Free Hot Ice by Gregg Loomis Page B

villa, even if it meant a nonhazardous trip to Iceland to simply see what is going on.”
    “Wasn’t nonhazardous for Boris,” Jason observed dryly.
    Momma leaned over to pat his leg. “I can see your point of view. Boris was … was investigating something someone saw as none of his business. As the closest contractor—”
    “Closest former contractor.”
    “Yes. Well …”
    Jason suppressed a sigh. This side of Momma, charm and acquiescence, was new to him, even if her manipulative nature still showed.
    He should have recognized the slow curveball.
    The fast break over the plate came soon enough. “Of course, I suppose you will have to be leaving here shortly. A pity.”
    Maria was immediately concerned. “Leave? That is what Jason said. Do you really think we have to?”
    Momma clucked sympathetically. “Sweetie, unless you believe the driver of that cement truck was vacationing here and just happened across Jason, you can bet his head-chopping friends will follow. I would be surprised if one of their filthy, hateful mullahs hadn’t declared a fatwa, or death writ, against Jason. You can also make a safe wager those people don’t care whom they might injure or kill—you, your housekeeper … anybody who gets in the way of their trying to get to Jason.”
    Maria looked over her shoulder, an involuntary response that said she was already alert for lurking assassins. “But where can we go? I mean, if they found us here …”
    “I’ve given that some thought,” Momma said, a concerned parent helping solve a child’s problems. “If Jason would sign on to just investigate this matter … Well, there’s no reason for him to get involved in the actual operation but he—and you if you wish—would be working from a safe and secure base.”
    “Like I said, I’m retired. Besides, there are a lot of places on the face of the earth I haven’t seen yet.”
    Momma switched directions as quickly as an unsuccessful base-stealer caught in a rundown. She stood. “Well, don’t say I didn’t try, Jason. After our long relationship, it seemed fitting to offer you safe haven when you needed it, but you have always been an independent soul.”
    “Wait,” Maria had a hand on Momma’s massive arm. “Exactly where did you have in mind?”
    “For the moment, Iceland, of course.”

11
Ischia Ponte
    “Iceland?” Maria asked, her excitement obvious.
    “What’s with Iceland?” Jason asked.
    Momma looked at him. “I thought I said that: It’s where Boris is now. In a hospital, not talking to police.”
    “Perfect!”
    They both tuned to Maria.
    “It’s perfect,” she said again. “About one hundred and thirty volcanoes, including Eyjafjallajökull, its monster eruptions shut down European air travel for nearly two months in 2010.”
    She made it sound like an accomplishment.
    “Thermal volcanoes, too, like Yellowstone in the United States. I haven’t been there in years.” Her enthusiasm ebbed as she turned to face Jason. Why can’t we go?”
    Both Jason and Momma were staring at her.
    Jason noted Momma’s eyes narrow slightly, a sure sign something devious was going on behind them. “Excellent! If you and I can persuade Jason to manage to find out what happened to Boris, your expertise will be very helpful. Maybe my company might sponsor a trip down inside this, er, big volcano. How many people would that involve?”
    Jason was instantly suspicious. “How?”
    “Well,” Momma said sweetly, “you know I can’t divulge a confidence, but I can say Boris was in Iceland on a matter related to the geology of the place.”
    Jason was having a hard time seeing anyone getting shot over the study of rocks, plus Momma’s penchant for scheme and intrigue was as indigenous to her nature as heat and rain to her native Haiti.
    “Exactly what would you expect Jason to do?” Maria wanted to know, obviously enticed by the prospect of a funded expedition.
    Momma studied thin air for a theatrical moment. “Well,