A Grave Denied

The trouble was, you could only undress a woman for the first time once. Fortunately, there were many, many women out there, and equally fortunately, many of them were happy to take a month’s romp at face value. Dandy Mike scorned to break hearts; he wanted whatever woman was in his life to have as good a time as he was, until it was time for both of them to move on. He prided himself that they almost always did. Oh, he’d had his failures, including one horrific experience when the girl of the month introduced herself to his mother and asked for help in pla

Not that Dandy ever wanted to have children. He shuddered at the thought. He didn’t know how Bobby and Dinah were going to manage, always supposing for some unfathomable reason they still wanted to sleep together at all, in that big open house with a rug rat crawling all over it.

Nope, no question about it, old Jack must have been half a bubble off, as they said in the contracting business.

Where had he heard that saying? Oh, yeah. Len Dreyer. On the deck of the Freya last September.

Which reminded him of his grievance. Kate had old Chopper Jim on the hook, no doubt about that, she was just waiting until it was good and set before reeling it in. Thought she had the job landed at the same time, probably.

No two ways about it, Dandy was going to have to solve this Dreyer thing on his own just to get Jim’s attention. Once he had it, why, Jim would just naturally see what an asset Dandy would be to the local constabulary. And hopefully Dandy would never have to work this hard again.

The information he’d collected from his ex-girlfriends hadn’t made much of an impression. His face screwed up in thought. Well. He’d done a lot of jobs with Dreyer. Maybe he could put together the list of names he’d scrounged from his girlfriends, and maybe put in dates when he’d worked with Dreyer. Then maybe he could go talk to the people who had employed the two of them. They’d call that something on television – constructing a timeline, that was it. He’d construct a timeline for old Len Dreyer, was what he’d do, charting all old Len’s activities leading up until the day he died. Dandy didn’t know what day Len had died, but he dismissed that as a minor problem.

He swung out of bed, refreshed, and took a quick shower. He was scrambling some eggs when there was a knock at his door. He opened it to find Stacy Shumagin on his doorstep.

Well, shoot. Len Dreyer was dead, wasn’t he? He could wait.

The white Cessna with the gold shield on the side touched down neatly in a perfect three-point landing. It rolled to a halt in front of George Perry’s hangar, who waited for the prop to stop turning before ambling over to open the door. “Hey, Kate.” He looked across Kate at Jim. “Hey, Chopin. Taking business away from me, taking the food out of the mouths of my children.”

Since George had no children, this was taken for the jest it was.

“Hey, George,” Joh

“Hey, squirt. How was Anchorage?”

“Educational,” Joh

Kate gri

George stepped back and she hopped out. “Well. From the expression on your faces I’d say it was a successful trip. So, who did kill Len Dreyer?”

Jim paused, one foot in the plane, one foot on the ground. “Oh, shit.” And it had been such a nice ride home.

Kate turned to him. “That’s right, you said you were picking up the autopsy report.”

He frowned at her. “Not in front of the civilians.”

“You people are just no fun at all,” George said, and ambled back into the hangar, where his Super Cub could be seen, cowling peeled back and engine exposed. Even from where they were standing, it gleamed with the care George lavished upon it.

The airstrip was dark with overnight rain, but not enough to be muddy. A low, thin layer of cotton-puff clouds was dissolving beneath the noon sun. There was a flash of white in the brush across the strip and Mutt gave a joyous bark and shot off in pursuit. Joh

“So?” Kate said to Jim.

“ME says Dreyer’s been dead about six months, give or take three in either direction. She’s going to do some more tests, but that’s her best guess and she’s thinking her final one. She says the deep-freeze effect delayed rigor and lividity and she doesn’t know if he was sitting, standing, or lying down when he caught it. Death resulted from massive trauma caused by a direct hit from a shotgun. From the stippling, she thinks the perp was less than four feet away.”

“Did you have a chance to talk to ballistics?”

“From the pattern, they think it might be one of the older models, maybe a Remington, maybe a Winchester, maybe old enough to be one of the discontinued models.”

“That might help. Might be fewer of them around.”

He shrugged. “You’re dreaming and we both know it. Who in the Park doesn’t have an old shotgun his father left him?”

“Me,” Kate said.

“Oh. Right. Forgot. Sorry.”

“Yeah, well.” Her turn to shrug. “So nothing we didn’t know before, or not much.”

“Nope.”

“Mind if I say this totally sucks?”

“Nope.” The sun broke through the clouds and he watched her lift her face into it and close her eyes. He wondered what she would look like naked in the sun, if she would turn her whole body into the light and warmth the way she did her face. He wanted to find out. He did most sincerely want to find out, preferably before his need robbed him of independent mobility. He cleared his throat. “Rein in that hairy Bigfoot of yours and we’ll drop her and the kid at Auntie Vi’s and go see if the cafe is open. Talk it out over coffee.”

She had been about to suggest Auntie Vi’s, but Auntie Vi would insist on sitting in on the deliberations. “I keep forgetting there’s a cafe now. A cafe in Niniltna. What’s next, a Wal-Mart?”

“Bite your tongue.”

She loitered deliberately until he had driven off. Before she whistled up Joh

He didn’t preen, but it was close. “Thanks.”

“Nice to see a well-maintained aircraft. Gives you faith in the airline, and the man who flies it.”

His head came up like an animal scenting a predator. “Gee, thanks, Kate. Nice of you to say.” He turned his head and looked at her. “Was there something else?”

“You used to hang with Gary Drussell, didn’t you? Do some hunting together every year?”

A brief pause. “Sure. What of it?”

“I was wondering,” she said in a casual tone that fooled nobody. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“Last time I saw Gary?” he said thoughtfully, wiping down an open-end box wrench that didn’t need it.

“Yeah.” She waited.

“Gosh, I’m not sure, Kate.” Minute attention was paid to the wrench. “I guess when he moved out last summer. Actually, I guess it was closer to spring, right after breakup.”