Текст книги "Secrets of the Highlander"

Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен

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“Death. Which I finally did after two centuries, when I asked Matt to please find a way to allow me to die one last time, preferably as a man. He realized he needed help to undo his wrong, and began devising a way to meet your sister. He lured Robbie MacBain back to twelfth-century Scotland to bring the taproot from his tree of life, and me, forward to this time.”

“Why did he need Winter’s help, if he’s such a powerful drùidh?”

“Besides being a drùidh, Matt is also a guardian, and guardians can’t actually interfere in our lives. They can only guard us from the magic.”

“He interfered in yours!”

“Aye, he did. And he so upset the continuum, we all nearly paid the price for it.” He squeezed her gently. “But thanks to your wise and very stubborn sister, everything has worked out. I am myself again, I shall die a natural death one final time, and together with Providence and a bit of help from Talking Tom, Matt and Winter now have an even more powerful tree of life.”

Megan suddenly scrambled off his lap, her face flushed as she turned on him. “Winter! She’s known all along!” she cried. “I’ve been so worried about Gesader this week, and she couldn’t even tell me you were him!”

Just as quickly as her anger had come, her face paled again. “I…I’ve been crying all over you for the last four months,” she whispered. She pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’ve been sleeping in my bed!”

Kenzie stood up, worried she’d back off the edge of the rise. “As a panther, Megan,” he said, moving toward her. “Not as a man.”

“I told you my deepest, darkest secrets.” She took another step back. “I—”

He lunged, reaching for her at the exact moment she realized her peril. But instead of grabbing him for support, Megan used his momentum to knock him off balance. She gave him a surprisingly forceful push in the chest and bolted away.

Kenzie fell over the rise instead, landing in a snowdrift as deep as he was tall. “Megan!” he shouted. “Don’t run, lass!”

She peered over the edge, saw that he hadn’t fallen far but was stuck, then disappeared.

“Megan!”

She didn’t return.

“Goose!” Kenzie called out, throwing his body back and forth to free himself from the snowdrift.

The horse’s head appeared over the edge of the rise, his hooves knocking more snow loose. “I’ll make my own way back. Go catch up with your mistress and take her home.”

The horse disappeared, and Kenzie gave a snort. So Matt had figured right: he really could talk to animals.

Jack surveyed the small kitchen of the Pine Lake Bakery & Bistro. “What’s that smell?” he asked the two people staring at him, apparently waiting for him to say something police-chief-like.

“I noticed it, too, the moment I stepped inside this morning,” Marge Wimple said. The petite, gray-haired bakery owner wrinkled her nose. “It smells sour.”

“Like rotting vegetation or something, only laced with sugar,” Simon Pratt added.

“You go arrest that brat Tommy Cleary this minute,” Marge said. “Everyone knows he’s their ringleader, and the Cleary place sits right next to a bog. That’s where this smell comes from.” She pointed to a brown spot on the floor. “Where else you gonna find mud in the middle of the winter?” She then pointed her finger at Jack. “You put the fear of God in Tommy, and make him tell you who his accomplices are. Just look at what they did to my shop!” Her tearful gaze moved over the mess. “It’ll take me a week to clean this place, and another week to restock all my supplies. That’s two weeks right out of the middle of my busiest season.”

Jack bent down and touched one of the brown spots. “I need a bit more than the fact that Tommy Cleary lives next to a bog to bring him in for questioning.” He sniffed the mud. “This is definitely out of a swamp, but that’s not the smell lingering in the air.” He spotted a slimy substance on the edge of the smashed doughnut display case and walked over to sniff it. “It’s coming from here,” he said, moving aside and motioning for Simon to take a whiff.

“Whew!” Simon said, jerking upright. “That’s rank. What is it?”

“The lab will have to tell us that.”

“What lab?” Simon asked.

Jack frowned at his deputy. “The state has a forensics lab we can use, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Simon rushed over to his evidence kit. “I’ll have Ethel give them a call to find out how we send them stuff.”

“It’s that Cleary boy and his brothers, I tell you,” Marge said. “Joan Cleary lets those boys run loose like a bunch of heathens. Everyone knows it was them who stole my sign last month, and took Rose Brewer’s moose antlers off the front of her store. We didn’t get our stuff back for a entire week. A fisherman found them hanging on his ice shanty two miles out on the lake.”

Marge stalked up to Jack. “We hired you to stop this foolishness, but it’s only getting worse.” She raised her finger again, clearly intending to poke him in the chest, but when her eyes met his she changed her mind. “What are you going to do about this, Chief Stone?”

“Deputy Pratt and I are going to fully investigate your break-in, Mrs. Wimple. We’ll gather fingerprints and evidence, take a look around outside, and talk to people in the hopes that somebody saw something. You can start cleaning up once we give you the okay, which should be sometime tomorrow morning.” He gave her what he hoped was a police-chief-like smile. “We’ll keep you apprised of what’s happening. Thank you for being so cooperative, Mrs. Wimple,” he finished, turning toward the back door of the bakery.

He stopped beside Simon, who was scraping some of the mud into a plastic bag. “Take some pictures with that fancy new digital camera.” He nodded toward the large evidence kit that would make one heck of a fishing tackle box. “Get some shots in here, then take some pictures of the grounds outside and the front and back of the store.”

“Sure thing, Chief.”

“My name is Jack,” he told Simon for the umpteenth time. “White men stopped calling us chief several decades age.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “Y-you’re an Indian?” he sputtered, his face turning a dull red.

“Half Canadian Cree,” Jack said. “So stop with the chief thing, will you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jack gave a snort and walked outside, ducking under the crime scene tape before putting on his sunglasses. He stopped in the middle of the lane that ran between the stores and Pine Lake, and scanned the downtown business district. A lot of money had gone into the storefronts on the street side, but the backs of the buildings were even more impressive. No alley full of dumpsters and recycling bins here. The stores came within fifty yards of the shoreline, and the town had capitalized on that, building a park with benches, landscape trees, and strategically placed logging artifacts. The Pine Lake Bakery & Bistro was sided by a craft supply store, an art gallery, then an outfitter store, and finally a restaurant with huge windows facing the lake.

“Find out if that railing was already busted or if that break is new,” Jack told Simon when the deputy came outside with his camera. “Is the discoloring on the doorjamb more of that slime?”

Simon leaned in close to look, then immediately jerked back. “It’s the same stuff, all right.”

“Take a photo of it,” Jack instructed, turning to scan the snow. “What do you make of this?”

Simon walked up beside him and squinted at where Jack was pointing. “Those are tracks.”

“But what kind of tracks?” Jack asked, carefully stepping over the snowbank beside them, then following the tracks into the otherwise pristine layer of snow as he scanned the ground in a fifty-foot circle. “They simply begin here all of a sudden,” he said, pointing. “They come out of nowhere, like something flew in, landed here, and then walked to the bakery. Get a shot of this, too,” he said, hunching down over one of the holes. “I can’t make out the shape because something was dragged over the print.”

Simon snapped several pictures, then continued photographing the path the tracks made. “They’re too large to be from a bird. One of those para-skiing kites maybe?” he asked as he worked. “Or an ultralight airplane? A bunch of home-built ultralights fly around the lake on the weekends.”

“Any in the Cleary family?” Jack asked, walking toward the frozen shoreline.

“Nope. The Clearys can barely manage to buy food. A small plane would have made a noise. Maybe someone heard something.”

Jack shook his head. “There’s no tracks where it took off again. Whoever came in here walked away.”

“Or used Main Street as a runway.”

Jack thought about that. “A hang glider or large kite makes more sense than a plane, even a small one. And dragging a glider might have made those tracks.” He shook his head again. “But that’s a pretty unusual way to arrive to a burglary. Maybe the tracks don’t have anything to do with our break-in.”

“But they head directly to the bakery,” Simon pointed out.

“None of the other stores were broken into?”

“Nope. I checked the shops on both sides of the street. Everything is just as the owners left it last night.”

Jack looked out at the busy lake dotted with tiny islands, zooming snowmobiles, ice shanties, and even a few pickups with plows on them. Hell, it was busier than Main Street out there. He looked back at the bakery. So, what had caused a bunch of bored teenagers to go from pulling a few harmless pranks to breaking and entering?

And what in hell had made those tracks?

Chapter Three

“I thought I’d find you down here.”

Megan looked up from the computer screen and scowled at her sister. “Go away,” she said, returning to the Internet page.

Of course Camry ignored her. She sauntered into Gù Brath’s science lab, pulled up a chair, and cradled her chin in her hands as she also studied the screen. “I wondered how long it would take you to get bored working at Winter’s art gallery.” She reached over to hit a keyboard button to scroll down the page. “I’m surprised you lasted three months. Not Easter Island,” she muttered, hitting the button again. “Or Costa Rica, either. It’s too hot. There!” she said, pointing at the new Internet page. “You can go count Steller’s sea eagles off the coast of Siberia. That’s definitely far enough away to teach all of us a lesson.”

Megan reached up and shut off the monitor.

Camry immediately turned it back on. “No, I think you’re on to something here, Meg. You should run as far and as fast as you can, and to hell with everyone. You’re a fully grown woman, so why hang around here getting fawned over by a family who loves you?”

Megan looked down at her lap. “It’s killing me, Cam. Mom and Dad treat me like a fragile piece of glass, afraid if they so much as look at me wrong, I’ll shatter.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Dad actually got down on his knee and tied my shoes for me yesterday.”

Camry covered Megan’s hands. “He can’t help himself, coming from a time when being pregnant and single was just about the worst position a woman could find herself in. None of us can help being worried about you, because we love you. Mom said you came home in tears from your fieldwork in Canada, and cried for nearly a month when Wayne Ferris broke your heart.”

“But everyone’s concern is only making it worse. I came home looking for support, not pity. I certainly expected better from you. We’re more alike than our own twin sisters, and I was positive you would realize I haven’t turned into a helpless idiot. So how come you didn’t tell me about Kenzie?”

“Ahh,” Camry said, leaning back in her chair. “That’s why you’re searching for a job. So you can run away again, only this time from…from what, Meg? Why should Kenzie being Gesader throw you into such a tailspin? It can’t be the magic, since we grew up with it. So what is it?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And just how was I supposed to explain that the panther you’d been sleeping with for the last four months was really a man?” She leaned forward. “Everyone knew how embarrassed you’d be.”

“And none of you thought I would eventually figure it out when Gesader never showed up again? Cam, I told that cat everything,” she whispered. “All my deepest, darkest secrets.” She covered her face with her hands. “My God, I even told him how I’d torn off Wayne’s clothes and made love to him under the stars!”

“And Gesader saw you naked when you got ready for bed. That’s really what has you so flustered, isn’t it? That, and even though you’re not quite over Wayne, you find Kenzie mysteriously attractive. So who finally told you, anyway?”

“He did. And I don’t like Kenzie that way.”

“Why not? He’s handsome as all get out, and he’s seen you at your worst and doesn’t turn tail when you approach. So what’s wrong with liking him ‘that way’? I’m tempted to flirt with him myself.”

“He’s a warrior.”

Camry arched her brows at Megan’s tone. “And just what’s wrong with warriors? They make up most of our family, including our own generation. Half our cousins have served in the military.”

“Which is exactly why I fell so hard for Wayne. His first reaction to a problem isn’t to bludgeon it into submission, but to solve it peaceably. He doesn’t have one confrontational bone in his body. He’s interested in stuff I’m interested in, he’s shy and gentle and sensitive, and he’s got this endearing little clumsiness thing going on.”

“The men in our family can be sensitive and gentle.”

“Wayne wouldn’t even know which end of a sword to hold,” Megan countered, “much less how to shoot a gun. You should have seen him with the students out on the tundra, Cam. No matter how heated their petty arguments got, Wayne disarmed the situation without even raising his voice.”

“He sounds like a nerd.”

“He is. A wonderful, beautiful, sensitive nerd. And for an added bonus, he’s only five foot ten, so I don’t get a crick in my neck talking to him. I love the men in our family, Cam, I just don’t want to be married to one. I want Wayne.”

“Then go get him!” Camry snapped. “Instead of looking for a new job halfway around the world, get your sorry butt back to Canada.”

“And do what?” Megan snapped back. “Beg Wayne to marry me?”

“MacKeages do not beg.” Camry narrowed her eyes. “The Megan I grew up with would have fought for the man she loved. She sure as hell wouldn’t be hiding in the family fortress, having a four-month pity party.”

Megan lifted her chin. “I am not hiding. In fact, I’m planning to confront Wayne.”

“When?”

Megan started scrolling down the page again. “Just as soon as I get my ducks in a row,” she muttered. “That’s why I’m looking for a new job. I’m going to become gainfully employed again and move into my own home, and then I’m going to track down Wayne and show him exactly what he threw away.”

“That’s the sister I grew up with.” Camry’s face suddenly brightened even more. “You know what this means, Meg? If you give wimpy Wayne the boot, you’ve broken the curse of us girls getting pregnant the first time we make love to our future husbands!” She bobbed her eyebrows. “Which also means I’m free to start dating again. Maybe I will go after Kenzie.”

Only Megan wasn’t feeling her sister’s enthusiasm. “Why didn’t the curse work for me? And are you…still a virgin?”

“No,” Camry said softly, her face pink. “Were you?”

Megan shook her head. “I’ve had other relationships.”

“Hmm…so that means it’s not making love that’s the danger, just that we get pregnant by the men we’re destined to marry.”

“Then what happened to me?”

Camry shrugged. “Who knows? The upset Matt caused to the continuum might have messed up the magic enough to stop the curse. Anyway, come on,” she said, standing up. “Dinner’s ready.”

Megan turned back to the computer. “I’m not hungry.”

“You have to face Kenzie sometime, Meg. He’s not going away.”

“No, but I am. Look! There’s an opening for a field biologist right here in Maine.”

Camry leaned over her shoulder and read the posting. “It’s for the Pine Lake watershed.” She straightened with a frown. “What are the chances of that?”

“Slim to none.”

“Exactly. And it’s not state or federal, but private money backing the grant. I don’t think you should apply, Meg. You remember what happened to Aunt Sadie, don’t you? She thought she’d been hired by a development corporation, but it turned out to be a front for some guy looking for a nonexistent gold mine.”

“This has to be legit.” Megan pointed at the bottom of the screen. “It’s a preliminary impact study for a new resort being built at the north end of the lake. A guy named Mark Collins is looking for an assistant to do the actual fieldwork. I prefer fieldwork to running the show, so it’s perfect for me.”

“It’s spooky, I tell you,” Cam countered. “The magic’s been so screwed up lately, there’s no telling why this job showed up here, much less now.”

“But it would mean I could move out of Gù Brath and find a rental in town. I can handle Mom and Dad in small doses if I have a place to escape to. I need to get my life back.”

“In Pine Creek?” Camry asked, obviously still doubtful.

“The watershed covers hundreds of square miles. I’ll look for a rental a little farther out.”

“There’s nothing farther out but bears and trees.”

“And blessed peace.”

Camry shook her head. “I still say it’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Maybe Providence is trying to make amends for screwing up my life,” Megan suggested, suddenly feeling more cheerful. “Let’s go eat, I’m starved. But don’t mention this to anyone,” she said, turning off the lights. “Promise me you won’t bring it up.”

“You don’t even know if you’ll get the job.”

“Are you kidding? The magic owes me big-time. But I don’t want to tell Mom and Dad until after I’ve found a rental and moved in.”

“Dad’s going to throw a fit.”

“I’ll survive. Hey, you’ve survived his complaints that you’re still a spinster at the ripe old age of thirty-one.”

“I’m not ready for hearth and husband. I have galaxies to explore.”

“Mom found a way to do both.”

“But she forgot to hand down her multitasking gene to me. I can’t focus on more than one thing at a time.”

Megan hooked her arm through Cam’s and headed upstairs. “Yeah, but you got the looks in the family. Sit next to me at dinner and steer the conversation away from anything awkward, would you?”

Camry gave an exaggerated sigh. “See why I’m scared of getting pregnant? In only five months, you’ve gone from being the family brat to the family mouse.”

“Oh, I might still have a few pranks up my sleeve,” Megan said with a laugh.

Megan’s fears about dinner were soon put to rest, as the main topic of conversation was last night’s break-in at the Bakery & Bistro.

That, and the town’s sexy new police chief.

Well, the men weren’t referring to Jack Stone as sexy, but Megan’s twin sister, Chelsea, certainly was—much to her husband’s dismay. “He’s not very tall, but he sure does fill out a police jacket nicely,” Chelsea said to Camry. “And he’s got a bit of a swagger. You should ask him out.”

“I’m leaving in four days,” Cam reminded her. “So what would be the point?”

“A couple of fun dates?” Chelsea offered. “You need to start dating again, and you could practice on Jack Stone.”

“Exactly how does one practice dating?” Cam asked with a laugh. “Besides, my life is full enough without adding a man to the mix.” She glanced at Megan, who sat between them. “Meg’s available. Fix her up with swaggering Jack Stone.”

Megan side-kicked Cam in the leg.

“There’s no reason you can’t date,” Cam muttered, reaching under the table to rub her shin.

“So,” Grace MacKeage piped up. “Do they have any idea who broke into the bakery? Or why? Marge never leaves cash in the shop overnight. And who’d want to steal day-old doughnuts?”

“I spoke with Simon Pratt when I was in town this afternoon,” Chelsea said. “Did any of you know he’d gone to the police academy?”

Megan’s younger sister, Elizabeth, shook her head. “I had him in school, and he’s the last person I expected to see in law enforcement. Simon spent more time in the principal’s office than he did in class. The selectmen must have hired him because he’s a local, since Chief Stone is from away.”

“That’s another thing Simon told me,” Chelsea added. “He said his boss doesn’t like being called chief because he’s half Canadian Cree.”

“Is it significant that Stone is a Canadian Cree?” Greylen MacKeage asked from the head of the table. “If he’s an Indian chief, he should be proud of that fact. And if he’s our chief of police, it’s only respectful that we use his title.”

Grace covered her husband’s hand. “Chief can sometimes be taken in a derogatory context, Grey,” she explained. “It’s a sensitive area for First Nation People, as they’re called in Canada. Maybe you should just call him Mr. Stone when you meet him. Or Jack.”

Greylen got a twinkle in his eye. “Maybe I’ll introduce myself as Laird MacKeage.”

Camry snorted. “Oh, that’ll help Megan get a date with him. Men just beg to go out with us when you’re acting the laird.” She pointed her fork at him. “You scared off half my boyfriends in high school with that act.”

Greylen nodded solemnly, though the twinkle remained in his eyes. “You may thank me later, daughter, for making sure you made it to college.”

“So what was stolen from the bakery?” Matt Gregor asked.

“Nothing but day-old doughnuts and some pies, according to Simon,” Chelsea said. “But they trashed the place in the process.”

“I told ye to gather some men and root out those no-goods,” Father Daar said, looking at Greylen. “Ye should have done it last month, when they strung those Christmas lights all over your old snowcat. Didn’t I warn ye their pranks would get worse?” He drove his fork into his potatoes. “They’ll be coming up to my place next, I tell ye. An old man living alone makes a good target.”

“That’s a good point, Father,” Kenzie said. “Which is why I’ve been thinking to move in with you. Ye no longer have the magic to help make things easy, and I’m needing a place to live. I can chop your wood and lug your water. It could work out well for both of us.”

Daar glared at Greylen. “I don’t need a babysitter—especially a pagan from the Gregor clan. Just catch the vandals so we’ll be safe again.”

“We now have policemen to keep us safe,” Grey returned. “We no longer can take matters into our own hands. And I think it’s a good idea for Kenzie to move in with you.” He looked at Kenzie. “You’re sure you wish to do this? Ye know you’re welcome to stay here. And Daar is our obligation, not yours.”

“I’m not having that black devil in my home!” Daar banged his fork on the table. “I don’t want anyone living with me.”

“Father,” Grace interjected, touching his arm. “You can’t continue to live alone. You could fall and break a leg, and it might be hours or days before someone showed up. This is a wise move, and it’s very kind of Kenzie to offer.” She gave Kenzie a crooked smile. “Especially considering how well he knows you.”

“I believe Daar and I will get along fine,” Kenzie said, grinning at the scowling priest. “Besides, I’ve a need to feel the forest around me again.”

“Can ye cook, Gregor?” Daar asked.

Kenzie nodded.

“Then ye best be providing your own food. I’m a priest, ye know, and have taken a vow of poverty. I can’t have ye eating me out of house and home.”

“I will provide for both of us, Father.” Kenzie turned to his brother. “Have you sensed anything different in the air lately?”

“Like what?” Matt asked in surprise. His eyes narrowed. “You can feel something?”

Kenzie shrugged. “It’s more of a smell, but nothing I recognize. It’s…unnatural. Pungent.”

“I’ve felt nothing,” Matt said. “Have you, Winter?”

“Nope. The only thing I’ve been feeling lately is tired. I had no idea growing a baby was so hard.” She looked at her mother. “How did you survive five pregnancies, especially two sets of twins?”

“I wasn’t running an art gallery, getting married, building a house, and saving the world while carrying any of you girls,” Grace said with a laugh. “You’ll start feeling better now that you’re into your second trimester.” She looked at Megan. “You seem to have gotten your energy back all of a sudden. And from the glow on your face, I’d say trouble’s brewing. What are you up to now?”

Megan gave her an innocent look. “I’m five months’ pregnant. I’m supposed to glow.”

“What’s up, daughter?” Greylen demanded. “I’ve also noticed that look in your eyes that ye get whenever you’re scheming.”

“Maybe I’m just thinking about Cam’s suggestion that I ask Jack Stone on a date.”

Cam choked on her food and Megan reached over and slapped her on the back.

“You don’t have to jump out of the frying pan into the fire,” Cam said. “And you do realize the man carries a gun for a living?”

Ignoring her, Meg looked at Chelsea. “How tall is Jack Stone?”

“A couple inches under six feet, I guess. Simon pointed him out as he was walking to his cruiser.”

Megan went back to eating, satisfied that she’d turned her parents’ scrutiny away from her.

But Cam, apparently, wasn’t done causing trouble. “Then let’s double-date,” she suggested. “You can ask out Jack Stone, and Kenzie, you can be my date. We could all go to dinner in Greenville tomorrow night.”

Several bites of food got stuck in several windpipes at that announcement.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve gone on a…a date,” Kenzie said into the silence. “I’m not sure what’s expected of me in this century.”

“You don’t have to do any thing,” Cam drawled. “Just leave your sword home and be your big, handsome self.”

Megan glared at Cam. “For all we know, Jack Stone is married.”

“No, he’s not,” Chelsea piped up. “Simon told me he helped Stone move into the Watson place on the lake, and that he’s definitely a bachelor. He doesn’t own enough stuff to fill a pickup.”

Megan wanted to strangle both of her sisters.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, Megan,” Grace said. “You should wear that new maternity outfit Winter gave you for Christmas.”

“I can’t go out tomorrow night,” she said, quickly backtracking. “I’m driving to Augusta to apply for a position that just opened up.”

“I didn’t know you were looking for a job,” Grace said.

“Meg found a posting for a field biologist right here on Pine Lake,” Cam said. “But I think there’s something strange about it. What are the chances of a job suddenly opening up right here, right now?”

“Why is that strange?” Greylen asked.

“It’s being privately funded. You remember what happened to Aunt Sadie, don’t you? This could also be a scam.”

“It isn’t,” Megan countered. “A freelance biologist named Mark Collins is heading up an impact study of the wildlife in this watershed. It’s required, to build a new resort.”

“We didn’t have to do an impact study when we built our ski resort,” Grey pointed out.

“That was thirty-six years ago, Daddy. Today you can’t build anything without first studying the consequences.”

“But why do you want this job? You’re going to be very busy in four more months.” He cradled his arms as if he were rocking a baby.

Megan smiled. “I’ll get one of those baby backpacks.” She looked at her mother. “That’s how you carried Robbie when you brought him home from Virginia, and you told us Daddy carried all us girls in a pack until we could walk. I can’t think of a better way to spend my first summer with my child—out in the field doing what I love.”

“It sounds like a wonderful idea,” Grace said.

“And you’ll still be able to live here at Gù Brath,” her father added.

Megan shook her head. “I’m going to look for my own place.”

“Why?” Elizabeth asked.

“Because I’m too old to be living at home with my parents. And because I need to start building a nest in which to raise my child.”

No one disputed that reasoning, though her father looked like she’d just kicked him in the shin.

“We will discuss your moving out tomorrow night, when you return from speaking with Mark Collins,” he said.

Megan sighed and nodded. She might be twenty-nine and living on her own for ten years, but there was nothing like running back home to Daddy to make a girl feel nine years old again.

Chapter Four

B eing the chief of police had its perks, Jack realized as he walked around Pine Creek PowerSports. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had let him shop after-hours. Then again, thinking Jack was about to drop ten grand on a snowmobile might be the real reason Paul Dempsey didn’t mind missing dinner.

“If you’re looking for speed, this is the baby you want,” Dempsey said, patting the dark cherry cowling of a snowmobile that looked as if it belonged in a Star Wars movie. “Don’t let the fact that it’s a four-stroke scare you off. She’s got plenty of get-up-and-go, and her top end is one hundred and nine miles per hour right out of the crate.”

Get-up-and-go sounded good. Apparently this machine could live up to its looks. “I don’t see a hitch for a fishing sled.” Jack bent over to study the mess of wires and engine parts exposed when Dempsey lifted the cowling.

“This baby isn’t for fishing!” Paul said. “It’s designed for trail riding.”

“So I can’t ride trails and fish with it?”

Paul looked wounded. “Well, you could. But it’d be a sin to hitch a sled behind this beauty.” He gently closed the cowling with a sigh and crossed the crowded showroom. “If you’re looking mostly to fish, you’ll want this one,” he said, stopping beside a bigger and definitely less aerodynamic snowmobile. “It’s got a longer track, the clutch is geared lower for towing, and it’s a two-stroke. This is the workhorse of the fleet.”

It was also three grand cheaper.

Jack looked back at the dark cherry snowmobile.

Dempsey immediately returned to the expensive machine. “People sit up and take notice when a man shows up on a sled like this one.” He pulled a rag from his back pocket and he started to caress the hood, more than polish it. “Ain’t nothing on this lake that can catch it. And being a four-stroke, it’ll give you better gas mileage, as well as run quieter and cleaner.”

Jack looked back at the fishing machine. Damn, it was ugly. “If I buy one tonight, can you deliver it to my house tomorrow? I’m renting the Watson place in Frog Cove, out on the end of the point.”

Dempsey shook his head. “Don’t gotta deliver it. You can just drive it home.”

“It’s got to be ten miles out to my place.”

“Don’t matter. You just go down the side of this road here, cut through the center of town to the lake, and head up the western shoreline. It’ll take you twenty minutes, tops.”