Old Chaos (9781564747136) (14 page)

Jeff and Jake were staring.

“What!” Meg shouted.

Rob was sweating with pain, but he grinned. “The governor, bless her, just asked Beth to serve out Mack’s term as sheriff of Latouche County.”

In the burrows of the Nightmare

Where Justice naked is,

Time watches from the shadow

And coughs when you would kiss
.

—
W.H. Auden,

“As I Walked Out One Evening”

B
ETH WAS FURIOUS. If she hadn’t been—if she’d just been desperately unhappy and surrounded by her grieving children, if she’d just been in pain and beside herself with anxiety for Peggy—she would have told the governor to take a hike. But Beth was as angry as she had ever been in her life. She wanted to Do Something. So she said yes.

“Excellent,” the governor said kindly. “I’ll make an announcement tomorrow afternoon. Don’t feel that you have to take up the reins immediately. I’m sending counsel from the attorney general’s office to help the county with insurance issues, and a man from the disaster team.”

A wave of advice swept over Beth. She lay back on her pillows and listened. The governor had been elected by the tiniest margin in the history of the state and had survived the recount. Beth had to admire her confidence.

Beth’s eldest, John, was watching her with anxious eyes. The others had gone off to explore Rob’s house. She managed a smile for John. She managed to thank the governor.

John took the receiver and replaced it on its cradle. “What was that?”

Beth told him.

His jaw dropped. “Good God!” He looked so blank, Beth’s fury surged. Did he doubt she could do it?

“I need to talk to Rob. He’s probably at Meg McLean’s house. Find her number for me.” She watched John’s dazed face as he fumbled with the county phone directory.

Rob said the right things, or maybe he just listened. Beth poured out her reservations. Afterwards, she couldn’t recall the content of their talk. The tone was enough. Rob didn’t just welcome the appointment, he was delighted. Why? When she’d hung up, she remembered Earl Minetti.

She swore John to secrecy and sent him away, because she needed to think. It was a good twelve hours since the landslide. She was exhausted, grieving, and in some pain. When she had eaten a little of the tasteless hospital dinner and taken her medications, she fell asleep.

She did not wake when her children returned. They watched and whispered. She did not wake later, when they had gone off to Rob’s house, and another patient was brought in from surgery. The nurse told Beth she had used a bedpan and been given more pain medication at three
a.m.,
but she didn’t remember. She finally woke at six, and everything came back to her in a waking nightmare. Mack and Peggy. Mack was gone. Frantic, she rang for the nurse, who assured her that her daughter was holding her own.

After the care-givers had attended to Beth’s needs, and she had looked at breakfast, she finally got around to thinking. By that time, it was too late to turn back, and she found she didn’t want to. Anger still burned close to the surface. She didn’t try to damp it.

The phone rang—the superintendent of schools, extending condolences. He said nothing about her appointment as sheriff. Maybe he didn’t know yet. She thanked him. The phone rang again—her principal. He was a kind man who had stood by her in difficult meetings with parents, of which she had seen a lot. He told her not to worry, that her colleagues were covering her tutorials and that the district had supplied a substitute for her classes. She told him he would have to find a permanent replacement and why. His congratulations sounded warm.

She hadn’t yet told her other children. Her third caller—at barely half past nine—was John, who talked about making “arrangements.” She winced at the word. John said he hadn’t told the others about her appointment either. He thought she should tell them. He sounded forlorn.

“Your father wanted to be cremated.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but Mack had been firm.

“Yes, Mom, I know. I need to talk to Father Martinez about the Requiem Mass.”

“When?”

Silence at the other end. He cleared his throat. “Is Monday too soon for the funeral?” It was Thursday.

Beth forced herself to agree. He promised to notify the relatives—Mack had six brothers and sisters, all living, though his parents were dead. She would have to call her own mother and sisters soon.

“And I’ll go to the bank and the credit union, stop your credit cards, look into insurance. Things like that.”

“Oh, Johnny, honey, this is so much work for you.”

“Well, it’s my kind of work.” He was the financial officer for a Portland firm.

He told her Skip and Dany were on their way to the hospital. Two neighborhood women had organized a play group for the younger grandchildren in Rob’s living room. It was too wet for them to play outside. Beatie and Cieran, ages ten and twelve, were supposed to help. Beth sent up a prayer to St. Jude to protect Hazel Guthrie’s furniture. She had known Rob’s grandmother well.

And so it went. The daughters-in-law would take turns tending baby Sophy for Skip and sorting out the pies and casseroles flowing in from bereaved constituents. Beth’s other sons, Jimmy and Mike, and Dany’s husband, Peter, had had to drive back to Portland. They would return Saturday. Dany was organizing a rota, so somebody would sit at Peggy’s bedside all the time until she regained consciousness. The family response was wonderful in its way. With all her heart, Beth wished it weren’t necessary.

At last she remembered the governor’s upcoming announcement and suggested that John warn the others. John agreed. He said he would come by the hospital later.

The phone rang again, Madeline Thomas asking about the funeral. Beth told her the tentative plans, and struck by a sudden insight, asked Maddie if she had called the governor.

“Yes. I hope you don’t hate the idea, Beth. It seems logical to me. You’ll do a good job. Nobody wants Minetti running things.” She described the press conference.

“That was officious of him, but I suppose someone has to deal with the press.” Beth paused for thought. “I told the governor yes.”

Maddie made a noise that sounded like
whew
.

They talked awhile. Maddie said Beth ought to confront the press herself as soon as possible. Otherwise, Minetti would have time to build support, which might be awkward.

“I’ll discuss it with my son.”

Maddie ignored that. “I imagine the governor called the commissioners, but you’d better talk to Tergeson yourself—he’s a Republican, you know, and won’t like the governor interfering. Might as well call Hank Auclare, too, so he won’t feel left out.”

“Maybe Karl would like to make a statement to the media for me.”

“You could ask him.” Maddie sounded doubtful. “He might be flattered. He’s a pompous old fart.”

“I can’t appear in public,” Beth blurted. “I don’t have any clothes!”

Maddie chuckled. “Then issue a press release.” She wished Beth well and hung up.

It was literally true. Dany had bought Beth a nightgown in the gift shop. Otherwise, she was stripped of all belongings. It was a strange feeling. She had never thought herself acquisitive, but having nothing was disconcerting. She thought of Mack, and the black cloud of grief moved closer. She was angry enough still to push it aside, but she knew it would soon envelop her.

She asked an aide for paper and pen. By the time Dany showed up, Beth had talked to the commissioners, assuring them that she would serve the county faithfully, or words to that effect, and had prepared a shopping list for Dany headed Underwear.

“I don’t have two cents,” Beth confessed. “Not even a credit card.”

“I’ll keep the receipts, and you can pay me back when the insuranee money comes through. I really ought to go to Portland for you, Mom. There’s not much choice in Klalo.”

“Klalo will do.” Beth did not want Dany turning her into a fashion statement. “Fred Meyer and that little shop on Pine Street. I need clothes now.”

“You must feel better.”

“The headache’s gone, but the leg hurts.” Her left leg was encased in a fiberglass cast from the knee down.

“Can you wear pantsuits with a broken leg?”

“No. Get me a long skirt. I hate skirts, but I’ll wear one tonight if I have to.”

“Tonight?”

It was time to tell Dany about the appointment. “I ought to make a public appearance,” Beth fretted after she had confessed. “The county employees will be wondering where the buck stops.”

It took Dany that long to get the message. She let out a gratifying whoop, startling Beth’s poor roommate, and danced around the room. Shortly afterwards, she left with her list, murmuring “Sheriff Mom” as she went.

Beth drowsed. From long association, she knew the workings of county government. Mack had taken a lively interest in his deputies and had trained Corky and Rob well. The department could operate without constant interference from above. Juvenile Justice? Under control. The Library was in good hands. Parks and Recreation, too. Health Services needed money and a new clinic at Two Falls. She could talk to Maddie about that. Roads. Licensing—ah, liquor, hunting, construction…

“Mrs. McCormick?”

Beth’s eyes snapped open. Her privacy curtain was drawn. She pressed the nurse’s button and the button to elevate the bed. “Come in, Earl. I was expecting you.”

He yanked the curtain aside with a rattle of rings. “I just heard… they told me…” Mack’s protégé was white in the face and looked very young.

Pity disarmed her. “They told you the governor just appointed me to serve out my husband’s term.”

“It can’t be true!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t fucking believe it.”

“I hope you’ll continue as undersheriff,” Beth murmured. “Mack thought well of you. He wanted you to gain experience outside the police function. You can start with the Chamber of Commerce meeting on Tuesday.” Mack had always enjoyed C of C meetings, Beth couldn’t imagine why.

“You’re crazy!” Minetti roared. “You’re no kind of cop. You have no right—”

“Please lower your voice,” Beth said in best classroom mode. “My roommate—”

“The hell with her. Everybody said that woman was disaster.” He must have meant the governor.

“Everybody
didn’t,” Beth rejoined. Half the voters hadn’t, plus forty-six or seventy-two or whatever the majority had been. “Are you going to calm down and communicate, Earl?”

He took a gulp of air. “Why did you say yes? You must know you have no qualifications, no experience.”

“And you do?”

“I’m a good cop. I’ve been a cop for eight years. I have a degree in law enforcement.”

“That might make sense if you were applying for Rob’s job, or Corky’s, but the sheriff is chief executive officer of the county. He or she is not just a cop.”

“Just a cop? Fuck.”

“You’ve lived in the county three years, Earl, and you haven’t done much outside the department. I was born here, grew up here, lived here all my life. I know the people, good and bad.” She knew she sounded defensive. “I’ve worked for twenty years in—”

“As a fucking English teacher.”

“You damn well betcha,” Beth snapped. “I understand you just got married.
I
was married more than forty years to a man who worked in county government his whole life. I’ve seen sheriffs come and go.” She swallowed hard, swallowed outrage. “It was a good marriage. We talked things over. I know what Mack wanted for the county and how he meant to get it. I think my credentials are good.”

“You stupid bitch, I bet you never touched a gun.”

Beth stared at him until his eyes dropped. “I grew up on a ranch potting rattlesnakes with my twenty-two. That has nothing to do with law enforcement. If you think it does, you’re dumber than you sound, which is pretty dumb.”

He raised his fist. She stared at it.

“What’s going on here?” The duty nurse entered with a burly security man at her elbow.

“Mr. Minetti was just leaving. Chamber of Commerce,” Beth said in the sweetest tones she could muster. “Tuesday, noon, at Logger Lover.” Logger Lover was a steak house.

“Damn the Chamber of Commerce,” Minetti shouted. “I quit!”