Read Online White Heat by Melanie Mcgrath - Free Book Online Page A

the Samwillie Brown case, that he owed her.
        'Can
she call you at the end of the day?' Interference again. Some technical problem
at the Autisaq end was jigging the connection; it was getting hard to hear the
kid.
        Derek
said: 'But everything's OK, right?'
        Joe
said: 'Business as usual.'
        They
signed off and Derek Palliser went back to his paperwork. Something about the
conversation with Joe began to gnaw at him. He had an idea that Edie was going
to bring up the Wagoner affair. Why else would she contact him?
        The
remainder of the morning passed uneventfully. At lunchtime, Derek went to the
store, bought three packs of instant ramen noodles and sat at his desk eating
them while Stevie went back home for lunch with his family. Afterwards,
Palliser made coffee and checked briefly on his lemmings. The weather had
perked up since the early morning; the sun now blazed through thin, high cirrus
and it was a balmy -25C, perfect for a trip out on the land.
        He'd see
if he could finish his paperwork in time to go for an evening ride to the
polynya at Inuushuck cove. A pod of beluga had holed up, taking advantage of
the clear water to rest before carrying on their travels. He'd seen bear tracks
there and was curious to know if the animal had returned.
        As he
was thinking, the door to the snow porch swung open and Derek could hear the
sound of boots being stamped to rid them of ice. A few moments later, Stevie
appeared.
        'Good
lunch, D?' He spotted the empty ramen packets and tried to change the subject.
'Turning out to be a great day.' He walked across the office and peered behind
the Venetian blinds. 'I thought, with the weather being so soft and all, we'd
set up the barbecue for supper. The kids would love it if you came too.'
        'Thanks.'
It was so obviously a mercy call. Stevie meant well, but being pitied by your
own constable, that sucked. 'I'm real busy with this research, though. Next
time, eh?'
        'Oh
sure, D.'
        
        
        They
passed the afternoon in administrative duties. At five, Stevie rose from his
desk and said he was going round to post the notices about wandering dogs and
knock on a few doors to spread the word. After he'd gone, Palliser went back to
his quarters on the southern side of the constabulary building, took off his
uniform, heaved on his Polartec all-in-one, pulled his sealskin suit over the
top, threw on a few pairs of mittens and some hats and made his way out to his
snowmobile.
        It
was one of those beautiful, crystal-clear Arctic evenings where everything
seemed picked out in its own spotlight. The sky was an unimpeachable blue and
before him stretched a fury of tiny ice peaks, unblemished by leads. In the
distance the dome-shaped berg, which had bedded into the surrounding pack for
the winter, glowed furiously turquoise.
        Derek
took his vehicle through the path he had cleared back in January when the ice
had finally settled. As he picked up speed, he felt first the freezing of his
eyelashes, then the hairs in his nose. Even with his snow goggles on, tiny ice
boulders began to accrete in the corners of his eyes. He enjoyed the feeling of
encroachment, of being willingly and haplessly besieged by nature. A raven flew
across his Night line and for the first time that day he felt content, even
happy. Out on the land he forgot the radio conversation he'd had with Joe
Inukpuk, the small-town stir-ups. He forgot Stevie Killik's well-meaning but
humiliating pity, forgot Misha and best of all, he forgot he was a cur, a mixed
blood, someone fashioned at the borders out of the scraps no one else wanted.
        He
reached the edge of the floe that marked the start of the open water of the
polynya. Here the ice began to feel wetter, not quite yet unreliable, but
deserving of caution and, leaving his snowbie, he proceeded on foot across
patchy floe running between leads. It was dangerous ground, but Derek