia barely kept from shaking her head. “Hank? He died in December, which surely is outside of hunting season.”
Brock snorted. “Season? Yeah, probably. But folks around here hunt for food and not sport, and if they need food in December, they hunt. That’s a fact. So let it go.”
Her job and her boss wouldn’t allow her to let anything go. “Somebody shot Hank in the chest, and we have to find out who pulled that trigger. After sustaining the shotgun wound, he still had time to draw water into his lungs and drown before he could bleed to death.” It made little sense that Brock didn’t want to know, unless he covered for the person who did it.
He stared at her, no expression on his rugged face.
She didn’t peg him as a murderer, but she’d learned long ago that people often wore different masks, so she had to start thinking of him as a suspect instead of an intriguing and badass mountain man who once served his country. Her gun remained at the back of her waist and would be her constant companion during her job here. “What about Tamara?”
“I left town in May after the weather cleared to explore Alaska and become accustomed to the fact that I’m no longer serving as a Navy SEAL—before Tammy disappeared. Didn’t even know about it until I returned last week.”
Ophelia studied his rugged face. “That’s a long time to explore.”
“Alaska’s a big state.”
True. Yet, she didn’t like the timing. “You left right before she disappeared?”
His jaw firmed. “I left when the weather allowed me to do so. Seriously. I barely knew Tammy and had nothing to do with her disappearance. She and her husband Leo had divorced, and rumor has it even today that she might’ve just taken off and moved to a big city. How do you have jurisdiction as to her disappearance, anyway?”
Excellent question. “Tamara worked as a U.S. Geological Survey Scientist, a federal agency, under a grant to study Alaska’s natural phenomena, most specifically glaciers and volcanic activity. That gives me jurisdiction.” The sheriff had included the woman’s grant information in his investigation. Ophelia decided not to mention that the grant period had expired the end of April, after Tamara had turned in her final documents, making a notation that she’d apply for a follow-up grant shortly. That had never occurred.
Brock shrugged and the scent of pine-filled snow wafted from him. Masculine and strong. “I forgot that Tammy worked as a scientist—obviously remotely. If a federal employee disappeared, why has it taken so long for the FBI to investigate?”
Ophelia shifted on her seat. “She held a grant and did not serve as an employee.” So much for keeping the truth to herself. “All right. She completed the grant. But in looking through Sheriff Blazerton’s files, I believe he suspected foul play, and I’m here to work.” It was unfortunate the sheriff hadn’t had more time to look into the case.
“So you don’t have jurisdiction.”
“I do if Tamara disappeared on federal land.” True but a stretch. “Even if you didn’t know her well, this is a small town with very few secrets, I’m sure. What have you heard?”
“Nothin’.” Brock dropped onto the chair, and dust wafted up. “The Randsoms moved up here from the lower forty-eight about five years ago, probably to get away from all the people, just like the rest of us. They live miles upon miles outside of town, up by Silverhowl Peak, and are self-sufficient. After the divorce, Leo courted the youngest McDaniel daughter. I heard they married in July.”
