Page 47 of Thunder Pass

“Enough to know that huge sums of money were involved.”

“How huge?” Gunnar asked.

“Millions. Many millions. Much of it came from offshore banking accounts that were nearly untraceable. It would have taken me weeks to track down the source, and I never managed it.”

Gunnar exchanged a glance with Ruth. So much for “evil money leeches.” Luke was nothing if not a hypocrite.

But maybe he hadn’t made the purchase himself. “Did you find out anything about Luke Chilkoot?”

“Who?”

“My father,” Ruth said. “Luke Chilkoot. LLC.”

“Ohh.” Recognition dawned on her face. “Chilkoot LLC bought the property. Not an individual. Chilkoot LLC is a business entity.”

“What business?” Ruth asked, looking bewildered.

Renata stood up and went around her desk to access her computer. “Let me look it up. It’s been a while, so I don’t remember off the top of my head.” After a few keystrokes, she murmured, “that’s weird.”

“What? What’s weird?” Both he and Ruth were on the edge of their seats; he backed up so they wouldn’t topple the couch.

“There’s no record of a Chilkoot LLC. It no longer exists. And according to this, it never did. But that’s impossible. You saw it too, right?”

“Yes, it was in the property purchase record. Ben Whistler looked it up.”

“Hang on a minute.” She sat down and did some more clicking of keys. “Wow. Maybe it was there before, but it’s gone now. According to this, the name Chilkoot doesn’t appear in any property purchase. Do you know the plat number?”

“Yes. He wrote it down for us.” Ruth pulled the Post-It from her pocket and handed it to Renata. “Along with your name,” she explained.

Renata punched in the plat number. “Well, according to this, that property is owned by B.K. Off.”

“Who’s that?” Ruth asked in confusion, while Gunnar sounded out the letters.

“Back off?”

“That’s what I hear.” She closed out her search and set her elbows on her desk. “You might want to follow that advice. You’re dealing with someone who can access state databases and alter them. That’s serious business. Backing off might be your best option.”

23

They left Renata McBurney’s office in a daze—or at least Ruth did. Gunnar seemed to be on a mission. He practically ran to the truck and turned on the ignition before Ruth had even closed the door.

“What are we doing? Where are we going? What should we do? Are we backing off?”

“First things first. I’m getting a phone.”

They drove to the Anchorage mall, where Gunnar made what was probably the quickest purchase of a smartphone and a phone plan the salesperson had ever witnessed. She showed him how to access the Internet on it, and a few moments later they were back in the truck and he was punching keys like a madman.

“I’m tired of relying on other people for information,” he explained as he downloaded app after app.

“Don’t you think we should go home?” She glanced nervously at the pedestrians passing their truck, which was parked on a busy street right outside the mall. “It seems like someone was sending us a message, don’t you think? Back off?”

“Yes. I do think that. But I don’t like mysterious messages bossing me around.” He looked angry, a feeling she understood, but didn’t share. She was too busy feeling scared to get angry. “Okay, my translation app is in. Say that stuff again, the language you overheard Luke speaking.”

“Oh lord, Gunnar, I don’t even know if I’m remembering it accurately. We can’t rely on that!”

“I’m not relying on it, I’m just curious. Maybe it’ll tell us something. Maybe it won’t, but it won’t hurt to try, will it?”

She couldn’t think of a reason why it would, so she summoned the memory of that time so long ago—maybe fifteen years ago—when she’d hovered like a mouse outside the kitchen entrance, the planks of the wall cool against her face, anxiety in her belly.

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