Someone is killing executives in a string of Alaskan canneries. Is it natives because their food supply is being cut short? Or is there another reason, another culprit? With racial tension running high, Juneau's Sheriff Amos Darcy, a man of few words, is going to find out who it is, come hell or high water.
Deputy Sarah Lakat, a Tlingit woman, knows her job, but she wants to prove her people aren't responsible for these vicious crimes. Her family and childhood friends give her access to clues the white sheriff would never have discovered, though, and she has to realize justice must be served no matter who the murderers are.
Amos is married to his work and Sarah was badly hurt by a man in her past, yet as they work together in the investigation they grow close, facing danger and discrimination together. Can they solve the case even as they fight their attraction to each other?
Page Count: 272
Word Count: 66646
Every nerve in Amos’ body was alert with a flood of adrenaline. He hated putting Sarah in danger, but she was a deputy and a good shot, so he couldn’t tell her not to do her job. Halfway to the porch steps, the door banged open and Bobby stepped out with a double-barreled shotgun that he leveled at Amos. “And what would you like, Sheriff? I don’t remember inviting you over.”
“I have a warrant for your arrest in the killing of Mr. Thornton at the cannery. Now, we can do this easy. Just pass the shotgun to me and come along peacefully.”
“The hell I will! Get off my property!”
Amos dropped and rolled as the shotgun fired, then heard answering fire and saw Bobby fold to the porch, clutching his knee. Amos ran up the steps and grabbed the abandoned shotgun while Sarah holstered her weapon and hurried to help.
Amos leaned the shotgun against the railing and slapped the handcuffs on Bobby almost simultaneously, and then he set to work cutting the knee of Bobby’s trousers to check the wound.
Bobby yelled at Sarah at the top of his lungs. “You god-damned traitor! I'm shot by a turncoat woman who won’t defend her own kind!”
“Who’s my own kind, Bobby? A band of murderous animals who kill for what they want? No, that’s not my kind.” She picked up the shotgun and pointed it at Bobby. “I prefer to be on the law-abiding side.”
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