"Oh. Of course. I knew who you meant, the name just slipped my mind for a moment. Press of business and all."

It was a weak defense, and both men knew it. "You even talked to him?"

"Jim Earl," Liam said, a trifle impatiently, "I've been on the ground here in Newenham for"-he checked his watch-"not quite three days. I walked into the middle of a murder and two shootings, and I haven't had time to find someone to press my uniform, much less a place to stay. No, I haven't talked to Kelly McCormick. I've asked around about him. I haven't found out much, and I haven't found him."

With awful sarcasm, Jim Earl inquired, "Did you think of looking for him on his boat? Or at his girlfriend's?"

"I didn't know he had a boat. Or a girlfriend."

"Of course he's got a girlfriend," Jim Earl snapped. "Every girl in this town is looking for a way out of it from the time she reaches puberty on, and the fastest way to get out of it is to waggle their tail feathers in front of some young rooster with a boat and a permit."

"And Kelly McCormick qualifies?"

"You bet your ass he does," Jim Earl said. "In fact the only good thing I can find to say about that boy is that when he's sober, he's one hell of a worker. He catches himself one hell of a lot of salmon. 'Course he immediately drinks it all right down, so that don't mean one hell of a lot."

"What's his boat's name?"

"Hell, I don't know. He called it after some kinda booze or other, the Wild Turkey or the Sloe Gin, something like that."

Liam sighed. "Who's his girlfriend?"

Jim Earl eyed him. "Oh, so I'm supposed to do your work for you, is that it? Listen, boy, I don't expect one hell of a lot out of the Alaska State Troopers, considering the last three to occupy your spot."

The last three? Liam thought. So far he'd only heard about two. Was John holding out on him? What other horror in the Newenham trooper post's past was he responsible for living down?

"Well, hell, all that's past praying for, and at least you can't get knocked up." Jim Earl fixed him with a steely eye. "You can do your job, however, and I expect you to, and one part of your job is to find and arrest the man who fired on our postmaster. The Reverend Gilbert is a fine, good, upstanding, moral man, who never-"

"Reverend?" Liam said.

Jim Earl was momentarily thrown off his stride. "Oh. Ah. Well. Yes. Our postmaster is also the minister of one of our local churches." He brushed this aside brusquely. "But we're getting off track. Yes, one of our young women has set her sights on Kelly McCormick, and yes, he's keeping company with her."

"Does this young woman have a name?"

"Of course she has a name. Oh. Candy. Candy Choknok."

"Where does she live?"

"With her parents, of course."

"Fine," Liam said patiently, "and they live where?"

"Mile 5 on the Lake Road, you can't miss it. The local Native association has a subdivision going in there; Carl Choknok's the chairman of the board, he got the first house. First house on the right as you turn right, big blue mother."

There was still plenty of light for a drive out the Lake Road, also known as the Icky road. Not to mention which, it was always good for a trooper stationed in the Bush to curry favor with whatever local authorities there were. Liam combed his hair and then immediately ruined the effect by pulling on the gimme cap with the state trooper insignia on the crown. The lump on his head had almost vanished, and the band of the cap settled over it comfortably.

It took him longer to find the Lake Road than it did to drive to the Choknoks' house. The road was a high, level pile of gravel packed firm and flat, with no potholes to speak of and wide turns you could take a bulldozer around in perfect confidence that you would not sideswipe any oncoming traffic. Liam got to the five-mile marker in less than ten minutes. On the right side of the road was a large sign proclaiming, THE ANGAYUK NATIVE ASSOCIATION PRESENTS THE ANIPA SUBDIVISION: AFFORDABLE HOMES FOR NATIVE SHAREHOLDERS. A HUD PROGRAM.

That portion of the Lake Road that continued on beyond the sign deteriorated significantly; from where he sat Liam could see washboarding, soft shoulders, and a dozen potholes of a size to compete with the ones on the road from the airport. He turned off it with gratitude.

The first house on the right was big and it was certainly blue, an electric blue that looked as if it might glow in the dark. It was all blue, too-the porch and the steps that led up to it, the window frames, the door, the eaves. The only thing that wasn't blue was the roof, and that was because it was neatly shingled with black asphalt tiles. Liam got the feeling that if it had been at all possible, they would have been blue, too.

As he got out, a raven backwinged to a landing in a nearby tree and was scolded by a squirrel who had thought that it was his spruce. They yelled at each other while Liam went up and knocked on the door of the blue house. A young woman answered. She was short, stocky, and dark-haired, with a round face, clear skin, and intelligent dark eyes. She looked first at the badge on his cap and then at his face. "Hello."

He doffed his cap. "Hello, ma'am. I am State Trooper Liam Campbell. I'm looking for Candy Choknok."

"I'm Candy Choknok," she said.

Someone called from inside the house. "Candy? Who is it?"

"It's all right, Dad, it's for me. We can talk on the porch," she said, stepping outside and closing the door behind her.

"All right," Liam said. They leaned back against opposite sides of the railing and regarded each other in unsmiling silence. "Nice house."

She unbent a trifle. "Thank you."

He tried to break the ice, and gestured at the sign. "I'm new in Newenham, Ms. Choknok. Is "anipa" Yupik for something?"

"Owl," she said.

"Owl," Liam said. "You get a lot of owls hereabouts?"

"A few." She regarded him steadily and without expression.

"I haven't seen any owls myself, at least not yet." The raven clicked at them from the tree. "On the other hand, I have been seeing a whole hell of a lot of ravens."

"Yes."

"Mmm." Enough small talk. "I'm really looking for Kelly McCormick, Ms. Choknok. I need to talk to him about an investigation I am conducting. I have reason to believe that you might know where he is."

"I might," she agreed. She was very much in control of herself and in command of the situation-a selfpossessed young woman, with a natural dignity and a solid presence. "I imagine you want to talk to him about the shooting at the post office yesterday morning."

In Liam's professional experience, very few people were as forthcoming as Ms. Choknok without having an agenda of their own to put into motion. "I might," he agreed cautiously, and pulled out his notebook.

"Kelly's an idiot," she said in a tone of dispassionate observation, "and he is especially idiotic when he has been drinking."

"And had he been drinking yesterday morning?"

"I'd say he'd been drinking pretty much all night," she said coolly. "He started out at Bill's, as I understand it, and then continued on at Tasha's."

"Tasha's?"

"It was a party at a friend's house. Tatiana Anayuk." She spelled it for him and gave him the friend's phone number. "He had been drinking before I got there, and when I left, he still was."

"About what time was that?"

"A little after eleven. My curfew is midnight, and Tasha lives on the bluff south of town. I didn't want to be late. My parents worry."

"I see," Liam said, making a note. "Ms. Choknok, do you have any idea why Mr. McCormick would take it into his head to shoot up the post office?"

For the first time she hesitated, glancing back at the house. "Like I said, he'd been drinking. And when Kelly's been drinking, pretty much anything goes."