Free Melting the Ice by Loreth Anne White Page A

number of the Vancouver library. She glanced at her watch. There should still be someone there this time on a Saturday.
    “Vancouver Public Library, how may I help you?”
    “Yes, hi, I have a couple of titles here.” She rummaged quickly in the bag, pulling them out. “I think they belong to a deceased friend of mine and I was wondering if you could help me out by telling me when they were borrowed.”
    “Certainly. One moment.”
    Hannah was put through to another person who asked for the titles. It was the first time she’d seen the books, and as she read the titles out loud, the seriousness of the situation started to seep in. Biological Agents Used in Assassination, and Mapping Human Genes—Implications in Biological Warfare and Genetically Engineered Biological Weapons.
    What on earth was Amy up to?
    “Okay, I’ve pulled up the file here.” The voice was perky. “Yes, those were signed out by Grady Fisher on the fifteenth of September last year. They’re almost a year overdue but we can certainly waive any charges under these circumstances.”
    “Who did you say signed the books out?”
    “Grady Fisher.”
    Hannah didn’t know any Grady Fisher. “Ah…do you have an address registered on file for Mr. Fisher?”
    “Sorry. I thought you said the borrower was deceased, a friend of yours.”
    Hannah’s mind raced through the possibilities. “Well, her books must have been signed out in someone else’s name. Is it possible to get this Grady Fisher’s address?”
    “Sorry. Library policy. We can’t give out that sort of information.”
    Hannah hung up.
    Grady Fisher. Perhaps one of Amy’s friends knew who he was. Perhaps if they could find Grady, he might have some answers.
    She stood up from the desk and walked over to the French doors. She pulled them open with both hands, and the scents of the mountain immediately blew into the room in a rush of fragrant air. It smelled of straw and honey and earth.
    Hannah stepped out onto the small balcony. Six floors down lay the sparkling pool. There was nothing between the back of the hotel property and the ski slopes. In winter, skiers and boarders carved their way right down to the hotel doors, or they crunched along the pathway to the village as steam rose from the heated pool.
    Hannah drank in the late-afternoon air. She could see why the hotel was a favorite of honeymooning couples and why the White River marriage commissioner did such a brisk trade. People came from all over the world to tie the knot in these mountains, hoping their love would be as enduring as the snow-capped granite peaks that inspired them.
    But she had run to White River as an escape. She had run from love. Well, at least for her it had been love.
    Hannah watched as a couple, the man with a baby in a carrier on his back, picked their way slowly down the hiking trail toward the hotel. She had always known she would have children. She had dreamed that she could make it all possible, kids, her successful career, a proper family…a storybook family.
    Well, that was for storybooks. She did have a child. It was not the way she had planned things, but she had a wonderful, beautiful son and she was going to make the best of what she did have. She had been doing fine, until now.
    Danny, she needed to phone Danny. She needed to make contact with him, to hear his little voice, to ground herself.
    Hannah stepped back into the hotel room and eyed the phone. No, not here. She didn’t want Rex to be able to hear.
    He was still in the shower; she could hear the splash of the water.
    Now was her chance.
    She gathered up her purse and sweater and walked quickly across the soft carpet to the door. She put her hand on the knob, pausing to listen for the shower.
    It stopped. She’d better hurry. She pulled open the door and made a dash for the elevator.
    Rex stepped out of the shower in a fog of steam, feeling vaguely human again. He wrapped a towel around his waist and rubbed a circle clear in the