A deeper sleep by Dana Stabenow Page B
Authors: Dana Stabenow
Tags: Fiction, General, detective, thriller, Suspense, adventure, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery, Mystery Fiction, Political, Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, Fiction - Mystery, Mystery And Suspense Fiction, alaska, Crime thriller, Shugak; Kate (Fictitious character), Women private investigators - Alaska, Suspense & Thriller, 19th century fiction, Indians of North America - Alaska
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damage to everyone involved, especially him.
And then he would look down at Kate, her face flushed and glowing, a smile curling the corners of her lips, her legs still tight around his waist, and feel complete, whole, all his empty spaces filled up.
Like he was home.
When he realized this, he waited for the panic to set in. Hell, he would have welcomed it.
It just wasn't there.
One evening he was helping Johnny with his algebra. "Man, I hate this stuff," Johnny said, grumbling. "It was a lot easier when X was just a letter in the alphabet." He looked up from where he was torturing a page of his textbook. "You're really good at it, though. How come?"
"I don't know. Probably because I had a really good teacher." They were seated at the dining room table. Kate was curled up on the sofa, her nose in a book. Typical. It would be easier to get over her if she were a little more labor intensive. Jim shifted in his chair, ostensibly to stretch but really to get a look at the title. Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen. Bleah.
He looked back at Johnny. "I never went as far with it as I wanted to. Someday I'm going to go back to school and take bone-head math right on up to trig and calc."
"Why the he—?" Johnny looked over his shoulder at Kate, who he knew from personal experience was never so oblivious to her surroundings as one might like. "Why would you want to do that?"
"I always wanted to take astronomy. You need calc to take astronomy."
"Oh. You gonna buy a telescope?"
"That's my plan."
Johnny considered, and then jerked his head toward the front windows. "We got a deck."
"Yeah," Jim said, "I noticed."
"All I'm saying is it'd be a good place to put a telescope."
"Yeah," Jim said. "About that X—"
He felt reasonably confident that the implication of that conversation was going to jerk him out of a sound sleep at three a.m., sweating bullets. Instead he was woken at three a.m. in the middle of being taken thorough advantage of by Kate.
Well. It wasn't like he could resist. Male anatomy being what it was.
The next morning he woke up before she did and looked over to see that she was still asleep. It didn't happen often. He lay very still.
She was curled on her right side facing him, close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek, although he couldn't hear it. She was the quietest sleeper he'd ever shared a bed with, to the point that sometimes he'd nudge her to get a grunt or a moan, just to prove that she was still alive. With her eyes closed you could see the Aleut in her even more than when they were open, the slight upward tilt of the eyelids, the high, flat cheekbones, the wide mouth, the strong, stubborn chin. Her skin was a warm olive tint, her hair black and straight and very short. It had fallen to her waist at one time, usually bound back in a thick braid, and then for reasons she had never explained to anyone, she had cut it all off. He'd wondered if it was in reaction to Jack Morgan's death, some kind of cultural custom to express grief, but of course he had never asked.
Jim knew women, knew a lot of them and knew them well. Jack Morgan had known just one woman, and known her very well indeed. This woman, this five-foot, 120-pound package of strength and courage and intelligence and humor. Her grandmother had for many years led Kate's small band of transplanted Aleuts and consanguinated Athabascans and adopted Eyaks and conscripted Tlingits, and it had been obvious what Emaa had wanted when she died. She had wanted Kate to step into her shoes.
Thus far, Kate hadn't. She was too blunt for the diplomacy required to shepherd a tribe between the Scylla of government funding and the Charybdis of intertribal warfare, and she had too little patience with human foible to be able to turn a blind eye. Both qualities had made her an excellent if intimidating investigator for the Anchorage district attorney, and they made
And then he would look down at Kate, her face flushed and glowing, a smile curling the corners of her lips, her legs still tight around his waist, and feel complete, whole, all his empty spaces filled up.
Like he was home.
When he realized this, he waited for the panic to set in. Hell, he would have welcomed it.
It just wasn't there.
One evening he was helping Johnny with his algebra. "Man, I hate this stuff," Johnny said, grumbling. "It was a lot easier when X was just a letter in the alphabet." He looked up from where he was torturing a page of his textbook. "You're really good at it, though. How come?"
"I don't know. Probably because I had a really good teacher." They were seated at the dining room table. Kate was curled up on the sofa, her nose in a book. Typical. It would be easier to get over her if she were a little more labor intensive. Jim shifted in his chair, ostensibly to stretch but really to get a look at the title. Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen. Bleah.
He looked back at Johnny. "I never went as far with it as I wanted to. Someday I'm going to go back to school and take bone-head math right on up to trig and calc."
"Why the he—?" Johnny looked over his shoulder at Kate, who he knew from personal experience was never so oblivious to her surroundings as one might like. "Why would you want to do that?"
"I always wanted to take astronomy. You need calc to take astronomy."
"Oh. You gonna buy a telescope?"
"That's my plan."
Johnny considered, and then jerked his head toward the front windows. "We got a deck."
"Yeah," Jim said, "I noticed."
"All I'm saying is it'd be a good place to put a telescope."
"Yeah," Jim said. "About that X—"
He felt reasonably confident that the implication of that conversation was going to jerk him out of a sound sleep at three a.m., sweating bullets. Instead he was woken at three a.m. in the middle of being taken thorough advantage of by Kate.
Well. It wasn't like he could resist. Male anatomy being what it was.
The next morning he woke up before she did and looked over to see that she was still asleep. It didn't happen often. He lay very still.
She was curled on her right side facing him, close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek, although he couldn't hear it. She was the quietest sleeper he'd ever shared a bed with, to the point that sometimes he'd nudge her to get a grunt or a moan, just to prove that she was still alive. With her eyes closed you could see the Aleut in her even more than when they were open, the slight upward tilt of the eyelids, the high, flat cheekbones, the wide mouth, the strong, stubborn chin. Her skin was a warm olive tint, her hair black and straight and very short. It had fallen to her waist at one time, usually bound back in a thick braid, and then for reasons she had never explained to anyone, she had cut it all off. He'd wondered if it was in reaction to Jack Morgan's death, some kind of cultural custom to express grief, but of course he had never asked.
Jim knew women, knew a lot of them and knew them well. Jack Morgan had known just one woman, and known her very well indeed. This woman, this five-foot, 120-pound package of strength and courage and intelligence and humor. Her grandmother had for many years led Kate's small band of transplanted Aleuts and consanguinated Athabascans and adopted Eyaks and conscripted Tlingits, and it had been obvious what Emaa had wanted when she died. She had wanted Kate to step into her shoes.
Thus far, Kate hadn't. She was too blunt for the diplomacy required to shepherd a tribe between the Scylla of government funding and the Charybdis of intertribal warfare, and she had too little patience with human foible to be able to turn a blind eye. Both qualities had made her an excellent if intimidating investigator for the Anchorage district attorney, and they made
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