Sarah Andrews - In Cold Pursuit

He met the Boss coming the other way. “Oh, there you are, Dave,” he said. “I left a message for you at Building 17. Did you get it?”

“No, sir. What’s up?”

“You asked if you could help me out if any good boondoggles came up, didn’t you?”

Dave gave him an appreciative smile. “I just had me a perfectly fine boondoggle, but I wouldn’t turn down another. Why, do you have another one up your sleeve?”

“Yeah, but this one’s a bit outside my jurisdiction, so it can’t be on the clock.”

“That’s okay with me. I would have done Black Island off the clock. It was a great trip.”

The Boss broke eye contact for a moment, a shadow sliding across his gaze. “Well, I’m glad you appreciate all that. To be candid, I’ve been dealing extra goodies your way because you work hard. And because you had one blow up on you last year, like.”

“Oh, you mean that business up at Vanderzee’s high camp? Hell, that could have happened to anyone. Sure, it was hard being there when the guy died, and having him lying around out there in his tent froze solid until we could get him out of there, but still I appreciated the chance to see such a different part of Antarctica. I really did.”

The Boss slapped a hand down hard on Dave’s shoulder and gripped it. “You’re a sport, Dave. Well, anyway, things are still sort of a mess around here after Steve and all, so I thought you’d like another day outside of town.”

“Always willing. What’s the job?”

“There’s this grantee, a biologist lady, and she needs to get out to Cape Royds. That’s a real plum of a trip. You get to go around by the Erebus Glacier Tongue and maybe see some seals, then by Cape Evans and see Scott’s hut, then Barne Glacier. You’ll need someone to ride back with you, so I asked Matt, and he said yes also. You know where to find Matt—you guys are roommates, right?—and he’ll give you the details. See you back at the shop on Saturday.”

“Sounds great! Thanks.”

“And if the grantee needs you to stay out there longer, well, just give me a call and say you’ll be late. You might want to take your sleep kit, just in case.”

Dave’s smile cooled a bit. “What’s up, Boss?”

“Maybe you’d better get your food to take out. There’s some real bullshit running around here just now.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. What’s up?”

The Boss waved a hand about as if trying to dispel a bad odor. “Forget it. Forget I spoke. It’s nothing.” He began to move past Dave and then stopped. “Oh, one more thing: you know anyone who borrowed one of those snow machines parked out on the line?”

“We took two of them out to Black Island. Why?”

“No, the day before.”

Dave shook his head. “In that storm? Why would anyone do that? And you have to check the keys out from Science Support, don’t you?”

The Boss shook his head. “Looks like someone hot-wired one of them. It’s not difficult to do. They used to teach us how to do it in case we lost a key out there. Anyway, the guys at Science Support are asking around.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“You do that, champ. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to run.”

Thinking that he’d be whistling right now if he was any good at it, Dave continued down the hall, hung up his parka in the alcove, washed his hands at the hand-wash station, glanced at the monitors to see if anything interesting was going to be on TV that evening, then stepped into the line to get his dinner. After selecting chop suey, fried rice, egg rolls, and a big piece of chocolate cake, he scanned the dining room in the hope of spotting Valena. He didn’t see her, so he chose a table for four that had nobody else sitting at it, figuring that if she came through the line soon, she’d be more likely to sit with him if he was alone. Just to make sure that he didn’t look too hopeful, he chose a chair that put his back to the food lines.

His plan quickly failed. “Hey, lover boy,” said Wilbur, lowering his tray onto the table across from him. “I hear you scored with that grantee with the nice ass.”

Dave quelled an urge to push his plate into Wilbur’s face, managing to instead greet him with a serene smile.

Joe dropped into the seat beside him. “You pork her for the Steve-o, y’hear?”

Dave felt his breath go tight. “I miss Steve, too, boys,” he said, trying to steer them off the subject of Valena.

“Cupcake thinks you did him,” said Joe.

Dave was just raising a fork full of chop suey to his mouth. He set it down again carefully. “She… what!”

“She says you knew right where to find him. You ought to hear her. Makes it sound real spooky.”

“Or dark,” said Wilbur.

“You guys are just messing with me.”

“Nope. Scout’s honor. And she’s got Cal Hart talking about you, too.”

Dave sat very still and contemplated his next move. He breathed deeply, staring at his chop suey. Deciding that finding another place to eat was in order, he gripped the edges of the tray and began to stand up.

Cal Hart’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. “Where you going, dickhead?” he said, his voice loud enough to be heard at least three tables in any direction.

Dave continued to stand up and turned toward him all in one move, shoving the tray in between them. “Joe and Wilbur here were just telling me you’ve been talking about me,” said Dave. “Anything you’d care to say straight to my face?”

“Yeah. But not in here. Come on outside.”

Dave’s mind sped up. There was something weird about Cal’s manner, like he was reading from a script, but he said, “Suits me.” Brushing past him, he continued to the dish room, scraped his meal into the bins, and dumped his plates and silverware into the wash line. He hated to waste the food, but was too proud to leave it sitting on a table for someone else to clean up for him. He knew he would not be returning to the galley this evening. He was done eating for tonight, entirely done.

Outside in the cold air of the driveway, he shoved his hands firmly into his jeans pockets, stared at the man who had given his foolish friends something to flap their jaws about, and waited. Joe and Wilbur had followed them outside, and others were slowing their gaits as they passed, gathering to watch. I will keep my hands firmly in my pockets , he told himself. I will not get duped into a fight and get thrown off the ice.

Cal said, “You’re a real stud, you know that, Dave?”

Now on top of boiling mad Dave felt a wave of nausea. “If you’re passing lies about me, stop it now. This is too small a town for that kind of—” He couldn’t think of a word strong enough.

Joe said, “Don’t let him get you mad, Dave. You know the rule: zero tolerance for physical fighting.”

Edging closer, Cal said, “What I want to know is this: did you kill Steve?”

“Did I what?” Rage rose in Dave’s chest and his ears began to ring, but he fought to keep his mind rational. Joe’s right, this asshole wants me to take a swing at him. Why?

Cal’s face now hovered inches from his own. “It just seemed so strange that you knew exactly where to find him. So call me paranoid, but I got to thinking that maybe you hit him, dumped him out there, then took Cupcake out there to make it look like you’d just sort of stumbled on him. And you were there at the high camp last year. Too much of a coincidence.”

Dave shook his head slowly from side to side. “The Cake chose which route we’d follow. Ask her.” He turned and began to walk away.

Cal came after him. “So you say. Well, this guy Jim Skehan’s got a real hard-on about finding out who killed Steve.”