Page 119 of Backtrack

Cutter cocked his head, interested. “Boats?”

“Slave boats,” Polina said. “Like floating …” She smacked herself in the forehead with an open palm. “It’s late and I can’t remember the word … where women are sold.”

“A brothel?” Lola said. “Where women sell sex.”

“Of a sort,” Polina said. “But in Roxie’s story, these women aren’t selling anything. On these boats, they are the product.”

CHAPTER 53

Cutter continued to carve on the new chunk of cedar after Polina left. It had become crystal clear to him while the Ukrainian woman explained the Russian Oprichniki that a knot in the wood was in exactly the right location to form a whippoorwill’s wide eye and huge insect-eating mouth. Grumpy always had a thing for whippoorwills. Neither Cutter nor his brother were ever sure if the old man loved the night birds or hated them, but a whippoorwill never called that Grumpy didn’t hush the boys and urge them to listen.

Lola stood with her back against the cabin door, resting both hands on top of her head, eyes shut tight enough to wrinkle her nose.

Cutter had seen her perplexed look before and knew it was best not to interrupt her. Instead, he let the quiet settle over the cabin, focusing on the tip of the little Wharncliffe blade where it met the piece of cedar. The silence wouldn’t last long. Lola was like a shaken soda bottle with ideas just waiting to bubble out.

“I want to go to Ketchikan,” she said.

Cutter didn’t look up.

“Good idea,” he said. “We still have the two warrants we didn’t work yesterday.”

“I want to go now.”

Cutter chuckled. “I know.”

“How about I fly back from Juneau?” She bounced her bum off the door and walked to the couch, careful not to bump him and make him cut himself when she sat down. “I’ll take annual leave.”

Cutter flicked the back of the knife blade against his thigh to shut it.

“Lola, I’m agreeing with you. We need to go to Ketchikan. No need to go on your own dime. Fact is, we should look at everything again in light of this new information.”

She gave a swift nod. “You’re right. This is big.”

“And we need to pass this information on to the Bureau.”

“Way to ruin it, Boss. Up until an hour ago, I was keen to enjoy the cruise—Abraham Malosi’s murder and your snooty ex-wife notwithstanding. I mean, heaps of tasty protein and those choice little towel animals on my bed every day … Now I reckon I can’t get off this tub fast enough. You think the chief would try for a special task force considering this new info?”

“I’m sure she’ll bring it up with the SAC.” Cutter pronounced the acronym for the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI field officesack. Bureau bosses generally preferred each letter be pronounced individually—S-A-I-C. Cutter had no time for that. He was pretty sure the acting assistant special agent in charge—an FBI supervisor named Beason—called Cutter a sack of something behind his back all the time.

Lola groaned. “I’d work with the devil himself as long as we catch the bastards branding these women.”

“Good to …”

Cutter’s voice trailed off as he watched Joellen’s cabin door open on the video monitor.

Lola followed his gaze.

“What an egg!” she said. “We’ve got Malosi’s killer running loose and all the ship’s cameras but the one on her door are inoperable. Didn’t you tell her to stay put?”

“Yep,” Cutter said.

They watched the screen as Joellen shut her door behind her and stopped to talk with the security officer Ajit had stationed outside her room. She carried a pillow under her arm and wore a gauzy robe that looked like it was meant for entertaining more than covering a nightgown. There was no sound, but it was easy to figure out what was being said. The security officer did a lot of nodding while Joellen talked. A moment later, she left the camera’sfield of view, followed by the security officer, who had a phone to his ear.

Ajit telephoned a few seconds before there was a knock at the door, confirming what Cutter and Lola already guessed. Joellen wasn’t going to stay in her room alone.

Cutter stood, but Lola shook her head.

“Look,” she said. “I don’t care if she sleeps on the couch, but Boss, you gotta draw the line with this chivalry horseshit. Go on in your room and call Mim before she goes to bed. You’re always so giddy when you two talk. It’ll be good for your ex to hear you so happy.”