Dana Stabenow - A Taint in the Blood

He found himself being ushered from the house. One moment he was in the kitchen, full of legitimate fury, and the next he was on the sidewalk, looking up at her framed in the doorway, with no clear idea of how he got there.

“Kate,” he said.

“Yes, Jim?” she said.

He opened his mouth and closed it, several times.

He looked so bewildered that she relented, if only a little. “Isn’t this how you wanted it?” she said.

“What?” he said.

“Isn’t this how you wanted it?” she repeated. “Straight sex with no complications-when its over we go our separate ways, no harm, no foul?”

“Sounds good to me,” the man next door said, retrieving the newspaper from his front step.

“You mind your own goddamn business,” Jim told him.

The man, grinning, vanished back inside.

When Jim turned back, Kate had closed the door in his face.

Kate was still chuckling at the memory of Jim’s baffled expression, when the phone rang. “Is that lucky bastard gone, or is he standing there ready to come up here and rain all over my sorry-ass parade once he knows it’s me?” Brendan McCord said.

“He’s gone,” Kate said.

“Good,” Brendan said. “Henry Cowell no longer practices law in the state of Alaska.”

“Did he retire?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did he move?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did he die?”

“I don’t know.”

“Brendan-”

“Kate, this guy seems to have just vanished off the map.”

“When?” Kate said.

There was a brief silence. “According to the records, he represented no clients, or at least no Alaskan clients, after he rested his case for Victoria Pilz Bannister Muravieff.”

“Victoria’s case was his last case?”

“You’re a little slow on the uptake this morning, Shugak,” Brendan said. “That’s what happens when you’ve been up all night, I guess.”

“Brendan,” Kate said, unheeding, “don’t you think it’s interesting that Victoria’s attorney vanishes right after her trial is over?”

She could hear the amusement in his voice. “Boy, you’re desperate, aren’t you, Shugak? Like massive amounts of somebodies hightailing it out of Alaska and leaving no forwarding address is a new thing.”

He was right, and she was a little deflated. “Yeah. Well, if you do stumble across some mention of him, let me know.”

“Wilco,” he said cheerfully.

“And you were going to BOTLF a cop who might have been around at that time, too, don’t forget.”

“How about Morris Maxwell, a cop on the force at the time,” he said, “although I’m still working on what it’s worth to me.”

Kate took a deep breath. “Brendan, at this moment I could lick whipped cream off your butt. Where do I find him?”

“Oooooooh, Shugak, you-pardon the expression-silver-tongued devil you,” he said. “The Pioneer Home between I And L. And Kate, no guarantees on what he is or isn’t going to remember. The guy’s like a hundred and nine.”

The phone was barely back in its cradle when it rang again.

“It’s me, Kate,” Kurt Pletnikoff said. “I found her.”

Luba Hardt was in the hospital with multiple contusions, a cracked rib and, the medical staff informed them, a raging case of withdrawal. So much for the Bean’s Cafe assessment of Luba’s condition. Not only was she not talking, she wasn’t focusing very well. She didn’t respond to Kate’s questions, and after a moment Kate went into the hall. “Where did you find her?” she said to Kurt.

“In the trees between Third Avenue and the railroad yards,” Kurt said. “A bunch of street people have built themselves shelters there.”

“Was anyone else there?”

He shook his head.

A big man in the one-tone black of the Anchorage Police Department approached. “Shugak,” he said.

“O’Leary,” she said.

“Long time no see,” he said, his tone indicating it hadn’t been long enough. “You know the vie?”

Kate nodded. “She’s from Niniltna.”

O’Leary eyed Kurt. “And this is?”

“Kurt Pletnikoff. He was looking for her, at my request.”

O’Leary nodded, holding Kurt’s eyes. “I see.”

“I didn’t do this,” Kurt said.

“Who said you did?” O’Leary said.

“I’ll vouch for Kurt,” Kate said. “He works for me.”

Kurt’s expression was wooden, but O’Leary knew something was off. “Oh yeah?” Sandy eyebrows didn’t quite disappear into the receding hairline that O’Leary hid with his uniform cap. Kate had never seen him without it.

“Really,” Kate said.

“I thought you worked alone.”

Kate shrugged. “You thought wrong.” She threw a little attitude into her tone, too, as if to say, Nothing new. And by the way, back off, motherfucker.

O’Leary nodded. “Got a number?” he said to Kurt.

Before Kurt could answer, Kate gave O’Leary hers. “We’ll come down to the cop shop tomorrow for statements.”

O’Leary’s turn to shrug. “I’ve got everything I need.”

Safely in the parking lot, Kurt said, “What’s with him?”

“We’ve got history,” Kate said. “Plus, I don’t think O’Leary thinks Natives are really necessary. Especially not Native women.”

“Necessary to what?”

“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” She turned to face him. “You did good, Kurt.”

He looked glum. “I wish I could have found her before she got hurt.”

“Me, too, but at least she didn’t lie out for three days and die of exposure. You found her. That’s what I hired you for. How hard was it to find her?”

He shook his head. “Not that hard. I walked all over downtown, talked to the guys who hang out on the grass in front of the visitors’ center, went into all the Fourth Avenue bars, described Luba, asked if they’d seen her. She’s been living on the streets since she got to town, I think. Eventually, I found someone, who told me a couple of places she might be. I found her the third place I went.”

Kate nodded. “How much did it cost?”

He pulled out a small wire notebook and thumbed through it. “About a hundred fifty bucks’ worth of cheap beer, and a hamburger.”

Kate nodded again. “How did you like it? The job, I mean. How did you like doing it?”

He thought about it. “It was okay,” he said in a surprised tone of voice. “All I had to do was be halfway civil, buy a few drinks here, a six-pack there, and people were ready to talk.”

“Not everyone has the ability to listen,” Kate said. It took him a minute to realize that she’d paid him a compliment. When he did, he blushed like a teenager. “How would you like another job?”

He looked at her. “Same wages?”

She nodded, hiding a smile. “First thing, though, you buy yourself some new clothes. Get a decent sports jacket, a couple of pairs of slacks, some good shoes.”

He looked appalled. “Jesus, Kate. Do I have to?”

She sighed. “Yeah. Look, go to Nordstrom. Go up to the second floor and ask for a salesperson named Alana. Tell her Kate Shugak sent you in for a businessman’s makeover. She’ll get you outfitted.” Whether you want to be or not, she thought. She gave him an assessing glance. “Tell her I said you need a haircut, too. Second thing, I want you to go to a print shop and get a business card made up.”

Still terrified by the prospect of his makeover, Kurt said weakly, “A business card? What do I put on it?”

Kate thought. “Your name, with my phone number beneath it. Wait, I’ll go with you. I know a print shop, and I know what I want the card to look like.”

“I don’t know what the hell I need a card for.”