He put the truck in four-wheel drive and stepped on the gas.
“Kurt! What in God’s name are you doing?”
He narrowed his eyes and gripped the wheel. “I’m going through.” The front tires hit the snow with a satisfying crunch, sending out eight-foot plumes on either side, just like on the commercial.
“Are you insane? We can’t make it through all that snow!”
“Just watch me, baby.” The truck roared, the snow sprayed in all directions, and then… they stopped. He stepped on the gas and the tires whined as they spun uselessly against packed snow. He glanced in the side mirror. They were buried up to the top of the wheel well.
“That certainly was brilliant. What do you do for an encore?”
Kurt hit the steering wheel with both hands. “False advertising, that’s what it is! They shouldn’t be allowed to show things on TV unless the average guy can do it! When we get home I’m suing the bastards!”
Vivian sighed and leaned back against the headrest. “I’m trapped in a truck with an idiot who believes what he sees in commercials. It would serve me right to freeze to death out here, because I knew you’d find a way to screw this up, Kurt Jarrett.”
“Nobody’s going to freeze to death.”
“Oh, no? You don’t have enough gas to run the heater all night.”
Kurt fought a sense of panic. “Someone will come along.”
“Kurt, the road’s not plowed. If this road’s not plowed, we can’t expect anyone to come along, now can we? Besides, it’s starting to get dark. People with any sense have gone home by now, so they don’t have to deal with the ice.”
“We’ll stay in the fifth wheel.” He felt better knowing that the fifth wheel was back there, even though the fifth wheel might have been the reason the truck didn’t fly through the snow, now that he thought about it.
“The fifth wheel is heated by electricity, remember? You have to hook up to an electrical supply. See any plugs? We could tear pieces off the furniture inside the fifth wheel and burn it, but I’ll bet you it’s not real wood. Burning it will probably give off gases that can kill you. So we have a choice of freezing to death or being asphyxiated. Which method do you prefer?”
“I think I hear something.”
Vivian blew out a breath. “You’re grasping at straws. There’s nobody out here but us, hanging out right here in the lovely white snowdrift. At least I have my vibrator. Maybe that’s how I’ll go out, making myself come until I croak. I wonder if anyone’s ever—”
“Shh! I think there’s a tractor working around that bend in the road.”
“Watch your language, bud. That sounded like an order.”
He was concentrating so hard on what might be a tractor that he didn’t let himself worry about whether he’d given her an order or not. “Don’t you hear it?”
She tilted her head to listen. “Now that you mention it, I do. Maybe we’re both delirious.”
“For crying out loud, Viv. We’ve been stuck here about five minutes.”
“Don’t get uppity with me, mister! You’re the one who’s put us in harm’s way, and don’t think Vivian’s about to forget this, either. Assuming that really is a tractor and we’re going to get out of here, you’ll have some big debts to pay to Vivian. Yes, you will.”
Kurt shuddered. Whenever Vivian started speaking about herself in the third person, he was in for it. He might be on sexual detention for the next month. But the noise of a motor got louder, so at least he wouldn’t end up frozen in a truck cab with a woman welded to her vibrator.
Finally the tractor appeared around the bend. Kurt lay on the horn.
Vivian covered her ears. “Was that really necessary? I think he could probably see us. We’re considerably bigger than a breadbox.”
“I wanted him to know we need help.”
“That’s obvious, isn’t it? Not many people sit here up to the fenders in snow because they intended to do that.” She leaned forward and peered at the tractor driver. “He looks sort of cute.”
“Vivian, do you remember what we read about Tanya Mandell’s sexual preferences?”
“You mean that she’s gay? Of course I remember.”
“That means you can’t be making eyes at any of the men in Porcupine.” Kurt had been quite relieved to find out Tanya Mandell’s sexual persuasion. Vivian couldn’t have sex with him while they were here, but she couldn’t have sex with any other guy, either.
She gave him a sly smile. “Then maybe I’ll hit on your niece.”
“That would not be a good idea.”
“Why not? I’ve always wondered if I could swing both ways. Now’s the perfect time to find out. For all you know, she’d welcome my attentions.”
“I know you’re only pulling my chain. You wouldn’t really put the moves on Ally.” He glanced over at her. “Would you?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll see what mood I’m in when we finally get to this godforsaken place. I might be in need of some extra entertainment, and like I said, I’ve never done it with a girl. That’s probably a gap in my education.”
Kurt clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t mind watching her try that sometime, but this wasn’t the right setting. Sometimes he didn’t know if Vivian was more of a liability than an asset. She was such a loose cannon.
But then he’d remember how she looked in one of her black leather dominatrix outfits and he couldn’t imagine splitting up. The population of Alaska was small, and the frontier atmosphere suited him. But that also meant he didn’t have a large pool of S and M folks to draw from. If he lost Vivian, he’d have to make another trek down to Vegas and hang around the S and M club there, knowing his chances of finding someone as wild as Viv were small. She was unique.
He knew she only stayed with him because that first night he’d told her that Madeline’s brain tumor would probably be fatal and he’d established a connection with Madeline’s heir. Vivian liked him okay, but without the lure of the Jarrett money, she’d be gone. He knew that, which was why this operation was so critical. He wanted the money, too, but he also wanted to hang on to Vivian.
The tractor pulled up alongside the truck, and Kurt rolled down his window. “Can you get us out of here?”
“Be glad to!” The guy showed off a set of startlingly white choppers. “But first let me clear the road so that once you’re free, you’ll be able to drive right on in to Porcupine.”
Vivian leaned across Kurt. “What’s your name?”
“I’m David Beedleman. I’m doing this as a favor to the town. I’m actually a sculptor. Just sold one of my pieces today, as a matter of fact.”
“Good to meet you, David!” Vivian said.
Kurt sensed way too much enthusiasm in Vivian’s voice. If he knew her, and he did, she was already planning a seduction. Time for some action on his part. “I’d like you to meet Tanya Mandell, the wildlife photographer,” he said. He wished he could have called her “the gay wildlife photographer,” but that would sound offensive.
David Beedleman looked impressed. “Wow. Awesome. I admire your work.”
“I admire yours, too,” Vivian said.
“But you haven’t seen it.”
She laughed. “I meant your work on the road.”
“Oh! Right! Let me get back to it. We’re burning daylight!” With another flash of those searchlight-bright teeth, he chugged away on his orange tractor.
“Why does Tanya have to be gay?” Vivian whined. “It’s not fair.”
“Keep in mind the kind of money we’re talking about,” Kurt said. “Pretending to be gay for a little while shouldn’t be that tough when you remember what’s on the line.”
“Tell me again. I’ll bet David Beedleman’s hung like a horse. I need to know all the reasons why I’m ignoring him.”
Kurt was used to this routine. She salivated over other guys all the time. He always used the promise of riches to bring her back. “Once we tap into the Jarrett fortune, you’ll be able to fly to Paris for lu
nch.”
Vivian closed her eyes. “More, more.”
“You’ll be able to buy a new Jag as soon as the old one needs washing. You’ll be able to have a villa in the south of France. And a private jet to take you there.”
Eyes still closed, Vivian napped her hands in frustration. “I want all that now.”
“It’s closer than ever before. We’ve waited months. Now we’re ready to make contact and start milking that cash cow.”
Vivian’s eyes snapped open. “Okay, so I’m gay. Happy, now?”
Chapter Seventeen
Mitch took to snowmobiling like a nerd takes to chaos theory. If he could spend all his time on a snowmobile, he might come to enjoy Alaska a little bit. Roaring along on that baby was like being on his Harley, only maybe a tiny bit better. That was tough for him to admit, because he loved his hog. But out here a guy could go full throttle and there wasn’t a thing to stop him if he stayed away from the trees.
Well, maybe it wasn’t quite that freewheeling. Before they left, Rudy had explained that he’d lead the way, because this time of year you had to be aware of avalanches. You didn’t want to start one or get in the way of one that was already started.
But other than that, the world was his snow-covered oyster. A helmet, a pair of goggles, and he was a happy man. On a snowmobile, he could outrun anything, even a bear. Or a pack of wolves. That’s what he was talkin’ about. A snowmobile was the equalizer in this country.
As luck would have it, Ally didn’t seem to care much for snowmobiling. He didn’t see her smile until they spotted a herd of caribou on the horizon. But when they tried to get near, the noise of the engines scared the animals away. She only pulled out her camera once, when they stopped on a rise to take in the view.
He’d scored a small victory then. During that short break she’d taken off her backpack and left it propped on the snowmobile. Then she’d snapped pictures of what was admittedly a breathtaking scene of snowy mountains with a frozen lake nestled in the foothills. During that time Mitch had slipped the transmitter into her backpack. If he ever needed to track her, he could follow the signal. He doubted she’d ever discover it.
As the light began to fade, they headed back toward Porcupine. Rudy suggested Ally ride with Mitch on the way home, so she climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
He’d given many rides on his Harley to many women. He’d been sexually involved with several of them. Yet he’d never felt such a visceral connection as when he and Ally rode together on that snowmobile.
Maybe it was the cold whipping at them. Where she pressed against him, he was warm, so warm. But it was more than that. She molded herself to his back as if she relished the perfect fit, too.
Women had different styles when it came to riding behind a guy on a bike. Some women held themselves apart, and some didn’t mesh, even though they tried. Ally meshed without even trying.
He made the trip home semi-aroused. Too bad Ally hadn’t loved the snowmobiling, because with her nestled against him, he felt as if he could drive until the gas ran out. The only reason not to do that was the condom that he’d tucked in the pocket of his pants and the possibility that the ride had eliminated the last of her resistance.
But as they turned down the main drag of Porcupine, his elation over the excellent snowmobile trip and the possibilities for the night ahead vanished. A silver truck pulling an ostentatious fifth wheel was parked in front of the Loose Moose. No doubt about it, Kurt Jarrett was in town.
He felt the change in Ally immediately. She went from relaxed and in tune with him to stiff and distant. In that moment he knew that she’d been expecting Kurt all along, and she hadn’t wanted him to know anything about it. She might have hoped he’d leave before Kurt showed up.
Dammit. She had been in contact with Kurt and Mitch hadn’t picked up on that. He felt the prick of failure. He’d monitored her calls, her mail, even her e-mail. Obviously not well enough. She, and possibly Kurt, had deliberately covered up whatever communication they’d had in the past few months.
Okay, the gloves were off now. She might have been playing sexy little games with him, but she hadn’t trusted him with the most critical information, that her stepuncle was due in Porcupine the minute weather permitted. She’d guessed correctly that he wouldn’t welcome that information.
“That’s a real fancy rig,” Rudy said as they parked the snowmobiles in front of the Top Hat.
There was no room to park in front of the Loose Moose. Kurt had pulled in parallel to the curb, taking up at least five diagonal parking spaces. Mitch thought that said something about the guy.
Ally hopped off the snowmobile the moment Mitch brought it to a stop. “I… think I know who might own that truck and fifth wheel,” she said, not looking at him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see if I’m right. Thanks for the ride, Rudy!” She hurried off, her steps eager.
Rudy gazed after her. “What’s that all about?”
“Long-lost relative, I expect.”
“You don’t look so happy about it, Mitch.”
Mitch glanced at him, thinking he could use some friends in this struggle. “Sometimes relatives take advantage.”
Rudy nodded. “I’ve known that to happen. So you think whoever drove this outfit into Porcupine might try to take advantage of Ally?”
“He might. Before Ally’s grandmother died, she warned me about this guy. She was afraid he might be a problem.”
Rudy seemed to puff up and grow bigger, like an animal under attack. And because Rudy was big to begin with, a puffed-up version was very scary. “He’d better not be a problem,” Rudy said. “No offense, Mitch, but I’m not sure you’re up to the challenge. I think you need me to handle this dude.”
“You know, Rudy, I’ll take all the help I can get. Thanks for the offer.”
“Just say the word, Mitch. I’m meaner than I look.”
“That’s good to know.” In that case, Rudy would be unstoppable. Mitch was glad to have the guy on his side.
“Don’t worry about the snowmobiles,” Rudy said. “You just go on in there and check out what’s happening. I’ll head over to the Top Hat. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“I appreciate that, Rudy.” Mitch climbed off the snowmobile. “And thanks for the ride. I loved it.”
“You ever ride a motorcycle?”
“Why would you say that?” Mitch didn’t want to admit to anything that would possibly get back to Ally.
“Just the way you sat the snowmobile. Like you were right at home. I thought maybe you’d straddled a hunk of machinery like this before, either one of them wave-runners or a motorcycle, didn’t know which.”
“You can’t be a teenager in America without taking a few motorcycle rides.”
“I guess that’s true. I rode my share. Anyway, you looked good out there.”
“Thanks.” But the compliment didn’t make up for his sense of failure where Ally was concerned. He hated playing catch-up. Mentally sweeping any cobwebs from his brain, he headed for the front door of the Loose Moose. He didn’t plan on getting a warm greeting from either Ally or Kurt. In fact, he expected to be as welcome as a turd in a punch bowl.
Betsy held forth behind the registration counter. Ally stood in front of it next to a man who was probably in his fifties. If the man was Kurt Jarrett, Mitch knew exactly how old he was—fifty-nine.
The guy was dressed like everybody else around here in a big quilted coat. But he didn’t have on boots, and Mitch noticed water stains on the bottom of his pants. His pricey shoes looked as if they’d taken a hit, too. According to what Mitch knew about Kurt, he was more comfortable in the city than in rural areas like Porcupine. It might be the single thing that Mitch had in common with him.
But the most interesting part of this gathering in the lobby of the Loose Moose was Kurt’s companion. Mitch hadn’t expected anyone else, and here was a woman, tall and slim with a blond braid hanging down her back. She also
wore a heavy parka and carried a large but narrow tote over her shoulder. Girlfriend? She didn’t act like one. No touching or familiarity between her and Kurt.
Ally—and Betsy, too, for that matter—seemed awestruck by this blond woman. They were so absorbed that they hadn’t even noticed him come in the door. Considering the blast of cold air that came along with him, that was saying something.
Oddly enough, it was the blonde who became aware of him first. She turned her head, glanced in his direction and smiled. “Hello, there,” she said.
He caught a quick flash of something predatory and sexual in her eyes. Or at least he thought he did. Why she’d be preying on a geek with glasses he didn’t know, unless she got excited about anybody who buttoned his shirts from the opposite side.
Ally glanced his way. If she didn’t look happy to see him, she at least looked resigned to his presence. “Mitchell, I’ve just had the most wonderful surprise! This is my uncle Kurt, and he’s brought with him, if you can believe it, Tanya Mandell.”
She said the name the way Mitch might have said Michael Jordan, as if she couldn’t believe this person was standing right next to her. Then she gestured toward Mitch. “This is Mitchell J. Carruthers, Jr. He’s… he was Grammy’s personal assistant.”
“Nice to meet you.” Mitch stepped forward and shook hands with Tanya first, and then Kurt. He got a strange reading from both of them. He’d never met a world-renowned wildlife photographer before, so maybe his expectations were off. But the sexual-predator thing seemed stronger now, and he’d have thought that someone with her reputation would have a classier approach.
Kurt might have been good-looking once, but he hadn’t aged particularly well. What could have been a boyish, even cherubic face thirty years ago had become pudgy. His eyes seemed too small and he’d acquired a couple of chins he probably wasn’t too happy about. Kurt didn’t look particularly happy, period.
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