Below her, the lights of Anchorage lit the homes and businesses surrounded by spruce and birch trees. The lights sparkled westward until they dropped into the silver waters of Cook Inlet. Anchorage gained daylight in hunks as break up preceded spring. Soon, dirty snow would vanish, the mud would firm, and another short Alaska spring would be on them.
Lillian Raven stood to one side of the table as she combed out her braid. The new case was going to be a hard one. Her client’s husband was a minor crook who reported to a mover and shaker in Alaska. The boss kept his hands clean most of the time, but Lily understood he dipped his fingers in slightly dirty pies now and again.
Hearsay meant nothing. If Curtis Hoyton had ties to any of the major criminals in the state, she couldn’t prove it. Nor did she have evidence of a link between Skoglund and Hoyton.
To the best of Lily Raven’s knowledge, Curtis Hoyton dealt in real estate, pricey real estate. She had represented him in five very expensive, involved land deals. Not one hint of anything illegal turned up when she checked the man out the first time he approached her. LRB Law could pick its clients and worked for Hoyton by choice. He paid well and on time. Never once had he acted other than a gentleman.
Hoyton, for all the whispered tales, appeared squeaky clean on paper. Rumors floated around Alaska like icebergs in Glacier Bay. If Hattie Skoglund had it right though, her husband worked for the big man.
She doubted Hoyton had anything to do with Skoglund’s personal life. Did the man even know a wife beater, an abuser, worked for him? Merc Westin, Hoyton’s second in command, might be his handler. Or Skoglund’s direct superior could be down the line.
Regardless, she would take the woman’s case. By Sunday evening, Hattie and Linda Skoglund would be safe. She couldn’t get them out of Alaska immediately. Skoglund would watch the airports. They couldn’t drive out because he held their passports.
Not knowing his reach, it would be best to keep them under wraps until she could get them to Homer. Even Whittier was too close. When the tourist season started, Alaska’s Marine Highway summer schedule would allow them to get the woman and her child out. They would be on the first ferry to Bellingham, Washington.
A month. That’s all they needed.
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