Erik laughed and the third man turned and grinned at them. “Hey, Erik!”
“Hey, Gabe! What brings you down the hill?”
“And a slalom of a hill it is, too. Who’s your friend?” He squinted into the sun.
“Liam. New to town. I met at him Jeff’s this morning when I went in for a growler. I told him about the dig and he came out for a look.”
Gabe walked forward to get under the tent and out of the sun. “Nice to meet you, Liam.” He stuck out a hand.
“And you, Gabe.”
He tried to let go of the handshake but Gabe held on. “Wait a minute. I know you.”
“We have met.” Liam had recognized him immediately but he had not expected to be recognized in turn.
“I’ll say. In Newenham. Sergeant Liam Campbell.”
“That would be me.”
“You still a trooper?”
“Yep. You still a movie star?”
“Yep.”
They both laughed, and Gabe McGuire, Oscar-winning action film star, breaker of a billion hearts and a bona fide box office bonanza, turned to Erik and said, “We met in Newenham, what, two years ago now.”
“Almost. Still have that FBO in Chinook?” Liam said.
A shadow crossed McGuire’s face. “Sold it. The lodge, too.”
The FBO at least had some Erland Bannister DNA so Liam could understand it, but still. “Damn. Sweet properties, both of them.”
Gabe smiled. Usually you couldn’t see him acting, but today wasn’t his best effort. “Too much baggage.” He spread his hands. “And hey, I’m a Bay boy, now.”
Erik snorted, and Gabe laughed. “Reason I came down is, I’m throwing a little watch party this evening. I’m inviting all the neighbors. Booze and I’ve got hot dogs and hamburgers for the grill, and six different kinds of ice cream for after.”
Erik laid his hand on his heart and let it thump a few times. “You had me at booze, but Dom, too?” Gabe rolled his eyes and Erik snorted again. “Like you wouldn’t tap that.”
“Seriously, dude? That woman comes with her own freight train of baggage.” He turned to Liam. “You’re invited, too.”
“Thanks, but—” He looked at his phone. “I’ve got just about enough time to get from here to the airport to pick my wife up when she lands.”
“The hot pilot, right?” Liam raised an eyebrow and McGuire grinned. “I’m not blind. Bring her along.”
“I’ll ask her,” Liam said, knowing he would do no such thing. He hadn’t seen Wy for a week and what he had in mind for the evening didn’t include an audience.
Gabe read his expression. “Yeah, never mind. Rain check.”
“Works.” He looked at Erik. “Thanks for the tour.”
“Anytime.”
“I’ll follow you up,” McGuire said.
The way up was arduous but less death-defying. They stood at the top for a moment to catch their breath. “You get this view from the house?” Liam said.
“Oh, yeah.”
Liam looked towards it but the trees were impenetrable. “How long have you been here?”
“Almost a year.”
“Buy or build?”
“Bought. Some dot-com gazillionaire built it, spent about twelve days in it, and decided it was too far from the nearest server farm.” Liam laughed and Gabe smiled. “Seen anything of that FBI agent or that reporter?”
“Mason and Dunaway? Dunaway’s always in and out on stories. I’ve talked on the phone to Mason a time or two.” Liam looked at him. “Did I remember to thank you for giving Kate Shugak a ride back from Adak that time? I still owe you for that.”
Gabe shrugged. “I can always use more hours in the G-2.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. “I was real sorry to hear.”
“Hear what?”
Still not looking at Liam, Gabe said, “That she died.”
“Who died?”
McGuire did look at him this time, clearly annoyed. “Kate Shugak.”
“What?”
“You didn’t know? I thought Alaska was the original seventh grade classroom, everybody knows everything about everybody else.”
“Kate’s not dead, Gabe.”
“She got shot. I heard. Her and that monster dog of hers, too.”
“True,” Liam said, “but she didn’t die. Monster dog, either.”
McGuire stared at him. “Kate Shugak’s alive?”
Liam got the feeling McGuire was tap dancing but he couldn’t figure out what around.
“I was told she was dead,” McGuire said slowly.
“Who told you that?” McGuire didn’t answer, and the answer dawned. “Erland Bannister? Your business partner in Newenham?” McGuire looked away and Liam said, “Yeah, well, he actually is dead. And never a man whose word you could trust when he was alive, by the way.” Liam checked his phone again. “I gotta book.”
The one-lane dirt road was just as awful going out as coming in and he achieved the paved surface of East Bay Road again with the feeling of having dodged an enormous repair bill. McGuire could afford to turn that poor excuse for a road into the Champs-Elysées, so why put up with what was basically a hog wallow?
A second later he answered his own question. Why would Gabe McGuire of all people want to make it easy for anyone to come visit?
Mystery solved, he headed back into town with a heart that lightened with every mile. He was already smiling when he turned left on Airport Road, and he was positively grinning when he entered the code to get through the gate onto the field. He drove to Wy’s tie-down and got out. The sun was warm on the back of his neck and he stood there for a moment, enjoying the place, the day, the anticipation of greeting his wife in his best Duke of Marlborough imitation.
Perhaps just to remind him that all joy is conditional and fleeting, his brain brought up the images of Jenny and Charlie, his first wife and their son, both killed by the same drunk driver. That event had begun a downward spiral that had nearly destroyed him mentally and emotionally, and very nearly professionally as well. That spiral had culminated in his being assigned to the post in Newenham, a location so remote and a town so lacking in all the mod cons they
