Truax‘s alarm at the prospect of Kate Shugak, Ace Detective, wandering around his mine without a keeper warred with his desire to assure Kate Shugak, chair of the board of directors of the Niniltna Native Association, that Global Harvest Resources Inc. had absolutely nothing to hide at the Suulutaq Mine. It took him a moment to reconcile these two viewpoints, during which Kate and Mutt had slipped out the door.

Six

Lyda was back at her desk. Vern asked if you would show me around the mine, Ms. Blue, Kate said. I hope you don‘t mind.

Mendacity was just one more service Kate offered. And she wanted to create an opportunity to speak with Lyda Blue alone.

Mutt‘s head popped over the top of the desk. She and Lyda examined each other again. Wolf? Lyda said.

Half, Kate said.

Neither was unconscious of conversations dying natural deaths all around the large room as people took in the couple standing in front of reception. Everyone thought Mutt outweighed Kate, and everyone was right. Everyone worried over the possibility that Kate didn‘t control Mutt, and everyone was wrong. Mostly. Everyone was also acquiring a line of sight to the nearest window or door in the event of any emergency of a lupine kind.

Lyda nodded, unsurprised and unalarmed. If she really was from Bering, she wouldn‘t be either. Vern is my boss, Ms. Shugak. What he says goes. What would you like to see first?

Are Dewayne Gammons‘s belongings still here at the mine?

Lyda Blue hesitated for a moment too long, and knew it. Yes, she said. I—we didn‘t know where he‘d gone, and he didn‘t fill in the next-of-kin blank on his employee form so we didn‘t have anyone to send them to. I didn‘t want to just throw them out.

May I see them, please?

Lyda Blue led her to one of the modular bunkhouses, the equivalent of a wide, single-story trailer with rooms on both sides, a communal bathroom at one end, and a TV lounge at the other. Lyda opened the door to a room next to the lounge, which was cleared of furniture to do duty for storage. It was about three-quarters full of haphazardly stacked cleaning supplies. Tucked next to a crooked tower of fortyeight-roll packages of toilet paper was a large six-shelf unit made of heavy, chromeplated steel, bolted together by an inexpert hand that had left all the shelves enough out of true to be noticeable but not enough to have everything on them on the floor unless the next earthquake was a big one. The shelves were jammed with what looked like personal gear, duffels, stuff sacks, daypacks, a couple of suitcases. This is all Gammons‘s stuff? Kate said.

No. Only this. Lyda pulled down a canvas duffel and an Eddie Bauer daypack without checking the tags.

This all? A nod. Kate looked back at the shelves. Who does the rest of it belong to?

Wayne Gammons isn‘t the only employee to walk off the job at Suulutaq, Ms. Shugak, Lyda said.