Dana Stabenow - A Taint in the Blood

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Chopin. I’m just reporting here.”

“Besides,” he said, “no offense, Shugak, but you’re not exactly known for following the rules.”

She grinned. “I admit, not my strong point.”

“Strong point, my ass. You never met a rule of evidence you liked.”

“And the courts are so picky about that ‘fruit of the poisoned tree’ stuff.”

“I don’t think you even know what Miranda means.”

“If someone wants to talk, why wouldn’t I listen?” she said wide-eyed.

“I could never be absolutely sure I could make a case with you working for me.”

“Probably not.”

But she caught perps, they both thought, and both had to bite back a smile.

There was a brief silence. “It was a bribe,” Jim said on a note of discovery.

“Indeed it was,” Kate said.

“What for?”

“I don’t know.” She let one foot slip down from his hands and let it rest in the notch between his legs.

He stilled. “Kate?” It came out like a croak.

She leaned forward and smiled into his eyes. “I’ve got to get out of these smelly clothes.” She nuzzled him, her nose against his nose, her lips against his lips, a gesture of warmth and tenderness that should have scared the hell out of him. “They’ve got all these”-she fluttered a hand-“buttons.”

He swallowed hard. “I noticed,” he said hoarsely.

“Mmmm. I don’t know if I can manage all of them on my own. I might need a little”-she ran her tongue around the curl of his ear-“help.”

She might just as well have led him up the stairs by his dick. It was doing all his thinking for him anyway.

The next morning, there were three boys waiting on the doorstep. “Okay,” Kate told Kevin, “you’re beginning to overgraze your range.”

“Hello,” the third boy said, and stuck out his hand. “I’m Garrett Hyde.”

Kate shook it. “How do you do,” she said, going formal on instinct. “I’m Kate Shugak.

Garrett was Jordan’s age and had straight blond hair neatly cut and direct brown eyes.

“I was about to start breakfast.” She stood back from the door. “Would you like to join us?”

Garrett didn’t budge. “I’m not supposed to go into strange people’s houses.”

“I’m Kevin and Jordan’s friend,” Kate said. “But don’t come in if it feels wrong.” She walked away from the open door and went into the kitchen.

Breakfast this morning was oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar and sourdough toast dripping with butter. Kevin and Jordan ate like horses, with Garrett eating just as much, only not as quickly. Afterward, Kevin disappeared into the living room with Mutt, and shortly thereafter the television could be heard.

Jordan, who was helping Garrett load the dishwasher with the breakfast dishes, paused and looked at Kate. “He likes Barney,” he said, and rolled his eyes.

“What are you going to do,” Kate said.

Jordan half-smiled.

Garrett looked at Jordan and said, “Okay.”

“The Garrett Hyde seal of approval?” Kate said.

He flushed. “We go to the same school. They’re friends of mine. We look out for each other.”

“Good to have friends,” Kate said, “understood. Were you out together all night last night?”

He shook his head. “We had a sleepover at my house.”

Kate was relieved. “Good.”

He hesitated. “Do you think you can help them? Their mom…” His voice trailed off.

“I’ll try,” Kate said.

“Okay,” Garrett said again.

Kate raised her voice. “Kevin, in here for a minute.”

He came back into the kitchen and looked at her with wary eyes. “Relax,” she said, “I haven’t called DFYS. Yet.”

Their faces closed up.

“Guys,” she said, “come on. It’s good you found a bolt-hole, but it’s temporary. It won’t be long before I go home. What are you going to do then?”

“I’ll look out for them,” Garrett said immediately.

In a voice carefully devoid of ridicule, Kate said, “How?”

“I’ll take them home with me.”

“Your parents up for two more kids in the house?”

She saw the answer on his face. More important, she saw it on Kevin’s and Jordan’s faces, too. “It’s okay,” Jordan said. Kevin looked at him, and he dropped his eyes. “Most of the time.”

Kate felt a touch on her arm and looked down to see that Kevin had drawn close, his small, pleading face raised imploringly to hers. “Don’t make us leave our mom,” he whispered. “Please don’t.”

“What are you going to do?” Jim said when the door closed behind them.

“I don’t know yet,” Kate said, rubbing her face with both hands. “But something.”

Jim looked as if the struggle to remain silent was difficult.

Kate drove to the library, wondering what to do about them. Jim was right. She should call DFYS and let them sort it out.

Two things stopped her. One, she had taken control over where she would live when she was in kindergarten, meeting and beating her grandmother’s determination that Kate live with her in town. Two, she remembered Abel, the surrogate father Emaa had found for Kate when Kate refused to leave the homestead. He was the one who had found her there when Emaa was frantically scouring the Park for her missing granddaughter. Abel had respected Kate’s act of self-determination enough not to manhandle her over to his cabin.

Kate felt that if she manhandled Kevin and Jordan’s future, she would somehow be demonstrating a lack of respect for her foster father, another crusty Alaskan old fart who believed absolutely in independence and self-reliance. She couldn’t do that. Not yet, at any rate.

Not to mention that young Garrett had left her with the distinct impression that he expected better of her than that.

She pulled into the library parking lot and found a space in the first row, facing the fountain, the same row she always parked in when she came to the library, so she could find the car again. On impulse, she got out her cell phone and after three tries managed to dial Auntie Vi’s cell phone number. She wondered what color Auntie Vi’s phone was today. The last time she’d seen it, it had been lime green. The time before that, it had been cherry red.

Auntie Vi answered. “If’s me, Auntie,” Kate said. “Is Johnny there?”

“Hey, Kate,” Johnny said, trying to be cool but clearly delighted that she had called home just to talk to him.

They chatted for a while, Kate telling him about her overworked bullshit detector at last night’s party and Johnny grilling her about her shopping list at Costco to make sure she didn’t forget the important things, like batteries and bags of chips.

She told him about the boys. She didn’t ask, but he said anyway, “You can’t do anything else and still have them trusting you.”

“I know.”

“Besides, you cook a mean breakfast, Kate. Don’t worry, they’ll be back.”

She was still smiling when she got out of the car. She left the windows rolled down in case Mutt wanted to grab a snack from the flocks of geese that were currently nibbling the grass around the fountain, and went directly to the third floor and the microfiche stacks. She pulled the rolls for the Anchorage Times for a year before Victoria’s imprisonment and a year after and sat down at a machine with a notebook and a pencil.

Two hours later, she was suffering mild nausea from watching so much film scroll past and hadn’t discovered much in the way of additional information either to help or hurt her investigation of Victoria’s case. The facts were reported pretty much as they appeared in the police report and the trial transcript. The fire and the death of the boy, William, the discovery of the arson, and his mother’s subsequent arrest and conviction were sensationalized beneath screaming banner headlines, but that was primarily due to the prominence of the family. Crimes even more heinous were reported every day; they were just bumped back to the inside of the paper because the victims were poor or unelected.