Fire and ice Read Online Free PDF Page A

watch the plane and the body, see that no one interferes with them. All right?"
    Gruber, pausing in the act of jamming a fresh wad of bubble gum into his mouth, said blankly, "What?"
    "Nobody touches that plane until I get back. When the ambulance shows up, tell the paramedic he can load the body but to wait here for me."
    "What?"
    "I'm deputizing you for the duration. Nobody else touches anything." Liam looked over at Wy. "Nobody. Got that?"
    She looked up at that, and said with a trace of defiance, "I'll stay, too."
    "I thought you had to get in the air."
    "You just co-opted my spotter," she said, jerking her chin at Gruber. "And the Cub is my plane. I don't want anyone messing with her, either."
    Good, Liam thought. Should the subject arise later, for whatever reason, Gruber could testify that Wy had gone nowhere near the Cub while Liam was gone.
    "Goddammit, get the lead out!" the grizzled man said testily.
    "One minute." Liam buttoned the severed p-lead into an inside pocket and went to the terminal to find his bag. Another police officer would have carried his weapon on board, but Liam was always afraid it might accidentally discharge in the cabin and blow up the plane. He located his bag--the rest of his stuff was being shipped--strapped on his regulation Smith and Wesson automatic, and went back outside to find that the old man had pulled up to the door. Liam climbed into the passenger seat and the old man slammed the Suburban into first and they pulled forward with a jerk. Liam slapped a hand on the dash to brace himself against the man's careless shifting, not improved by the many and deep potholes on the road between the airport and town. It was a jolting, bouncing ride. "They ever grade this road?" he said above the noise.
    The man grunted. "Every week." He thrust out a ham-sized right hand. "Jim Earl. I'm the mayor of Newenham."
    "Oh." Liam took Earl's hand. Hizzoner had a firm, callused grip. "Liam Campbell."
    "I know. Thought that was you when I saw you in the Anchorage airport. We heard you were coming."
    "Oh," Liam repeated, and wondered what else they had heard. A crater the size of Copernicus loomed up in front of them. Jim Earl drove right through it. When he came down off the ceiling Liam wedged himself into the corner as firmly as he could, one hand gripping the back of the seat and the other pressing against the glove compartment. "What's the situation with the local cop? Should we maybe detour over there first, see if he needs backup?"
    "Shit no." Earl spit out the window, fortunately rolled down. In retaliation, a large blast of wet, cold air flooded the cab. "The way I hear it, Amy Pauk thought Nick was safe out fighting for his share of herring, so she invited Johnny Wassillie over for the morning. Johnny and Amy got this thing going," Earl added parenthetically. "They think nobody knows about it." He snorted again. It seemed to be his favorite expression. "Fine, fine, most of us could give a shit who's screwing who, and I'm all for a quiet life anyway. Only trouble is Nick's boat broke down and he had to limp back into the harbor early. Goes home to grab some grub, catches Nick and Amy in the sack, goes for his rifle, starts a little ventilating. Dumb bastard." The mayor shook his head. "It's too early in the day for that shit."
    Liam checked his watch. It was just coming up on six-thirty. As casually as he could, he said, "So it's a hostage situation? Are there any children involved? What kind of gun does Pauk have? Did he shoot his wife? Did he shoot Mr., uh, Mr.--"
    "Wassillie, Johnny Wassillie, and hell yes, he shot him. Only winged him, though." Jim Earl seemed regretful to report this. He tapped the scanner hanging beneath the dash. "On the way over to get you, I heard Roger Raymo report in to the dispatcher. That'd be our day shift officer, the one we got left," Earl added with some bitterness. "He said he'd managed to disarm Nick before he got around to shooting Amy." Earl grinned. "Scared