“I think you should go back to North Carolina before we all end up regretting this,” Thorin said.

“I can handle myself,” I said. “I’m not a child.”

“Then I hope you have the sense not to act like one.”

Going downstairs to trash his storage room and undo all my hard work would make for satisfying retaliation, but it would only serve to prove his point. So, instead, I scowled and harrumphed. “A child is not allowed to think for herself. I make my own choices, and I’ll live with the consequences if I make the wrong ones.”

“The wrong ones might mean another death, Miss Mundy. And it’s not only your life you’re putting at stake.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, but Thorin clamped his mouth his shut and looked away, refusing to answer. I huffed again. Tell me I’m in danger, but don’t give me any details—how is that supposed to help anyone? “Now who’s being childish?” I muttered.

Val put an arm around my shoulder and guided me toward the door. “Let’s go, Solina. It’s late, and I’m tired.”

Thorin stepped forward and raised a hand to stop us. “After you go through your things and see what needs replacing, you can take what you need from the store, if we have it.”

My mouth fell open. “That’s very generous of you, but I couldn’t—”

Thorin interrupted me. “Take it as payment for your work in the stockroom.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Val and I left Thorin standing in the kitchen. Val didn’t let go of me until we reached the 4-Runner. “I’m not joking around,” he said. “You should know I’m willing to throw you in my Jeep, if necessary, to keep you from running.”

“I won’t run. I’m tired—I want to go to sleep.” And I’m more than a little scared. My ire had fizzled out. A wise woman would welcome the protection of a brawny dude and his two roommates, who were also nothing to sneeze at. Men who made a living conquering the wilds of Alaska probably laughed at the idea of a mundane intruder. Humph. Mundane. Only if I’m lucky.

Perhaps I should have questioned both Val’s willingness to help me and Thorin’s unexpected involvement. But a general theory about their motives had already formed in my mind. Val may have legitimately cared enough for me to put himself in harm’s way on my behalf, but there was more to it. He and Thorin knew a lot more than they wanted to admit, and keeping me close and safe must have profited them in some way beyond the simple warm fuzzies they got from aiding a damsel in distress.

They knew something about Mani’s murder and who was after me now. They knew something, and by God, I intended to know it, too. Keep your friends close, and your closed-mouth, secretive, and interfering friends even closer.

Chapter Eleven

In the morning I called to check on Nisha. She had seen my door, or the lack thereof, when she came home after bartending. By then the police had already come, put up the crime scene tape, and left. Call waiting beeped in as I listened to Nisha talk about the neighborhood chatter. Caller ID showed an unfamiliar number, so I let the call go to voicemail.

“So, no one heard anything—saw anything useful?” I said.

“No,” Nisha said. “Not really. People are freaked out after what happened to Mani. From what I can tell from the gossip, Mr. Lutz—that’s the neighbor across the hall—heard a commotion. He was the one who called the police, but he was afraid to open the door and see what was going on.” Nisha’s voice thinned to a whisper when she said, “It’s starting to seriously freak me out, too. My sister wants me to move out and come live with her. I think I’m going to take her up on her offer.”

“It might be a good idea, but I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s obvious this has to do with Mani and me.”

“Where are you going to stay, now? Aren’t you scared?”

“Yes,” I said. “I am scared, but I’m pretty determined to stay until I’ve finished my business. Mani’s friend, Val Wotan, he’s letting me stay at his place until I can find something else.”

“Oh, Val, I’ve met him. He’s nice.” Nisha’s tone implied she wasn’t merely talking about his personality. “Are you two…?” She waited for me to finish her sentence.

Since I didn’t know the answer myself, I ignored her bait. “Hey, Nisha, random question for you.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding uncertain.

“You ever hear of Adam Skoll or Harold Hati?”

“No, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“Their names came up in passing, and since Siqiniq is a small town, I thought you might know them.”

“Do you think they know something about—”

“No.” I cut her off, guessing the destination of her train of thought. Nisha needed to stay clean and innocent of this whole affair and not endanger herself by playing Watson to my totally inept Sherlock. “I don’t think anything. I just want to talk to anyone who might have talked to my brother before he died. Harold Hati worked for Aleksander Thorin, and he’s the only one I haven’t been able to get in touch with.”

“Take it as a sign. It’s probably best if you leave it to the police.”

“Where does your sister live?” I asked, switching, I hoped, to a neutral topic.

“In Anchorage.”

“That far? What about your job?”

Nisha snorted loud enough to carry over the phone. “I’m a waitress. Like I can’t find a hundred jobs just like it.”

After we ended the call, I dialed voicemail and discovered Detective Vanderleigh had left me a message. He wanted to talk about the break-in. I called him, and we agreed to meet at Mani’s apartment in an hour. Val shuffled into the living room as I hung up. He plopped onto the sofa next to me, still half asleep. His hair was rumpled, his eyes still drowsy, and – Lord help me – he wore boxers and nothing else. Something inside me jumped and stood at attention.

“Any grand plans for today?” Val asked.

“The detective wants to meet with me at Mani’s apartment in a little bit.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“You don’t have to work?”

“I’ve got the day off.” Val yawned, stretched, and then scratched his stomach, and by stomach I mean rock-hard, six-pack abs. He knew what he was doing, coming out here like this, all warm and frowzy and half naked. “I’m hungry.” He grinned and batted his lashes at me. Cinnamon-colored lashes that framed a stunning pair of sapphire eyes. “Go in the kitchen and cook me some breakfast, woman.”

“I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“But you’re Little Miss Betty Crocker. The kitchen is your natural domain.”

“I’m going to pretend you did not just say that.”

Val grinned again and shifted, stretching out, long legs dangling over the couch’s low arm. He put his head in my lap. Unable to resist, I twined my fingers through the soft waves of his hair. Val’s eyes rolled back in his head, and I could have sworn he purred. My heart did a funny little dance. Aw crap, I thought. I’m in so much trouble. “I’m on sabbatical,” I said, “which means the kitchen is closed.”

“But I’m going to waste away.”

I circled my fingers around one of Val’s well-formed biceps. “I think you’ve got plenty to spare.”

Val flexed his arm and grinned when I exhaled an appreciative sigh. I pinched his shoulder. “Show-off.”

He snatched my fingers before I pulled away. He tugged my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Are you going to hang out with me today?”

“Well…”