Perfect Assassin by Wendy Rosnau

much gone, scrap metal and charred ash smoldering in the crisp morning air. It would be hard to say what had caused the accident, but there would be a thorough investigation. The plane wasn’t that old, but it had seen a lot of miles, with mostly thrift maintenance. Any number of things could have caused the aircraft to go down.
    “His distress call was generic,” Billy said. “He was losing altitude. Nothing more.”
    The crew started to go to work, and Jacy limped over to his grandmother who sat cross-legged in front of a small fire with her eyes closed. He crouched down next to her and touched her shoulder. She blinked open her eyes and when she looked up at him, she smiled.
    “Good to see you, Grandson. Our little bird is safe?”
    “She’s at the cabin with Vic.” He studied Koko’s face, said, “So what’s going on? What haven’t you told me?”
    “Things aren’t clear yet. I’m still seeing pictures in my mind. But I’m sure it will all make sense soon enough.”
    “Yesterday you seemed anxious to return to the crash site.”
    “I did want to spend some time here, but sisttsi nan needed better care than I could give her, so I chose to start down the mountain. I didn’t want to leave Marty. His spirit was troubled.”
    “Marty?”
    “He was afraid at the end. I felt it. I have prayed for his spirit to take flight. For peace on his journey. He soars now with the eagles.”
    Jacy fastened his eyes on a backpack. “And that?”
    “It’s sisttsi nan ’s bag. I found it over there.” Koko pointed a distance away from the airplane rubble. “It must have been thrown from the plane. Her personal things and clothes.”
    Jacy stood and went to the pack. “Any ID?”
    “No.”
    Jacy unzipped the bag and rifled it. Koko was right, there was no identification.
    “I searched the area after I found the bag, but I think everything else has been lost in the fire.”
    “Billy’s crew will take over now. I’ve come to take you home if you’re ready.”
    “Yes, I’m ready. And you’re sure your city boy, Vic, is taking care of our little bird?”
    Jacy grinned. His grandmother didn’t think much of Vic Krandle, or his fancy equipment. The doctor turned sophisticated government physical therapist was smart, aggressive and not shy when it came to going head-to-head with Koko on modern medicine verses holistic alternatives.
    “Vic says she’s going to be fine, thanks to you.”
    Koko snorted. “At least he’s an honest man. Arrogant, but honest.”
    She stood and pulled her thin coat around her, then retied her pink wool scarf. “We go home now. Marty’s at peace. My work here is done.” When she walked past Jacy, she touched his face. “Come, issohko. Take me home.”

Chapter 5
    P risca had awakened early to sit by the window. She had walked carefully to the rocker on her sprained ankle, the bandage on the front of her leg reminding her that she was lucky to be alive. That she hadn’t lost a limb.
    Outside, snow was falling, the mountains in the distance were capped, and the secluded lake was a solid white body of ice. Montana reminded her of Austria, the rugged mountains making her homesick.
    She heard the door open, and she said, “Whose room is this? I think it could use some color.”
    She turned expecting to see Vic Krandle, but to her surprise it was Koko’s grandson who stood in the doorway.
    He stepped into the room and tossed one of her bags on the bed. She glanced at it, mentally drawing a picture of what was inside.
    “To answer your question, it’s my room. What color?”
    “Maybe some green, or blue.” She shrugged. “Maybe not. Maybe all it needs is a bigger window to let in more light, and show off the view. In the summer the lake must be beautiful.”
    “Are you staying until summer?”
    He was very quick-witted—and intimidating. She hadn’t had any experience with other cultures. This man was an Indian. Koko had said they were Blackfeet.
    This particular Indian had a