Fire and Ice (Liam Campbell Mysteries)
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Alaska State Trooper Liam Campbell was a young go-getter with everything going his way--a rich wife, a loving son, and a career ready to take off. But then it all fell to pieces. A drunk driver took his family, a tragic miscalculation took his career, and the bottle was about to take everything else...until Liam found himself on a plane to his new posting--a small native town far from the big city comforts of Anchorage. And fate isn't finished with him yet. No sooner does he set foot off the plane than he is confronted with a suspiciously dead body, an office going to hell in a handbasket, and the accusing glare of the only woman he'd ever truly loved...and lost. Featuring richly drawn-out characters and a spellbindingly rugged location, Fire And Ice is Dana Stabenow's most thoroughly enjoyable work to date, and is the first installment of a terrific new mystery series!
radios, which to Liam seemed a bit redundant. He put everything into the garbage bag and tied the neck into a firm overhand knot, then set it to one side on the tarmac. He stuck his head back inside the airplane to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He reexamined the control panel. To his deliberately uneducated eye, it sported the usual array of dials, knobs, bells, and whistles. He pointed. “What’s that?” Next to him he felt Wy start, and smiled grimly to himself. Good. She should know by
hands at his fly and reached for her zipper, opening it and stripping her of jeans, underwear, shoes, and socks in one sweep. The smell of her was so strong and so tantalizing that he would have buried his face in it if she hadn’t pulled him up by his hair. He reached for her braid and freed it, burying his face in the resulting curls with an inarticulate murmur. He had never forgotten her smell, intrinsic to her, rich, spicy, infinitely arousing. Her legs encircled him again and she wrapped a
look. “How much herring did you help catch last year?” “It doesn’t matter,” she flared. “I can’t think of a pilot in the world who would do this to another pilot. Besides, if they were after me, why didn’t they go after my 180, too, just to be on the safe side.” She indicated the blue and white plane sitting next to the Cub, wings intact. “Maybe because I got here before they could,” he said, and added, “Doesn’t have to be only the wings they went after. I’d have your mechanic check it out,
tender—Liam caught distant glimpses of three larger boats hanging around the perimeter of the action, but they weren’t about to run into him so he ignored them. “Watch it, that green plane—son of a bitch!” The green plane’s pilot misjudged his altitude and the 172’s speed and his gear glanced off the left wing of the 172 as it was coming up from behind. The 172’s wing dipped sharply water-ward, started to spin, and recovered, pulling up and banking right, out of the circle. Something wet
I have to make.” “Where?” “One’s the harbor, the other’s the hospital. See you later.” He left her staring after him as he went out the door. Outside, the raven croaked at him. He ignored it, heading for the Blazer when he caught sight of a white Ford station wagon. He walked over to look inside, but it was empty. He looked around the parking lot and didn’t see anyone, other than a couple steaming up the windows of a bright green Toyota Tercel. And he would surely have noticed her if she had