“And you know who is pulling their strings?”
“I can make some educated guesses.”
“And these educated guesses are who we are on our way to see?”
“One of them.”
“How do you know this person?”
“Helen Locke and I have been acquaintances for some time. She is the head of Nastrond Corp, and through it she owns businesses all over the world, most of them specializing in the commerce of human vice. In that capacity she takes great care to stay connected and informed in both the legal and the more… illicit circles of business and society.”
I blinked several times and tried to process the information, particularly the commerce of human vice part. “What’s she doing in Juneau, of all places? I never knew it to be a breeding ground for seedy activity.”
“You ever hear of Percy Gruen?”
I shook my head. “Can’t say I have.”
“He’s a big shot in the world of professional poker, originally from Juneau. He won the World Series a few times when he was younger. Now he’s a businessman. He got together with Alaska’s Bureau of Travel and Tourism and proposed a plan to build an attraction in Las Vegas promoting tourism in Alaska. Helen Locke is interested from an investment standpoint and has brought a contingency from Nevada to discuss the proposition.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Helen Locke is not the only one interested in investments and staying well connected.”
“I think I may be in over my head.”
A look of smugness stole across Thorin’s face. “Indeed.”
I poured out the remaining hot water and cleaned our dishes. Thorin gave me a quick boat tour, which included a visit to a stateroom that accommodated a king-sized bed. Then he led me to a smaller closet-sized space that managed to contain a double. “This will be your room,” he said, motioning to the closet.
Before Thorin turned to leave, I threw out one more question. “What is the name of your boat?”
“Mjölnir?” He pronounced the word sort of like, me-yul-near. Not a phonetic combination common to the English language.
“What does it mean?”
Thorin paused in the tight hallway; the cramped walls and ceilings emphasized his height and the breadth of his shoulders. “Look it up,” he said and jogged the steps to the helm.
I settled onto the bed, grateful for the efficient heating system and the flat-screen television offering satellite connection to the Internet. I pressed buttons on the television and the remote-control keyboard until I figured out how to turn things on and fire up the satellite. A quick search on Google and I had all the results about Mjölnir I could ever want, both academic and fantastic—comic books, video games, Nordic-themed role-playing games.
According to the Prose Edda, a source previously mentioned by Skyla, Thor’s hammer was an unbelievable weapon that would always hit as hard as he needed, never miss its target, and never fly so far away that it couldn’t find its way back to him. He could also reduce its size to fit in his pocket.
Handy.
I wondered if naming his boat after the mythical weapon meant Thorin had a god complex after all. Then there was Val and his connection to Odin, or Wotan, or whoever. Val and Thorin had history, the ancient type, I was certain.
The display on my phone showed it detected no cell signal, so calling Skyla was impossible. I used the Internet again to find the website for Thorin’s store and discovered her e-mail address on the “Contact Us” page. Before I turned out the lights and called it a night, I shot her a quick note to tell her about my disappearance, promised to call when we arrived in Juneau, and warned her to stay out of Val’s way if he went on a rampage when he discovered my absence.
Chapter Eighteen
I woke to sunlight streaming into the sleeping berth’s tiny oval window and Thorin shaking my shoulder. “Wake up, Sunshine.”
I rose to one elbow and rubbed my eyes. “Why do you have to say it like that?”
Thorin arched an eyebrow. “Say what like what?”
“Why do you call me Sunshine like it’s an insult?”
“Oh, I’m sure I could think of more insulting things to call you, if you’d rather.”
Point made. I changed the subject. “Are we there?”
“Been there,” Thorin said. “I let you sleep most of the morning, but we’ve got to go into town.”
“M’kay,” I said after a jaw-popping yawn. “Give me a sec to freshen up?”
Thorin nodded. “I’ll meet you up top.”
In the bathroom, I brushed out my hair and twisted it back into a messy knot. I ran a toothbrush over my teeth and washed my face. Thorin left coffee on the counter for me in a disposable cup. Its fragrance greeted me when I came into the galley. I snatched it and met Thorin on the dock of a marina facing downtown Juneau. “What’s the plan?” I asked.
“We’ve got to find you something appropriate to wear. We’re on the guest list for dinner tonight.”
Something about the way he said it disturbed me. “Dinner?”
“An affair worthy of seducing Helen Locke out of some of her extensive funds.”
I followed Thorin to the marina exit. “How’d we get on the guest list?”
Thorin shrugged a shoulder. “I told you. I’m an investor.”
