Murder at Fire Bay (30 page)

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Authors: Ron Hess

BOOK: Murder at Fire Bay
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Whereupon she let loose again with the most vile series of curse words I had ever heard. To his credit, he ignored her.

“Where’s your car, Bronski?” he asked.

We were silent on the drive to the airport. Ashley let out a few words now and then, but we were past paying any attention. As I got out at my Jeep, the chief held out his hand.
 

“That was a good job you did up there, Leo,” he said with a smile. “For Regular Army. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

I just nodded and smiled as I shook his hand and got out of his car. With a hail of gravel from his tires, he went careening off into the night. I leaned against the Jeep, looked up at the starlit sky, and wondered. Wondered who I was and why. They say we live on the third planet of a small sun on a trailing arm of the Milky Way galaxy. I don’t believe them. I think we live at the center of the whole universe. I shook my head. Too many questions, Bronski, and you’re better off not knowing. I took a deep breath to stave off the shakes. Not here, Bronski, better to wait until you are safe in your room.

I made it back to my room okay, for which I was thankful. I then made a call to Jeanette to let her know I was safe and sound and that I had survived the chief’s wild ride.

“Leo! I just knew you were going to be all right! I can’t explain it. But I knew! I also knew you would resolve the drug scene there at the post office. The Boss will be happy too! You better get a pay raise out of this detective work.”
 

“Ha!” I answered. “That’ll be the day. He’ll just say it’s part of my job description and that will be that.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” she retorted.

I smiled. Jeanette was riding high. She told me she loved me and would see me soon. She hung up before I could ask her what she meant by ‘see you soon.’

Ah . . .well, probably just happy her old man was still alive.

Then and only then did I reach for the bottle, and poured myself a half glass of that fine brew. I managed to get it down just before the shakes started. Just as I knew they would. Just as they did in Nam. But this night I would not allow the visions to haunt me, because I would be out in a nameless, dreamless world.

 

Chapter 37

 

Came the dawn, just as it had to. Drunks always have a hard time with mornings. Not that I called myself a drunk exactly, that was for all those other people. Nope, I just sometimes misused one of nature’s gifts. In this case, Jack Daniel’s. But after that half a water glass of whiskey, I certainly did sleep well. Still in bed, I managed to focus my eyes on the ceiling. That also went well. The question was, could I lift my head off the pillow and sit up? I took a deep breath and eased myself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

My head whirled. I should have known it would. It had been some time since I drank that much. I was sitting there thinking about that and whether it meant I was headed down a dark trail, when I heard first the footfall coming up the stairs. There came a few short raps on the door.

“Mr. Bronski. There’s a man on the phone, says he’s your boss, wants you on the phone, ASAP.”
 

I answered that I would take the call. Although the phone was in my room, it was at least five feet away. Could I handle that? My little voice said I had better try. I did it the sure way—by crawling.

“Yes, sir,” I said, in a most respectful way.

“Bronski. Do you know what time it is?”

I squinted at the nearby clock radio. It was ten o’clock. Holy Crap!

“Yes, sir. Sorry. I must have overslept.”

“Well, Leo, I don’t know how, but you did it again. You left your station without approval and not only that you dragged along an employee. Do you realize what could have happened if he had been killed? The union would have screamed bloody murder! The U.S. Postal Service would have been sued for millions!”

There was a pause, while he gathered steam and I began to wonder what would have been said had I lost my life. Probably not much. I would simply have been shipped in a box back to Western Alaska, cried over by my wife, and put in the ground. End of story.

“Bronski, are you still there? You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

“Oh, no, sir.” I replied.

“Well, the only reason I’m letting you off so easy is that you were in this morning’s Anchorage newspaper. You know some reporter down there?”

Bless the Princess, she had done it again. She must have gone to the office immediately after dumping Jim off at the hospital and sent in her story. It might make her career and had probably saved mine.

“Yes, sir, I know Emily Jems real well. Great up-and-coming reporter and adventurer.”

“Um . . . I see. Well, so much for that, Leo. I have to say you did a great job. I’ll fill you in later. By the way, have you any news on the murder of Gloria?”

Good old Boss. When you had a horse under you, you rode him into the ground.

“Yes, sir. It shouldn’t be long. Uh . . . sir, when this is all over, I need a vacation.”

The Boss actually chuckled. “Sure, Leo, you deserve it.”

And he hung up.

Well, that hadn’t gone so bad, had it? I mean, I hadn’t been fired. But would I have if I hadn’t made the newspaper? There was a lesson here. For sure, I would thank Emily.

Mrs. Mordant eyed me suspiciously as I came down the stairs. Of course, that look might have been justified when I stumbled once, but such things can’t be helped. When she suggested breakfast, I’m sure I paled, which could only have confirmed her suspicions. I thanked her for the idea and made off in the Jeep after a nod and a wink to the old man. He gave me a smile in return, which somehow gave me a boost.
 

After a quick pass through the post office main floor, I held a quick conference with Sam to make sure everything was moving along okay. He assured me it was, except for a small box behind a machine up in the furnace room. I told him to put it into the post office safe and we would decide later what to do.
 

“But on second thought, Sam, why don’t you call John Crouch, the postal inspector? You might as well learn how to deal with that kind. He is not a bad guy, but he loves to growl. If he says anything about why he wasn’t notified earlier, tell him you are acting under my instructions. That’ll cool his heels for about thirty minutes.”

Sam nodded and smiled. “Yes, sir, I know all about Mr. Crouch.”

I gave him a second look. We had to have a talk sometime, but now wasn’t the time. I was curious about who he really was and where he came from. The words “undercover agent” kept coming to mind.

On the way out, I stopped to talk to Martha.

“I’m glad to see you’re back, Martha, and I hope you’re doing better?”

She paused in her sorting and slowly faced me. The hair on the back of my neck actually rose. What was I looking at? Those eyes, those eyes were dead. I’m sure she saw my Adam’s apple bob, but I went ahead and explained to her about my scrapbook and how I had a picture of everyone but her.
 

“I’ll be back in this afternoon to get your picture, okay?”

I said this with a smile, hoping to get a reply in return, but all I received was one slight nod, just enough to let me know she had heard me. I went on to the back door, knowing something was not right. Whatever it was, I hoped it would wait.

 

Chapter 38

 

As I drove to the Eat More, I felt like a ten-ton weight had been lifted from my shoulders. True, there was still the question of Gloria Plinski to be taken care of, but I had a pretty good idea Martha had killed her. I had to get a picture of her, though, to show my star witness, a man who could barely talk and—who knows—might have another stroke at any time. With this in mind, I made a detour to the local drug store to get another disposable plastic camera. It was imperative I get that picture of Martha ASAP, if for nothing else, to keep the Boss off my neck.

After purchasing the camera, I headed once more to the Eat More. With a little luck, by the end of the day a murder might be solved. I pulled into the parking lot and noted there was a rental car alongside Emily’s car. A smile came to my lips. Emily was no doubt telling her story to a big-city reporter or better yet—and I let out a chuckle—was being interviewed for a job elsewhere.
 

I parked and nonchalantly walked into the Eat More. Or let’s say I tried to. For it was she, the love of my life, sitting there, dressed in a black suit, calmly swinging her leg in my direction. Did my eyes bug out? Had she and Emily had a good laugh, plotting to surprise me? Oh, yes, they had. In a second, Jeanette was in my arms, wanting to know how I was and me wanting to know how she got here so quickly from Western Alaska. She stepped back from me, her eyes welling up.

“Leo Bronski, when I heard the post office had been robbed, I called the Boss and told him I was coming in on a chartered plane. My sister Jean could handle things at Howes Bluff for a few days. I was not going to let my man be by himself! He could fire me if he wanted to. He growled, but he let me come.”

I could not speak. Jeanette smiled through her tears and led me over to Emily’s table. I sat down and managed to blurt out. “You know Emily Jems?”

“Of course.”

I looked at Emily, who grinned, her mouth full of braces.

“See, Bronski, I wanted some depth for this story. Who was this Lochinvar who came out of the West, and whose steed was the best? I tried talking to your boss, but he hung up on me. That left me no choice. I called the woman in your life.”

“I didn’t give her much,” Jeanette said. “Only that you were the most wonderful man I had ever known.”

“So I said to myself,” Emily went on, “all that’s very well, but who is this Bronski? So I called the village constable, and he talked for half an hour about how you solved a murder in Howes Bluff and stayed on. You’re a troubleshooter. When all else fails, you’re brought in. Somehow you stumble around and find out things.”

I interrupted her. “Thanks for the praise, but I still don’t know for sure who killed Gloria Plinski, though I should know this afternoon.”

I looked over to Jeanette and rubbed her knee with mine under the table. She blushed. Now it was Emily’s turn to smile. “I understand from Jeanette there is kind of a surprise waiting for you at the office.”

Jeanette stretched her arms back over her head in a languid fashion, something I had seen her do a hundred times in bed. It was her way of promising some good times ahead. Then she lowered her arms and studiously studied her nails.

“Oh yes, I forgot,” she said, as if it were a small matter. “The Boss will be there shortly at the post office.”

“Really?” I said. “Whatever for?”

“I think he wants to inspire the employees.”

That figured, I thought. Probably wants to tell them what a great job they’re doing and then in the same breath, tell them he’s sorry about the overtime they will be getting. Aloud, I said, “Inspire the troops, huh? I smell work in the air.”

Jeanette kneed me under the table. “Aren’t you glad you’re at Howes Bluff?”

I looked at her brown eyes and that look was enough.

Emily was becoming bored. “Look, you two; I don’t have time for all this reunion stuff. I think we should get to the post office.”

“You’re coming too?” I asked.

“Sure, who do you think saved your butt?”

That took me a second or two to think about. I guess she had. That scene at the airport could have turned real ugly if she had stayed by the log like I had told her to. Thank goodness she had disobeyed me. I decided to go with the flow.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said.

The place was quiet as a tomb when we walked in the door. The reason, of course, was that the Boss, his bald head gleaming in the fluorescent lights, was slowly walking around, scaring everyone half to death. A cigar poked from his mouth, but at least it wasn’t lit. Even bosses know their limits. Aware of my presence, naturally he spoke before I could get over the idea he was there.

“Bronski! Good to see you!” He shook my hand vigorously, no doubt to show the troops there was solidarity between us managers. To my surprise, he gave Jeanette a dignified hug, probably to show everyone he was human.

Then he saw Emily standing there in her black princess uniform. He almost reverted to form. “Who’s this?”

It was my turn to grin. “This is Ms. Emily Jems, the newspaper reporter.”

“Oh yes,” he said, and gave her a warm handshake. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam looking at them anxiously. Would the Boss approve? But he need not have worried. The Boss was taken with the innocent looking Ms. Jems.

“Ah . . .Boss, should we go to my office?”

“Sure, Bronski. I wanted to hear your story in person, and I bet Ms. Jems can fill in anything you leave out.”

He had to say that, of course. I didn’t hold it against him. The Boss wouldn’t be where he was if he weren’t a political animal. As we weaved through the cases to my office, the Boss committed about how he liked the way everything was set up. Again, this was said loud enough for the employees to hear.

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