Tanner blinked. "She isn't going to be so happy with that. No indoor plumbing. In the middle of winter."

"Well, she'll have to live with it," Joe replied. "She's not setting foot in the lodge."

Tanner glanced over at Perrie, then back at Joe. "She doesn't look like the type to live with anything she doesn't like."

"I know," Joe grumbled. "But I'll deal with that problem later."

Perrie huddled down in the copilot's seat, wrapping her arms around herself and stamping her feet. Her breath clouded in front of her and her nose was so cold she was sure it would break off if she rubbed it. "Don't you have any heat in this plane?"

Brennan glanced at her absently, as if surprised that he had a passenger at all. He hadn't said a word since they'd taken off an hour before and seemed quite comfortable with the silence. He closed his hand into a fist and rapped firmly on a spot near the center of the control console. A fan began to whir and, slowly, the cockpit of the Otter warmed to a temperature somewhere above freezing.

"I sure hope the rest of your plane works better than the heater," she muttered.

He grunted in reply, his expression hidden behind his sunglasses and shadowed by the brim of his cap. He seemed intent on the view through the plane's windshield, so Perrie took the opportunity to study him.

She considered herself an excellent judge of character, possessed of the ability to immediately discern a person's true nature and hidden agendas with a simple glance. It had come in handy in her work, allowing her to cut through the bull and get right to the heart of the matter. But Joe Brennan defied an immediate impression.