make it to Greenland right now. The authorities have always been willing to work with her, as most of her business is legitimate. But now they’re apparently shocked—shocked—to find out about the shady sides of her businesses in Baffin. So it’s time to retreat, and retrench.”
Anika sighed. She was causing trouble for everyone she got involved with.
Jim handed her the envelope. “So you have a choice. This is enough cash to disappear with. Could get you to Greenland.”
It was tempting. She couldn’t imagine Vy wanted to see more of her after Anika’d dragged her down with her. This would avoid complications, more people hurt. “Or?”
“Meet Violet at her safe house, and plan your next step with more help.”
Anika sat down on the steps. How well did she know Vy? Well enough not to assume Baffin’s drug lord wasn’t going to cut her throat and leave her for dead as revenge for bringing the police down on her favorite place of business?
She doubted it. Or Jim would have done that already.
No, Vy was reaching out. Offering to get even further deeply involved.
But could she do that?
It wasn’t like Vy was an innocent. She was a goddamned drug lord. She might be bubbly and blond and cute, but …
But …
Vy would be a powerful person to have at Anika’s side.
That was the cold calculation.
The other was that, Anika found herself looking back at The Greenhouse and thinking that she really didn’t want to just run away without at least talking to Vy one last time. To at least apologize.
“I’ll go to the safe house,” she told Jim. “Where is it?”
Jim Kusugak held out a hand. “You won’t like this,” he grinned. “We have a hundred-mile kayak trip out into the Lancaster Sound ahead of us.”
“Kayaking?”
“Kayaking.” He pointed at the cold sea out past the harbor. Miles and miles of cold, wet nothingness.
He was right. Anika didn’t like it.
16
Jim Kusugak dragged the two-person kayak down to a small concrete ramp hidden away behind a rickety wooden pier. A few fishing boats lay scattered around the top of the ramp.
Anika had expected an Inuit kayak when Jim explained the trip to her: something made of sealskin and bone, or wood. She’d seen a few local handmade kayaks.
This kayak was yellow plastic with red racing stripes and what looked like exhaust vents coming out of the back. She’d be just inches above the frigid water.
“Is that really going to hold the both of us?” she asked, thoughts of nuclear warheads and torture set aside as she considered the dangers of riding so close to the ocean. It was time to focus on the little steps just in front of her.
Jim tossed the duffel bag onto the ground. “There’re two neoprene tuiliqs in there. You wear the red one, toss me the green one.”
“A what?”
“Looks like a wet suit and a kilt made out of rubber. Put it on. Put your shopping in the duffel when you’re done.”
Inside the duffel were two pieces of clothing just as he’d described. Sort of like kayak survival suits. He pulled the green one on over his clothes, adjusting the cap around his face, and Anika struggled into the red one.
Jim walked over and inspected it. It was very much a wet suit that started as a hood and then ran down into a long-sleeved shirt. But once down to the waist, the shirt flared out into a skirt with a tough zipper that ran around it, along with a Velcro overlap.
“Looks good.” He pointed at the kayak. “Hop in the front.”
Anika clambered in. There was a comfortable seat in the front hole. Except for a tiny piece of the bow, the kayak was mostly on the concrete.
Jim grabbed the skirt of the tuiliq and zipped it onto a matching zipper running around the seat, sealing her into the front section of the kayak. Then he fastened the Velcro lip on as well. She was a part of the kayak, and waterproofed.
It was an oddly intimate melding of person and tool, she thought, turning around to test how much movement she
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