Thin Ice

by Maryann Jordan

  “Hello,” the taller, darker man greeted, his white teeth gleaming against his skin. Walking closer, he asked, “And who do we have here?”

  “I’m Vivian…from next door.”

  “I’m Malik,” the smaller man said, his eyes not leaving her face.

  Suddenly feeling like one of her specimens under a microscope, she forced her smile to not waver. “I was hoping to get some help starting a fire with the charcoal in my grill. My husband will be home soon and I wanted to grill steaks for him.”

  The taller man stepped up, introducing himself. “Rashad.” He glanced behind her to the grill and said, “I’ll help you.”

  “Oh, thank you. That would be so nice.” Emboldened, she moved toward Farrah and thrust her hand out to the man she was standing next to. “Are you Farrah’s husband? It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Yes,” he responded, ignoring her outstretched hand.

  She caught Farrah’s blush as she started to turn away, but she twisted back as though just having a thought. “You know, I’ve got tons of food. We’d love to have you join us for a cookout…out here.”

  She caught Farrah’s eyes flare in interest, while the other woman’s eyes went cold and hard. Both Rashad and Malik grinned in response, though Akram did not change his expression.

  Pushing forward, she said, “I’ve got steaks and potatoes.” Farrah said nothing, so she added, “It’d be so nice to meet some people around here.”

  “I have no time,” barked the unnamed woman as she moved toward the house.

  “Well, we have to eat,” Malik said, not looking back at the others.

  “Right,” Rashad agreed, his smile firmly in place.

  “We will be happy to join you,” Akram finally spoke, his eyes unreadable. “My wife and Nafisa will prepare some food as well.”

  At this, Nafisa whirled around, her glare now focused on Akram. “I have things to do—”

  “Silence!” his voice sliced through her objections. Nafisa’s mouth snapped shut, but her chest heaved. Facing Vivian, he repeated, “We will join you and your husband. Rashad can go now to assist with the fire.”

  Smiling with accomplishment, she turned to walk back to her yard, praying Logan would not be pissed.

  Logan nodded toward the bartender standing behind the bar in the town saloon. The rough building, like most in the area, looked worse for the wear. Harsh winters had obviously pounded the weather-beaten wooden exteriors. Although, surprisingly, looking at the clean interior, it appeared just as worn. A large man, his tan skin, eyes, and cheekbones giving evidence to his native Alaskan heritage, smiled widely as Logan settled onto a barstool.

  “Whatcha havin’?”

  “Draft,” he replied.

  “You’ve been here two days in a row, newcomer.” This came from behind him and as he turned, his gaze landed on the waitress he met yesterday when ordering the burgers. Even with her sleek black hair and dark, twinkling eyes, he knew she was fishing.

  “Yep,” he replied, lips twitching upward.

  Huffing, she slapped her dishtowel on the bar and said, “So, you gonna talk or what?”

  “Woman, leave the customer alone,” the bartender managed to growl and wink at the same time.

  “Iggie, if we want fresh blood in this joint, we need to be friendly with the customers,” she groused back.

  “And I’m tellin’ you, Sadie, we gotta give the man a chance to have a drink before you pepper him with questions.”

  At their lively banter, Logan let a grin slip out despite his effort to rein it in. “Either you two have been working together a while or you’re married.”

  “Both,” Iggie and Sadie said at the same time.

  The man held his hand out, grasping his in a firm handshake. “Guess you figured out I’m Iggie. Igaluk’s my name, but Sadie nicknamed me Iggie about twenty years ago when we met as teens. Kind of stuck. Welcome to the Goldmine Saloon.”

  “Logan Preacher.”

  “Nice to meet you, Logan,” Sadie said, her smile genuine. “You living around here or just passing through?”

  Eyeing her carefully, he said, “Why do I get the feeling you already know?” Seeing her grin, he confirmed, “My wife and I just moved here. Live off Ester Creek Road. Right at the end.”

  Sadie and Iggie shared a quick glance, which wasn’t lost on him. He continued to drink his beer as he added to the story. “Got a part-time job as a mechanic. Wife’s taking online classes for now.”

  “Met your neighbors yet?” Sadie asked.

  He acknowledged her attempt to keep her voice neutral, but heard the inflections none the less. “Nope. My wife met the woman that lives there.”

  Her eyes flared with interest. “They don’t come in here, but then I heard from Betty, over at the grocery, that when they come in there, they don’t talk much.” Hearing Iggie making a grunting noise, she hurried to say, “It just seems weird to me when someone moves to a small town and yet don’t make any attempt to meet the people they come in contact with. That’s just not neighborly.”

  “He’s got those college kids around,” Iggie said, “so they probably spend a lot of their time in Fairbanks.”

  “Whatever,” she grumbled, then smiled again as she looked over at him. “So, Preacher, when you gonna bring your wife in?”

  He startled at the sound of his SEAL name being used so easily by someone else though, he had to admit, he had chosen it as a way to connect with his former missions. Well, the ones taken with a bunch of badass SEALs and not an impetuous scientist. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll get her in here soon. She’s a real sociable girl. She’d love to meet you.”

  Sadie’s eyes sparkled and she said, “Well, good, ‘cause I doubt she’ll have any luck making friends with your neighbors!”

  Logan drove up the driveway, his mind alternating between how best to get into the Zaman’s house to see exactly what they were doing when his equipment was delivered and thinking of Viv. Thoughts of her won out and he found himself eager to get home. Knowing she might be bored and lonely, he rounded the curve anxious to see her again.

  Seeing a gathering of people in front of his house had his heart racing as he blinked to take in what he was observing. Smoke rose from an old grill that had not only seen better days, but probably better decades. A few lawn chairs dotted the grass with a card table set up in the center.

  And there was Vivian, standing at the grill, surrounded by two men. Two women with traditional hijabs wrapped around their heads were nearby, one sitting in a chair and the other standing by the table. As he pulled closer, he noticed Akram standing to the side, his face giving away nothing. Fuck me. I’m gone part of a day and Viv’s managed to get the whole gang together. Thoughts of throttling her were becoming more of a reality.

  Stepping out of his truck he felt all eyes on him, but it was the beauty that was running toward him that took his attention. This time he was ready when she jumped into his arms. With one hand under her ass and the other arm around her back, he held her close as she pressed her lips to his. Stunned, he jolted, but quickly realized what she was doing. Determined to act like newlyweds, he angled his head for more maximum contact. Deep, wet, and long, but no tongue. That last part nearly undid him but, while he wanted to take advantage of the kiss, he did not want to take advantage of her.

  She leaned back slightly, eyes wide and glazed. “Wow,” she breathed against his lips.

  “Yeah,” he whispered back, her face filling his sight.

  Blinking, she said, “I know it’s crazy, don’t be mad…it just all happened.”

  “Viv, with you,” he growled softly in her ear, “I already know nothing just happens.”

  Settling her feet down to the gravel drive, he peered down at her, assessing. She was nervous, but she smiled up at him, greeting brightly, “Hey, sweetie, I’ve met our neighbors and asked them to eat with us. It’s such a lovely afternoon, I thought we could grill out.”

  Meeting her smile with one of h
is own, he inwardly rolled his eyes at her subterfuge, but quickly decided to make the most of their intelligence gathering opportunity.

  “Sounds good, babe.” They walked over and she began the introductions.

  Rashad and Malik greeted him with practiced smiles, but he noticed their gazes were not nearly as warm as when they were aimed at Viv. Jealously, mixed with protectiveness, shot through him, but he tamped it down. Moving to shake hands with Akram, he observed the man’s dark, penetrating gaze as he took his hand in a friendly shake, giving his name.

  Looking to the women, he noticed none of the men introduced them, but Vivian stepped forward.

  “This is Akram’s wife, Farrah, and one of the students at the university, Nafisa.”

  He greeted Farrah, not allowing his eyes to linger on her, especially with Akram eagle-eying him, but noted her nervously glancing toward her husband. Nafisa barely acknowledged him, giving a slight nod before turning away.

  Grinning as he walked over to Vivian, he glanced at the table loaded with several Middle Eastern dishes. His arm encircling her waist, his fingers gripping slightly, he said, “Looks like it’s going to be an interesting dinner, babe.”

  12

  Logan could not deny the food was delicious, making sure to only eat after he observed the others eating from the same dish first. Chicken on skewers, falafel, and hummus with naan bread, combined with Vivian’s steaks and corn on the cob. Interested in the participants, he easily slid into the cover of just a mechanic looking for work. As they sat in lawn chairs, the late afternoon sun still shining warmly over the treetops, he ate heartily, disguising his study of the various players. Casting his gaze back toward Vivian, he gave a nearly imperceptible nod, relieved when she seemed to pick up on his non-verbal command.

  “So, what are you studying?” Vivian asked, smiling at Rashad and Malik.

  Rashad’s mouth was full, but Malik answered for both of them. “Science. I’m a grad student in Chemistry and Rashad’s getting a master’s in Biology.”

  Eyes wide, she exclaimed, “Oh, my goodness, me too. Well, not my master’s degree…I’m just working on my undergraduate. I have most of my credits but am taking some online classes in education, ‘cause I’d like to teach biology someday.”

  Rashad smiled as he swallowed, “Great—”

  “Really?” Nafisa asked, her eyes narrowed. “You? Biology?”

  Maintaining her smile, she nodded. “Well, actually my major is microbiology.”

  Nafisa leaned forward, a sly smile firmly in place, and asked, “And what particular type of microbiology are you interested in?”

  “Nafisa!” Rashad growled.

  “What?” she argued, shrugging her delicate shoulder. “I’m just seeing what she’s majoring in.” Turning back to Vivian, she provoked, “If you can tell us.”

  “I’m particularly interested in microorganisms that are used for drug delivery. Of course, they can be suitable for high-value medical application such as tissue engineering. I studied the biotechnological production of biopolymers with tailored properties and a variety of other biopolymers, such as polysaccharides, polyesters, and polyamides. Obviously, these are produced by microorganisms.” Smiling widely, her eyes twinkling, she focused on Nafisa. “Is that what you were looking for?”

  Nafisa grimaced and leaned back in her seat, forced to admit Vivian knew what she was talking about, as Rashad and Malik burst into laughter.

  “What do you plan to do with your degrees?” she asked the two men. “What are your specialties?”

  Malik’s smile drooped slightly as his gaze shifted to Akram. “For now, I just want to continue to learn as much as I can. I sometimes think that perhaps I’m best as a student, not so much as an employee.”

  She nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It’s so hard to have an unending love of learning, don’t you think?”

  Rashad wiped his mouth, his eyes on her as he said, “I had thought about pre-med. I don’t know…maybe.”

  “That’s so noble. To be able to save lives is such a gift,” she commented pointedly.

  Silence fell over the group as they continued to eat, Farrah standing occasionally to serve the men, always starting with Akram. As she approached Logan, he smiled genuinely, saying, “No more, but thank you. It was delicious.”

  “So, Mr. Preacher, what do you do?”

  Logan shifted his gaze to Akram and gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I work on aircraft. Been a mechanic for several years.”

  “And where did you learn such a trade? The military, perhaps?”

  A heavy silence hung in the air. With an aw-shucks attitude, he grinned. “Nah. My parents were farmers and had their own crop dusting plane. I learned on it and, after high school, went to technical school to learn more.”

  Akram seemed to relax slightly in his chair, his eyes less wary than before. “And Alaska? Why here?”

  “My grandfather,” Vivian said quickly, interjecting before he had a chance to reply. He kept his expression neutral, but inside, he quaked. What the fuck is she doing? We haven’t talked about that yet—

  “My mother is full blooded Tanana Athabaskans. My parents are in California, but my grandfather is still here. He’s not well, but I kinda wanted to be closer to him and Logan was sweet enough to tell me he could get a job anywhere, so…we’re here.”

  His pulse eased as he noted the others appeared to relax with both Viv’s biology response and the story of her grandfather. Surprised at her ability to think quickly on her feet, he smiled at her, his face a mask of an indulgent husband completely in love with his wife.

  Turning his focus toward Akram, he leaned back, patting his stomach and said, “And what do you do?”

  Dark eyes penetrated his for a moment before Akram replied, “I work at the university. I counsel with a variety of students, particularly ones who are here from other countries.”

  “Been in Alaska long?” he continued.

  “For a while,” came the noncommittal reply.

  “Where are you from originally?” Vivian asked, turning her wide eyes to the gathering. “I find that, after the California sun, Alaska’s cold can be hard to get used to.”

  Farrah nodded enthusiastically. “I much prefer the warmer weather of—”

  Clearing his voice loudly, Akram interrupted her, causing Farrah to clamp her lips shut, her eyes darting anxiously toward Akram.

  “I was in Northern California,” Vivian jumped in, “so we certainly had snow, but it was nothing like here.”

  “Well, this was lovely,” Nafisa said, sarcasm dripping from her words as she stood. “But, I gave up an evening of studying and need to get back to work.” She gathered two almost empty dishes from the table and looked down at Farrah. “Helping?”

  “Of course,” Farrah said, jumping up. “Vivian, it was truly very nice of you to invite us to share a meal with you.”

  She stood also, watching as Nafisa handed the two platters to Farrah. “It was our pleasure. Your food was wonderful and the spices you gave me for our steaks were incredible.”

  The men took their leave, following the women back to Akram’s house, leaving Logan and her to take the last couple of plates into their house along with the card table. Once inside, she set her dishes on the counter before immediately turning to him.

  “Look, Logan. I know you’re probably mad as hell at me. It was just all so unplanned, really. Well, not completely. I had mentioned a cookout to Farrah yesterday and went to the grocery store just in case. But, I had no idea if I could meet them or get them to come. It worked out when Rashad and Malik came. I couldn’t get the charcoal lit and it appealed to their machismo side, I think. But, it worked, didn’t it? I mean, we got to meet them all and stayed outside, right?”

  Logan leaned his hip against the counter, watching her arms flying about as she walked and talked, her nervousness palpable. Finally, when her hands came to rest in front of her, he moved closer, placing his hands on her shoulders, pinning her in place.
“I’m beginning to get used to the idea that you seem unable to follow a plan.” Sighing when he watched her face fall, he added, “It’s okay. I admit, when I drove up, I was caught off guard.” Tilting his head back, he stared at the ceiling for a moment before lowering his head so his gaze could hold hers. “Yeah…it was good. We now have confirmation of who is there but, babe, you’ve got to realize the dangers lurking.”

  Sucking in her lips, Vivian sighed loudly. Knowing he was going to be lecturing her again, she stiffened, feeling his fingers digging into her shoulders.

  Jerking his head toward the direction of the neighbors’ house, he said, “They’re not just neighbors. Not nice people. Any one of them would slit your throat if they had any idea you were looking into them.”

  At that, she sucked in a quick breath, her forehead crinkling.

  He noticed the change in her expression and pressed his point further. “Yeah, Viv. You heard me right. Slit. Your. Throat.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words forthcoming, so she closed her lips, feeling them quiver slightly.

  “I see I’m starting to get through,” he said, his voice gentler. “When I said I needed you here to watch their comings and goings, that’s what I meant. Not going over and meeting them. What if I had been late getting home? You would have been here with five known terrorists. And the instant one of them suspected you were anything other than a new wife taking some online classes, they would have killed you without compunction…and I would not know what had happened.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, her feeling of accomplishment decimated. Her shoulders slumped, but instead of Logan pulling away after making his point, he pulled her forward until her face planted in his chest. His arms slid around her back as he barely rocked side to side.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, the silent trail of a lonely tear sliding down her face, soaking into his shirt. “I just wanted to help.”