The Alpine Journey (26 page)

“Of what?” I wished Vida were present with her encyclopedic memory. Or that I could take notes. It sounded as if Stuart Kane had something important to say, and if I omitted any details, Vida, as she'd put it, would be
wild.

“Stina's afraid for me,” Stu responded, his voice now grave. “I'm no saint, but I do love my wife. However, she can be irrational. Stina got it into her head that I was—how shall I put this?—carrying on with Audrey. That's not true.”

“It's not.” My voice was flat.

Stu shook his head. “Not at all. Audrey came to me several times, asking advice about selling the house, the shop, setting herself up in business in Portland. She trusted me, had faith in my judgment. There was no difference between Audrey asking me for advice and Gordon seeking sympathy from Stina. In both cases, the relationships were innocent. But Stina has trouble believing that.”

Since Stuart Kane appeared to have a reputation as a ladies' man, I could understand his wife's reaction. “You said you had a talk with Stina. Was it about the alleged affair? Did you convince her it never happened?”

“I hope so.” Stu took a deep breath. “It's vital that she believes me. Otherwise—and this is very difficult for me to say out loud—I honestly think she may suspect that I killed Audrey.”

Great
, I thought.
If Stina's right, here's old Emma, practically paralyzed with pain, entertaining a homicidal maniac.

“But you didn't,” I said in a voice that begged it to be so.

“Of course not.” Stu actually laughed. “I'd never hurt Audrey. I never have. We've always been the best of friends.”

“Oh.” I gulped. “That's … nice.”

“It was Gordon that I didn't particularly care for,” Stu went on. “He was all wrong for Audrey from the start. Too spineless, too unadventurous. I tried to talk her out of marrying him, but Audrey was always headstrong. That was one of her charms; maybe her greatest strength, too.”

I gave myself a little shake. Something didn't track here. Was my brain as nonfunctional as my body? “You knew Audrey before she was married?”

Again came that laugh. “Of course. Before Audrey married Gordon, she married me.”

I SHOULD
HAVE guessed. Stina Kane had made allusions to Audrey that indicated knowledge prior to Cannon Beach. The Audrey-Stuart union also explained the references to an early marriage. I—along with Vida—had assumed the marriage was between Gordon and Audrey. But that wasn't necessarily so. We had taken too much for granted, and ignored other signals along the way.

Stu's account was quite simple, really. He'd arrived in San Francisco for what was to be only a visit. But he liked the city, and had fallen in love with America. He had not—quite—fallen in love with Audrey. Yet when his visitor's visa expired and he couldn't get a green card, Audrey had offered to marry him. For her, it was a lark; for him, it was his ticket to a new life.

“My parents were divorced,” Stu explained. “I was ten, and had a younger sister. We'd lived in Christchurch on the south island, but my mother's family was in Auckland, on the north island. We moved there, but Celia and I were shunted back and forth, forth and back, to spend half the year with each parent. It was harrowing. By the time I was eighteen, I felt like two different people. It was an unpleasant divorce, with my mum and my dad fighting constantly, even though they were in different
parts of the country. My sister and I grew up with a great deal of unbearable stress and a terrible sense of guilt. Celia's never married, and she's a very bitter woman. But I got away, I had to, and San Francisco was where I headed. I realized then that I could make a new start. Audrey helped me do that, and I'm eternally grateful.”

“But the marriage didn't last?” I remarked, still wishing that Vida had been on hand for this revelation.

“No. We liked each other, we shared some interests, but we were too young and—frankly—we were never serious about the commitment. We split up in less than two years. I decided to leave San Francisco and enroll at the University of Oregon in Eugene. That's where I met Stina. She was helping to put her first husband through engineering school and working in the bookstore. Her marriage was already on the rocks. We didn't really start seeing each other until after her divorce and I finished my degree in business. Three years later we were married. We wanted to be sure, since we'd each had a failure behind us.”

The irony of Stu's words struck me: he didn't want another broken marriage, yet he allegedly conducted affairs. His own family background was rooted in domestic discord. According to Stina, he hadn't gone back to New Zealand until their visit last winter. Family ties didn't bind Stuart Kane; nor did marriage vows keep him faithful.

Yet his story touched me somehow. However, when he had finished, I kept to factual matters. “Do people here in Cannon Beach know that you and Audrey had been married?”

“No,” Stu replied, looking faintly embarrassed. “There was no need for them to know. Audrey had been estranged from her father for some time. If Rett Runkel ever
knew about the marriage, he didn't pay any attention. He was heavily into alcoholism at the time. I believe she told her mother, but I never met Rosalie. I understand she lives down at Manzanita. I may have seen her, but I wouldn't recognize her.”

“And Marlin?” I asked, wondering if he was locked in a cell in Astoria this morning.

“Marlin!” Stu made a slashing motion with his hand. “Who can say? The man's completely disassociated from reality.”

“So you and Audrey and Stina and Gordon all managed to keep the marriage your little secret?” I was incredulous.

“That's right.” Stu's long, lean face was very earnest. “It wasn't that hard, really. Audrey had been gone for several years, and when she returned with a husband and children, there was no reason to ask embarrassing questions. Stina and I'd been living here for a while by the time the Imhoffs arrived. I had to tell Stina, of course. It wouldn't have been fair not to. And I must admit, my wife was jealous from the start. But she had no reason.” Stuart Kane gave a dismissive shrug, as if his innocence was never at stake.

“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked, and realized that my manner was openly suspicious.

Again, Stu gave me that charming smile with just a hint of self-deprecation. “When Stina and I had our talk last night, it occurred to both of us that the authorities must know by now that Audrey and I were once married. They haven't come round to question me again, but I'm sure they will. The secret will be out. Besides, I was unspeakably rude to you, to your friend, and to my wife. Maybe it's a peace offering. After all, while Audrey and I were husband and wife, Ms. Runkel was my aunt.”

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. It hurt, so I tried to stop and ended up choking and coughing. “Sorry,” I gasped. “It's just that Vida—Ms. Runkel—has so many relatives. I think half the world is related to her somehow.”

“Well, it is, you know,” Stu said, still looking earnest. “Six degrees of separation and all that.”

“It's different with Vida.” I got a Kleenex out of my shoulder bag and blew my nose. “It's more like two degrees of separation. Someday I'm going to find out that she's tenth in line to the English throne.”

Stu appeared somewhat puzzled, and I couldn't blame him. “I hope to apologize to her in person before she leaves,” he said. “Do you know how long she plans to stay in Cannon Beach?”

Was I imagining that Stu seemed anxious to have Vida depart? Several people appeared to wish her on her way. But at least she hadn't gotten a threatening note.

I shook my head. “I've no idea.”

Standing up, Stu reached into the pocket of his safari shirt and took out a business card. “Please give her this. I'll be in touch.” He flashed me another smile.

By the time Stu left a minute later, it was almost eleven. My aches and pains had been slightly alleviated by the combination of movement and Excedrin. Since there was nothing to eat except bread and a few packaged cookies, I decided to walk into town and have breakfast. Leaving Vida a note, I headed out into the sunshine.

It was a golden morning, one of those perfect autumn days with diamonds dancing on the waves. I went slowly, carefully, crossing the bridge over Ecola Creek, and down Third Street to Hemlock, where I saw a sign for Whale Park. I knew the Kanes lived close by; Stu had probably walked from their home to the motel.

I paused outside of Bruce's Candy Kitchen, dreaming of chocolate-covered raisins and honey-filled sea foam and, appropriately enough in Cannon Beach, huge haystack clusters. I'm not much for sweets as a rule, but ocean-resort candy stores turn me into a chocolate hog.

Willing myself to keep going, I started past Osburn's Grocery Store. The combination deli, ice creamery, and grocer's was one of the oldest buildings in town, with an old-fashioned front porch that ran the width of the wood-frame structure. I had almost gone by when it dawned on me that this was where Derek worked. I retraced my steps and went inside.

A middle-aged woman with rhinestone-studded glasses and a warm smile informed me that Derek had the day off. “He's sick, I guess,” she said from behind the checkout counter. The store was fairly quiet, with only a handful of customers browsing the aisles. “No wonder. Those kids have been through the wringer. I'm Bea. Are you a relative from out of town?”

“I'm Emma.” We shook hands, then I explained my connection to the Imhoffs via Vida.

Bea laughed. “The one with the hat? She was here about an hour ago, looking for Derek. She had his girlfriend with her. Is it true they're getting married?”

So Vida had somehow rounded up Dolores. I wasn't surprised, but I was distracted. “What? Oh—I don't know. They've got some kind of plans, I think.”

Bea nodded sagely. “They shouldn't rush it, not with all that's happened. They're still kids.”

A redheaded woman about my age wheeled a half-filled cart up behind me. I thanked Bea and left, wondering if Vida and Dolores had gone to the Imhoff house.

Crossing Second Street, I passed Sandpiper Square,
which was set off from Hemlock and featured several shops and boutiques I wouldn't have minded exploring if I'd felt better. The large shake-covered building also contained offices, one of which Vida had said belonged to the resident doctor. I hesitated, then kept on going. Any diagnosis more sophisticated than my own would require X rays, which I assumed would have to be taken in Seaside. In any event, I was sure that there wasn't anything seriously wrong with me. I was simply banged up and would get over it in time.

Unfortunately, I didn't want to spend more time recovering. I could take a bus, but that would mean several transfers. The train would be equally complicated. A plane was out of the question. Even if I could fly out of Seaside, it would probably be an expensive charter into Portland, and I'd still have to get from Seattle to Alpine. I was stuck in Cannon Beach until I could drive myself home.

In my musings, I'd walked too far, passing two of the restaurants that I knew served a breakfast menu. I found myself in front of the Cannon Beach Book Company with its wide veranda and mellow wood exterior.

We had no real bookstore at home, only a tiny secondhand shop tucked into the second floor of the Alpine Building and a combination outlet on Front Street that featured greeting cards, wrapping paper, novelties, and the current best-sellers, mostly in paperback. Fending off my hunger pangs, I wandered inside to stand transfixed in front of tables with enticing covers. Recalling the crammed bookcase in the Imhoff house, I went up to the woman who stood behind the main desk and introduced myself.

“You were in the wreck with Gordon,” she said,
shaking my hand. “I'm Valerie Bryan. I own the store.” She gave me a big smile.

“You know Gordon?” I said.

“Honey, I know everybody. This is Cannon Beach.” She was still smiling. The bookstore proprietor was a pretty woman with a deep tan and short, smartly cut gray hair. Her brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “Aren't you from a small town, too?” she asked. “Somewhere up toward Stevens Pass?”

“Right, Alpine.” I glanced around to make sure I wasn't holding up any of Valerie's customers. A stoop-shouldered man was absorbed in something near the back of the store while two middle-aged women chattered over the cookbook section. A mother with a toddler in a high-tech stroller perused children's books. “Everybody knows everybody there, too, though it's somewhat bigger than Cannon Beach. I own the weekly newspaper.”

“Ah!” Valerie's eyes sparkled. “Another female entrepreneur. I've been involved in PR and publicity myself. But this is better. I'll never get rich, but I love what I'm doing.”

“That's what Audrey wanted, I gather. To start her own business.” I paused, waiting for Valerie to comment.

“She had her own business, the Jaded Eye.” She gave me a hard, but not unfriendly stare. “If you ask me, Audrey wanted to escape. Big mistake, nobody can do that, because what you're really running away from is yourself.”

“Did you know her well?” I inquired.

“Not really,” Valerie replied, toying with the cord on which her glasses hung from her neck. “I knew Gordon better, although they both came in occasionally. In fact, Audrey was here the afternoon before she died.”

My interest was piqued. “How did she seem?”

Valerie didn't take time to reflect. “Full of herself. She was leaving. I couldn't help but taunt her a little, because it was Friday the thirteenth. I'm not really superstitious—in fact, I was born on Friday the thirteenth, in May. But I'm a city girl, from Seattle. I've only lived in Cannon Beach for the past three years. I told her she'd be sorry. Sharks are swimming in city waters. Making it on your own is tough.”

An older couple, well groomed and with the air of affluent retirement, entered the store and nodded to Valerie before moving into the art section. “How did Audrey react?” I asked.

Valerie shrugged. “Like Audrey. She didn't care what people thought. Anyway, she said she wasn't worried. She'd managed to put aside enough to make it on her own.”

The man who had been at the back of the store came up to the desk with a copy of Jon Hassler's
North of Hope.
I stepped aside while Valerie waited on him and exchanged brief chitchat.