Chapter 2: Clueless

As morning came Darla awoke to a relatively toasty 52 degrees inside the cabin. Checking the fire, she added a new log to the smoldering coals and more newspaper to get it burning. Through the easterly facing window, she could see that it would be daylight soon, meaning that it was probably around 8:00. The days were getting longer, and that increased the possibility of someone coming to rescue her.

She had a headache from the previous day's exposure to the ether, but how long had that kept her out, as opposed to just her normal sleep cycle added to it? Again she looked about the cabin, and this time found a jar with some oatmeal mix in it, and more tea bags in another. Her clothes had dried over night, and she left the sleeping bag to put on her uniform.

Still, they were work clothes, and not outdoor wear to fend off the sixteen-degree weather. Finding a pencil and paper, Darla left a note to the owner of the cabin promising to replace what she had used, and in case someone came looking for her. Then she tore that information off, and tossed it into the fire. At the moment, Darla didn't know if Colleen had missed her and reported her absence. Tim would surely think she had stood him up.

After the string of insensitive jerks she had been attracted to since coming to Anchorage, the young Alaska State Trooper was the first that treated her with any degree of respect as a person, and not just a warm female body to satisfy themselves with. Now ASP Sgt. Tim Sealy stood before the District Commandant's desk being chastised by both he, and his supervisor, Captain John Clark of the CIB. Darla was not yet a missing person, and he did not have any authority to bring her car in to the Crime Lab.

Yet he was certain that Darla would not object. He argued that her roommate had spoken to him the day before, and that she was indeed unaccounted for. Sellers argued that her report could not be filed for yet another 18 hours. Sealy was adamant that Darla was the victim of an abduction, because she was very careful.

"Sir," he pleaded, "I know the woman and she would not have gone with anyone that she didn't know was safe."

"Then she is probably with an old boyfriend," Clark argued, "and will turn up in a few hours. Wise up Sergeant. We have enough to do with the woman that we found in Campbell Creek. We have a known murderer on the loose, and we just don't have the resources to tie up to check up on your girlfriend. Now you have an extended shift today to make up for lost time yesterday. I suggest that you concentrate on known crimes, and until we have evidence that Darlene Raymond has been abducted, leave it alone."

"That's Darla Reynolds, Sir," Tim replied.

"Dismissed, Sergeant," the Commandant barked. "You will be riding with Lt. Conway today. There are some leads out at Girdwood concerning a gray 1997 Buick seen near where our body was dumped."

Tim walked out of the office, thankful that he hadn't gotten anything more than a good butt chewing, but the fact that Sellers was involved didn't help his next performance review. He met Jim Conway and went to their vehicle to meet a man in Girdwood that had seen a man getting into a gray Buick near where the woman's body was dumped.

"Darn, Tim," Conway said, as they began the drive out Old Seward Highway, "I sure wish you had cleared that with me yesterday. You are sure that she didn't just catch a ride with an old boyfriend? It was pretty darn cold the other night."

"Darla would have called me or left a note," Sealy replied. "She has every other time that she was called into work. She actually was too, Lieutenant. I really think we had something going."

At the Girdwood Airport, they met Henry Tompkins, who had been behind the Buick the previous Friday, and noted the man that kept his plane near his Helio Courier at Girdwood. Not sure what he was doing, Henry circled back thinking that the man had car trouble, and he sped off. Henry related this to the two troopers with an admonition.

"If you had come yesterday," said Henry, "he would have been here. He was loading something big and white into the back of his plane and was gone about two hours. I got his license plates if it helps."

"Which plane is his?" asked Conway. "I'll get a search warrant for it and find out who owns it and the car."

"You see that old Cessna tail dragger on skis?" asked Henry. "I don't know if he owns it or not but I see him flying it about every other week or so. There is another man that flies it that lives here. He works at the Birdhouse Bar down the road. Just ask for Pete."

"Thank you, Mr. Tompkins," Tim said, shaking the man's hand and handing him his card. "Maybe this will help us find the guy. Does he live near here?"

"Nah," Henry retorted. "I don't know where he is. He is sort of a loner. I often wondered what he has that searchlight on the side of the car for though. I figured he was poaching moose or something, but I never saw him with a rifle. I'll call if he shows back up."

"We will find him," Conway assured him. "Thanks again."

"Sure," Henry acknowledged, "Anytime."

The two Troopers then went to the Birdhouse Bar to find the man known as Pete. Pete offered them a drink, and ended up having coffee with them. Pete was a partner in the Cessna 170 that the man flew the day before, and said that the guy in the 97 Buick was Jack Young, who had been a Campus Cop at the University of Alaska, Anchorage. He was supposedly to make another payment on the plane the following Friday. Young had told Pete that he was a former crop duster from Iowa, and wanted to buy a plane in Alaska and become a Bush Pilot.

"Barry Williams really doesn't want the guy in our plane and we intended to meet with him Friday," Pete explained. "Last night we went to see if he refueled it or left it empty like he usually does, and it had frozen vomit in the back floorboard. If you gentlemen need to check it out, I'll shut down for a bit and go over with you. Will that save you getting a search warrant?"

"For now," Conway said, "but if this Young guy is involved, it would be in our best interest to get one, especially if we find anything."

"Good deal," Pete replied. "If you arrest him, that saves Barry and I the trouble of giving him his money back on the partnership. I think it would anyway. If not, we were ready to buy his share back anyway."

"We'll want to talk to Mr. Williams as well," Conway added.

The three men then returned to the Girdwood Airport to look the plane over. Finding the frozen vomit, and some hairs, Conway left Tim at the plane while he called for a search warrant. Tim collected all of the hairs he found and bagged each one individually carefully noting where each was. Strangely, the hairs were of a different color and length.

He then found a broken fingernail, with the same color and sparkle that Darla had on hers. He paused, and then placed it in an evidence bag. With everything collectible, including the frozen vomit photographed, bagged and catalogued, Tim then began to collect the fingerprints. Conway took Pete's prints as a possible elimination set, just as they would Barry Williams' and Jack Young's.

The warrant arrived, and just behind the other Trooper was Jack Young, who continued on towards Portage. He was on his way to clean out the plane, and saw the ASP vehicle turn into the Airport. Thinking about his next move, he would head on down to Soldotna to ditch the car, and catch a flight back to Anchorage to clear out his apartment.

In the floorboard was Darla's purse, and if he were to be found with it, there would be questions asked that he didn't want to answer. Two hours later, he had driven the Buick down a remote road until he could go no farther, and set it on fire. He took along his handcuffs, the purse belonging to Darla, and the small clutch purse that had belonged to Yvonne Morgan, the victim from Campbell Creek they found the day before.

Hitching a ride with a truck bound for Kenai, Jack Young began to mentally make note of all he must do to cover his tracks. He had another woman staked out, but she was going to have to wait. The baggage girl however would be dead by then if she wasn't already when he left her. Using starting fluid for ether evidently proved to be toxic, and left the woman brain damaged. He would have killed her anyway. This way she just died of exposure, and with the next snowstorm could become part of the glacier.

Going to the Kenai Airport, Young figured that he was better off going by a small charter than by a commercial flight. At least then he wouldn't get his backpack checked. As he plotted his escape, he decided to find and rent a locker at the bus station in Kenai, where he would catch a ride back to Anchorage. When he noted that there was very little inspection of the luggage, Young carried the backpack onto the bus with him.

After her breakfast of oatmeal and tea, Darla found a pair of long underwear, some heavy wool socks, a scarf, a pair of leather fur-lined mittens, a fur lined hat, and a quilted flannel shirt that would help protect her from the elements. She also found an old Army blanket that she was able to cut into strips to wrap her lightweight boots with before strapping the snowshoes on.

These items she listed on the paper, and pledged to replace, after finding the owner's name on an old hunting license, and the outside of the cabin. Now outside, Darla headed in the direction that she thought would best take her to the Seward Highway, now carrying the sleeping bag with her, along with the last candle, and match, and some newspapers to put beneath her to sleep on. Carrying the can of corn would have just been too much bother for the little bit it would give her, and she planned to walk the trail until she came to a road, or the State Park. By then it was 10:00.

Following the packed snowmobile trail was easier than going through the unpacked and drifted snow, and Darla soon found a comfortable pace, pausing to rest every hour or so for about fifteen minutes. Her mind wandered to the Trooper that she prayed was looking for her, and tried to recall any details about the man she mistook for Airport Security. It the dim light, she recalled a neatly cropped beard, and a pony tail, just before her captor covered her face with the rag that caused her to pass out. Beyond that, he had to be six-feet tall and well over 200 pounds.