And back to the fiction.

[camwyn]

The Inspector stared at her silently; Louise felt just confident enough to add, “And you know the Spanish Lady doesn’t care how strong you are, or how tough, or- or any of that. She’ll kill you just the same. . .”

More silence, as Harper’s gaze shifted into the shadows. Eventually, he said, “I’ll send someone.”

“Do you have anyone you can spare, Inspector?” Louise asked softly. She knew she was pushing it; she also knew it was her only chance. “Half of Dawson is too sick to move. The other half knows it. Have you got anyone you can spare for something like this?”

His eyes shifted back to her – still narrow, still angry, but somehow more at her words than at Louise herself. “That’s what I wanted to volunteer for,” she said softly. “To go out and warn him myself. That’s all – I swear.”

“I don’t think you understand how dangerous it is out there right now,” said the Inspector slowly, reluctantly.

“If you mean the wildlife, Inspector, I have my father’s gun and I can use it.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh, the storm?” He nodded. “Alfred Patons told me about that.”

The older man blinked. “You met my nephew?”

Louise almost bit her tongue in surprise, but nodded. “Yes, Inspector. On the way here. He- he said you were worried about how bad the storm was going to be.” Harper grunted noncommittally. “Look- I’m sorry. I should have come to you right away and asked, but I really didn’t think you’d even listen.”

“You were right,” said Harper tersely, rubbing at the edge of the mask with the first trace of weariness she’d seen in him. “I’m still inclined to send you back to your father. With the weather as bad as it looks like it’ll get, you’ll be in more danger than he will.”

She wanted to wipe her palms dry so badly. . . “Inspector,” she began, “if it even starts to look like the storm’s arrived and I haven’t found him yet. . . if that happens, I’ll turn my dogs around and head back to Dawson just as fast as I possibly can. I promise.”

He closed his eyes, rubbing at his face again. At last he said, “Let me see your dogs.”

Outside, it was a hair colder than Louise remembered. Inspector Harper didn’t seem to notice. He stooped beside her sled, examining the dogs and their harness with a critical eye. “They look like good animals,” he conceded reluctantly. “Got much experience driving them?”

“Around town, mostly, but I’ve been out of the city a few times. Bear’s smart enough to keep me on the trail and out of trouble.” She didn’t like reminding him of the possibility of danger, but as Sergeant Preston’s superior officer, he stood a good chance of valuing the dog’s experience over her own. Moose, who had lain down in front of the sled almost as soon as she’d stopped, looked up and wagged his tail at the man.

“Show me the gun.”

Obediently, Louise withdrew her father’s rifle from its coverings. “Lee-Enfield .303, Inspector,” she recited, silently blessing her father for extolling the thing’s virtues to any hunter who would listen. “Military issue- my father bought it off a cashiered serviceman, years ago. It’s a little tricky to load, but it’s got a ten round magazine, so I shouldn’t have to worry about running out of ammunition…”

He glanced sidelong at her. “Expecting to run into a wolf pack, Miss Delaney?” With a shake of the head he straightened up. “I shouldn’t do this, but I don’t seem to have a choice. Head out of town along the road that leads past the Green Parrot Café. . .”

Louise beamed, grateful for the mask that concealed most of her excitement, and repeated Inspector Harper’s directions to herself. The hardest part was over. Now all that remained was to actually do it.