Strange Things Done by Elle Wild

out to Crocus Bluffs the night Marlo McAdam died?” He studied her closely.
    “I … believe you are mistaken.” Jo sat down hard. “Mr. Byrne simply gave me a ride home. I was … feeling unwell.”
    “Are you sure you want to stick with that story?” His expression showed disbelief.
    “Are you sure that you’re still investigating an accident? You seem to be asking a lot of questions for something you’ve told the public was an accidental death.”
    Cariboo considered her for a moment. There was a long silence, then he said, “Did you know that Christopher Byrne was sleeping with Marlo McAdam?”
    She felt something inside her constrict. “I did not. But it’s none of my business. I barely know him.” Her face flushed and she experienced a rush of self-loathing. If there was one thing she hated, it was being easy to read. Cariboo looked away, as if finding an answer that he didn’t like.
    “That’s not what I hear. He told me you drove up to his cabin yesterday.”
    “I was investigating the story for the Daily .”
    “And you have a date with him tonight?”
    She didn’t answer him. Jo remembered Byrne’s eyes on her at the bar. She hadn’t been certain whether he’d been serious or not, but now she’d have to make sure that he kept the invitation.
    There was a long silence between them, ended by Cariboo. “You know, I can’t quite decide whether I’m worried about you, or for you.” He gave Jo a penetrating look.
    Jo broke eye contact with Cariboo to glance at her watch and then out the window.
    A smattering of shops on Front Street that hadn’t closed for the season yet, or had decided to tough it out through a Klondike winter, were beginning to show signs of life. The light in the Dawson Trading Post winked on. (“Yes, we sell mammoth ivory!”) A well-bundled form disappeared inside The General Store. The sign in the window of Jimmy’s, the DVD rental and bookstore, flipped to “Open.” The white metal gates at the mouth of Maximilian’s Gold Rush Emporium were sliding back. Jo reached for her parka. She needed time to think.
    “Where are you going?” Cariboo asked, the irritation in his voice clear.
    “I’ve broken no law,” she said, already pulling on cold rubber boots.
    “That you remember.” There was a meaningful silence before he added, “Do you think it’s wise to be alone with him?”
    Jo felt something inside her flare again. “Why? Are you jealous?” Her face was hot with annoyance.
    “Yes,” he answered.
    His boldness shocked her. Was he winding her up? She stared at him, but his dark eyes returned the gaze without any trace of humour or malice. She felt something else pass between them, which she chose to ignore. “Is that all?” She wrapped a thick scarf around her throat, as though to protect herself from further attack.
    “For now.”
    The sergeant’s cruiser was parked right outside the Daily , causing curtains along Front Street to draw back.
    “But don’t leave town.” Cariboo added, his tone firm.
    Jo could have laughed out loud, but thought better of it.

9
    The display cases in the window glittered with ostentatious jewellery and lusty nuggets of raw gold. Jo caught sight of her image in the glass. Reflected through the words “Gold Digger,” her double’s hair appeared to be a tarnished shade of yellow instead of her usual dark brown, and she watched herself brush away a strand that was blowing in her eyes. Her doppelganger frowned. She was tired of waiting, too.
    The “Closed” sign had not been flipped to “Open,” though it was now well past eleven, the appointed hour for the boutique to open and Jo to meet May. The shop floor was unlit, and the seductive exhibits of tourist gold were unattended. May Wong was nowhere to be seen. Jo backed away, surveying the street, checking for anyone who might be en route to the shop. The air smelled of snow and woodsmoke. A figure in a bright turquoise coat was disappearing down Front with a