Stabenow, Dana - Shugak 02 - A Fatal Thaw

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by A Fatal Thaw(lit)


  few moments' tugging, Kate pulled

  her knife and cut it. Jack uttered an inarticulate protest

  about destroying evidence. She stilled it with a single

  shake of her head. "We won't need it."

  He let the tree go and stood staring at her through

  narrowed eyes as it swung back and forth above them

  in steadily diminishing arcs. "You know who did it,

  don't you."

  It wasn't a question, and she didn't answer.

  "You find it?" Bobby asked the moment they walked

  in.

  Kate nodded curtly. Mutt squatted next to the door,

  ears up, watching Kate's every move with an intent

  yellow gaze. "You find

  "Her who?" Jack inquired.

  "Didn't look." "Why not?"

  already know where she is."

  "Where?"

  Kate jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "George hired

  her to take a climbing party up the Big Bump."

  "Going up Angqaq Peak, eh?" Bobby shook his head.

  "Beats me why some people go to all that trouble

  just because it's there. Me, I'll settle for the Discovery Channel." He

  cocked his head, eyeing her with

  inquisitive gaze, looking like an black-eyed,

  black-headed robin. "She really do it?"

  Kate nodded her head at the pillar of electronics that held up the

  center of the house. "Can you raise the Park

  on that thing?"

  Bobby was hurt. "I can raise Tranquility Base on that

  thing if I have to. Who you want to talk to?

  "Dan O'Brian."

  "Consider it done," Bobby said grandly and rolled to the radio.

  Kate's conversation with Dan O'Brian was short and terse. Jack's lips

  set in a thin line as he listened. Bobby signed off when she was

  through, and Kate looked around from the radio. "Where's your pack?"

  "In the closet in the corner. You going after her?" Kate opened the

  closet door, and like the Kanuyaq when the ice melted, its contents

  cascaded onto the floor in a fierce, joyous current of junk. She waded

  through it and pulled out an old canvas pack on a metal frame. "Got any

  longies?"

  "Left-hand drawer under the bed, right side. Where'd you find the rifle?"

  She found the long underwear and began to strip, as Bobby looked on,

  frankly admiring, and as Jack looked on, angry at both of them but smart

  enough to hide it, or try to. "I'm so slow I make glacial erosion look

  speedy," Kate said, voice muffled in her sweater. She fumbled for the

  right holes in the Longies top and shoved her hands through. "I was

  standing there looking at those trees, and I knew it had to be there

  somewhere. It had to be. Then last night, when I was talking to Eknaty

  and he was telling me about when Lottie took him hunting, I remembered

  how Abel taught me to keep game out of the reach of bear and wolves and

  wolverines while we he were on a hunt. You got some wool socks?" This as

  she donned jeans over the longies.

  He watched until the last inch of skin was covered, and then, with a

  sigh of regret for all good things past, Bobby said, "I don't have any

  feet, Kate."

  "Right, sorry, I forgot." She looked at Jack, who sat down and began

  unlacing his boots.

  "Find yourself a nice, young, supple;, medium-sized birch," Kate

  continued. "Bend it down, stake it out, tie your meat or your supplies

  or whatever you want too keep out of the reach of whoever or

  whatever-walks below

  while you're gone, and let it go. Simple,

  effective. I don't know why it is, but nobody ever looks up. You got a

  vest?"

  "Eddie Bauer one-hundred percent pure goose down." Kate smiled slightly.

  "Only the best."

  "You bet." He rolled over to the coatrack, snagged the vest and tossed

  it to her. "You tie something as bulky as a rifle to the top of a birch

  tree with no leaves on it, somebody's going to see it eventually."

  She pulled on the vest and snapped it closed. "Then you pick a spruce,

  one young enough to bend but old enough to have some height. Pick one in

  a clump of birch and spruce and cottonwood, all tangled up together, on

  a piece of state land anybody would be instantly jailed for trying to

  clear, and if you do it right you couldn't see it from the air, let

  alone the ground."

  Bobby shook his head. "Lot of traffic around there, air and ground.

  Sounds iffy to me."

  "She was in a hurry." Kate shrugged. "It's hard to quarrel with success.

  Even I had a hard time figuring out what she did with it, and I've known

  Lottie all my life."

  Jack was rummaging in his grip for spare socks.. At Kate's words, he

  paused, his thick eyebrows coming together in a frown. "You knew."

  "Knew what?" Kate held up a pair of glove liners and

  paused, looking down at the pack.

  "You know who did it. You've always known."

  "Oh for crying out loud, Jack," she said, exasperated.

  "What's the matter with you? What's the first thing you

  taught me on the job? What's Morgan's First Law?

  nearest and the dearest got the motive with the mostest.'

  Of course I knew. I doubt that there was a soul in the

  Park, who thought about it for more than thirty straight

  seconds, who didn't know who did

  "Really," Jack said between his teeth. "Mind telling

  me how?"

  She looked down at the glove liners, looked up at Bobby. "Take'em," he

  said. "Better to have'em and not need'em than the alternative."

  She checked her watch. "We've got just enough time for a bedtime story.

  I'm only going to tell it once, so listen carefully.

  "Once upon a time, there was a man and a wife living in the Alaskan

  bush. They had two daughters. The oldest was a bear of a child,

  something over ten pounds at birth, and from the time she could walk and

  talk she was a taciturn, difficult person. I don't think she ever was a

  girl." Kate paused. "Although I'm not sure she ever was a woman, either."

  Jack wanted to ask what the hell that meant, but Kate went on. "The

  younger daughter, born ten years later, was everything the elder was

  not. She was little, she was dainty, she was pretty, she was charming.

  She had all the social graces Lottie lacked."

  Kate smiled. It was not a nice smile. "Naturally, her parents, in

  particular her father, who disapproved of unfemininity on male

  chauvinist principals, just loved Lisa to death."

  "And Lottie?"

  "Oh, he tolerated Lottie. They both did. They put up with her. They were

  aware of their responsibilities as her parents, after all." Jack

  flinched at the sarcasm in her voice. "At least her mother was. Her

  father ridiculed her, which just confirmed her sense of worthlessness.

  She became morbidly sensitive over her size-"

  "I've met her," Jack said in a puzzled voice. "She's not that big." He

  tossed Kate the spare socks he'd pulled from his daypack.

  She caught them. "Thanks. Next to you, no. Next to Lisa? And she was

  next to Lisa every day of her life." Jack nodded slowly.

  "Well. Lottie never behaved quote, normally, unquote. She was.

  defensive, antagonistic and so hard to get along

  with that her family
not unnaturally turned with

  immense relief to Lisa, who responded to the attention by getting better

  grades, going on to college and then choosing to return home to live.

  What about a tent?" she said to

  Bobby. "Just in case?"

  "There's my survival kit." "Perfect."

  "You be careful with it, woman. I just bought it new."

  He hauled at a bundle of what looked like fabric and

  sticks in a fluorescent orange stuff bag. Another stuff bag

  appeared; this one with a sleeping bag and a rolled foam pad inside it.

  Kate strapped the bags to the bottom of the backpack as Bobby rolled

  into the kitchen and ransacked the cup boards for his camp cooking gear.

  "In all that time, Lottie,

  who I don't think ever left the

  "Heads up."

  She looked up just in time to field the cooking kit,

  and tucked it into a side pocket. Bobby piled a dozen foil packages of

  prepackaged food in his lap and wheeled

  them

  "Well, Lottie had no life except what was lived in

  Lisa's shadow. Then along came Max Chaney, who for reasons unknown takes

  it into his head to fall in love

  with Lottie."

  "What!" Even Bobby was staring at her.

  "Eknaty Kvasnikof was working for Lottie

  He says they had something going." She shook her head. "They say there's

  someone for everybody. Maybe

  Max was for Lottie. But ..." She looked at Jack and grinned, a narrow,

  unamused little grin. "You knew this was coming, right? Lisa seduces Max

  away. Lottie befriends Eknaty Kvasnikof, and Lisa seduces him, too.

  Lisa puts their livelihood at risk shooting black bears for their

  bladders and walrus for their tusks and growing pot in felonious

  quantities and God knows what else. She puts every social relationship,

  every friend of the

  family at risk by screwing anything in the Park on two legs. You got any

  chocolate, Bobby?"

  Bobby looked offended. "It's one of the four major food groups, right?

  Of course I have something with chocolate in it. You want more?"

  "All you got." "Hershey bars?"

  Her head snapped up, and she looked at him hopefully. "I -can go farther

  on a Hershey bar than I can on a porterhouse steak. You got some?"

  He produced half a box from the freezer like a magician producing a

  rabbit from a hat.

  "Meanwhile, back at the Tale of Two Sisters," Jack prodded impatiently.

  Kate tucked the chocolate carefully into another pocket on the pack.

  "You know, Jack, if you treat someone like shit for long enough, pretty

  soon they're going to start looking around for the bottom of a shoe to

  scrape themselves off of. The reverse," she added, "holds true. If you

  treat someone like a saint for long enough, pretty soon they start

  believing their shit don't stink. That was Lisa all over. She could do

  no wrong. All you had to do was ask her.

  "I'm sure Lottie protested Lisa's behavior. I'm equally certain Lisa

  ignored those protests, when she didn't laugh them off. After everything

  I've heard this past week, I wouldn't put it past Lisa to have

  deliberately looked around for more and better ways to piss Lottie off.

  She enjoyed it." Kate reached for Jack's spare socks. She donned them on

  top of her own and the ones he'd taken off, and her feet barely fit back

  into her own boots. She shook her head, removed one pair, put her boots

  back on, and pulled the last pair of socks on over her boots. "It's been

  a way of life," she said, "for both of them. All the ego Lottie lost,

  Lisa got." She rose to her feet and took a few investigatory steps. Her

  boots felt snug but not tight. The wool of the socks stretched over the

  soles of her boots squeaked against the hardwood floor. "Hardly any of

  this was news, to me or to anyone else who's lived in the Park for the

  last twenty years."

  She looked at Jack. "Yes, in answer to your question, I did know who

  killed Lisa Getty, almost from the first moment of being told she had

  not been killed by Roger McAniff. I defy you to find someone in the Park

  who didn't."

  Jack whipped his head around to stare accusingly at Bobby. "It was

  pretty obvious," Bobby admitted.

  "You got a ski pole or something, Bobby?"

  "Right, Kate, I do so much skiing. How about a broom handle?"

  "If that's what you got, that's what I'll take." Reaching in back of the

  refrigerator, Bobby pulled out a broom and sawed off the handle with a

  serrated steak knife.

  Jack felt left out. Bobby and Kate seemed to under stand all, he

  nothing. He paced off a length, turned and bellowed, "Mind telling me

  why the hell we've spent all this time running our asses off over a

  billion square acres of wilderness trying to find some other poor

  schmuck who might have killed her?"

  "Lottie's dying, anyway." Kate looked up and met Jack's eyes and

  insisted, "Yes, spiritually, she is. She's lost her foil." Her voice was

  sad. "What happens when you look in the mirror and nothing looks back?

  She doesn't have anyone left to hate, and I think hate is all that kept

  her going. Except maybe for those few weeks when she and Max Chaney were

  an item. But Max Chaney was only a man. Lisa was her sister. Men might

  come and men might go, but for better or worse, Lisa was her sister."

  Kate looked up at Jack. "You bet I looked for some body else. I wanted a

  hundred other somebodies to point at and say maybe. I didn't.want to

  have to put Lottie in

  jail, and I didn't think she was a danger to anyone else."

  "She took a shot at you!"

  "Yes," Kate admitted. "But if she'd really wanted to kill me, she would

  have. Lottie hits what she aims at." "Like Martin," Bobby said.

  "Yes," Kate said, almost wry, "in the last six months I've had more than

  my share of people shooting at me without meaning to get a hit."

  "You've got to get into a different line of work," Bobby agreed.

  "Will you two stop making like Stan and Ollie and get serious!"

  "She did shoot Max Chaney, before you could talk to him," Bobby pointed

  out.

  "Yes." Kate nodded, her smile fading. "Yes, Max Chaney is dead. Lottie

  must have known it was only a matter of time before I found out she'd

  been seeing him."

  "You think he knew?"

  "I don't know." Kate shook her head. "I didn't know him. And now he's

  dead, and that is my fault."

  "You didn't pull the trigger."

  "I could have stopped her. I should have. I didn't." The sound of a

  distant helicopter crept in beneath the

  door. She shrugged into her parka, donned glove liners and gloves and

  hoisted the pack to her back. "Now I have to, before she hurts someone

  else."

  "Which way you going?" Bobby asked her.

  "Which way does Lottie usually take her climbing

  "Jesus, Kate. You could always wait for her to come

  border's on the other side of the Big Bump,

  Not the way she went up, anyway. The Canadian

  No." Kate shook her head. "I don't think she's coming

  the truth. I as good as told her so in the woods yesterday. She'll know

  that by now I've found out about C
haney.

 

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