Better to rest (17 page)

“Nope. Not that I remember. Well.

“What?

“She used to tell raunchy stories that embarrassed the hell out of Sharon and Lola.

“Raunchy stories?

“Yeah, I think she liked giving them the needle. Especially the younger ones. Hell, if half the stuff she said about her and Stan Sr. was true, she wasnt even bragging.

“What kind of stuff?

Bill grinned. “One time, when the kids were off on a basketball trip to Anchorage, Stan Sr. borrowed a pair of handcuffs off Martin Gleasona city cop here, before your timestripped Lydia butt-naked and kept her chained to their bed for twenty-four hours, during which he invited five guys over to play poker in the kitchen. He visited her between hands, with the other guys thinking he was using the john. She said after the second time all he had to do was walk into the room for her to come. Lola just about died.

“Jesus. Prince remembered Mrs. Lydia Tompkins, a short, plump, bright-eyed woman who had most definitely achieved elder status, and tried to reconcile that picture with the sexual dynamo Bill was describing.

“Yeah. I want to be Lydia when I grow up. Bill paused. “It must have about killed her when Stan Sr. died.

“So you never had any disagreements with her yourself?

“Oh, hell, yes. You cant be even once-a-month friends for over twenty years and not fight. Not if the friendship is real. I told her she was spoiling Karen and she was mad at me for, oh, about five minutes, I think it was. But Lydia could never stay mad at anyone for long.

Bill sighed. “I should be angry at who killed her. I should be breathing fire and smoke up one road and down another, as far as roads go in this town, until I sniff out the bastard and annihilate him. But all I can think of is that Ive lost a friend, and all I can feel is tired.

It was the closest Prince had ever heard Bill come to admitting to human weakness, and she didnt know quite what to say in response. She fell back on formula. “You cant think of anyone who would have wanted to hurt her?

Bill shook her head.

“Can you give me directions to Lolas house? I can track down everyone else.

“Okay. Bill drew Princes notebook to her and began to write.

Alta Peterson, owner and proprietor of the Bay View Inn, Newenhams only hotel, was long-limbed and lean in the best Scandinavian style of construction, and wore tiny little round glasses through which she was peering at a copy of
Girl with a Pearl Earring
. The book was propped in her lap. Her feet were propped on the check-in counter. She wore a lime-green sweater over a pair of polyester slacks the color of Welchs grape juice, and an orange chiffon scarf in an artistic knot at her throat.

Prince narrowed her eyes against the glare and cleared her throat.

“Diana. What can I do for you? Alta did not leap to her feet. This was Newenham. It was October. Jo and Gary Dunaway and Special Agent James G. Mason were the only three customers she had at present, and she wasnt expecting Diana to bring her any more.

“You hear about Lydia Tompkins?

“Yes.

“Im talking to everyone who knew her.

“Uh-huh.

“Bill Billington tells me you were a member of Lydias book club.

“Yes.

“You were good friends?

“Yes.

“Before she died, did she say she was having trouble with anyone? Anybody threatening her, anything like that?

“For what reason?

“I dont know; I was kind of hoping you could tell me.

Alta closed the book, marking her spot with one forefinger, but she didnt pull her feet off the counter. “Lydia Tompkins was a good and true friend of mine from the time my husband first brought me to Newenham. If anyone had threatened her and I had heard about it, I would have sought them out and kicked their behind. Whats more, I would have had to stand in line to do it.

“She had a lot of friends?

“She didnt have anything but friends.

“You remember her talking about any problems she might have had with her children?

“No.

Alta had elevated the monosyllablic response to an art form. “Well, if you remember anything

“If I do. Alta opened her book again.

Prince took the hint and left.

Mamie Hagemeister was Alta Petersons polar opposite in temperament. She burst into tears at her desk at the local jail and had to be ministered to with Kleenex and a can of Coke from the machine down the hall. “She was the greatest gal, Mamie said, blowing her nose. “One time I was sick with the flu, really sick, and she came and got my kids and kept them for three days so I could sleep. She did things like that for everybody. And she did things in the community, too. She taught Yupik at the grade school, and ran the fund-raising drive for the new fire truck, and donated time down at Maklak Center. She had an uncle who was a drunk. With a rare flash of pragmatism, she added, “Everybody in Newenham has an uncle whos a drunk. But Lydia did something about it. Dissolving once again into tears, she said, “I just dont know who would do such an awful thing. Everybody loved Lydia.

Princes ears pricked up at the news that Lydia had volunteered at the small clinic attached to the tiny hospital that treated drug and alcohol abusers. Users were notoriously unstable people, quick to take offense and slow to take responsibility, with a tendency to hit first when they were high and apologize later when they were sober and about to be jailed for the third time. There was a possibility that Lydia had offended someone and that it had resulted in a confrontation in her home. Counselors in the big city had unlisted phone numbers and had mail sent to a box at the post office. In small towns like Newenham, it just wasnt that hard to find someone.

Charlene Taylor was in the air, tracking down a rumor of a group of hunters going for bear in an area the Fish and Game had closed to hunting the month before. Prince moved on to Prime Cut, Newenhams lone beauty salon, located in the minimall that housed the Eagle grocery store. Sharon Ilutsik was blow-drying Jimmy Barnes hair. Jimmy Barnes, a rotund, bouncy little man and Newenhams harbormaster, greeted Prince with some embarrassment and was out of the chair a second later. Sharon sighed a little over his tip, and then he came bustling back in, even redder of face, to mumble an apology and shove a couple of bills her way. She brightened and accompanied Prince to the espresso stand next door to order a double skinny latte with vanilla flavoring. Prince managed not to gag and got a cup of coffee, added cream and sugar with a lavish hand, and they sat down at one of two faux-wrought-iron tables.

“Lydia Tompkins, Sharon said. “Yeah, we were friends. I usually only saw her once a month, at book club, except when she came in for a haircut. You could use one, by the way, she said, giving Prince a critical once-over. “Youre getting a little shaggy around the ears and the back of your head.

Prince ran a hand through her short, dark curls. “Ill make an appointment after were done here. When did you last see Lydia?

“At the last book club. Saturday before last.

“Did she seem upset about anything? Anything at all, it doesnt matter how unimportant it seems to you.

“No. Although

“What?

“Her daughter showed up about halfway through the evening. I remember because we were right in the middle of sitting down to dinner and Lydia ran her off. Karen was not best pleased. Sharon sipped her latte. “But then Karen is never best pleased by much, unless its a man and hes about to take his pants off.

“Thats a little harsh.

“Harsh but true, Sharon said cheerfully. “Karen defines herself by the men she sleeps with. I swear the girl has notches on her bedpost. Its probably posts, plural, by now.

“Like her mother.

“Lydia didnt sleep around, Sharon said sharply. “She and her husband had plenty of fun, and she liked to tease us with stories about it, but she wasnt at all like Karen. She was a one-man woman. She paused. “At least, she was while Stan Sr. was alive.

Prince stared. Mrs. Lydia Tompkins, plump, seventy-four, mother of four, grandmother of two, brainer of muggers with jars of sun-dried tomatoes, was doing the nasty with somebody?
I want to be Lydia when I grow up,
Bill had said. So, suddenly, did Prince. “You mean she took a lover?

“Why not? Sharon said, bristling. “She was old. She wasnt dead. Nobody says you have to stop having sex when you hit fifty. Look at Bill Billington and Grandpa Moses.

Prince had fallen into the way of regarding Bill as more of a contemporary and an ally in the good fight against evildoers, but when Sharon said it out loud, of course it was true. Bill and Moses were both older than God, and couldnt keep their hands off each other. She readjusted her thinking. “So you think Lydia had a lover.

Sharon hunched a shoulder. “I dont know. I probably shouldnt have said anything.

“Yes, you should, Prince said firmly. “Who was he?

“I dont know. I went to her house about four months ago, and somebody had sent her this big bouquet of flowers, tulips, lilies, roses; it was gorgeous. You know we dont have a florist here, so somebody had to have Goldstreaked it down on Alaska Airlines. I thought at first it was one of her kids, but she blushed when I asked her, and said no, a friend had sent them for her birthday. She never did say who, but I got the impression the friend was a guy. Sharon studied the milky stuff swirling around in her cup, and looked up with a smile. “It was kind of cute, you know? Here she was, seventy-four years old, little old Grandma Lydia, and shes getting flowers from a guy. Kinda makes you not be afraid of getting old yourself, you know?

Lola Gamechuk, thin, dark, and careworn, answered the phone six times while she talked to Prince. Five of the calls were from her daughter, Tiffany, who didnt like her babysitter and wanted Mom to come home right now. The sixth call Lola put through to Andrew Gamechuk, the current president of the Angayuk Native Association and Lolas cousin. Andrew interrupted his game of one-on-one with a sponge basketball and the hoop mounted on the wall of his office, which Prince had been watching through the open door of his office, to take the call. After a moment he got up and closed the door. Prince looked back at Lola.

“How well did you know Lydia?

“Not very.

“You were a member of her book club.

“I saw her once a month.

“Never any other time?

Shrug. “Sometimes in the store.

“Did you know of anyone who was bothering her, someone who might have held a grudge against her, who might have wanted to hurt her?

Silent stare.

“Lola, Prince said, surrounded on every side by Yupik storyknives and finger fans and dance masks and feeling whiter than white, “all I want is to catch the person who did this to Lydia. Did you know that she worked down at Maklak?

Lola, who had been staring fixedly at her desk, met Princes eyes for the first time. Hers were a deep, dark blue, framed in wings of straight black hair that curved gently beneath her jawline. With some sleep and a little animation, Lola Gamechuk could knock the world on its collective ear with that face alone. “Everybody knew that.

“Did anyone there get mad at her for any reason?

A long silence. “Maybe.

Prince tried not to pounce. “Would you know of anyone who maybe had done that?

A longer silence. “Ray.

“Ray who?

Lola looked at her fingers. “Ray Wassillie. Sometimes he drinks too much. Sometimes when he drinks too much he gets mean.

“Was he mean to Lydia?

Lolas face closed up. “I dont know.

That was all she was going to say. Prince packed up and left, trying not to look as if she was running away. The Yupik mask mounted on the wall next to the door laughed at her from within a circle of ivory and fur and feathers. She glared at it as she went out, but the grin didnt change.

“Lola was married to Ray Wassillie for about a century one year, Charlene told her, unfastening her gun belt and placing it in the second drawer down in her desk. She turned the key in the lock and put the key in her pocket.

“Oh, hell.

“Dont be mad at her. He treated her pretty badly. She told us once she never would have left him if he hadnt hit the baby.

Prince remembered the phone calls. “Tiffany?

Charlene nodded. “Tiffany wasnt even two months old, colicky, cried a lot. Ray came home drunk and lost his temper. I saw the marks. Lola gets back every way she can. Cant say I blame her much.

“Christ.

“Yeah. Charlene stretched. “Man, its windy up top. It was a bitch keeping her on course. My shoulders feel like theyve been frozen.

“You catch them? Mamie said you were tailing some hunters going after bear in a closed area.

Charlene made a disgusted face. “No. I checked all the likely strips but I couldnt find the plane. Ill go up again tomorrow, but you know what its like. I might as well be on foot, for all the good I can do. She touched her toes and sat down. “So you want to know about Lydia.

Charlene and Bill would be her best sources; Prince had known that from the beginning. Bill, as magistrate, would take an impartial, innocent-until-proven-guilty view. Charlene, on the other hand, was a cop. She worked where the human rubber met the road. Cops never took anything on faith, and disbelieved every story that was told them on principle until and unless they could confirm that the story told was fact in all its essentials, and even then remained wary and unconvinced. Cop shops bred skeptics. Skeptics cherished few illusions about human nature, and therefore were seldom disappointed. “Tell me about Lydia, Diana said.

Charlene linked her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling for inspiration. “Lydia Tompkins. Seventy-four years old. Widow of Stanley Tompkins Sr. Mother of Betsy, Stan Jr., Jerry and Karen. Born in Newenham, went to school in Newenham, married another Newenhammer. Never went farther than Anchorage when she traveled. So far as I know, never wanted to. Had an excellent relationship with her husband.

“So Ive heard.

Charlene laughed. “Ill bet. Gets along with her children. Stanley Sr. made a lot of money fishing and, unlike most of his fellow Bay fishermen, invested well and left a tidy sum, evenly divided between all concerned. Lydia could have spent a lot more money than she did. Youve seen her kitchen.