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"There
was something in the food, wasn't there?" Jessie Arnold asked.
Sergeant
Alex Jensen didn't answer immediately, but stood looking down at her,
considering. She was asking a lot of questions, but so, he supposed,
were most of them at this point. She was asking straight important
questions anticipating the same kind of answers and he had a hunch she
could probably handle them.
Most
people were wary of the law. The automatically hedged, or told you only
what they thought you wanted to know. A basic fear or resentment of
authority made them pseudo respectful. You wondered what they really
thought and said about you behind your back. Sometimes you knew because
they said it to your face.
This
woman stood her ground, said what she thought and asked what she wanted
to know. She was treating him as an equal, not awed by his authority,
but not disrespectful either. It made him want to answer her candidly.
The impulse was tempting, but it conflicted with his training.
"Wasn't
there?" she asked again.
Throwing
his head back and taking a deep breath, he reached into his pocket for
his pipe. She watched him fill and light it, waiting.
"I
don't know," he said finally, puffing smoke. "It will have to
go to the lab for tests."
An
amused expression took the edge from her next comment. "That's some
smoke-screen you've got."
He
shrugged and smiled, admitting it.
"But
you know there was something, and there was something wrong with George
too, wasn't there?"
"Why
do you think so?"
"Oh,
questions with questions." A bit of
exasperation showed now. "Because it makes sense. I'm not a
Trooper, but I'm not stupid. And neither are the others. I guess what
I'm thinking is there will probably be someone else, won't there? If
this race goes on, there could be several someone elses. Somebody
is killing mushers. What I want to know is what we're going to do about
it. It scares the hell out of me. I've never been around anything like
this and I don't like it. But we have a race to run. There's a lot at
stake: money, time, reputations. But none of its worth lives. What are
we going to do?"
We.
She kept saying "we" as if she were a part of finding out who
was responsible. And maybe she was, maybe they all were.
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