Polar (Book 1): Polar Night (2 page)

“Ms. Treibel’s a freelance photographer and worked the event last year too. She had this year’s celebration scheduled months ago. ”

“So there were a lot of little kiddies who couldn’t get their
picture taken on Santa’s lap?”

“Yeah. I guess it was a PR fiasco because the photos had been advertised all over the city, and they didn’t have another photographer lined up.”

“Safe to say missing this job was a big deal then.”

“A very big deal. And apparently, Ms. Triebel here has always been very reliable.”

Danny stared at the photograph of the missing woman. It had been taken outdoors, and her cheeks had the rosy glow that came with a chilly day. She had a cheerful smile and her straight blond hair fell to a clean line along her shoulders. Her face was angular, with high, prominent cheekbones and an aquiline nose. She was pretty, Danny thought, and he couldn’t help but think there was something familiar about her.

“Ms. Triebel. What’s her first name?”

“Maria.”

“You got any suspects?”

“Not yet. Except the obvious, the boyfriend. I just got the case this morning though, so I haven’t had much time to go over it.”

Danny nodded and turned his attention to the stack of folders on his desk. “Let me know if you need any help with it. I know Barkowitz is on vacation this week.”

“Yeah. Must be nice to have seniority.”

Danny laughed. “You don’t expect sympathy from me, do you? You know you’re way more than one up on me. I’ll be the low man on this totem pole forever.”

“You will be if you keep sleeping in until noon.”

“Don’t you worry about my sleeping habits. You need to concentrate on finding Ms. Triebel.”

Tessa stared at the photograph. “What do you think are the odds she’s still alive?”

“Not great. But then, you never know. She might have wanted to disappear.”

“No better place to do that than here.”

“Those were my thoughts exactly when I came to your fair state.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you told folks back in Chicago where you were going.”

Danny shook his head. “Tessa, sweetheart, I didn’t have anyone to tell.”

“That’s a sad story.”

“Y
ou don’t know the half of it.”

“You’ll have to tell me over a few beers sometime. I know getting you drunk is the only way I’ll ever get you to talk.”

“It’d take a hell of a lot more than a few beers.”

“A keg, then.”

“That’s more like it.”

Tessa laughed and reached for her coat from the back of her chair. “Alright, I better leave you to your work, and get back to mine. I need to go pay a visit to Ms. Triebel’s boyfriend. A Mr. Nate Clancy.”

“An Irish guy like me,” Danny said.

“I guess so.”

“With the name Clancy, I know so. I should go with you. See if he’s from the old country. We could swap stories.”

“You are so full of shit. I bet you’ve never set foot in Ireland.”

Danny laughed. “True. But parts of Chicago are close enough, trust me.”

“I can believe that. Your part anyway. A bunch of drunk Irish fools.”

Danny chuckled again. “Didn’t you say you were gonna let me get back to my work?”

“Yeah, I did.” Tessa walked towards the front door. “See you later.”

Danny turned back to his desk and started to page through the records of the case he had been going through the day before, but his eyes were drawn back to the photo of Maria Triebel. It was hard to imagine the pretty, smiling woman in the photograph choosing to disappear. But then, there was a time when those he knew would have said the same about him.

“Are you still with us, Ms. Triebel?” he whispered.

He stared at the photo, wondering why Maria Triebel seemed somehow familiar to him. Had he known someone who looked like her back in Chicago? He didn’t think so. Suddenly, his mind flashed to a case he had looked at a few days before.

He booted up his computer, and impatiently brought up his files. He had been working on a case that had just passed its three year anniversary. The victim’s family had refused to give up no matter how many years went by, and had been in touch with the department on a fairly regular basis.

Danny clicked on the name of Anna Alexander. A blond, smiling young woman who had disappeared from the campus of the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, three years ago this week.

It was clear now why Maria Triebel had struck a chord with him. She and Anna didn’t look exactly alike, but there were enough similarities that it would have been easy to mistake them for sisters. Or at least cousins. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise up and a prickle of energy he hadn’t felt in nearly a year. His gut told him there was a connection between these two women. He could feel it.

Danny scrolled through the details of Anna Alexander’s case. She had last been seen on December 21, 2009. The winter solstice. He heard Tessa’s voice in his mind. “She was supposed to be taking Santa photos at the winter solstice celebration…”

Danny’s energy went from a prickle to a straight out deluge.

Chapter 2

Maria Triebel rested her head
against the chilly dirt wall behind her and hugged her knees to her chest in a futile attempt to stop trembling. She took slow, deep breaths in order to keep from hyperventilating, and forced herself to quit crying. She needed to think, and using all her energy crying wasn’t going to help anything. Unfortunately, she had no idea what was going to help.

The place she was sitting in was so dark she was unable to see her own hands when she held them up to her face. She had felt around on the floor and walls around her, but had found nothing but hard, cold dirt. She had no idea how long she’d been here, or, for that matter, where “here” was. She remembered leaving the clothing store and heading towards her car, and bumping into a tall blond man as she turned into her row in the lot. He seemed familiar, and he had leaned towards her as if he wanted to ask a question, and then everything had gone dark.

The next thing she remembered was opening her eyes in this pitch black, deathly silent room. She had filled the silence with her screams until her throat was raw and too parched to scream further. No one had come to her aid.

Now, she tried to think logically. Even if she couldn’t remember it, someone had put her in this place. So if there was a way in, there had to be a way out. She needed to stand up and find it. Even if she couldn’t see, she could feel.

She stood up slowly, never lifting her back from the wall. She turned around, and put a shaking hand against the hard dirt. She’d just take it a step at a time, feeling the wall until she found the door. It had to be there.

She took two steps, and screamed when she heard a door open across the room. She turned towards the sound, still unable to see, and froze. She wanted to keep absolutely still, but her chattering teeth and trembling body betrayed her.

A light in the form of a lantern came into the room, and Maria could see it was held by the long fingers of an unusually tall man. A blond man. The man from the parking lot.

Maria screamed again.

He walked down stairs so steep they were more like a ladder and entered the room, carrying the lantern with him. He set the lantern down on the floor, illuminating the room, and leaned against the dirt wall opposite Maria. He put his hands in his pockets.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said.

Maria opened her mouth to respond, but found herself unable to speak.

“I want you to enjoy your time here.”

Maria stared at him, incredulous at the sincerity in his voice. Her fear started to be replaced by anger.

“Who the hell are you?” she said, her voice raspy and weak. “I saw you in the parking lot…”

“That’s right.”

“What do you want with me? Where am I?”

“In a root cellar next to my home. And you’re my guest for the next few months.”

“The next few months? Are you fucking nuts?”

A disapproving scowl crossed the man’s face. “I don’t allow that kind of language in my home. I expect my guests to have manners.”

“I’m not your guest, asshole. Fuck you.”

Before Maria had time to think, the man was across the room and his hand was around Maria’s neck. Her eyes widened as his face came within a centimeter of her own.

“I said, I don’t allow that language in my home,” he said, spitting out the words. “Do you understand?”

Maria nodded.

“Answer me!”

“Yes,” Maria whispered. “I understand.”

The man relaxed his grip, and seemed to almost fly back to the other side of the cellar. He was seated next to the lantern again before Maria could put her own hand to her now aching throat. She slid down the dirt, which felt as hard as stone, and sat back down on the cold floor.

He bent his knee and leaned back against the wall. For the first time, Maria noticed his feet were bare. He seemed oblivious to the cold temperature.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” he said, his voice once again calm, “we can go back to discussing your stay here with me.” He seemed to notice Maria’s trembling for the first time. “Are you cold?”

She started to nod, then remembered his rage. “Yes,” she said.

“Fine,” he said. “I have warm clothes for you in my house. I imagine you must be hungry as well.”

Maria was sure she’d vomit if she tried to eat. But her throat ached. “I’m thirsty,” she said.

“Of course. I’ll bring you some water. Do you like coffee?”

For the first time, Maria noticed his accent. It was slight, but sounded Eastern European. Or maybe Russian? “I do, yes,” she said.

“Very well, then. We just need to finish discussing your stay, then I’ll get you what you need.”

“How about you tell me who you are?” Maria asked.

“I’m Aleksei.”

“What do you want with me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. First, I have some ground rules for you.”

“Ground rules?”

“Yes. For one, your name.”

“What about my name?”

“I know you consider your name to be Maria Triebel. You live in Fairbanks and you work as a photographer. Your boyfriend is Nate Clancy.”

Maria stared at him, her eyes again widening.

“But from now on, Maria Triebel no longer exists.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You're not Maria Triebel. Your name is Natasha Koslova.”

“I don't understand.”

“I think I'm making myself very clear. There's nothing for you to understand, Natasha.”

Maria shook her head and clenched her fists, trying her best to keep her voice calm. “Listen, I don't know who this Natasha is, but I'm not...”

“No, buts, Natasha.”

“Stop calling me Natasha! What the hell is wrong with you?”

A cloud passed over Aleksei’s face, leaving behind a scowl
. “Do I need to remind you about your language?”

Maria swallowed hard. She could still feel his hands on her neck. “No. Sorry. Why are you calling me Natasha?”

“Because that's who you are. While you're here with me, anyway. I'll make everything perfect for you.”

“Perfect? You kidnap me and bring me God knows where, lock me up in this pitch black cellar... That's perfect?”

“No, not yet. But it will be perfect for Natasha.”

“So that's the deal? I pretend my name is Natasha and I get out of this…what did you call it?”

“A root cellar.”

“What is that? Some kind of basement?”

“It’s basically just a large hole in the ground.”

“I'm assuming you have some nicer accommodations since you said this is your home.”

Aleksei nodded. “Definitely. But they're for Natasha, not for Maria.”

“I get it.”

“Good. You understand now?”

Maria was silent.

“I bet I can guess what you're thinking,” Aleksei said, a smirk creeping into his voice. “You're thinking, how dumb is this guy?”

Maria noticed the smirk, and tried to swallow her fear. “What do you mean? I don't think you're dumb.”

“You're thinking, I'll play along, I'll be Natasha, and I'll make myself comfortable up in his house. Then the first chance I get, I'll run out the front door.”

“I wasn't thinking that.”

“Don't lie to me.”

Maria stiffened her shoulders. “What if I was?”

Aleksei stared at her without responding.

“What would stop me from doing exactly what you said?” Maria asked.

“I would stop you.”

She glanced down the length of his body looking for weapons, but saw none. “You know I'm not some pushover, right? I'm an athlete. I do cross-country skiing, I run in the summer. I don't know how you knocked me out to get me here, but I can fight you.”

“No, you can't.”

“You're so sure of that?”

“Completely. You may very well be an athlete. But I can assure you I'm a better one.” Aleksei stood up and walked up the steep stairs. “I'll prove it to you.”

He opened the door and let it hang open. Seeing nothing but snow outside the door, Maria shuddered. She really was in a hole in the ground.

“What's the trick?” she asked.

“No trick,” Aleksei said. “I just intend to show you that you're wasting your time if you're plotting to run away from me.”

He walked across the room, positioning himself so that Maria was between him and the wide open door.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Give it your best shot.”

Maria stared at the door, hesitant. She knew there had to be some kind of catch. But what did she have to lose? She knew how fast she could run. She took a deep breath, and sprinted towards the stairs.

In a whoosh, Aleksei was in front of her, blocking the door and filling it with his tall frame. He grinned. “Want to try again?” he asked.

“How did you...”

Maria couldn't finish, as Aleksei once again had his hands around her neck. He pushed her back across the room and shoved her against the wall with a speed that left her disoriented. She clawed at his hands and tried to break his grip, but it was like grasping a brick wall. He lifted her off the floor, and tossed her to the corner of the room, where her head hit the floor with a thud. She tried to lift herself up with her arms, but found Aleksei standing over her. He put his foot on her back and pushed her to the floor.

“Have I made my point?” he asked.

Maria tried to answer, but was unable to find her voice.

“I'll assume I have,” Aleksei said. “I'll leave you here to think about my rules.”

Maria knew he was moving back to the door, now walking at a normal speed. She needed to stop him, as she couldn't bear the dark again, but she couldn't make herself react. The glow of the lantern bounced off the walls and circled the room as he picked it up. The light disappeared, and Aleksei closed the door behind him. Maria heard him bolt the locks of the door into place, and was left with nothing but absolute silence.

She tried again to raise herself up. She knew where the stairs were now, she'd go to them and find a way to unlock the door. Her arms failed her once more, and she had a split-second to be grateful for the loss of consciousness as her head hit the hard dirt floor.