No Fixed Line by Stabenow Dana

Author:Stabenow, Dana [Stabenow, Dana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Mystery, Kate Shugak, Suspense, Crime, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781788548977
Amazon: B0BPCLGDZP
Goodreads: 194617211
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 2020-01-09T08:00:00+00:00

They were getting into the Subaru when her phone rang. It was Jim, and just the sight of his name on her screen gave her a pleasurable thrill. She shook her head and answered. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. Where the hell are you?”

She looked up at Curley’s house. “Camelot. With a side of the Inferno.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’ll explain later. What’s up?”

“Later is sooner than you think, babe. I’m on my way into town.”

“Oh?” She sternly repressed any tendency to squeal with delight. Mutt would only make fun of her. “When will you be in?”

His voice dropped an octave. “Bedtime. Be naked.”

“Promises, promises.” But she hung up with a big grin all over her face. If Mutt could have raised one eyebrow, she would have. “Oh shut up,” Kate told her, and was saved from annihilation only by the phone ringing again. This time it was Kurt. “What have you got?”

He sounded frustrated. “Come see for yourself.”

It was getting on for sunset—or as it is known in Alaska in January, about four p.m.—by the time she got to his office. She parked and Mutt raced her up the stairs to the seventh floor. They arrived at Pletnikof Investigations out of breath but pretty pleased with themselves, Kate in particular shaking off the last of the inchoate fury inspired by the tower rooms at Chez Satan. Agrifina Fancyboy, dressed today in a charcoal suit that would have appeared right at home on the runway at Chanel, with one look brought them back to a cowed sense of decorum. They went sedately into Kurt’s office and simultaneously exhaled when the door closed behind them. Kate sat in the chair across from his desk and Mutt trotted around to receive her due, in this case a strip of caribou jerky Kurt kept in his desk just for her.

Kurt looked unusually sulky.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he snapped, and then relented. “Sorry. It’s just that—dammit! I can’t find anything wrong with the Bannister Foundation’s database. He started it even before he went to prison, I think mostly because he knew if he didn’t dump a bunch of his assets into a nonprofit that they’d all be confiscated by law enforcement and he’d have nothing when he got out, and he wasn’t having that.” He scratched his chin absent-mindedly. “He’d been planning to do it for a long time before that, though. He had his attorney write up a set of rudimentary by-laws and had him incorporate the Bannister Foundation in the state of Alaska five years before he had me left for dead—” Kate made a rude noise and rolled her eyes “— and he applied for and got nonprofit certification a year later.”

“Alaska’s answer to Andrew Carnegie,” Kate said. “One of the rape, ruin, and run boys buying a modern indulgence, only not from the church, from the state.”

He stared at her. “Kate, sometimes you sound like you’re speaking in tongues.”

“You had to have read Barbara Tuchman.” She waved him on. “What else?”

He tossed her a folder and sat back in his chair.

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