Chapter 2: The Family Reputation

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As usual, Elizabeth's supervising officer gave her no time to explain.

"Constable Fraser." Sergeant Victor Kataq stared up at her as she stood at attention before his desk. "What crime, precisely, justifies chasing a suspect in a dog sled and snowshoes?"

She pulled out her notebook and checked. "Well, it began with shoe theft, sir."

"Shoe theft?"

"To be precise, sir, he stole a rare set of 19th century beaded moccasins." She removed the moccasins from the suspect's backpack and placed them on the table. "Miners took them during the gold rush and the Tr'ondëk Hwëch'in only got them back last year. The thief broke into the cultural centre and stole them, then fled along the highway. The local elders are on their way to retrieve them."

"And you couldn't wait for backup?"

"I was concerned about the suspect's safety, sir. And then I found this." Elizabeth dropped the backpack on her supervising officer's desk. Reaching inside, her hands still gloved, she removed two unloaded black handguns, several high-capacity magazines, several unlabelled bags of pills, and a bundle of cash.

"Two prohibited weapons, four prohibited magazines, what appears to be counterfeit Oxycontin but likely contains fentanyl, and," she checked her notes again. "Three thousand two hundred and twenty-five Canadian dollars."

Kataq inspected the weapons without touching them. He wore a hard, weary look. "What year is it, Constable?"

Elizabeth was confused. "2024, sir, there's a calendar on the–"

The sergeant cut her off. "It's 2024. Not 1944, not 1894, not even 1994. You don't have to take down every outlaw by yourself. You don't have to race through the forest on a dog sled. And you don't have to be your father."

Elizabeth stiffened. She was not trying to be her father. She was trying to do her duty, but her fellow officers didn't always see it that way. Standing in stillness, she searched for a response.

"Sir, I was simply trying to do my best. My sworn duty. I wouldn't want to be accused of coasting on my father's reputation."

"No one would accuse you of coasting anywhere, Constable," he sighed. "Except, perhaps, on a toboggan."

"I apologize for that, sir, but under the circumstances, it was the fastest way down the mountain," she said.

Sergeant Kataq paused with his pen halfway to the page. He frowned, then shook his head.

"I'm going to forget you said that. While I value enthusiasm among my officers, Fraser, they are more valuable alive. I think your mother would agree with me."

That was surprising. Elizabeth never mentioned her mother at the Dawson City detachment. She preferred it that way. While her father's name and reputation were inescapable in the Yukon Territory, he kept an appropriate distance. He didn't inquire about her from her superiors or chide them for her mistakes. Her mother had a different approach.

"I don't believe I mentioned my mother to you, sir."

"You didn't. However, shortly after your transfer here, your mother told me that if you were wounded or killed on my watch, she would transfer me to Baffin Island."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you from Baffin Island, sir?"

The sergeant appeared to suppress a laugh, before his face grew stern again.

"Book the suspect, finish your paperwork, then get some sleep. And stop trying to be a legend. We're not the mythical Mounties anymore. Maybe we never were." There was a hint of despondency in the sergeant's voice, as though he wished he didn't need to say that.

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