CHAPTER SIX
Sadie felt as though she would never be warm again. Bundled up in fresh clothes that were slightly too big that had been taken from the Lost Property Office at Anchorage’s main police station, and draped in blankets with a mug of scorching coffee in her hand, she felt the cold in her very bones.
Scrapper sat opposite her in the interrogation room, in his own lost and now found clothes and scratchy blankets, looking a lot cleaner than he had before he took his plunge. He was younger than Sadie would have originally guessed, maybe late thirties rather than the over fifty she would have expected from her first sightings of him. He looked at the floor, hostility and fear both radiating from him. So far, he had refused to speak to anyone, without even a thank-you for the clothes a
