Dana Stabenow - Whisper to the Blood

Book 16 in the Kate Shugak series, 2009

My thanks to Irene Rowan, whose wonderful and sometimes heartbreaking stories inspired the plot of this novel.

My thanks to Talia Ross, for the loan of her way-cool name.

And last but by no means least, my thanks to Pat and Cliff Lunneborg, who once said to me, "Do what you love. The money will come." I've been waiting to say that in a book ever since.

VANCOUVER, BC (AP): A Canadian-based mining firm, Global Harvest Resources Inc. (GHRI), yesterday announced the discovery of a gold, copper and molybdenum deposit on state-leased land in Alaska 's Iqaluk Wildlife Refuge. At a press conference at the company's headquarters in Vancouver, British Columbia, GHRI said preliminary estimates put the recoverable gold at 42 million ounces.

"That's more than seven times the total amount of gold mined during the Klondike Gold Rush," said GHRI chief executive officer Bruce O'Malley.

It's not only gold in them thar hills, according to O'Malley. "There are also 24 billion pounds of copper and 1.5 million pounds of molybdenum," a hard metal used to strengthen steel, in what GHRI has named the Suulutaq Mine. Suulutaq is the Aleut word for "gold."

At current prices, the gold alone in the Suulutaq Mine is worth over $38 billion.

The governor's office in Juneau issued a press release that said, in part, "The people of Alaska applaud Global Harvest Resources' entrepreneurial efforts in making this discovery, and look forward to a long and profitable relationship with them."

State senator Pete Heiman (R), representing District 41, appeared optimistic when asked about the proposed mine. "Global Harvest has already committed to hiring locally, two thousand employees during construction and a thousand for operation afterward, for as long as the ore holds out," he said. "Anything that puts my constituents to work is a good thing."

Calls to the Niniltna Native Association's headquarters in Niniltna, the community located nearest the prospective mine, were not returned as of press time. The village of Niniltna itself is unincorporated and has no elected officials.

Grin bought out Mac Devlin." Kate looked up from the dining room table, where she was wrestling with a time sheet for her last job. It had required extensive surveillance, some of which she had subbed out to Kurt Pletnikoff in Anchorage. Kurt was turning into quite the one-man Continental Op, and while Kate was glad to see the erstwhile Park screwup make good, and while she begrudged none of the hefty percentage of her fee he was earning, the bookkeeping strained her negligible mathematical skills to the red shift limit. It took her a moment to focus on Jim's news. "Grin?"

"Global Harvest Resources Inc. GHRIn. That's what we're calling them around the Park, hadn't you heard?"

"No. Appropriate, though. They have to be grinning from ear to ear."

"To be fair, everyone is-fed, state, local."

"Not everyone local is," Kate said.

"Yeah." Jim slung his jacket around a chair and pulled off the ball cap with the Alaska State Trooper insignia, running a hand through his thatch of dark blond hair. Jim was ever vigilant against hat hair. "And not Mac Devlin anymore, either. He's been operating on a shoestring for years, waiting on the big strike that never came. Last fall he had to sell off all his heavy equipment to pay his outstanding bills. Well, just to gild the lily, whoever his bank is got hit hard in the subprime mortgage mess, so they called in a lot of debt, including what they had on the land his mine sits on."

"And the Nabesna Mine also just happens to sit right on the route to the valley where Global Harvest has its leases," Kate said.

Jim nodded. "Owning the Nabesna Mine will give them easy access."

"Hell," Kate said, "Mac's road into the Nabesna Mine gets them partway there. And give the devil his due, it's a pretty good road."

"Better than the state road into the Park."

"No kidding. Although that's not saying much." She pointed with her chin. "The coffee's fresh. And there's gingerbread."

"Outstanding." He busied himself in the kitchen. "Mac's pretty pissed about the whole deal. You know how he was such a rah-rah boy for the Suulutaq from the get-go? Now he's saying Global Harvest and his bank must have been in cahoots, that they conspired to force him to sell for pennies on the dollar."

"Where's he saying this?"

"At the Roadhouse."

"What were you doing out at Bernie's?"

"Your cousin Martin was making a nuisance of himself again, so I went out to lay down a little law."

Kate sighed. "What'd he do this time?"

"Got stumblebum drunk, tripped over a chair, and spilled a beer on the current quilt."

"Holy shit," Kate said, looking up. "Is he still living?"

Jim regarded the quarter section of gingerbread he had cut with satisfaction, and not a little drool. "The aunties were pissed."

"Imagine my surprise. And Martin?"

Jim looked up and grinned. It was wide and white and predatory. "I think Bernie called me out more to get Martin into protective custody than because Martin was misbehaving in his bar."

"Martin being one of his better customers," Kate said. "Any other news from the front?"

Howie Katelnikof, boon companion to the late and unlamented Louis Deem, had been at the Roadhouse, too, hanging around the outskirts of the aunties' quilting bee, but Howie's life was hanging by a thread where Kate was concerned. Jim thought, on the whole, better not to mention Howie's presence.

It wasn't that Jim, a fair-minded man, didn't understand and to a certain extent didn't even approve of Kate's homicidal intentions toward Howie. He was as certain as he could be, lacking direct, concrete evidence, that Howie was responsible for the attack that had put Kate's truck in the ditch with Kate and Johnny in it, an attack which had also put Mutt in the hospital with a very nearly fatal bullet wound. There would be justice done at some point, no doubt, probably when Howie and the eagerly awaiting Park rats least expected it. Kate knew well the value of patience.

"The usual suspects," he said, in answer to Kate's question. "Pretty quiet on the northern front." He frowned down at the gingerbread, which didn't deserve it. "I have to say, it's been an odd summer all around, though."

Between the case and deckhanding for Old Sam on the Freya during the salmon season, Kate was a little out of touch on current Park happenings. "How so?"

He meditated for a moment. "Well, I guess I could sum it up by saying people haven't been calling me."

She looked up at that, amused. "What, are you bored? Suffering from a deficiency of mayhem?"

He smiled briefly and without much humor. "I guess what I mean is I'm getting called out a lot, but only after the fact."

She was puzzled. "I'm sorry? You're always called out after the fact. A crime is committed, victim calls the cops. That's the way it works."