Fire and Ice (Liam Campbell Mysteries)
Alaska State Trooper Liam Campbell was a young go-getter with everything going his way--a rich wife, a loving son, and a career ready to take off. But then it all fell to pieces. A drunk driver took his family, a tragic miscalculation took his career, and the bottle was about to take everything else...until Liam found himself on a plane to his new posting--a small native town far from the big city comforts of Anchorage. And fate isn't finished with him yet. No sooner does he set foot off the plane than he is confronted with a suspiciously dead body, an office going to hell in a handbasket, and the accusing glare of the only woman he'd ever truly loved...and lost. Featuring richly drawn-out characters and a spellbindingly rugged location, Fire And Ice is Dana Stabenow's most thoroughly enjoyable work to date, and is the first installment of a terrific new mystery series!
by hand? I take it that isn’t standard procedure.” He looked at Gruber because he wasn’t sure what his face would show if he looked at Wy. “No.” Gruber looked at the pilot standing silently next to the trooper. Liam waited. “He was an old-timer,” she said finally. “An old-timer? What’s that got to do with anything?” She looked up, and slowly Liam turned to meet her eyes, which were as bleak as her voice. “A lot of the old-time pilots are used to the old round engines, which had a habit of
one hand and fumbled around until he found the receiver. “Hello?” Shivering, he slid back inside the plaid lining and tried to generate a little body heat. “Oh. Hello, John.” “There’s no easy way to put this, Liam,” John said, wasting no time on politesse. “Wy needs money, and she needs it bad. She’s running a tab with everyone—Chevron, NC, she took out a second mortgage on her business, which payments have been late a time or two. No wonder she decided to spot herring.” Liam was wide awake
as he was, John Dillinger Barton took no pleasure in being the bearer of bad news. “The only person Wy doesn’t owe is her mechanic. She’s been paying his bills regularly every month.” “What’s his name?” “Fred Barnes, as in Fred’s Fly-in and Fix-it Shop. He’s in Newenham, close to the airport from the address.” There was a perfunctory knock on the door. It opened, and Wy stuck her head in. “It’s six o'clock; come on, we’ve got to get in the air.” “Who’s that?” Barton demanded. “My pilot,”
jutted out of the sea to the east and west, forming a vague similarity to a Dutch girl’s winged cap, at low tide and from a distance. Life clutched tenaciously to the steep sides in the form of thick grass and brush and a swarm of slender black seabirds. “What are they?” Liam said. Wy looked through her binoculars. “Murres, I think.” She let the lenses wander. “Well, well,” she said with an undertone of excitement that made Liam sit up. “What have we here?” She put the Cub in a slow, wide
“Eighteen hundred.” “Eighteen hundred a ton?” Wy’s voice scaled up. “We actually got eighteen hundred dollars a ton?” “Eighteen hundred a ton,” Wolfe confirmed. “Here’s your copy of the fish ticket.” Liam moved to stare over Wy’s shoulder at the sheet of paper Wolfe handed her. He also had the check from the processor with him, which Wolfe flourished like the banner of a conquering hero. So many decimal places made Liam dizzy. “This oughta pay for fixing up that plane of yours, Chouinard,”