Her knees began to shake, and with an effort of will she steadied them. “Do you know who it is?”

He shook his head. “I think so, but like I said, the birds have been – ” He swallowed again.

She stared at him, her lips parting.

He took her hand and pulled. “Come on. We’ve got to find Kate. Or Jim.”

Four of the six-man construction crew was beavering away at the framing, while the other two were unloading more two-by-fours from the back of the flatbed truck that had followed the backhoe into the Park. As fast as they could unload it, the framers were able to keep up, and kept the unloaders hopping.

Looked like progress to Jim, and he turned and looked down the hill. Spruce, birch, and alder interrupted now and then by a cluster of mammoth cottonwood crowded the hillside. The dark green roof of the Niniltna Native Association offices was about a thousand feet down on the left, and after that it was pretty much all trees for half a mile until they ended abruptly in the airstrip, a jumble of Niniltna rooftops, and the Kanuyaq River. It was a bright, clear day, the sky washed clean by a morning shower, and everything looked as bright and shiny and inviting as a king salmon hitting fresh water for the first time.

The foreman came up to him, a thickset man in his middle thirties with big, calloused hands and brown skin that was half race and half making his living outdoors in all weather. He removed his hard hat, revealing a head shaved down to the skin, and wiped his arm across his forehead. “If the weather holds I don’t know why you can’t be in by this time next month. It’s not that big a project.” He spat. “You say something about a house?”

“Yeah, Jim,” a voice said, “you say something about a house?”

He looked around to see Dinah standing next to him, a smile that was a little more nasty than it was nice on her face. “Haven’t got a site for the house yet,” he told the foreman.

“Really?” Dinah said innocently. “What about that acre you bought from Ruthe, down on the river? Plenty of room for a decent size house, I’d‘ve thought. You’ll want three bedrooms, of course, one for you and the missus, one for your office, one for hers.”

“Missus?” the foreman said. He was from Ahtna, and Ahtna knew all about Chopper Jim Chopin. The foreman was married with three children, and like many such had given the occasional wistful thought to the freedom of his bachelor days. It comforted him to know that Chopper Jim was out there living them for him, and he was caught between amazement and a slight sense of betrayal at the thought that his idol might have fallen from his pedestal. He couldn’t prevent a look of deep reproach.

Jim set his teeth. “Is there something I can help you with, Dinah?”

She gave him a sunny smile. “Now that you mention it, yes.” She motioned him to one side. “It’s about Kate.”

He was immediately wary and it showed.

She flapped a hand. “Calm down. This is about her cabin.” Her voice sunk to a confidential murmur. He listened, his suspicions gradually fading. At one point he held up a hand. “Wait a minute,” he said, and went to talk to the foreman. “Okay with him,” he said, coming back a few moments later. “Turns out a while back Kate helped find his sister when she ran off to Anchorage.”

“We’ll get a lot of that,” Dinah said. “Good, great. I’ll talk to Auntie Vi and Bernie. How about you?”

“How about me? How about I get back to work?”

“How’s it coming? Any breaking news on the Len Dreyer/ Leon Duffy front?”

He sighed deeply. “So, you’ve heard.”

She gave him a look of total scorn.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said.

“A lot of people are upset about his record.”

“They worried about their kids?”

“I was just up at the school. I did a video for the freshman health class and I took it up for the teachers and the principal to preview. They’re all talking about Duffy.”

“Maybe that should be my next stop.”

“Maybe it should. I would think a pissed-off parent would have the best motivation for murder in the world.” She added, “And there have already been a few parents up there, banging around, wanting to know what’s being done.”

“Great,” he said.

“They’re scared,” she said, somber, “and I don’t blame them. They’re terrified what horrible things might have been done to their children, what they might have allowed to happen. And when you live in the Park, this kind of thing is such a shock. There are so few of us in such an enormous space, we depend so heavily on each other. You just don’t think the neighbor who repairs your roof at cost plus a cord of wood is going to attack your child when your back is turned. No, I don’t blame them,” she repeated. “If Katya-he was on our roof for four days straight, Jim. If Dreyer had touched Katya, if he had even looked at her the wrong way, I would have burned down the house with him on top of it. And that’s only if Bobby hadn’t gotten to him first.”

She spoke with an intensity and conviction that demanded both belief and respect. He touched her shoulder, a gesture of comfort. After a moment she was able to smile. “Sorry. It just gets to me.”

“Which parents were up to the school?”

Dinah thought back. “Cindy and Ben Bingley. Demetri Totemoff. Arlene and Gerald Kompkoff. Billy and Annie Mike. The Kvasnikofs.”

“Which Kvasnikofs?”

Her brow creased. “All three couples, I think, and Eknaty Sr. and Dorothy, as well.” She counted mentally. “And a few I don’t know.”

He wrote the names down on a list. She watched him. When he was done, she said, “Jim, what if one of them did it? What if one of them killed Dreyer?”

“I know, Dinah. You have to remember that whoever killed Dreyer tried to kill Kate, too. And would have gotten Johnny as a bonus if he’d succeeded.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No. And he won’t.” He tucked the notebook away.

“Jim-”

She might have said more but for the four-wheeler roaring up, Johnny Morgan on board with Vanessa Cox clinging on behind. They veered off the road so abruptly that Jim and Dinah leapt back out of the way. The four-wheeler locked up and skidded sideways, sliding to a halt just inches away.

“Watch it, damn it!” Jim started to say, and then he got a good look at Johnny’s face. “What’s wrong?” he said instead.

Johnny swallowed hard, an agonized expression on his face. He opened his mouth and nothing came out.

Without knowing how it had happened, Jim found Johnny’s shoulders between his hands, Johnny’s feet dangling a good foot above the ground, and Johnny’s face, even whiter than it had been, two inches from his nose. “What. Is. Wrong,” he heard someone say from very far off. The hands gripping Johnny’s shoulders gave him a shake. It didn’t look like much of a shake, but Johnny’s head jogged back and forward again. “Where. Is. Kate,” he heard that other person’s voice say, louder now.

“Jim. Jim, let the boy go. Let him go now. Jim! Let the boy down, damn it! Jim!”

He felt a sharp pain in his knee and looked down with some astonishment to see Dinah pulling back to kick him again. “I’ll do it!” she said fiercely. “Put the boy down!”

He looked back at Johnny and realized it was his own hands holding Johnny in the air. “Oh,” that other voice said. “I’m sorry.”

He lowered Johnny to the ground without letting go of him. “I’m sorry, Johnny.” It hardly seemed adequate, especially when he looked over Johnny’s shoulder to see the Cox girl, her face as white as Johnny’s, still on the seat of the four-wheeler with her arms wrapped around her middle looking like she was going to vomit. “Christ,” he said. His hearing came back suddenly. “Christ,” he said again. “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

Some of the color returned to the boy’s face and he looked at Jim like he was seeing a human being instead of a monster. Jim knew a keen and sudden shame. “I’m sorry as hell, kid,” he told him. “What’s wrong?” He tried not to cringe while waiting for the answer, and didn’t question the wave of relief that threatened to swamp him when Johnny did.