Chuck Logan - Homefront

Broker was looking at womens long underwear in the J. P. Asch

The new kid was a snotty showoff, and it was really starting to bug

When Broker leaned down, the material of his tan work jacket tight

The drivers-side door on the Ford tore open too fast, springing on

After Keith Nygard finished up his lecture, Jimmy got back in his

Okay, Cassie; calm down, Gator Bodine said as he patiently listened

They came through the door and immediately smelled the cigarette

Gator closed the door to his shop and stood for a few moments

Ten minutes into the trail Broker caught a blur of movement up

Gator put a few hundred yards of twisting trail between him and the

After stowing the skis in the garage, Broker told Kit to shovel off

When he arrived back at his truck, Gator stowed his skis in the back

Nina, holding it together, coached Kit through supper. When Broker

Gator went and got what he needed and then found himself making

Broker started in the garage. No tiny paw prints led from the garage

Four-thirty in the morning. Broker and Kit were sound asleep, Kit

Broker awoke, alert and rested after seven hours on the couch. He

At 11:00 A.M. Gator paced on the front porch in his Carhartt parka

Broker drove back home , parked the truck, climbed up into the bed

Gator was jangled on too much morning coffee, and now rubber-kneed

When Broker picked Kit up at school, their conversation consisted of

The first time Broker laid eyes on Harry Griffin was thirty-two

Smell it? Nygard asked.

Harry Griffin drove toward his house nearer to town, on the south

The alarm went off, and Sheryl Mott got up in her efficiency apartment

Nina lay in bed watching the stucco ceiling slowly emerge from

Harry Griffin woke up feeling the warm impression Susan had left in

Broker dropped Kit off at school , drove back through town, and

It was game time.

Broker sat in his truck in front of the school, showing no expression

Griffin wheeled into the parking lot of Skeets Bar and parked his

Sheryl spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon smoking

After supper, Kit sat at the desk on the insulated office porch, practicing

Harry Griffin passed a fitful night that was not altogether unpleasant.

J. T. Merryweather woke up before the alarm on Saturday morning

An hour after he returned from his face-off with Gator Bodine, Griffin

Nina and Kit returned to Griffins house with their new hairdos and

Driving back from the pay phone at Perrys, bouncing in his seat.

Griffin studied the squat gray building just fifty yards away, checked

Saturday night. Nina wore a new green peasant blouse with flared

Because Gator generally didnt trust excitement, he compensated for

At 8:03 on a sunny but brisk cloudless Monday morning Shank

Monday morning was another first . Nina drove Kit to school. Not

Quarter to one, Gator pacing on the farmhouse porch, peering into

Sheryl Mott sat in the idling Nissan and watched Gator and Shank march

Five minutes into her run , Nina was having doubts about being out

Shank hunkered in the thick spruce maybe sixty yards from the garage

Well use the Jeep , Griffin needs the truck, Broker said, guiding

Kit Broker stood shaking at the edge of the woods, looking back

After Shank called , Sheryl put the car in gear and crept down the

Keith Nygard sat at his desk in the sheriff s office in the corner off

Broker braked the Jeep halfway up the drive in a four-wheel drift,

Sweat was dripping down Gators freshly shaved jaw. It was all coming

Police tape clamored yellow in the fifty-mile wind. An ambulance

Gator wheeled into his driveway , saw the Nissan sitting in plain view

Knowing the road, doing a hundred over the Barrens flat, Nygard

Whats Mom doing now? Kit asked.

DECEMBER 17, STILLWATER, MINNESOTA

Broker was looking at womens long underwear in the J. P. Asch Outfitters store in downtown Stillwater when he got the call.

Outside, at the curb, a seven-foot spruce was encased in plastic netting in the bed of his Toyota Tundra. Last night Nina and their daughter, Kit, had raided the local Target store for a cart full of lights to string on the house and the tree. The boxes of decorations had been dusted off, opened, and laid out in the living room. It was going to be the first real Christmas together in four years that didnt involve Nina or Nina and Kit flying in from Europe.

He was debating which color lightweight Capilene to buy; the Red Chili Heather or the Purple Sage Heather. Either color would complement Ninas ruddy freckled complexion, her green eyes and amber-red hair. She had been making steady progress with the rehabilitation on her shoulder, and he had purchased new cross-country ski gear for the family. Nina thought her shoulder might be good enough to lightly hit the trails up north by the middle of January. His eyes drifted out the window at the black iron girders of the old railroad lift bridge that spanned the St. Croix River. The top of the structure feathered off in the haze of an unseasonably warm drizzle.

Hopefully the snow would hold up north, he was thinking.

Then the phone rang. He flipped it open and hit answer.

Mr. Broker. This is Brenda from the office at Stonebridge Elementary. Your daughter has been waiting for someone to pick her up for over forty minutes

Huh? Im on my way. Be right there.

What the hell? Rain, shine, or snow, Nina walked Kit to school and then ran five miles every morning. Every afternoon she trekked the six blocks to the school and walked Kit back home. Hadnt missed a day since theyd enrolled her in September.

Broker jumped in his truck, fought his way through the congested downtown traffic, drove past the festive streetlights hung with wreaths and Christmas decorations, half heard the carols piped from the busy storefronts. He drove up the North Hill, and when he wheeled into the deserted parking circle in front of the one-story school building, Kit was waiting at the front door with a teachers aide.

Hey. Wheres Mom? she asked, as she hopped in the backseat of the extended cab. Tallish, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, and cougar-cub lean at eight years old, shed learned to be a stickler about punctuality. From her mother. She also had Ninas hair, freckles, and deep green eyes.

Lets go find out, Broker said as he drove home faster than usual. Hed purchased the house on North Third as an investment; a large white duplex on the bluff overlooking the river. His address of record remained the Brokers Beach Resort in Devils Rock, north of Grand Marais, on the Lake Superior shore. The needs of his reconstituted family had obliged him to migrate from the remote north woods. Nina insisted on dance lessons, piano, and most of all, access to a fifty-meter pool; her daughter would be a competitive swimmer.

Like her mom.

Broker pulled up the long driveway and parked his truck in back of a rusted Honda Civic. A square, powerfully built man with a graying ponytail and a Pistol Pete mustache squatted behind the car, replacing the license tabs. As Broker and Kit got out of the truck, Kit called to the guy, Dooley, you seen Mom?

Dooley stood up and shook his head. Kit jogged toward the back door. Following her, Broker yelled over his shoulder to Dooley, Could you take the tree outa the truck, strip the plastic sleeve, and lean it against the garage?