Doubled Up (Imogene Museum Mystery #2) (8 page)

“
You can run the tug with only three?”

“
We didn’t have a load, so, yeah. Both Carlos and Al can man the engine room. We’re pushing a barge of earth-moving equipment up to Boardman this weekend, so the guys’ll all be back onboard early tomorrow.”

“
What’s the craziest cargo you’ve ever hauled?” Mort asked.

Pete laughed.
“Probably the 1250 head of bison a Montana rancher was moving to Eastern Oregon. They had them loaded in pens on the barge, but the pens were too big which allowed the weight to shift too much. I white-knuckled the whole trip. It was my first live animal load. Now I insist on approving the holding pen size and placement before we leave the dock, regardless of whose barge it is.” He shook his head. “I can’t afford to lose a load, even if it was someone else’s mistake.” 

“
You must meet all kinds of interesting people,” Sally said.

“
Oh yeah — mostly real nice folks, but there’ve been a couple nut cases, too. I still worry about the guy who bought the parts to make three wind turbines. Had a chat with him when I delivered them — he said he wanted to live off the grid, but he also spent quite a lot of time ranting against the government. Those things’ll produce way more power than you need for a household or farm — definitely overkill for one guy and his family. I talked to the U.S. Marshall’s office just to make sure he was on somebody’s radar. They said they were already keeping an eye on him.”

“
If you had one of those turbines, you could probably run a massive year-round marijuana grow without anyone noticing — if your power use is off the grid,” I said. “Wow. Think how much harm a person could do if they had their own large energy source.”

“
I still feel bad,” Pete said, “about reporting him to the authorities.”

“
Sounds like you did the right thing,” Mort said. “You had good reason to be concerned.”

We crammed together in the dining nook, bumping elbows as we passed mountains of food and heaped our plates.

“This is worth praying over,” Mort said as he squeezed Sally’s hand. “Lord, again, as always, your grace abounds. Let us never forget to seek you first, above all else. Thank you for this excellent company. Amen.”

I love Mort
’s prayers, as though he’s talking with a good friend — the kind of friend who is comfortable with silences — relaxed and honest.

I ate slowly and listened to the conversation eddy and bubble with laughter. Pete
’s shoulder pressed into mine. I glanced at his chronic three-day stubble. He’d be kind of scratchy to kiss. Maybe I wouldn’t mind.

“
Did you hear about the excitement at Junction General yesterday?” Sally asked.

My stomach plunged. The thought of Ham ruined my appetite.

Pete’s warm hand rested on my knee. My fork slipped and clattered on my plate.

“
A domestic disturbance,” he said. “A couple of out-of-towners.”

“
What a pity,” Sally replied. “I heard there was quite a mess.” She looked at Mort. “The store was closed today. Do you think—?”

“
Yes,” Mort said. “Let’s go in the morning and see if Gloria needs help.”

“
Who’s ready for dessert?” Pete asked. He rose to fetch the pies.

I exhaled. Considering how fast both truth and rumor spread through Platts Landing, I was grateful word of the semi truck break-in hadn
’t made it to Mort and Sally. I didn’t feel prepared to fend off questions about the stolen goods and what might or might not have been inside the crates — or inside a toilet tank in the museum.

Mort checked his watch.
“I always have time for dessert. But I’m a little worried about the storm coming in tonight. I hope the kids get home ahead of it.”

“
Storm?” I asked.

“
They’re predicting freezing rain, or sleet — what is the proper term? And high winds.” Sally handed me a plate with slivers of pecan, apple and pumpkin pies on it. “Figured you’d want a sampler.”

“
You got that right.” I grinned.

“
Sleet falls in pellet form, sort of like hail,” Pete said. “Freezing rain is liquid that freezes on contact, and it’s the worst. Working the tug is treacherous in freezing rain. I hope it clears by morning.” He nudged me and pointed at the huge slice of pie on his plate. “Pecan is my all-time favorite.”

“
Really? Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.” I flushed. That might have come out the wrong way. When I caught Sally give Mort a little side-long smile, I knew for sure. Uh-oh. Good thing Pete’s mouth was full, or he might have compounded my embarrassment.

“
You know, sweetie, I hate to rush, but maybe we should head home,” Mort said, “so we’re there when the kids arrive.”

Sally patted his shoulder.
“I’ll just pack up some of this food for Pete.”

I stayed on my bench, out of the way, since the galley was already a tight squeeze with three moving bodies. Sally heaped leftovers into containers and stacked dishes in the small sink.

“I’ll help clean up,” I called, “so you two can get going. Thanks so much for all the yummy food.”

“
You make sure to take some of this home, too, Meredith,” Sally said in her kindergarten teacher voice.

Mort helped Sally into her coat and hoisted their cooler.
“Weighs as much as when we came.”

“
Oh, it does not.” Sally gave him a playful smack. “’Night, all.”

A blast of frigid air from the open door raised goose bumps on my arms. I scooted out of my seat and stood next to Pete to wave goodbye to the Levines. I shivered, and he put an arm around me.

“Boy, I bet the temperature’s dropped ten degrees in the last couple hours,”  he said.

We stepped back, and he closed the door.
“You should leave soon, too. There are extra bunks since the crew’s not onboard, but, uh — well, it wouldn’t—”

“
No. Of course not,” I said. “This town already has enough to talk about.”

I hurried to the sink and turned on the tap.
“I did want to take a couple plates to the jail. I feel sorry for Val — being locked up on Thanksgiving, and a Lean Cuisine frozen dinner just can’t compare to a real home-cooked meal.”

I wanted a plate for Terry too, but didn
’t want to open that subject with Pete. “Sheriff Marge or a deputy are bound to be around as well, so I thought I’d take extra.” I looked at Pete over my shoulder. “If you don’t mind?” I plunged my hands into the hot, soapy water.

“Sally left enough to feed an army.” Pete came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. He spoke quietly. “I don’t mean to sound like I’m kicking you out, but I want you to leave right away. The roads are going to be slippery, and since you’re driving to Lupine and back — can you call me when you get home? I need to know you’re safe.”

I turned to him, hands dripping, and studied his face. His sapphire blue eyes were serious. He handed me a dish towel.
             

“
Actually, how about if I come with you?” he said.

What could I say? He
’d want to know who Terry was, and I might spill the beans about the gold in the statues. So many bits of research information were swirling around in my head, I was afraid something might pop out at the wrong time. I hated not being able to tell him.

I glanced down, but Pete was standing so close, all I could see was his shirt front. I was suddenly very warm.
“I — I was kind of hoping to have a conversation with Val, um — you know — I just—” I took a deep breath. “I know how hard it is when you find out someone you trusted isn’t trustworthy, and I thought maybe she’d need to talk about it. I don’t know if she’ll want to see me, but I thought I’d try.”

Pete tipped my chin up. The crinkle-corners were back.
“Then let’s get you on the road.”

We quickly filled plates and wrapped them.

Pete went first, carrying my basket and truck keys. I followed, gripping the ramp railing with my bare hand as a smattering of rain flew at a forty-five degree angle. I patted my coat pocket. No lump. My gloves were on the top shelf of the closet at home. Tuppence trotted, head down and ears flapping, straight for the open truck door and jumped onto the seat. Pete hurried around to the driver’s side and helped me in.

“
Call me when you get home, no matter how late it is,” he said as a wind gust flipped up his coat collar. “You can always spend the night at the jail if you need to.”

“
Very funny.”

“
I’m serious.” He shut my door.

CHAPTER 7

On the open highway, gusts buffeted the truck, but very little rain dotted the windshield. I gripped the steering wheel and pressed on the accelerator. The Columbia River Gorge is like a funnel for the large basin east of the Cascades. Col
d air rushing through the channel brings several severe storms each winter. Exciting and potentially dangerous.

I was worried about talking to Val. I
’d been so angry at Ham’s duplicity when I’d first discovered it that I’d fled. His mother, Arlene, had helped me pack. She was the only one who’d supported my decision, who’d understood. My mother and step-father told me it wasn’t a big deal, that these things happen and I should just learn to live with them. At least Arlene admitted to her son’s faults even as she fervently hoped he’d outgrow them.

But Val had seemed desperate to hang on to Ham. Maybe if she knew what he really was, she wouldn
’t feel so betrayed. I jerked the steering wheel against a blast of wind. Poor kid. It was worth a try.

I figured Sheriff Marge would forgive me if I sped a little, and I raced into Lupine twenty-five minutes later. It felt deserted. Even the tavern parking lots were empty. Yellow light emanated from most houses
’ kitchen windows and blue glows shone from the living room windows — televised football games in full swing.

I pulled into the courthouse parking lot next to a deputy
’s cruiser and rolled my window down half an inch, giving Tuppence a tiny crack for fresh air.

I pushed the intercom buzzer on the secure side door used as the jail entrance and smiled up at the video camera.

Deputy Archie Lanphier’s scratchy voice came over the speaker. “Hey, Meredith. Is that a picnic basket?”

“
Yep.”

“
Then I guess I’ll let you in.”

The lock clicked, and I pulled open the door. Down the dingy sloped hallway, the air grew cooler and mustier with each step. The jail was in the basement, and it stank of moldy carpet and fresh paint. I waved at the second camera, and the next door clicked open.

Archie pulled his feet off the desk, stood and hitched up his gun belt and pants in one motion. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“
I was hoping to visit your prisoners — well, your prisoner and your guest. I brought them some home-cooking.” I set the basket on the desk and lifted out the loaded plates. “I have an extra plate for you, too. I’m sorry you drew dungeon duty today.”

“
It’s not so bad. We’re splitting half-shifts. Dale took the morning stint, and Owen Hobart covered this afternoon. So I’ve already had my big meal and caught the end of the Steelers’ game.” He inspected a plate. “These dill potato rolls look like they have Sally Levine’s fingerprints on them.”

“
Wow, you’re good.”

Archie laughed.
“Naw, I recognize them from the Sunday potlucks, and I make sure to grab a couple every time I see them. I’m a meat and potatoes and bread kind of guy.” He pursed his lips. “Okay if I save this for later?”

“
It’s all yours. How are things in there?” I tipped my head toward the steel door to the cells.

“
Quiet. That little gal can get fired up, but I think she’s worn herself out now. Sort of don’t know what to do with her except give her tissues. She’s kind of weepy.” Archie looked uncomfortable and hitched up his pants again. “They’re talking about letting her out, so that’d be good.”

“
Out?”

“
Yeah. Gloria doesn’t want to press charges and neither does the fellow she hit with the can. Sheriff’s been working on the prosecutor’s office to drop it with maybe some restitution fees or something. Gloria just wants her to promise she’ll never go inside Junction General again.”

I laughed.
“I can understand that.”

“
Say, I heard you know the guy — what’s his name? Some meat. Anyway, that you’re, uh, friends — from way back.”

“
Not exactly. How’s Terry?”

“
Quiet too. Calls his mom a couple times a day. Seems nice enough, keeps to himself. I’d go crazy if it was me — I’d never voluntarily spend time in jail. ‘Course, he’s not locked in.”

I pointed to the plates.
“Can I take these in to them?”

“
You didn’t hide knives in the cranberry sauce or anything?” Archie laughed at his joke but stopped when he saw my scowl. “Sure. I just need to wand you.” He looked uncomfortable again.

I pulled my keys from of my pocket and tossed them in the picnic basket. I held my arms out while Archie rapidly waved the metal detector wand along my limbs. I tried to keep from smiling. Archie is downright fidgety around women.

“I’ll buzz you through.”

Plates in hand, I pushed the door open with my behind. Terry was in the closest cell in the row of six concrete block cubicles. His barred sliding door was open, and he sat on a folding chair with his feet propped on the lower bunk. He was reading a John Grisham novel.

“Learning anything?” I asked.

“
Nope.” Terry stood quickly and tossed the book on the bed.

I handed him a plate.
“We crammed as much as we could on one plate, so hot and cold foods are mixed together. Sorry I can’t microwave it for you.”

“
For me? Looks great.” He peeled back the plastic wrap and inhaled, holding the plate just inches under his nose. “Wanna sit down?” He gestured toward the folding chair.

“
I’m going to deliver this plate to the other inmate, but I’ll stop by on my way out.”

“
Yeah, Val.” Terry nodded. He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “I’m worried about her. I think that good-for-nothin’ broke her heart.”

I raised my eyebrows. Terry
— the relationship counselor?

“
I’ve been trying to cheer her up, but that ain’t exactly my strong suit.” He scratched the back of his head with his free hand.

“
Hey, your bandage is gone.”

“
Nick came and checked it. Said the cut’s healing okay. Itches like h— crazy.”

I grinned and walked toward the makeshift curtain strung across the aisle before the last cell. Women
’s quarters.

“
Val?” I called. “Okay if I come in?” I poked my head around the edge of the fabric.

“
Yeah,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Val sat curled on the bottom bunk with her feet tucked under her. Her face was blotchy and devoid of makeup, hair pulled back in a long ponytail. Still in the pink designer sweat suit but no longer sparkly.

“I brought you Thanksgiving dinner.” Val’s cell door was closed and locked, so I pushed the plate into the rectangular food tray slot.

Val slowly unwound her legs and shuffled over.
“Thanks,” she sniffed.

“
You probably don’t know me — I’m Meredith.”

“
Yeah, I know.” Val stood with her arms limp at her sides, her head hanging as she gazed at the floor. “You’re the one Ham really loves.”

I snorted.
“Ham doesn’t really love anyone except himself. I found that out the same way you did a couple years ago.”

“
But he came back for you. He wants you. He said you’d make the perfect judge’s wife.”

I spluttered. There just weren
’t words.

I stamped my foot hard on the concrete floor, then winced when the pain registered.
“Aaargh! That man is so self-absorbed he doesn’t hear ‘No’ when it’s shouted in his face.”

Val looked up, startled.
“You mean he does that to you too?” She returned to the bunk and sat on the edge. “Oh.” She stared at her feet and wiggled her toes inside jail-issued slipper socks. “I thought he wasn’t paying attention.” A little smile slid across her face. “So I threw things for emphasis.”

I giggle-snorted.

Val giggled.

“
You might be the only woman Ham’s dated brave enough to actually give him what he deserves,” I said.

“
Oh no. He deserves way worse.”

I sat cross-legged on the cold floor and leaned toward the bars.
“So what is this about a judgeship?”

Val came over and sat facing me. She laced her fingers through the bars.
“He’s running against Anita Hadley for a Superior Court seat.”

“
Anita Hadley? Ham dated her when they were both in the prosecutor’s office. She hates his guts.”

“
Exactly. The campaign’s getting nasty. Ham figured having a respectable soon-to-be wife by his side would help dispel some of Anita’s allegations. My family’s too blue-collar, so I’m not qualified for the position.”

“
You wanted the position?”

Val shook her head.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I just hate the back-handed way it all happened.” She sighed. “Campaigning isn’t really my thing, anyway. I want to be an executive assistant during the day and play with my dog in the evening. That’s enough excitement for me.”

I nodded. Yep, a good job and a dog
— all a girl really needed. “What allegations?”

Val
’s eyebrows arched. “You’d think Anita lives under a slimy rock with all the things she’s suggested — bribery, general fiscal irresponsibility, philandering, cronyism — just because she’s not the one getting the favors.” Val picked at her nail polish. “She’s nasty, but I wonder if some of her claims are true. Ham just breezes over it. He won’t explain, at least not to me.”

I wrinkled my nose. I didn
’t want to tell Val that I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the allegations were true. My experience with Ham was that he danced along the edge of morality and every once in a while he tripped over the line.

I heaved a sigh. Maybe Val had made a narrow escape, the way I had.
“Well, if you’re still here this weekend — which I hope you’re not — but if you are, I’ll bring my dog in. She’s really good at letting people pet her.”

Val smiled.
“Thanks. It was awfully nice of you to bring food.” She stood and brushed off the seat of her pants. “Awfully nice to come at all.”

I smiled back.

Terry was scraping the last gravy from his plate when I returned.

“
How’s your mom?”

“
Fretting.” Terry shook his head.

“
You can go home, can’t you?”

“
Yeah. Probably just get a slap on the wrist for parole violation. But I’m staying.”

“
Why?”

Terry spread his arms.
“Best alibi around.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
I’m no dummy. There’s something going on with the stolen shipment. Sheriff keeps asking me questions.” He ran a finger inside his shirt collar. “Something big  — and I don’t know nothin’ about it. I don’t wanna to get blamed for something I didn’t do.”