Nothing gold can stay (22 page)

She couldnt speak.

“I told you you could do anything you wanted, anything at all, so long as you kept on the inside of the door.

Her tongue felt swollen in her mouth.

He sighed. “What am I going to do with you?

He sounded for all the world like an overindulgent parent faced with the dilemma of a spoiled child.

“Come here, he said.

He had almost reached her when she realized she was still holding the bottle of Windex. She raised it and squirted him in the face. He yelled and clawed at his eyes.

She turned and ran.

Nenevok Creek, September 4

The Cessna touched down smoothly, jolting only a very little on the gravel surface of the airstrip, and rolled to a halt just short of the Cub parked at the end. Liam was standing to one side. Prince cut the engine and opened the door. “Good to see youre all right.

“Good to be all right.

“What happened? This as Wy came down the path.

“Throttle cable broke on approach.

“Jesus, Prince said. “Thats a new one on me.

“Me, too.

Trooper poise was quickly replaced by pilot curiosity. “Whatd you do?

“Pulled the carb heat, trimmed the nose. Cut the engine on final.

“A deadstick landing.

“Yeah. Wy said it laconically, like she did deadstick landings every day and twice on Sundays.

“Impressive, Prince said, trying not to sound grudging. Nothing that exciting had ever happened to her in the air. “So, you spent the night up at the cabin.

Something fizzled in the air between Liam and Wy, some emotion to which Prince was not privy. It seemed there had been trouble in paradise the night before. It wasnt anything she was going to get into if she could help it. “I can take you both out in the Cessna.

“Ill stay with my plane, Wy said.

“Like hell, Liam said.

“You cant, Prince said.

“Why not? Wy said to Prince.

“Youve got a problem back in Newenham.

“What?

“You know that boy you adopted?

Wys eyes widened and she came the rest of the way down the path in four quick strides. “Is Tim all right? Has something happened to him?

“Far as I know hes fine. His mother isnt.

Wys lips tightened. “Im his mother.

“His birth mother, then, Prince said. “Shes got a court order allowing her to see him. Limited, supervised visitation. She cant be alone with him, but she can see him. She looked at Liam. He met her eyes without expression. She looked back at Wy. “For the moment, the boy is out of town. Up at a fish camp on the Nushagak, I hear tell from the friends youve got staying at your house.

Wy nodded. “Yes, she said through suddenly stiff lips.

Prince looked at Liam. “You find anything more out here?

Liam shook his head. “I dont know. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a Ziploc bag.

Prince took it and held it up to the light. It held half a dozen round green beads. “So?

“Theyre jade, I think, he said.

“So? she repeated.

“So a bunch of jade was stolen from the post office on Kagati Lake. A clock, animal carvings, bookends.

“A necklace?

“They didnt say, and I didnt know enough to ask.

Prince thought it over. “There were a bunch of beads inside the cabin, werent there?

“Yeah.

“And some stuff, some bracelets, barrettes, like that, made out of beads.

“Yes.

“So this could have been part of Rebecca Hanovers supply.

“Could have been.

“Something to tell you, too, she said.

“What?

“The Crime Lab called. The splatter pattern on Kvichaks Winchester matches the splatter pattern on Mark Hanovers chest.

She handed back the plastic bag, and he pocketed it. “Thats that, then.

“Looks like.

“No shell casings, though, no other real physical evidence.

“No. No sign of the wife?

“No. He sighed. “We followed everything that even remotely resembles a trail for at least a mile this time. We yelled every hour for her all night. No answer. Nothing.

“Did you look for a grave?

Wy looked at Liam, away.

“Yeah, he said. “We looked for a grave.

Prince thought. “How about the creek?

He pulled his cap from his head and whacked it against his leg. “I followed it downstream as far as I could. Its too low this time of year for anything the size of a body to float down it.

“Pretty big lake it ends in.

“Yeah. We should do a flyover on the way back, just in case SAR missed her.

“Always supposing shes a floater. She could have got wedged in a downed tree, something like that.

“Yeah. He put his cap back on. “Were going to need confessions if we want to clear this case.

“Yes. And wed better get a move on if we want to get back to Newenham today. Storm coming in. Big low moving up out of the Bering. The Weather Service has small-craft advisories out. Theyre talking an early freeze, maybe even snow.

Liam looked at the sky. The morning had started out sunny, but a bank of clouds, thick and low, was creeping up on the sun. There was a bite in the stiff little breeze whipping across the airstrip, too. Still, “Snow before Labor Day?

She shrugged. “Hey. Its Alaska. Worse, its Bristol Bay.

Wy nosed the Cub into the prevailing wind and tied it down against her return with a new throttle cable. The Cessna was in the air ten minutes later, and Prince got on the radio to let the world know that Liam and Wy were found and well. Neither of the rescuees looked especially happy about it, but their friends took up the slack. “So, home again, home again, jiggety-jig, she said, hanging up the mike.

“Just step on it, Liam said. From the backseat Wy said nothing.

“Stepping on it, Prince said, and did.

Newenham, September 4

Jim, who like most ham operators knew somebody everywhere he went, had rustled up a truck, a Chevy Scottsdale, brown and tan but mostly rust, with brand-new outside rearview mirrors and tires, and a Jesus fish eating a Darwin fish glued to the tailgate.

Jo pointed at the decal. “Do you suppose the Christians know that that decal only shows Darwin in action? Bigger fish eats littler fish?

“I dont think Christians waste much time thinking, Jim said, climbing in behind the wheel.

“I beg to differ, Bridget said tartly. “We Christians are thinking all the time. Mostly were thinking sad thoughts about our non-Christian brothers and sisters who are going straight to hell when they die.

Luke laughed.

So did Jim. “My mistake.

Honors about even, the journey to Bills was accomplished in dignified silence. “Little nip in the air, Jim said, holding the door for Bridget. He looked toward the southwest. “Storm coming in, looks like.

Bridget tucked her arm in his. “Good day for a hot toddy next to a roaring fireplace.

The south and west horizon were filling up with a rapidly advancing wall of dark clouds. “Hope they dont get caught out in that, Jo said.

“Looks nasty, Luke agreed. His hand was warm on her shoulder. She saw Jim looking at it and the hand became somehow heavier.

One-thirty on a Saturday afternoon, and it was after fishing season and before hunting season really began. Just enough reason for the party to get started early, and it had. Kelly McCormick and Larry Jacobson had drawn up chairs next to a booth filled with three giggling young women. Jim Earl, the mayor of Newenham, and four of the five sitting members of the town council were deciding city business at another. The jukebox was playing “Fruitcakes, and although no one was skating naked through the crosswalkyetJimmy Buffet would have felt right at home.

They grabbed the last booth and settled in, only to have Dottie bellow from behind the bar, “You want something, get your butts up here and get it! Not you, she said to Molly Shuravaloff.

“But Dottie

“Dont you but Dottie me, girl, youre lucky I let you step inside the door. You ought to be home being a comfort to your mother in her old age.

“Shes forty-seven, Dottie!

“Whatever.

Molly sulked back to her booth, where Mac McCormick put an arm around her waist and offered her a surreptitious sip from his beer.

They conferred, and Luke and Bridget went up to the bar to order, returning with hot buttered rums all around. Luke sipped and closed his eyes. “God, whats in this?

Jo tasted and choked at the resultant wave of heat that seemed to envelop her sinuses. “Besides a fifth of rum?

“Brown sugar, Jim said.

“And powdered sugar, Bridget said.

“Ice cream? Luke said.

Jo, still gasping for air, croaked, “Butter. And rum. A whole lot of rum.

The second sip went down better and faster than the first, and when Dottie shouted that their burgers were ready, it was time for a refill. By then everyone had a pleasant glow, marred only somewhat when a burly man came in the door and saw them. He whipped off gold-framed aviator sunglasses to reveal dark, frowning eyes in a blunt-featured face. Tiny blood vessels turned his nose and his cheeks a deep, angry red. His hands were big-knuckled and scarred, dangling at the end of arms too bulky with muscle to hang straight. He shouldered his way across the floor with an impatient, slightly bowlegged stride, taking no notice of the lesser mortals in his path. He looked, on approach, like a cross between George Patton and King Kong, with a luxuriant mustache that sported evidence of past meals.

Jo saw him first. “Finn, she said.

He looked at Jim from beneath the brim of a cap advertising the Reno Air Show. “Your people still up?

“And you are? Jim said.

“Finn Grant, Jo told him, and to Finn said, “Theyre on their way home.

“Storm coming in, he said to Jim. “I dont want to have to run no patrol out after pilots who dont know how to come in out of the rain.

“Finn is a member of the Civil Air Patrol, Jo told Luke and Bridget. “Hes made a career out of not finding people who have gotten themselves lost in the Bush.

Finns face darkened to the color of the clouds in the sky outside. “Fuck you, Dunaway, he said, and stamped to the bar.

Jim looked at Jo. “My, my, you just endear yourself to everyone who comes down the pike, dont you? What did you do, break the story that his girlfriend is sleeping with his uncle?

Jo fluttered her eyelashes. “You do say the sweetest things, Mr. Wiley, suh.

The aroma wafting up from the cheeseburgers became too much to resist and they tucked in. Plates polished clean down to the shine, a third toddy seemed like something even Jim and Jo could agree on, and Luke went to fetch them. Bridget said, “What was Mr. Finn so upset about, Jo? Is Jim right? Did you write a story about him?

Jo, in that state of well-being that always follows the ingestion of equal amounts of alcohol, salt and deep-fryer fat, said with an expansive wave, “Finn Grants the name, losing clients is his game.

Jim had to grin. Luke returned with the drinks and Bridget demanded further explanation. Jo fortified herself with a sip, burning her tongue in the process, and launched into what was one of her favorite stories. “Dagfinn Grant is a pilot, the owner and operator of a nice little air taxi service right here in Newenham. Hes quite the businessman: a member of the Anchorage Chamber of Commerce and the Rotary Club, an old hunting buddy of ex-governor Hickfield, and hes been a guide since Alaska was a territory.

“Anyway, he makes his living flying people in and out of the Bush. He takes them into the Four Lakes for fishing and the foothills of the Alaska Range for hunting. He flies them up to the Togiak Peaks for that roughneck climbing people do, you know, the ones who actually enjoy hanging from a ridge by their fingernails while they dangle over a one-thousand-foot abyss.

“Or say they do, Luke said, grinning.

“Or say they do, Jo agreed, grinning back. Lukes handsome face had begun to take on a rum-enhanced allure that made her think of the couch in Wys living room with increasing anticipation. “In all fairness, it must be said that old Finn makes a pretty good living out of the air taxi business, so much so that he has to buy additional planes and hire on more pilots. Pretty soon hes running things more from the ground than he is the air. Until one day...

“What? Luke said.

“Dont encourage her, Jim said.

Bridget looked from Jo to Jim and back again.

“One day, Jo said, “not long ago, Finn was sitting in his office, all by his lonesome. I just want to point out, she added parenthetically, “that he was by himself. Nobody else around.

“Nobody else to blame, we got it, Jim said.

“Hush up, Bridget told him. “Go on, Jo.

“The phone rang. It was one Eric Silverthorne, who was calling on behalf of himself and his brother Rodney, and their wives Stella and Anna, respectively. They had just gotten off the jet from Anchorage and they wanted to go caribou hunting north of the Togiak Peaks. His name had been given them as a recommendation by the ticket agent at the Alaska Airlines terminal; could he oblige?

Jo drank some more of that lovely toddy. She had a full stomach from the burger, a warm glow from the rum, Wy was safe and on her way home, the threat of Jim Wileys disclosures were on hold, Lukes face was becoming increasingly beautiful across the table, and she was truly on vacation for the first time in three years, no story to research and write, no crime scenes to inspect, no politicians pulling in illegal campaign contributions, nothing at all to do, in fact, except enjoy herself. She was practically dizzy with delight, and she was definitely off the chain.

“As I said, Mr. Dagfinn Grant was all by his lonesome when his phone rang because all of his planes were in the air and all of his pilots were with them. He didnt have a plane available to transport a hunting party of four and all their luggage. He scurried around and managed to rustle up an old Cessna Skywagon belonging to a friend, which always surprised me because it is my understanding that Finn Grant has no friends. The Silverthornes arrive and arent kept waiting more than two, three hours before Finn is ready to launch.

“So he takes them up to the Togiak Peaks, and manages to wedge the Skywagon into that little gravel strip west of Weary River, unloads passengers and crew, and leaves them, with the understanding that hes supposed to pick them up in ten days.