01 Storm Peak Read Free Page A

could see.
    “Anyone with him?” she asked, without looking up.
    Tom shook his head, then realized she hadn’t seen the negative answer and said, “Nope. He’s on his own. Booked in for the next four days, they said. They’re booked out down there,” he added irrelevantly.
    “Well, they’ve got themselves a vacancy now,” said Sheriff Torrens, and the three men all nodded. Alexander Howell, naturally enough, didn’t respond.

TWO
    J esse Parker hunched on his stool in the Tugboat Saloon and shoveled another handful of cheese and nachos into his mouth.
    “Hear about the ruckus last night up on the Silver Bullet?” Todd said to him as he passed two margaritas to a pair of bottle blondes farther down the bar.
    Jesse never failed to be fascinated how the barman could keep up a conversation while he served three other people. Never missed a beat either. He nodded. “Guy found dead, as I understand.”
    “Stabbed,” Todd amended. “Knifed once and that was it.”
    “They know why he was killed?” Jesse asked.
    Todd shrugged, moving down the bar to pull two draught Buds in response to a call from a couple of Australian tourists.
    “Those guys sure like their beer,” he commented as he returned, then, in answer to Jesse’s earlier question, “Why not ask the sheriff? There she is now.”
    He nodded his head toward the door. Jesse turned in his seat and saw Lee Torrens entering from the cold night outside. The tall sheriff swiped a few errant snowflakes away from her jacket, then took it off and hung it over the back of a chair as she sat at a table. A few people around greeted her. She nodded in response. Then, looking around the smoky room, she caught sight of Jesse watching her. She raised her eyebrows in greeting and nodded at the empty chair beside her. The meaning was clear.
    Jesse picked up his half-empty Moosehead and slid down from the tall barstool.
    “Catch up with you later, Todd,” he said. The barman nodded and grunted. Carrying his beer, Jesse picked his way through the crowded room to Lee’s table. She was studying the menu and didn’t look up when he dropped into the chair she’d indicated.
    “You should know that by heart,” he ventured. She grinned crookedly, admitting he was right.
    “Guess I keep hoping they’ll surprise me one day” she said. Without even looking, she handed the menu back over her shoulder to a waitress. One thing you could always depend on in the Tugboat, there was always a waitress standing behind you to take the menu, take your order or take your money. They liked to move you in, get you fed and move you out fast.
    “Give me a half-dozen wings,” she said. “And a Coors Light.”
    The waitress slid the menu under her arm and wrote rapidly on her order pad.
    “Got it,” she said.
    “And bring me a bunch of paper towels,” she added. She smiled up at the girl.
    “Got it,” the waitress replied again. There was no answering smile. There was no time for that in the Tugboat. You wanted smiles, go someplace else. She hurried away.
    “So how’s the case going?”
    He didn’t need to say what case he was talking about. With a dead body found in the trash container on the gondola, it was unlikely that he’d be talking about any other case. Lee shook her head doubtfully.
    “Damned if I know, Jess. All we got is a body and a name. No reason. No motive. No suspects. No murder weapon.” She slumped back in the wooden chair, stretching her long legs out under the table.
    “Don’t even know for sure what the murder weapon was,” she concluded. Jesse frowned.
    “Way I heard, it’s a stabbing. You’re looking for a knife, aren’t you?”
    Lee shrugged. “Strange kind of knife. Long, long blade. Very narrow. Went in up under the chin, through the tongue and the roof of the mouth, then into the brain. Could be an ice pick, although I’ve never seen one quite long enough to do the job this one did. Some kind of sharp, heavy duty spike, maybe.”
    Jesse