Nerd Gone Wild Read online

  So far the concept seemed to entail barreling through the snow, giving no thought to what creatures might be over the next hill or hiding among the trees. Ally saw no point in trying to spot anything. Any thicket or grove of evergreens they passed was only a blur of trunks, branches, and snow.

  Finally Tanya slowed the pace a little. She even seemed to be looking for something. That was encouraging. After all the time she’d spent out in the wilderness searching for animals, she must have a sixth sense about where to find them. Maybe Ally wasn’t giving her enough credit.

  “That looks like a good spot!” Tanya called over her shoulder.

  Ally wasn’t sure what it might be a good spot for. A few windswept evergreens clung to the edge of what looked like a sharp drop-off. But Tanya must know what she was doing. She hadn’t taken all those amazing pictures by accident.

  Tanya stopped the snowmobile about twenty yards from the place where the snow seemed to fall away. “We’ll see how this works.”

  Ally climbed off, glad for the sudden silence. Once the roar of the snowmobile was gone, she could listen for any creatures who might be nearby. But she heard nothing except the wind, saw nothing but the tracks of their snowmobile stretching out in the distance. The wind had really picked up in the last hour. Strong gusts hurled loose snow around, and soon those tracks would be obliterated.

  Turning back to the trees, Ally thought she saw movement in one of the branches. Maybe the wind. No! She looked closer and spotted a ptarmigan sitting there, white feathers fluffed out against the cold. Feathers even covered the feet of these hardy birds.

  And there was another one, its feathers so white that it was well camouflaged by the snow-covered branches. She was good at spotting things, always had been. It seemed like a valuable skill for this career.

  Pleased with herself, she turned back toward the snowmobile, where Tanya was pulling her camera bag from one of the leather pouches strapped to the back. “Ptarmigan,” she said. “In the trees.”

  “Good.” Tanya gestured toward the other saddlebag. “Get your camera.”

  “Right.” Excitement made her forget her misgivings about Tanya. Now she’d have a chance to take pictures under the watchful eye of a pro, exactly as she’d longed to do. She unbuckled the leather pouch and took out her backpack. “Do you use a digital camera at all?”

  “Sometimes.” Tanya hooked her camera bag over her shoulder and started toward the trees, walking cautiously through the crunchy snow. “When it feels right.”

  Someday Ally would have that kind of instinct, knowing which camera suited the occasion. For now, she had only one, but she would learn. She pulled off her gloves and stuck them in her pocket. Then she grabbed her camera from her backpack and shoved the pack back into the saddlebag.

  “I was thinking,” she said as she followed Tanya, “that with the right angle, I could shoot them on the branch, with the blue sky as a backdrop. I’m sure you have hundreds of ptarmigan shots, but I’d love to try and get this.”

  “Be my guest.” Tanya paused and set her camera bag in the snow. “I’ll let you go ahead. You can have first shot.”

  Ally’s pulse quickened. “I’m so nervous, taking pictures in front of the great Tanya Mandell. Promise not to laugh if I do something stupid.”

  “Trust me, I won’t laugh.”

  “Thanks.” Ally smiled at her. “I guess everyone’s a beginner once.”

  “Some people never get beyond that stage.”

  “But I’m going to.” Ally was filled with new determination now that she was actually on an official shoot with someone who knew what to do. “How close do I try to get?”

  “As close as you can.”

  “Without stepping too near the edge or setting off an avalanche,” Ally said, laughing as she kept her eye on the two birds in the tree. “That would end my fledgling career in no time, wouldn’t it?”

  “It sure would.”

  “Well, don’t worry. I’ll be careful.” She crept up very close, close enough that she could see the birds looking down at her with their jet-black eyes. “You’re lucky I have a camera and not a gun, little guys, or you’d be somebody’s dinner tonight.”

  She had to kneel in the snow to get the angle she wanted. There, that was good. She squeezed off a shot and the birds didn’t move. Maybe the nearly perfect camouflage made them feel safe, but she’d eliminated that protective coloring with her angle. They stood out in stark relief against the blue sky.

  As she was about to take another shot she heard Tanya’s boots crunching on the snow. “Change your mind?” she said, keeping her voice down so she wouldn’t startle the birds.

  “No, this was always my plan.”

  “Your plan?” Ally clicked the shutter. “I don’t understand.” She turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder. What she saw made no sense to her. And then it did, and her veins turned to ice.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Mitch stared at Pete’s message on the screen. Finally tracked down news on Tanya Mandell. She’s on safari in Africa. Home today, late.

  With a pungent swear word, Mitch yanked open his dresser drawer. Moments later he was outside, headed for the Top Hat. When he’d charged downstairs, Betsy had been nowhere around, so he’d used her phone to call Rudy and tell him to show up at the Top Hat with the other snowmobile. He’d also activated the little transmitter in Ally’s backpack.

  His nerd disguise was history because he was going after her, but first Kurt would by God tell him who the hell was out there with her. That would determine whether Mitch would need the gun strapped to his ankle. He prayed he wouldn’t, but he had a bad feeling he might.

  Kurt was starting on his second beer. He’d raised the glass to his lips, so both beer and the glass went flying when Mitch spun him around, slammed him against the edge of the bar, and squeezed his windpipe with his hand. “Who’s with Ally?”

  Kurt’s eyes bulged. “T-Tanya!” he choked out.

  “Wrong answer.” He shoved the flat of his hand harder against Kurt’s windpipe. “Who is it?”

  Betsy and Clyde came out of the kitchen, both wide-eyed.

  “Mitch!” Betsy cried. “What on earth is going on? And where are your glasses?”

  “That woman with Ally isn’t Tanya Mandell,” Mitch said. “And Kurt’s about to tell me who she is. Right, Kurt?”

  “Damn straight he is,” said Clyde. He reached under the bar, pulled out a.45 Magnum, and stock the barrel against the back of Kurt’s skull. “This is not a toy, and it’s loaded.”

  “Clyde!” Betsy said. “I didn’t know you had a gun! That’s so sexy!”

  “Her n-name’s Vivian Altman,” Kurt said. “She’s m-my girlfriend.”

  “I knew it couldn’t be Tanya Mandell,” Betsy said. “That just didn’t seem right.”

  “Your girlfriend.” That still didn’t tell Mitch what he wanted to know. “And what’s she up to, going out there with Ally today, since she’s not a world-famous photographer?”

  Rudy charged into the Top Hat, his big hands flexing. “Let me at him. Let me at that lying son of a moose!”

  “That’s okay, Rudy.” Betsy moved to intercept him. “I think Mitch and Clyde are handling it.”

  “We may need Rudy to rearrange his body parts if he doesn’t answer the question,” Mitch said.

  “Glad to!” Rudy gently set Betsy aside and came to tower over Kurt. “Where do you want me to start? Let’s start with his privates.”

  Kurt’s wild gaze darted from Mitch to Rudy. “I—I don’t know the answer! I wanted to stick with Plan A! But now she’s getting all crazy, and talking about Plan B! How was I to know she had a gun?”

  Mitch’s stress level spiked about a thousand percent. He released his hold on Kurt. “Rudy, let’s go. Betsy, call the cops. Clyde, hang on to this pile of crap until we come back.”

  “He won’t be going anywhere,” Clyde said. “But I think you’d better take my gun, Mitch.”

  “Got one,”
Mitch said. “But thanks.”

  “You have a gun, too?” Betsy seemed beside herself with excitement.

  “I don’t got one!” Rudy came over to the bar. “I’ll take it. But bash him over the head with it first, so he won’t cause any trouble.”

  “What’s up?” Dave came into the bar. “Damn, Clyde, what are you doing with that gun? I never knew you had a gun.”

  “Kept it for emergencies, under a stack of towels. Now I’m giving it to Rudy. You got one I can borrow to keep this guy under control? Otherwise I gotta bash him, like Rudy said.”

  “Don’t hit me over the head,” Kurt said. “Anybody got a whip? A whip would be good.”

  “No whip,” Dave said, “but I got a chain saw. Be right back.”

  Mitch couldn’t wait around for this nonsense. “No, Dave, forget it!” he shouted after him. “We’ll just go with mine!”

  But Dave was gone, tearing out of the Top Hat to get his weapon.

  Mitch headed for the door. “Come on, Rudy. Forget the gun. One’s fine.”

  “Okay, if you say so.” Rudy followed him. “But I really wanted to have a gun, too.”

  They had their helmets on and were mounting up when Dave came running, carrying the chain saw.

  “Man, that looks dangerous, running with a chain saw,” Rudy said. “He could fall and damage somethin’ important.”

  “I’ve got it!” Dave yelled. “Wait! I’ll get you that gun, Rudy!”

  “Yeah, let’s wait,” Rudy said, his voice eager. “It’s only a couple of seconds.”

  Rudy had control of the snowmobile, so Mitch gave in. He hoped a couple of seconds wouldn’t make a critical difference. He refused to think about the possibility that they might already be too late.

  “So where are your glasses, Mitch?” Rudy asked.

  “I wear contacts. Listen, if Dave doesn’t come right back, can we—”

  “He’ll be right back. And you got a gun. I thought you were a nerd, but you’re not acting like a nerd.”

  “I’m a private investigator.”

  “Whew, that’s a relief! I was afraid I would have to handle this myself.”

  Dave tore through the door again, Clyde’s gun in his hand. “Betsy’s called for backup.”

  “The cops?” Mitch asked.

  “Yeah, she’s called them, too, but Ernie’s coming with his sled dogs and his shotgun. I’ll ride with him.”

  Mitch wasn’t about to hang around until the Porcupine Posse was formed. “Sorry, we can’t wait.”

  “No, no, don’t wait! We’ll catch up. Go!”

  Rudy put the snowmobile in gear. “Dave, do you even know what’s going on?”

  “Nope.” Dave flashed his brilliant smile. “Don’t care. I’m in.”

  “That’s what I thought. See ya.” Rudy took off down the street. “The thing is, Porcupinians need somethin’ to do!” he yelled over the roar of the motor, as if Mitch had asked a question.

  Mitch wasn’t interested in asking any questions at the moment. All he wanted was to find Ally. To think he’d stood by and let her go out there. He should have come up with an excuse to keep her from leaving. Maybe he should have disabled the snowmobiles somehow. If anything happened…

  He pulled his hand-held tracking device out of his coat pocket and switched it on. He’d bought it on a hunch right before he’d left L.A and had never tested it. He hoped to hell the thing worked the way it was supposed to.

  Staring at the small screen, he located the little blip that was Ally. Or rather, the little blip that was the microchip in her backpack. Now if Ally was close to that blip, and safe, all would be right with his world.

  Rudy reached the end of town and stopped, letting the engine idle. “Hey, Mitch! What do we do now? The wind’s blown the tracks away. I don’t know which way they went.”

  “Don’t worry.” Mitch concentrated on that little blip. Dear God, she had to be okay. “I have something here that will tell us. Go northeast.”

  Rudy hesitated. “What you got, some kinda radar?”

  “Something like that. Keep your eye out for tracks, anyway. But if the tracks are gone, I can still aim us in the right direction.”

  “I have to say, Mitch, you are nothing like I thought you were. You know about guns, and electronic stuff, even sex! You rock, man!” And Rudy tramped on the gas.

  * * *

  Ally had expected that sometime during her stay in Alaska, she might come face-to-face with an angry grizzly. She’d fully expected to deal with a testy bull moose at one time or another, and she knew people had been trampled if they weren’t careful. She’d figured on dangerous weather conditions, ice that gave way under her feet, and the possibility of getting lost in an unforgiving wilderness.

  She’d never counted on looking down the barrel of a gun. Fear made her heart race. Not surprising. Nobody had ever tried to kill her before. “You’re not Tanya Man-dell.”

  “Correct!” The woman, whoever she was, smiled as if Ally had just won the jackpot on Jeopardy.

  “I can’t believe that didn’t occur to me.” Ally straggled to breathe. In, out; in, out. Her brain needed oxygen to think her way out of this fix. And she would get out of it. She’d come to Alaska to start living, not to die. A gun pointed in her face was a serious obstacle to her plans.

  “I’ll tell you why it didn’t occur to you,” The woman looked happier than she had since she’d arrived in Porcupine. “Because you wanted so much to believe that I was Tanya. You wanted to think your dear uncle Kurt had given you this wonderful gift of a fabulous mentor.”

  She was right about that. Even now, Ally clung to the hope that Uncle Kurt hadn’t known this woman was an imposter. If only Mitch had been a trained bodyguard instead of a nerd, he might have found out about this before it was too late. Grammy might have miscalculated by hiring Mitch.

  “It was my idea, pretending to be the photographer you idolized. Brilliant, if I do say so.”

  Even when Ally had thought this woman was Tanya, she’d realized she was a mental case. Now it became obvious. The woman was crackers. Ally didn’t know all the psychobabble to describe it, but one thing she did understand with complete clarity. For this chick, pulling the trigger would be no problemo.

  “What’s your real name?” Ally asked. In order to buy some time until she figured out a way to get out of this gun situation, she needed a name.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you. It’s Vivian.”

  “Well, Vivian, how would you like to spend the rest of your life on the beach in the Caribbean, all expenses paid? I could arrange for that.” Ally took stock of her options. Her only immediate weapon, other than her hands and feet, was her camera.

  “That’s funny.” Vivian giggled, which sounded very strange coming from a woman holding a gun. “You’re trying to buy me off.”

  “Think about it. If you kill me, you’ll get caught. But if we strike a bargain, you’ll be set for life, without having to watch your back all the time.” Ally wondered if she could somehow make use of the trees behind her, or even the birds in them, to create a distraction so she could make a grab for the gun.

  “I won’t get caught. After I kill you, I’ll shove you over the edge. The snow’s deep down there. That should be enough, but this is avalanche season. I ought to be able to start a little one, just enough to cover you really good.”

  Pretty scary stuff, having her own death described. Ally thought she’d take a pass on going out that way. Dying in her rocker at the age of ninety-eight sounded a whole lot better. “But you’ll be the last one to see me alive. You’ll be a prime suspect.”

  “Ah, but I’ll disappear, too. Neither of us will come back. I’ll use the snowmobile to get within hiking distance of the main road and catch a ride out of here. I’ll be on a plane out of the country before we’re reported missing.”

  Ally thought she’d have a better position back by the trees, even though that was closer to the drop-off. “I don’t get it. How c
an you profit from killing me if you disappear?” She edged back a step.

  “Go ahead and try to get away. You’re backing toward the cliff and you’ll go over it eventually, anyway.”

  “I’m just naturally accommodating.” Ally took another step back. “So you didn’t answer my question. What’s in this for you?”

  “A fortune. Kurt will be the last living Jarrett, and he’ll get it all. What’s Kurt’s will be mine. Blackmail’s such a useful tool, don’t you think?” Vivian giggled again.

  “So he knows.” The last shred of hope died. She had no family. The grief when Grammy died had been terrible, but this was worse. She’d believed in Uncle Kurt, believed he cared about her. And she was nothing to him except a way to get rich.

  “Oh, he’s in this up to his eyeballs. He’ll pay to keep me quiet. He’ll pay, and pay, and pay. Your Caribbean retirement plan is peanuts compared to what I’ll get. I like peanuts, but I prefer caviar.”

  As Ally thought about the faith she’d put in Uncle Kurt, how she’d dreamed of a life full of adventure with him as a big part of it, as the father she’d never had, she felt the pain of losing that dream. The pain was quickly followed by a white-hot anger. How dare he? How dare he take her dream and smash it into a million jagged pieces?

  Without thinking, she yelled in rage and brought her camera up sharply, knocking the gun away from her face. It fired over her shoulder, the noise a loud, deafening roar in her ears as she tackled Vivian, landing on top of her in the snow. They rolled over and over as she tried to grab the gun, tried to knock it away.

  But Vivian held on. With one wild swing of the gun, she managed to whack Ally in the head. Dazed, she lost focus for a second, and that was all it took for Vivian to straddle her and point the gun in her face again.

  Panting, Vivian stared down at her, her blue eyes filled with rage. “You are not going to stop me.”

  Ally struggled to get her breath. She figured the only reason Vivian hadn’t pulled the trigger was her love of power. That’s what the sexual aggression had been all about, and now she wanted to flaunt her power over Ally for as long as possible. Once she killed her prey, the fun would be over.