Free Fatal Thaw by Dana Stabenow Page A

person.
    She looked until the end of the album, but she never found a single picture of Lottie smiling. As near as Kate could tell, Lottie had been born with a scowl. Or no, not a scowl, that was too strong. Maybe she just never learned to smile, which wasn't quite the same thing. Through the years, her face only became squarer and more stolid. There was no secret fun in Lottie's face, no mischief, in fact little animation of any kind. What struck Kate most was the quality of speechless endurance in that static expression.
    She looked up and saw it repeated in the face across from her, and closed the album with a snap. "Thanks for letting me look at this," she said out loud. "I like looking at old pictures, don't you?"
    "No." You must have had the album out for some reason, Kate thought, but refrained from saying so. Although, looking around, she wasn't sure anything in this house was ever really put away. "Was Lisa seeing anybody when she ... Was there someone special lately?"
    Lottie's lips twisted in a humorless travesty of a smile. "When wasn't there?"
    "Anyone in particular?" "What's it to you?"
    "Just wondering, Lottie," Kate said in a level voice. In a way she was relieved at Lottie's hostility; any thing was better than that inanimate, somehow face less shell. "I knew she was seeing Chopper Jim," she lied.
    "Who wasn't seeing him, at one time or another?"
    "Well, there's me," Kate said, smiling. The shell seemed to crack a little. "That's right. I remember, you never did much like standing in line." "And then there's you, so that makes two of us." Kate tried without success to see through the crack in the shell to what was beneath.
    "Lisa's thing with Jim ended in February." Lottie's voice was without expression.
    "Anyone since then?"
    "It's nobody's business if there was or there wasn't," Lottie said, her fists clenching. "None of it matters now. Lisa's dead. Why don't you just butt out?"
    Lottie was entitled to her grief, and suddenly Kate felt disgusted with her intrusion into that grief. "I'm sorry, Lottie," she said, rising to her feet. From the corner of one eye she caught a glimpse of a gray streak and turned to see the cat curling into a neat ball in the warm place Kate's bottom had left. Kate smiled and turned to share it with Lottie. There was no response from that bleak face. "I'm sorry," Kate repeated, her smile fading. "Oh yeah, I saw George Perry on my way out here. He told me to tell you he needs a guide for a party of Koreans climbing Angqaq."
    'Al "North or south peak?" ` "He didn't say. They're two-timers, though.
    George said to stop by the hangar tomorrow morning if you're interested." Kate gestured at the foil-wrapped package she'd carried in with her. "I brought you some bread. Just baked a batch last week."
    Without expression Lottie jerked her thumb at the kitchen table, and obediently Kate walked over to it. The table wasn't just crowded with the detritus of life; it was stacked with casserole dishes, none of them touched. Some were just beginning to go green on top.
    "Why do people always bring food?" Lottie said from behind her.
    Kate shrugged. "I don't know. Because they want to do something, and it's something to do." She hesitated, almost spoke, and thought, The hell with it. It can wait. She turned and went to the door.
    "Kate," Lottie said.
    Kate paused and looked over her shoulder..
    "Why?" Lottie said. "Why did he do it?" She took a step forward and repeated in that earnest, little-girl voice, "Can you tell me why?" With her hand on the knob, Kate debated with the grain of the wood in the door for a reply. "I don't know, Lottie. Who knows what's going on in the head of someone like that? He's just another crazy. They happen along sometimes." She looked up and sucked in her breath.
    Lottie's pale features seemed blunted somehow, bludgeoned by circumstance into numb acceptance. "Why?" she repeated, looking directly at Kate for the first time. "Why did he do it?"
    Kate, abashed in the