Free Breakup by Dana Stabenow Page B

perfected it on the TransAlaska Pipeline before deserting the rotor for fixed wing and starting an air taxi in the Park. He was also one of five ex-husbands of Ramona Halford, the right-wing state senator representing the area of Alaska that included the Park, which all by itself had been an education in expletive deleted.
    Over his shoulder, Kate caught sight of the widower, staring down into the bed of the truck at the body, cocooned in a blu e plastic tarp. A few feet away stood the Bakers, color back in their faces and by the wideness of their eyes evidently improving their vocabulary with George's able assistance.
    Cravenly, Kate ducked down again to help Ben Bingley out of the plane. This wasn't easy, as Ben had heard George's lengthy and comprehensive address and somehow received the impression that George might hold him in some small measure accountable for the ground loop. He was of course absolutely innocent of anything of the kind, but he had decided he would stay in the plane for a while, like maybe until George went home, or perhaps left the Park forever.
    So he held on to the back of the pilot's seat, refusing to let Kate pull it forward, until she had to kneel down in the slush. The aroma of beer-based puke was gagging and Kate lost her temper. "Ben, stop being such a big baby and get your ass out of this friggin' plane."
    Ben was more scared of a mildly pissed Kate Shugak than he was of George Perry at full volume and he wavered. "You promise you won't let him hurt me?"
    "I'll kill you, you stupid little shit!" George said from above.
    "I promise," Kate said, more temperate now. Somebody had to be. "Come on out, Ben."
    "I don't know," Ben said doubtfully, "he sounds awful mad."
    "He's just shook up from dinging the plane. Come on out, Ben."
    "I'll rip your fucking guts out and use them for crab bait! "
    "Maybe you could just bring me a beer," Ben said hopefully.
    "I'll feed your sorry ass to the first bear to come down the pike!"
    Kate winced, and was glad that in her current position she couldn't see the expression on her three passengers' faces.
    George ran out of breath and threats and Ben finally did come out, standing so as to keep Kate between himself and the enraged pilot at all times.
    Kate began negotiations toward a truce and was making some headway when Ben's wife appeared on the airstrip. It became immediately apparent that he had way worse problems to deal wit h than a plane wreck, an enraged bush pilot and vomit down the front of his shirt.
    Cindy had left the house without her jacket but not without her 9mm Smith and Wesson, which she held in a business-like grip with the business end pointed at Ben.
    "Whoa!" George said, startled out of his wrath.
    "You little prick," Cindy said.
    "Now, Cindy," Kate said, eyes almost crossed on the barrel beneath her nose, trying to see if the pistol was loaded. She could tell it was an automatic, but the way Cindy kept waving it around she couldn't tell if there was a clip in the butt Might be one in the chamber anyway, so she wasn't safe whether she could see the clip or not, and stopped trying.
    "Now, honey," Ben said, peering fearfully over Kate's shoulder.
    "I hate breakup," George said.
    "Get out of my way, Kate!" Cindy snarled. "That son of a bitch stole the kids' quarterly dividends and probably drank up every last damn dime! Why the hell don't you people do something so he can't get his hands on the money!"
    "I'm not on the board," Kate said.
    Cindy dismissed this spineless and specious attempt at diversion with a contemptuous wave of the pistol that brought George into the line of fire. George took a hasty step backward, slipped and sat down hard in a puddle. "You're Ekaterina's granddaughter, you say jump, they say how high, who cares about titles! How am I going to feed the kids until the salmon start running? Huh? How?"

Kate had no answer for her, and Cindy's smoldering gaze fixed upon her cringing husband. "I told you, Ben, I told you if you ever