Women Sleuths

Beneath the Ashes:: An Alaska Mystery by Sue Henry

By Sue Henry

In a wide ranging land of ice and chilly, loss of life has come...by fire.In the lingering sit back of the early Alaskan spring, famed "musher" Jessie Arnold confronts the charred continues to be of a favourite neighborhood pub, destroyed via a suspicious blaze that claimed an blameless, unsuspecting lifestyles. This lull among racing seasons is intended to be a time of grueling education and conditioning for Jessie and her dogsled team-but as a substitute it has turn into a time of worry. as the burning has simply began, and its flames will scar and blister Jessie's international in methods she will slightly think. And within the wake of extra dying, her subsequent race could be one for survival -- as she struggles to figure out even if a determined pal is a terrified victim...or a killer.

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They were almost to the pub before Jessie could see the red glow of fire reflected from the trees around Oscar’s and the huge column of smoke that rose into the snowy dark. As they pulled into the parking lot behind the firefighters, she could see bright sparks being sucked aloft and thought it was a good thing that the surrounding forest and fields were too wet to burn. “Too late, dammit,” Hank swore, seeing that the building was more than half engulfed in flames that were spreading fast. They jumped from the cab into a confusion of people in motion and a tangle of vehicles hastily parked to leave room between for the fire equipment.

Sorry,” he apologized as he saw her eyes narrow involuntarily at the familiar name. “That’s okay, Phil. ” “Great. ” He grinned, tossed his western hat on the sofa, and took a chair at the round oak dining table. Mike Tatum pulled out another and sat, laying down a notebook and pen. Jessie crossed swiftly to close the door to the bedroom so their conversation wouldn’t disturb Anne, then brought the coffeepot and a plastic container of cookies to the table and sat down across from them. “We need to hear what you know about last night’s fire, Jessie,” Phil said, dunking a cookie in his coffee.

4 Q IN HER STOCKING FEET, JESSIE QUIETLY PACED THE WIDTH of her cabin, restless and unable to settle into the nap she had intended to take on the sofa. Seemingly exhausted by her travels and relieved to have made her request, Anne had eaten lunch, taken a quick shower, and fallen asleep almost before she could curl up under the colorful quilt on Jessie’s big brass bed. But before she slept, she had filled in some information about the ten years since they had seen each other. What she had revealed was incomplete and not pleasant—a one-sided litany of physical and emotional abuse that disturbed and discouraged Jessie as much as Anne seemed reluctant and troubled to be telling it.

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