Read Online A deeper sleep by Dana Stabenow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dana Stabenow
Tags: Fiction, General, detective, thriller, Suspense, adventure, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery, Mystery Fiction, Political, Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, Fiction - Mystery, Mystery And Suspense Fiction, alaska, Crime thriller, Shugak; Kate (Fictitious character), Women private investigators - Alaska, Suspense & Thriller, 19th century fiction, Indians of North America - Alaska
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shopping."
Bobby sat back from the circular console that surrounded the central post of the A-frame as the strains of the Beatles' raunchy request for "Money" rocked out of the speakers. "Kate!" he bellowed. "How the hell are you?"
"Fine!" she yelled back, and reached around him to turn the volume down. Mutt galloped forward and elbowed Kate unceremoniously to one side so she could rear up and put both front paws on Bobby's shoulders.
His chair rolled back into the console with a sound thump. "Goddamn, Shugak!" Bobby roared, trying without success to fend off the tongue bath. "The house is fucking filled with fucking wolves again!"
"Goddamn!" Katya said, bouncing excitedly up and down in Kate's arms. "Goddamn!"
An ethereal blonde smiled at Kate from her seat in front of a computer on the other side of the console. "Hey, Kate."
"Hey, Dinah."
"How goes the battle?"
Kate's smile was slow and wicked. "I'm winning."
Dinah laughed. "Good to know."
"Be good to know what the hell you people are talking about even half the time," Bobby said. "Down!" he said to Mutt. She dropped down on all fours and laughed up at him, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. He looked at Kate. "Unhand my child!"
"Daddy!" Without a moment's hesitation, Katya launched herself into space. In a well-practiced choreography, Mutt dodged out of the way so the latest aspirant to the Flying Wallendas could land neatly on Bobby's lap.
"One of these days you're going to miss," Kate said when her heart starting beating again.
Katya, a brown-faced, blue-eyed, curly-headed cherub, beamed at her. "Kate!"
"Yeah, that's me, kid, just several years older than when I walked in."
Kate gave Bobby a once-over, from his tightly curled cap of black hair, to the sharp angles of his cheekbones, his wide, firm-lipped mouth that seemed to be fixed in a permanently evil grin, to the broad shoulders and strong arms, to his muscular thighs that ended just below the knees.
He almost purred beneath her approving gaze, and she almost laughed out loud. "You are such a babe," she said.
"Why, thank you, Kate. You hear that, Dinah? About me being such a babe?"
"I heard. I'm considering the source."
Kate went for the coffeepot, poured mugs all around, and carried them to the living room.
Bobby Clark had acquired his land in a timely purchase just before d-2 had kicked in in 1980, forty acres on Squaw Candy Creek not far from where it flowed into the Kanuyaq and only a few miles from Niniltna. He'd built an A-frame with easy access for his wheelchair in mind (one big room, clockwise from upper left the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room, floor clad in tongue-and-groove ash, and a central pillar up which snaked innumerable cables linking the electronics console that took up the center of the house to the 212-foot tower out back.
Bobby was the NOAA observer for the Park, reporting twice daily to NOAA and the National Weather Service and as needed on existing flying conditions to the FAA. This brought him in a very small amount of income, which led the curious to wonder how he financed his lifestyle. This included not only a wife and a daughter, but also a new truck every three years and a Piper Super Cub, as well as the stable of snow machines and four-wheelers required of any Park rat worthy of the name, all of them modified for use by a man who had left both his legs below the knee in Vietnam. The troopers out of Tok and Cordova had paid serious attention to Bobby when he had first appeared in the Park, but he had been scrupulous in giving them no reason whatsoever to continue this surveillance, and after a while they had gone away. After a while longer, the curiosity had gone away as well.
Attention resurfaced when Park Air went on the air, but Bobby was well able to afford the kind of devices that would deflect official notice from the FCC. Bobby had also from
Bobby sat back from the circular console that surrounded the central post of the A-frame as the strains of the Beatles' raunchy request for "Money" rocked out of the speakers. "Kate!" he bellowed. "How the hell are you?"
"Fine!" she yelled back, and reached around him to turn the volume down. Mutt galloped forward and elbowed Kate unceremoniously to one side so she could rear up and put both front paws on Bobby's shoulders.
His chair rolled back into the console with a sound thump. "Goddamn, Shugak!" Bobby roared, trying without success to fend off the tongue bath. "The house is fucking filled with fucking wolves again!"
"Goddamn!" Katya said, bouncing excitedly up and down in Kate's arms. "Goddamn!"
An ethereal blonde smiled at Kate from her seat in front of a computer on the other side of the console. "Hey, Kate."
"Hey, Dinah."
"How goes the battle?"
Kate's smile was slow and wicked. "I'm winning."
Dinah laughed. "Good to know."
"Be good to know what the hell you people are talking about even half the time," Bobby said. "Down!" he said to Mutt. She dropped down on all fours and laughed up at him, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. He looked at Kate. "Unhand my child!"
"Daddy!" Without a moment's hesitation, Katya launched herself into space. In a well-practiced choreography, Mutt dodged out of the way so the latest aspirant to the Flying Wallendas could land neatly on Bobby's lap.
"One of these days you're going to miss," Kate said when her heart starting beating again.
Katya, a brown-faced, blue-eyed, curly-headed cherub, beamed at her. "Kate!"
"Yeah, that's me, kid, just several years older than when I walked in."
Kate gave Bobby a once-over, from his tightly curled cap of black hair, to the sharp angles of his cheekbones, his wide, firm-lipped mouth that seemed to be fixed in a permanently evil grin, to the broad shoulders and strong arms, to his muscular thighs that ended just below the knees.
He almost purred beneath her approving gaze, and she almost laughed out loud. "You are such a babe," she said.
"Why, thank you, Kate. You hear that, Dinah? About me being such a babe?"
"I heard. I'm considering the source."
Kate went for the coffeepot, poured mugs all around, and carried them to the living room.
Bobby Clark had acquired his land in a timely purchase just before d-2 had kicked in in 1980, forty acres on Squaw Candy Creek not far from where it flowed into the Kanuyaq and only a few miles from Niniltna. He'd built an A-frame with easy access for his wheelchair in mind (one big room, clockwise from upper left the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room, floor clad in tongue-and-groove ash, and a central pillar up which snaked innumerable cables linking the electronics console that took up the center of the house to the 212-foot tower out back.
Bobby was the NOAA observer for the Park, reporting twice daily to NOAA and the National Weather Service and as needed on existing flying conditions to the FAA. This brought him in a very small amount of income, which led the curious to wonder how he financed his lifestyle. This included not only a wife and a daughter, but also a new truck every three years and a Piper Super Cub, as well as the stable of snow machines and four-wheelers required of any Park rat worthy of the name, all of them modified for use by a man who had left both his legs below the knee in Vietnam. The troopers out of Tok and Cordova had paid serious attention to Bobby when he had first appeared in the Park, but he had been scrupulous in giving them no reason whatsoever to continue this surveillance, and after a while they had gone away. After a while longer, the curiosity had gone away as well.
Attention resurfaced when Park Air went on the air, but Bobby was well able to afford the kind of devices that would deflect official notice from the FCC. Bobby had also from
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