The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 3

by Nora Roberts

“It ain’t mine.”

  “Know whose it is?”

  “Don’t spend a lot of time looking at people’s ears. And I don’t want to spend any more time looking at your face.”

  “Nice to see you again, too, Bing.” He put the earring away. Bing had trimmed his beard an inch or so, Nate noticed and figured it was his warm-weather look. “February 1988. I can’t find anybody around who can tell me, absolutely, you were here through that month. Have found a couple who think maybe you weren’t.”

  “People should mind their own, like I do.”

  “Max was gone, and I hear you had a hankering, let’s say, for Carrie back then.”

  “No more than any other woman.”

  “Seems like a good time to have moved in on her some. You strike me as a man who doesn’t let opportunities go to waste.”

  “She wasn’t interested, so why waste my time? Shit. Easier to find one and pay the hourly rate. Maybe I went down to Anchorage that winter. There was a whore named Kate I had some transactions with. So’d Galloway. His business.”

  “Whoring Kate?”

  “Yeah. Dead now. Damn shame.” He shrugged it off as he ate. “Dropped dead of a heart attack between johns. They say, anyway.” He leaned forward. “I didn’t kill that dog.”

  “You say, anyway, and you seem more concerned with that than with two dead men.”

  “Men can take care of themselves better than an old blind dog. Maybe I was in the city some that winter. Maybe I ran into Galloway going through Kate’s swinging door. Didn’t mean a damn to me.”

  “You talk to him?”

  “I had other things on my mind. So did he. Poker game.”

  Nate lifted his eyebrows as if mildly surprised, mildly interested. “Is that so? You’re remembering a lot of details all of a sudden.”

  “You’re in my face all the damn time, aren’t you? Spoiling my appetite, so I’ve been thinking on it.”

  “You get in on the poker game?”

  “I went for a whore, not to gamble.”

  “Did he mention plans to climb No Name?”

  “He was yanking his pants up, Christ’s sake, and I was about to yank mine down. We didn’t chat. Said he was riding a streak, took a break to bang Kate and was heading back. Kate said something about the place being lousy with Lunatics, and that was fine with her. Business was good. Then we got down to it.”

  “Did you see Galloway again, after your business was concluded?”

  “Don’t remember seeing him.” Bing stabbed at his food. “Maybe he came in the bar, maybe he didn’t. I headed on up to see Ike Transky, trapper I knew used to have a place outside Skwenta, bunked with him a few days and did some hunting, little ice fishing. Came back here.”

  “Transky back you up on that?”

  Bing’s eyes went hard as agate beads. “Don’t need anybody to back up what I say. Dead now, anyway. Died in ’96.”

  Convenient, Nate thought as he walked out. The two people Bing named as potential alibis were dead or gone. Or you could turn the prism and look at it from a different facet.

  Stolen gloves, a stolen knife, both left near a dead dog. Property of a man who’d seen and spoken to Galloway.

  It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine Galloway going back to that game or stopping for a drink with friends.

  Guess who I just ran into on his way to bang Whoring Kate? Small world, Nate thought. Small, old world. If Bing was telling the truth, it might be the killer was worried Galloway had mentioned who else from Lunacy was playing poker and paying for whores.

  Nate decided to make a few stops, dangling his single piece of evidence, on the way to the station.

  Later in the day, he showed it to Otto.

  The deputy shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  A coolness had come between them, a stiff formality Nate regretted. But it couldn’t be helped.

  “I always thought the Maltese cross was more military than religious.”

  Otto never blinked. “Marines I served with didn’t wear earrings.”

  “Well.” As he had at every stop through the day, Nate put the earring back in his pocket, buttoned it.

  “It’s going around that you’re showing that thing to everybody. People are wondering why their chief of police is spending time on a lost earring.”

  “Full service,” Nate said easily.

  “Chief,” Peach said from her counter, “we’ve got a report of a bear in Ginny Mann’s garage, off Rancor. Her husband’s out with a hunting party,” Peach added. “She’s home alone with her two-year-old.”

  “Tell her we’re coming. Otto?”

  WHEN THEY PULLED ONTO the pitted lane a mile and a half north of town, Otto flicked a glance at Nate. “I sure hope you don’t plan to have me drive this thing around like a maniac while you lean out the damn window there and shoot warning shots over some bear’s idiot head.”

  “We’ll see what we see. What the hell is a bear doing in a garage?”

  “He’s not fixing a carburetor.” At Nate’s snicker, Otto grinned. Then sobered again as he remembered what was between them.

  “Somebody forgot and left the door open, most likely. They might have a can full of dog food or bird food in there. Or the dumbass bear went in to see if there was anything interesting.”

  When they pulled up in front of the two-story cabin with attached garage, Nate saw the garage door was indeed open. He didn’t know if the bear was responsible for the mess he could see inside or if the Manns just pitched things in there like it was the town dump.

  Ginny opened the front door. Her red hair was piled up on her head, and her loose overshirt and hands were splattered with paint. “He went around back. He’s been crashing around inside there for twenty minutes. I thought he’d just go on, but I was afraid he’d try to get through the door to the house.”

  “Stay inside, Ginny.” Nate ordered.

  “You get a look at him?” Otto called out.

  “I got a look at him through the front when he lumbered up.” Behind her there was the sound of insane barking and the wail of a toddler. “I had the dog inside and was upstairs working in the studio when Roger started carrying on. Woke the baby. I’m about to go crazy from the noise. Brown bear. Didn’t look full-grown but big enough.”

  “Bears are curious,” Otto commented as they checked their rifles and started around the side of the garage. “If he’s a young one, he was likely just poking around and he’ll run off quick enough when he sees us.”

  Around back, Nate could see the Manns had roped off a patch of ground for a garden. Apparently the bear had tromped through it coming or going and had spent some time beating up a plastic crate full of newspapers and mail-order catalogs.

  Nate scanned and then gestured when he spotted a brown rump through the trees.

  “There he goes.”

  “Better give him a little scare, get him running. Discourage him from coming back.” Otto aimed the rifle skyward, fired two rounds. And Nate watched, with some amusement, as the bear hustled its fat rump and ran.

  He stood watching its progress beside a man who was on his list of suspects.

  “That was easy enough.”

  “More often than not, it is.”

  “Sometimes it’s not. Meg and I had to take one down the other night at her place.”

  “Is that what got at her dog? I heard her dog got clawed up some.”

  “Yeah. It would’ve gotten at us, too, if we hadn’t killed it first. Somebody baited the house.”

  Otto’s eyes narrowed into slits. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about somebody hanging meat, fresh, bloody meat, in thin plastic bags, on Meg’s house.”

  Otto’s mouth went tight, then he turned sharply away, paced off several steps. Nate rested his hand on the butt of his weapon. “You’re asking if it was me?” Otto strode back, stood toe-to-toe with Nate. “You want to know if I’d do something that cowardly, that vicious? If I’d
do something that could get two people ripped to pieces? And one of them a woman?”

  He jabbed his finger into Nate’s chest. Twice. “I’ll take you tossing my name into the hat when it comes to Galloway, even when it comes to Max. It galls me you’d toss it in there over Yukon, but I swallowed it, but I’ll be goddamned if I’ll take this. I was a Marine. I know how to kill a man if I need to. I know how to do it quick, and I know plenty of places I could get rid of a body where nobody on this earth would find it.”

  “That’s what I figured. So I’m asking you, Otto, because you know the people around here, who’d stoop that low?”

  He trembled. The rage was still on him, Nate could see. He had the rifle in his hand, but even in temper, it was pointed at the ground. “I don’t know. But he doesn’t deserve to live.”

  “The earring I showed you belongs to him.”

  Interest won over the anger in his eyes. “You found it out at Meg’s?”

  “No. In Galloway’s cave. So here’s what we’re going to think about. Who did Galloway like and trust who could handle a winter climb? Who gained something by his death? Who wore this?” he added, patting his pocket. “Who considered himself a badass back then, and could leave town for a couple of weeks without anyone commenting?”

  “You’re letting me back in?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go tell Ginny the coast is clear.”

  IT WAS A TOSS-UP who was more surprised when Meg swung by to pick up her dogs. She herself or Charlene, who was caught red-handed feeding the dogs table scraps.

  “Didn’t see why it should go to waste. These dogs hate being penned up.”

  “It’s just until Bull’s fully healed.”

  They stood there, awkwardly, while the dogs ate.

  “Do you know what got at him?” Charlene asked after a moment.

  “Bear.”

  “Well, God. He’s lucky he only got a few scrapes.” Charlene crouched and made kissing noises at Bull. “Poor baby.”

  “I always forget you like dogs. You never keep one.”

  “I’ve got enough to look after around here.” She glanced over, and Meg’s ring caught the sun and shot light. “I heard about that, too.”

  She gripped Meg’s hand, pulling it up under her nose as she rose. “Joanna at the clinic got a load of it, told Rose and Rose told me. Seems I might have heard about it from you. He really stepped up to the plate, didn’t he?”

  “Lucky me.”

  “Yeah, lucky you.” Charlene let Meg’s hand go. She started to walk away, stopped. “Lucky him, too.”

  Meg said nothing for a moment. “I’m waiting for the shot.”

  “No shot. You look good together, better together than you look otherwise. If you’re going to go and marry somebody, it might as well be somebody you look good with.”

  “How about somebody who makes me happy.”

  “That’s what I mean.”

  “Okay. Okay,” Meg repeated.

  “Um. Maybe I could give you a party. Like an engagement party.”

  Meg dipped her hands into the pockets of her jean jacket. “We’re not going to wait very long. Doesn’t seem like we’d need a party when we’ll only be engaged about a month.”

  “Well. Whatever.”

  “Charlene,” Meg said before she could leave. “Maybe you could help with the wedding thing.” She watched pleasure, and surprise, run over Charlene’s face. “I don’t want fancy, just something out at the house, but I want a party with it. A big one. You’re good at putting those things together.”

  “I could do that. Even if you don’t want fancy, you need good food, lots of liquor. And it should be pretty. Flowers and decorations. We could talk about it.”

  “All right.”

  “There’s . . . there’s something I have to do now. Maybe we could talk about it tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s good. Maybe since they’ve just eaten, I could leave the dogs here a little while, pick up some supplies and things.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  Charlene went in quickly before she could change her mind. She went straight up to John’s room, knocked.

  “It’s open.”

  He sat at his cramped, little desk but stood when she came in. “Charlene. Sorry, I’m grading papers. I really need to get this done.”

  “Don’t go.” She leaned back against the door. “Please don’t go.”

  “I can’t stay, so I have to go. I’ve turned in my resignation. I’m helping Hopp find a replacement for me.”

  “There’s no replacement for you, John, whatever you think about . . . about the other men. I’ve been bad to you. I knew you loved me, but I didn’t let myself care. I liked knowing there was somebody who was there, whenever I needed him, but I didn’t let myself care.”

  “I know. I know that all too well, Charlene. I’ve finally got the belly to deal with it.”

  “Please let me say this.” Eyes pleading, she crossed her hands over her breasts. “I’m scared, and I’ve got to get it out before I run out of courage. I liked having men want me, seeing that look in their eyes. I liked taking them to bed, especially the young ones. So I could believe, in the dark, when their hands are on me in the dark, I haven’t seen forty yet.”

  She touched her face now. “I hate getting older, John, seeing new lines in the mirror every day. As long as men want me, I can pretend the lines aren’t there. I’ve been scared and angry a long time, and I’m tired.”

  She took a step forward. “Please don’t go, John. Please don’t leave me. You’re the only one since Pat I could rest with, feel quiet with. I don’t know if I love you, but I want to. If you stay, I’ll try.”

  “I’m not Karl Hidel, Charlene. And I can’t settle anymore. I can’t sit in here with a book for comfort when you’ve taken someone else to bed.”

  “There won’t be anyone else. There won’t be other men, I swear. If you’ll just stay and give me a chance. I don’t know if I love you,” she said again, “but I know thinking about being without you’s breaking my heart.”

  “That’s the first time in more than sixteen years you’ve ever come in this room and talked to me. Said anything real to me. It’s a long time to wait.”

  “Too long? Tell me it’s not too long.”

  He crossed to her, put his arms around her, his cheek to the top of her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think either one of us knows. So, I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  NATE PINNED HIS BADGE on a khaki shirt that carried the Lunacy PD symbol on the sleeve. He’d been informed by her honor the mayor that May Day required a more official look.

  When he strapped on his gun, Meg made a long mmmmm. “Cops are so sexy. Why don’t you come back to bed?”

  “I’ve got to go in early. Should already be there. Including the participants, we’re expecting close to two thousand in town today. Hopp and Charlene did some major PR.”

  “Who doesn’t love a parade? All right, since you’re being so official, give me ten and I’ll fly you in.”

  “It’ll take longer for you to do your system’s checks and fly there than it will for me to drive it. Besides, you can’t get ready in ten.”

  “Can too, especially if somebody goes down and makes the coffee.”

  Even as he looked at his watch and sighed, she dashed into the bathroom.

  When he came back with two mugs, she was pulling her red shirt over a white scoop-necked tee. “Consider me amazed.”

  “I know how to budget time, cutie. This way we can have some wedding talk on the way in. I managed to pull the plug on Charlene’s notion of renting a pergola and covering it with pink roses.”

  “What’s a pergola?”

  “Beats me, but we’re not having it. She’s majorly bummed because she claims it’s not only romantic, but essential for the wedding photos.”

  “It’s nice that the two of you are getting along.”

  “It won’t last, but it makes life marginally easier for the time bein
g.” She gulped down coffee. “Two minutes for the face,” she said and scooted back into the bathroom.

  “She and Big Mike have their heads together on this behemoth wedding cake. I’m giving her her head there. I like cake. We’re tangling about the flowers. I’m not being buried in pink roses, but we’ve agreed on a few things. Like getting a professional photographer. Snapshots are great, but this is a monumental deal, so we go with a pro. Oh, and she says you have to get a new suit.”

  “I already have a suit.”

  “She says you have to have a new one, and it has to be gray. Steel gray, not dove gray. Or maybe it was dove gray and not steel gray. I don’t know, and I’m tossing you to the wolves on that one, Burke. You argue with her.”

  “I can buy a suit,” he muttered. “I can buy a gray suit. Do I get to pick out my own underwear?”

  “Ask Charlene. There, done. Let’s go, aren’t you ready yet? You’re holding up the parade.”

  She laughed when he made a grab for her and let him chase her down the stairs.

  They were at the door when he stopped, when it clicked into place for him, when that jolt of memory became knowledge. “Snapshot. Goddamn.”

  “What?” Meg pushed at her hair as he charged back upstairs. “You want a camera? Men. Jesus. And they’re always harping about women not being on time.”

  She trudged back upstairs, then stared in astonishment while he dragged her albums and boxes of photos from the closet to dump them on the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s in here. I remember. I’m sure of it.”

  “What’s in there? What are you doing with my pictures?”

  “It’s in here. Summer picnic? No, no . . . campfire shot. Or . . . damn it.”

  “Just a minute here. How do you know there’s a campfire shot in there or summer picnics or anything else?”

  “I snooped. Scold me later.”

  “You can count on it.”

  “The earring, Meg. I saw it when I was looking through here. I know I saw it.”

  She shoved him aside so she could grab a stack. “Who was wearing it? Who did you see?” She scanned pictures, tossed them out like toy airplanes.

  “Group shot,” he murmured, straining to bring it into focus. “Party shot. Holiday . . . Christmas.”