“Really,” Kate said.

The face he presented to her was wide-eyed. “Yeah, right around breakup, I figure.”

“Long time,” Kate said. “He didn’t even come back to go hunting in the fall?”

“Nope.” George hunched over the engine. “Hell of a thing, what moving to Anchorage will do to your priorities.”

“Yeah, hell of a thing,” Kate said.

The cafe was still enough of a novelty to be crowded at noon on Sunday, although Laurel Meganack behind the counter was all by herself enough of a draw for most Park rats. Jeffrey Clark sat alone in a corner, scrupulously polite to Laurel, ignoring everyone else. Jim jerked his head. “What’s with Lord High Everything Else?”

Kate laughed. Jeffrey Clark’s eyes snapped up and narrowed suspiciously. He was sure they were laughing at him, mostly because he didn’t see anything else they could be laughing about.

There were two stools available at the end of the counter. Kate copped the one against the wall and leaned against it so she could face Jim. He ordered their coffee and turned his back on the rest of the room so as to face her. It gave them the illusion of privacy. “I can’t wait till the post gets built,” he said.

She smiled faintly. “Make it easier on the interviews.”

“No kidding.” The coffee came. “Talk.”

She doctored her mug liberally with sugar and evaporated milk, which an intelligent Laurel ordered in by the case and for a serving of which she added fifty cents onto the price. “Okay,” she said, sitting back. “Some of this will be new to you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Talk, Shugak.”

She told him about Enid Koslowski.

He whistled. “Bernie caught them in the act?”

“Yes.”

“There’s motive for murder enough right there.”

She was silent.

“What else?” he said.

She looked over his shoulder at Laurel, carrying five plates in two hands to a table where Old Sam and four of his cronies were waiting. “Seems Bernie and Len both shared the favors of Miss Meganack, here.”

“No kidding?” He hung his chin on his shoulder for a moment. “Can’t say as I blame them.” He looked back at her and noticed no trace of jealousy. That could be either a good thing or a bad thing. “Did she dump one for the other?”

“She says not. She says she was overcome by Len’s tool belt, it was a one-time thing on the floor of the kitchen when he was doing some fix-up stuff for her before the cafe opened. She was surprised when he didn’t try to turn it into more.”

“So am I.”

“I’m not,” she said, “but I’ll get to that in a minute.”

“Take your time, I’m still on the kitchen floor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said without heat. “Enid says it was pretty much the same for her.”

“Enid made the first move?”

“Yeah.”

“Seems a little out of character.”

“It is. It was when Bernie was sleeping with Laurel. Enid found out.”

“Ah,” he said, understanding. “A revenge fuck.”

“Two of them, to be exact.”

“The second one being when Bernie walked in.”

“She seduced Dreyer aka Duffy in one of the cabins. I’m just going to call him Dreyer if you don’t mind,” she added. “Main reason I hate aliases, just gets too damn confusing.”

He considered. “Enid wanted Bernie to catch them at it. Catch her at it.”

“Yeah.”

“Nice little quadrangle, if that’s the right word. Bernie sleeps with Laurel, Enid finds out and sleeps with Dreyer, Dreyer sleeps with Laurel.” He straightened. “Wait a minute. How serious was Bernie about Laurel?”

“Not enough to leave Enid,” Kate said sharply. “And not enough to kill Dreyer, either, even if he knew about Dreyer and Laurel. Which he probably didn’t.”

“Enid can talk,” Jim said.

“I know. But I don’t think she did about this. The less conversation she had with Bernie about Laurel, the better.”

Jim wasn’t slow. “He didn’t care, did he?”

“Who?”

“Bernie. He didn’t care when he caught Enid with Dreyer.”

She said nothing.

“Ouch,” he said. “That had to sting.”

“Not enough to murder.”

He gave her a thoughtful look, and left it alone for now. “What else?” She met his eyes and he said, “Come on, Kate. You’re holding out on me. You found something out in Anchorage. What?”

Laurel came over and topped off their mugs. Kate barely registered on her peripheral vision, but she gave Jim a wide, warm, one might even say inviting smile, and underlined it by putting a little extra into the sway of her hips as she walked away. Waitresses. He watched her go with pure male appreciation. When he turned back he found Kate looking at him, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t change the subject,” he said firmly.

She thought about it, but he was right. She took a deep breath. “Remember Gary Drussell?”

He frowned. “Can’t say as I do.”

“He was a fisherman out of Cordova. Had a homestead about ten miles out of Niniltna. Married. Three daughters.”

About to drink, Jim put his mug down heavily.

“Gary’s had one lousy season after another, going on ten years now. Commercial fishing in Alaska isn’t what it once was. The two oldest daughters were college age or about to be. He decided to sell out, move to Anchorage, and go back to school, learn a new trade. So he put his homestead up for sale. And of course, like every other homestead staked out a hundred years ago, it needed work.”

“And he hired Len Dreyer to do it.”

“Yes.”

“Which daughter?”

“The youngest. I think. Nobody admitted anything. But I’m pretty sure.” Kate shook her head. “I don’t know, the vibes I got from the mom and the other two daughters… well, they were pretty intense. Dreyer might have given them a pass because they were too old, but I’d bet money the youngest girl’s been talking. Gary himself is in total denial.”

With studied casualness, Jim said, “Did you ask him the last time he was in the Park?”

Kate remained silent.

Couldn’t, he thought. Couldn’t bring herself to open that wound any wider. “Does Gary fly?”

“I don’t think so, but I don’t know for sure.” The quickness of her answer told him she’d given it some thought.

“I’ll check for a license. In the meantime, you ask George if he remembers ferrying Drussell in or out last fall.”

She muttered assent.

“Has to be done, Kate. No matter how much it’s starting to look like justifiable homicide.”

“I know. I know. I just… I know.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

They were sitting in glum silence when Kate looked up to see Jeffrey Clark standing at Jim’s shoulder. “I talk to you?” he said.

She was almost glad to see him. “Sure,” she said.

He jerked his head. “Not here.”

She followed him outside.

He pulled the collar of his jacket together. “I want my brother to come home with me.”

“You’ve made that pretty clear,” she said.

“He won’t come.”

“Like I said before,” Kate said, displaying for her a remarkable amount of patience, “that’s pretty much his decision to make.”

He spoke with a kind of dogged persistence that she had to admire. “I want you to help me to convince him that it’s the right thing for him to do.”

Kate did sigh this time. She hated having to repeat herself. “First of all, Bobby is a grown man. He’s kind of already got his pass/fail in Living 101. Second, he’s my best friend, and the surest way I know to screw that up is to start telling him how to live his life. Third? I don’t know that his going home is the right thing to do.”

He glared at her. “Our father is dying.”

“I know the story,” she said, holding up a hand to stem the tide. “Spare me the lecture. Tell me something. Why do you really want Bobby to go home again?” Again, she held up a hand. “No. I want the real reason. From anything Bobby’s told me, your father has been pretty hard-nosed all his life, with fixed notions about right and wrong. Bobby screwed up and your father didn’t just turn his back on him, he condemned him out of hand at Sunday-go-to-meeting in front of all your neighbors and friends. You were there, weren’t you? You saw and heard it?”