Lost in the Wild by Leigh Mayberry (i am malala young readers edition txt) 📕

“I’m hoping she will, yes.”

“And if she doesn’t and you didn’t respond immediately, what then?”

“What would you have me do?” Meghan asked.

“Close the highway.”

“The town is self-contained. We have about five miles of drivable roadways. That doesn’t include the four miles of Cape Blossom Road.”

“What about the airport?” Dana asked.

“The last commercial flight left here at six this evening. Children aren’t allowed to travel unaccompanied on charter flights.”

“What are you doing?” Dana asked. “You act like you don’t care.”

“Don’t you dare say that to me,” Meghan said. “I am doing my job. Just because I’m not stomping around and making demands like a lunatic doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I made some phone calls. I got authorization from my supervisor. He’s contacting the Anchorage field office.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Time is crucial, Meg, or did you forget about that living out here?”

“No, no way, you don’t come here and start telling me how I do my job. That’s not how it works. It’s been less than a half-hour, Dana. You’re way out of line.”

“And you’re too lazy to do what needs doing. So, I’m going to make sure something gets done properly.”

Chapter Seven

There were more times than Meghan remembered or cared to think about given the current circumstances when she went out of her way for Dana. The woman had a good head on her shoulders but never rose to the level of quality expected of field agents. She had a beautiful face, a good figure, and the bureau liked using pretty people to sell the job. Dana was a mediocre agent at the best of times. She devoted a lot of time to her career, but in the fine-tuning of a case, the less Dana handled, the better off everyone was with the outcome. It wasn’t something Meghan or anyone in the bureau shared with Dana. Her evaluations put her with ‘room for improvement’ notations. The FBI wasn’t a place to fill with warm bodies. Everyone had a job to do. The problem with Dana, she never quite understood that doing her job right meant to allow others a chance to get something done first.

Meghan left George Hall Sports Arena shortly after eleven that night. She finished interviewing the few people who stayed for the show. The school custodians allowed her and Oliver to search room by room the entire school. They checked every available place on the property.

Cecil went home with Earl Melton to join his mother, waiting at the apartment. Anyone with cell phones and social media broadcast the picture of Christine across the entire North Slope. Lester Graves didn’t go to the gymnasium when he started work. He rode the snow machine out to the lagoon to scan the boats making their way back upriver. There were very few people heading back to the villages that late at night.

Dana, in her fit, took a ride from Calvin back to Meghan’s house. What Dana did once she got there wasn’t Meghan’s concern. If what the woman said rang true, by daybreak, City of Northern Lights would have federal agents storming the town.

Oliver started brewing coffee. He didn’t drink it. He knew Meghan functioned better when she had a few cups to clear her head. Oliver knew after the pissing match between her and Dana, Meghan wasn’t going home again until after they located Christine. She appreciated Oliver’s anticipation regarding the coffee and the quiet space to cool off.

Meghan dropped heavily in the office chair and switched on the laptop. A few minutes into seeing the positive responses for spreading around the Amber Alert about Christine Tuktu, Meghan heard Lester come through the front door of the department. She noted the time. From the desk in the private office, Meghan heard everything that went on in the lobby. It had a tremendous acoustical advantage that she appreciated. It gave Meghan a snapshot of complaints and a prelude to visitors. She heard Oliver and Lester mumbling. They knew Meghan had her ear to the door. She listened to the heavy boot treads across the threadbare grimy carpeting inside the situation room of the building. Lester appeared at the doorway.

He wasn’t a man who spent a lot of time leading up to the main conversation with a lot of added small talk. He looked grim with the short black hair, brown eyes, mustache, with a smattering of gray that found its way through the black in single strands. Lester sat in the chair opposite Meghan. If he had news, it came out faster than him taking his time.

“Word got out fast,” he said.

“I’m curious how much you know about the Tuktus,” Meghan asked.

Lester nodded. He got up from the chair and left the office. Meghan followed him because she realized he sensed the freshly brewed coffee. They had ceramic cups. Lester poured Meghan’s cup and then poured himself one. Oliver joined them when they sat at the giant conference table.

“I knew Clifford before he died. I used to hunt with him. Eugene works as a dockhand at the shipyard. He lived with Clifford for years before his brother died.”

“So, I’m trying to work out the relationship between Joane and Clifford. They got married at some point. They had two kids.”

“Well, they went to the magistrate and had paperwork signed. I think it was Clifford more than Joane. It seemed like they didn’t get along from the time the ink dried on the marriage certificate.”

“I am trying not to panic about Christine. I know there were about a hundred kids at the arena tonight. The Amber Alert went out about twenty minutes after I heard about it. That was thanks to Calvin. He got