Alaskan Magic: Shadows of Alaska Book 1 Read online

  “Weird how?” I asked.

  “He took a quick look inside and saw handcuffs and rope. He went to open one of the doors, and it was locked.” She shrugged.

  “Kinky but not illegal,” I said.

  “When he was working on one of the cabins, the male renter got called away. He asked Joe not to go near the camper or any other valuables. Joe is the most trustworthy guy out there; he doesn’t screw over anyone. He was annoyed, so he went over and looked to see what was so valuable they couldn’t afford a bigger cabin. A bunch of women were sitting in there. He said they looked like hookers, but some didn’t even look of legal age.”

  “That’s a big thing,” I said.

  “They weren’t tied up or anything. They didn’t look beaten or like they were trying to escape.” Kim frowned.

  “Did the women see him?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “He took a quick look and ran off. I told him to call in an anonymous tip, but with caller ID and everything, nothing is that way anymore. The government can find out who did what. I drove by a couple of times, but the campers were always gone. I don’t want to get messed up in something dangerous.”

  “You’re not mixed up in anything, but you shouldn’t involve yourself more either. Don’t go back there,” I advised.

  She tucked her long black hair behind her ears, and her hands shook slightly. “Okay. I’m worried they are trafficking people. I know prostitution is a big thing in some areas of the state. Part of me doesn’t blame some of the women. Good paying work is hard to find. Good men are hard to find, too, and some areas are so rough they only have work for men, and there aren’t enough women. But if some of these girls are underage. Or if they aren’t willing...”

  I pulled a pen and a notebook out of my purse. “I understand. I want to help these women too. We need to check on things. Please write down the address.”

  Kim hesitated.

  “If I put it in my phone, there might be a record. The FBI issued my phone. Paper means I can look into it without a record until I’m sure there is probable cause to make a case out of it. It’s safer for both of us,” I said.

  She nodded and wrote the address down in big block letters, like she was trying to avoid handwriting detection. There were people who were more paranoid than I was. Once I plugged the address into my work computer, there would be a trail, but Kim didn’t need to be involved.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “If it’s real, help those women.” She nodded.

  “We will and gather evidence the right way so we can put the bad guys in jail.” I handed over a card. “If you need anything else, contact me.”

  “You’re not going to tell me to just go to the police?” she asked.

  “Kidnapping is a Bureau matter. We can’t know that those women weren’t forcibly taken then drugged or threatened to keep them in line. There is the potential that they were smuggled from outside of the state which also means it’s FBI, not PD. Please let us handle it. We work with the local PD and state troopers all the time as needed,” I assured her.

  “Thank you. Oh, please don’t talk to my husband. He’d freak out if he found out I came to you,” she said.

  “I promise to avoid it if I can. We may need his testimony, but I’ll leave your name out of it. Anonymous tip. Since he’s worked there for more than one year, he’d be a witness we’d interview as a matter of routine.” I smiled.

  “Thank you. I have to get back to work.” She slid from the booth.

  “Thank you. Have a good day.” I collected my things and put down a tip for the breakfast. Normally I felt light and happy after breakfast with Zelda. Now I felt like I had a side job. It could be nothing, or it could be a big sex trafficking ring.

  But Joe told his wife the women looked content and safe. But how would that many women jammed into a camper be content? It didn’t track.

  What if the men running the ring had the women under some spell so they didn’t rebel or try to run? This was why I joined the FBI. Paras got away with so much damage to humans, and I had to stop whatever I could.

  Chapter Two

  Pretending to be a human made my life harder in many ways. I had to do a lot of things the hard way whenever people were looking. The alternative was more dangerous.

  Sitting through the daily briefing, I listened for cases which gave me a magical tingle, but none did. I scanned the room, feeling for any other magicals in hiding. It was habit. You were either born to a group of paras who trained and protected you, or you were sort of on your own—a hybrid or a straggler who didn’t belong to anyone.

  If you were partly magical—and not part of a clan who stuck together but one who blended in with humans more—then sometimes you were a target. Some groups weren’t above kidnapping a weaker solo witch or whatever and keeping them prisoner for fun, for testing of their powers, for secrets, for trade, or whatever else amused them.

  Then there were the dark ones who captured weaker magical beings and sold them to the highest bidder. I wasn’t always weak, but I glitched. From a young age, I’d been warned about my vulnerability. The authority and badge I held in the human world were a bit of protection, even in the magical.

  The FBI would come looking for a missing agent. Magical leaders could deflect and mess with memories, but there were consequences to it. Plus messing with the FBI records and so on—it would be a mess. Muddling history was a last resort. Paras could kill a bunch of humans, but more would show up asking questions. They were a pesky group, even in Alaska where you could drive for a day and not see another town.

  Kim wasn’t a dark one or even a tiny bit magical. It’d been my initial fear when she was staring at me in the diner. Now I wanted to help her and the women she feared were being kidnapped. I pulled out the slip of paper and felt the tingle. I should report the anonymous tip and get it on the case load.

  The head of Violent Crimes Division handed out assignments, and we were just on a routine check to follow up on some tips. Something told me not to bring up the case now. Not until we’d done some basic surveillance.

  My partner, Mitch, was human and a lifelong Alaskan, so he was oddly chill. Bears, avalanches, and crazy death stories—nothing shocked him.

  I wanted to tell him the truth about me, but it’d be a dumb move. He wouldn’t turn me in, but he’d sure have a lot of questions I didn’t want to answer. It’d also expose him to a world that he couldn’t fight.

  Most of all, he had a wife and kids who wanted him to come home. He was wonderful at fighting human criminals, but I did my best to keep him safe when we had a magically connected problem.

  The only other agent who’d been a confirmed para and knew about me left a couple years back. There were some like Zelda who were weak witches, too many in her family married humans, and passed for human. Paras looked out for each other, but most of them were in support roles. I was the only Special Agent in our field office.

  “You okay?” Mitch asked.

  I looked up. The meeting was over.

  “Sure. Just need another jolt of coffee. A concerned citizen wanted to talk at the diner today, so I’m low on caffeine,” I replied.

  Mitch sighed. “A bureau matter? Most people want to run to the FBI when they should just go to the local police.”

  “Some people don’t trust the police,” I replied.

  “It’s Alaska...not L.A.” Mitch led the way to the break room. We loaded up on coffee and we headed to our shared office in the corner of the Violent Crimes Division. The pics of Mitch’s kids made me smile. The newest one was of his daughter and son on summer break when they’d caught a bunch of fish.

  “It’s a bureau matter, but I’d like to check it out at lunch before we file a report or anything official,” I said.

  Mitch slumped into his chair. He was in good shape for pushing forty but a bit thin in the hair department. I probably had contributed to that and the grayness.

  “Dot,” he said.

  He wasn’t wron
g. In Alaska, people tended to trust each other more. They trusted you to help when needed, like being broken down on the road. But they also trusted people to stay out of other’s business if it wasn’t hurting anyone. Alaska residents wanted to do their thing and be left alone.

  That could make our job a lot harder at times.

  “It’s a potential kidnapping,” I said.

  Mitch leaned back. “They didn’t call the police immediately? People go missing. She should file a report.”

  “If it was that simple, that’s what I would’ve told her, and you know it. It’s second hand info. Her hubby saw something at work. She tried to follow up. It feels like a prostitution ring with some of the women potentially under age.”

  “Sex trafficking? That could be huge.” Mitch frowned.

  I nodded. “If they’re bringing up women from across state lines or over from Canada, it’s not something we can leave to the state troopers. Anyway, the Bureau would want this.”

  Prostitution was a huge problem, especially in remote areas where there was a lack of woman. It’d been a problem in Alaska since the days of the gold rush when Alaska was mostly Natives and hunters. Some women chose the sex trade life, but the truth was, once they were in it, there was little choice at all. Many got tricked into it by a so-called boyfriend.

  “Pimps are bad enough, but if they have a big organization with a lot of muscle...my source made it sound like they were taking up more than a couple rental cabins. Moving the victims in a camper or campers. We might be dealing with serious volume,” I replied.

  He smiled. “We’ll check it out at lunch. Could be nothing, or it could be something.”

  “I know—that’s why I’m playing it careful. If I reported the case and it’s a goose chase, I look like an idiot.” I’d done that before.

  “Exactly.” Mitch tapped on his laptop. “Rules are meant for the brass to cover their ass. Real investigations work a little differently. Once we have enough for a warrant, it’s a real case.”

  Mitch was ten years older than me and helped me break the rules safely. I lied to people daily, by omission, so it wasn’t my conscience that was in question. The thought of another life scared me. I helped humans and magical beings who needed it, and I was part of something that kept me a bit safer than being wild in the magic pockets all over Alaska.

  There were rumors when I was little that magical beings would unite and take over Alaska. Maybe add Canada if it worked. Carve out land exclusively for those with powers and stop hiding or being annoyed by humans.

  It’d never happen. The diversity of magical beings was such that they’d never follow one leader. Not really. The groups largely acted like clans with their traditions, quirks, and loyalty. We were really just a different sort of Native Alaskan—we were here before the white men. We stuck to our own kind, and we didn’t like being bullied.

  There was nothing, but a tingle to indicate to me this case might have a magical connection. But if magical beings were trafficking in human sex slaves or semi-magical sex slaves, I had to be on that case.

  “Here’s the address,” I handed him the piece of paper.

  “That’s not far from the burger place you like. Grab some caribou burgers, those seasoned fries, and maybe onions rings. We can park, eat, and watch. Nobody would suspect a thing. First things first. Let’s roll on the routine cases.” Mitch grabbed his suit coat and winter jacket.

  “Perfect. You’re making me hungry.” I followed him with my ultra-thin jacket, I never really got cold the way humans did, but I had to play along.

  “You had a big breakfast. I had yogurt and berries. Wife is on a health kick,” Mitch grumbled.

  “You’ll make up for it at lunch. My treat,” I offered.

  That made him smile. Mitch’s wife was an all-natural nut for health. She made or grew a lot of their food, and Mitch hunted for their meat, so it was as pure and as lean as you could get. I could torture him and tell him I’d splurged on waffles, but I wanted him extra cooperative today.

  We got in our assigned vehicle, and he started it up. Him driving let me scan for magical issues. There were always magical beings around, and they weren’t usually a threat. Sure, the back alleys of Anchorage had their dank para bars like any other place, but by day, most of the magicals hid out or played their role in a normal human city. I had some magical friends who kept me informed, but I had to keep my guard up. New people of all sorts came in and out of Anchorage daily.

  “You’re kind of quiet today. It’s a good lead, but they may have pulled up stakes if the woman was nosing around.” Mitch didn’t want me to get my hopes up.

  “I know, but she only drove by twice. Her hubby was there regularly as a handyman. It’s that tug-of-war. Don’t overreact as it might be nothing. Don’t ignore it because it could be a small part of a big something. Right now, I’m going to figure out if I want onion rings too,” I teased.

  Mitch laughed. “You know I don’t share.”

  As we pulled out into traffic, we made it a few feet before we were waiting for a moose to meander across the four-lane highway. Humans had to be patient here, and it wasn’t only magicals who could be a danger. A grown moose could easily total a car or stomp a man to death. Even in Anchorage, the most populated and congested city in Alaska, no one honked or got out to urge the animal on. I gave it a tiny magical tap and hoped the animal didn’t spook.

  “Do you ever think of moving out of the city? Maybe going somewhere that’s less populated?” I asked Mitch.

  He snorted a laugh. “I’d have been a state trooper then, but hell no. I like to camp and vacation out there. Hunting trips and so on are great, but I want my kids to make it through college here. Then they can decide if they want to live in the bush or wherever.”

  “For the kids, I get it,” I replied.

  “You thinking of moving?” Mitch asked.

  Traffic started to move as the moose made it across the road. “No, sometimes I just miss the ocean. I grew up on the Kenia down south.”

  “That is a nice area down there on the Peninsula. Plenty of people, not as much of a city atmosphere. I can see you there. Making retirement plans for Homer.” Mitch nodded approvingly. “You’ve got some time before you retire.”

  “That’s for sure.” I pulled the first routine case on my smartphone and reviewed the info.

  Still my mind was already on what we’d find at the rental properties. “If we run into the handyman at the rentals, we’re not to mention that his wife gave us the tip.”

  “No one wants to get involved, but everyone wants to be able to complain when we can’t catch the bad guys. We don’t need to tell anyone anything. They answer our questions because we have the badge.” Mitch grinned.

  Power often went to the heads of humans—especially the males. It was no wonder I was terminally single.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” Mitch asked as though he could read my mind.

  He couldn’t. But his wife was forever trying to set me up with men.

  “No, and I’m fine with that,” I said.

  Mitch shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a night out and a free dinner. My wife wouldn’t set you up with a jerk.”

  “I know. I’m just focused on my career right now,” I lied.

  “Come on. If I don’t tell you about Rex, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Mitch was caught between two women.

  He’d never win.

  “Rex—it sounds like he’s a dog,” I joked. “Fine. Tell me all about this dog man. Then I can say no, and we’re both off the hook.”

  “I don’t know how you stay so skinny. You’re like a pixie who eats like a grizzly bear,” Mitch commented.

  I sputtered and nearly choked on my chocolate shake. Pixie no, but supernatural genes and magic didn’t hurt.

  Once I could talk, I gave it right back. “This place was your idea. Burgers, seasoned wedges, not even the thin fries—you ordered us wedges and onion rings. Your wife is going to smell the grease on you.”<
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  He grinned. “Junk food is my only mistress. She’ll live.”

  We were parked not far from the rental cabins. It was all as Kim had described down to the camper plus a big box truck. A couple guys were milling around smoking cigarettes.

  Eventually, two of them snuffed out their cigarette butts and took off in a SUV while a pickup truck remained.

  “Reginold Construction. That’s the handyman.” I was hoping we wouldn’t see him.

  “We play dumb. Walk around, and if he says anything to us, ask about renting the place next year. Family reunion, so we’ll need a bunch of cabins.” Mitch aced making up stories that sounded totally plausible to humans. I’d also noticed that white guys asked a lot fewer questions when the story came from another white guy.

  “Sounds good.” I wiped my hands on a napkin then popped a piece of gum in my mouth.

  Mitch and I exited the car and split up. I went toward the back of the cabins while he went around the front. The closer I went, the more I felt some type of magical residue. There was nothing obviously out of place. I didn’t spot women inside or any hints that people were being held against their will.

  “Can I help you?” asked Reginold.

  I looked around. He wasn’t talking to me.

  “Sure thing! I’ve driven by these a few times, and I wondered who I’d contact about renting the cabins. Got a family reunion next year.” Mitch shook the handyman’s hand.

  I kept walking around like I was making a normal loop and joined them. “They look big enough.” I nodded to Mitch.

  “Sorry, I’m just the handyman. Clearing the gutters and checking on things for the winter. I can pass along your name and number to the owners when I call to update them on the maintenance,” he offered.

  “You don’t have a card for them? I’d like to look them up and be sure it’s a legit place. I’ve been screwed by a few people who wanted deposits and stuff got double booked.” Mitch frowned.

  Reginold shrugged. “I hear ya, but no. I don’t know if this guy has business cards. I don’t have any from him. Might not be your style, pretty rough—old fixtures and all. The guy just owns a bunch of cabins, but he’s not one to screw people over by double booking or anything but he only replaces stuff when it’s wrecked.”