The Alpine Xanadu (6 page)

The gray eyes narrowed at me. “You can’t possibly be serious.”

“Oh, but I am,” I said, standing up. “One final question—what kind of toothpaste do you use?”

Farrell didn’t answer right away. I didn’t think he would. By the time he uttered the single word “Crest,” I was halfway out the door.

The power was on by the time I got back to the office. In fact, it might’ve gone on while I was en route to RestHaven. Certainly there’d been no sign of outage or even dimmed lights at the facility.

“Whoa,” Leo said as I stomped into the newsroom, “you’re pissed.”

“I am,” I admitted. “I’m off to a crappy start with the RestHaven people. What’s worse is that when I drove away, Fleetwood was just arriving. Let’s check the hour turn at three to see if he beats us again.”

“RestHaven does advertise with KSKY—and us,” Leo pointed out.

“I know, I know,” I said, taking off my jacket. “I managed to blow it with Farrell, but the whole setup bothers me.”

Leo chuckled. “Maybe Ed’s aura lingers.”

“There’s not much of that left. They’ve done a good job of erasing the Bronsky imprint.” I sank into Leo’s visitor’s chair. “I’m going to pass the other interviews to Mitch. Where is he?”

“Doing the story on Blue Sky Dairy’s new equipment,” Leo said after lighting a cigarette. “Give him the job. He needs to stay busy.”

Vida entered from the back shop. “Well now! Was Wayne drunk?”

“I doubt it,” I said. “If he was a serious boozer, Milo would know, living just a few doors away.”

Vida had her hands on her hips. “Then what happened?”

I made a face. “You think the sheriff would tell me this early in
an investigation? We’re engaged—we don’t have a pact to administer truth serum to each other.”

“Can’t he bend a bit now that you’re going to be man and wife?”

“I give you two words—Milo Dodge. Think again.”

Vida sighed. “You’re right. Maybe my nephew Billy could be coaxed with some ice cream.”

Leo looked puzzled. “Isn’t Billy like thirty-five?”

Vida shot my ad manager a haughty look. “He still likes ice cream. Besides, he and his fiancée broke up on New Year’s Eve. Just as well. I preferred that he not take on a woman who already has a child.”

“You could’ve taken the child
and
Billy for ice cream,” Leo said in a serious tone.

“Hush, Leo,” Vida said, with less than her usual severity. “The outage was limited to the commercial area. Walt Hanson told Amanda they never lost power out at the fish hatchery—or at the college.”

I stood up. “Did Kip put the bare facts about Wayne online?”

“Yes,” Vida replied. “I was offering family background. As you recall, Emma, you once had a notion that Mel and Wayne were cousins. You know better by now. Oh!” She clapped a hand to her cheek. “Mitch is at Blue Sky Dairy. I wonder if Mel knows what happened to his brother?”

“He does if Mitch told him,” I said. “Were they close?”

“Well …” Vida tapped one foot. “Not very, but I don’t think there was any animosity between them.”

Leo grinned. “No typical Alpine a-feudin’ and a-fightin’?”

“Really, Leo,” Vida said in reproach, “you make us sound like hillbillies. At least we don’t go around constantly suing each other the way people do in Southern California.”

I left them to their argument, a sport they both seemed to enjoy. When the news came on at three, Spence’s only reference to RestHaven was that they hadn’t lost power. The hospital had gone
dark, but they had a backup generator. He also aired a brief bit on Wayne’s demise.

Mitch returned just after the broadcast. Mel had already heard from Cookie Eriks. His wife, April, had gone to comfort her sister-in-law. Mitch said Mel seemed more angry than upset. “He thought his brother may’ve done something stupid.”

“It’s possible,” I allowed. “But it’s dangerous work, especially in bad weather. He shouldn’t have been working outside in the first place.”

“Don’t say that to the county commissioners,” Mitch warned. “Want to bet Cookie doesn’t sue?”

“She has no spunk. And bear in mind that her daughter may be sleeping with one of said county commissioners.”

“That’s … incredible.” Mitch shook his head.

I not only gave him the other two interviews, but asked if he’d check with the sheriff for any late developments regarding Wayne’s death. Mitch gave me a curious look but didn’t ask any questions. I still sensed that he hadn’t quite figured out yet what was going on between his boss and SkyCo’s sheriff.

Which, of course, was what was uppermost in my mind. I was beginning to feel that Milo and I were ill-starred lovers. Since I first realized how much I loved him back in late November, we had now gone through two long separations. If the Eriks family was hexed, maybe we were, too.

There was no further news from headquarters, so I left at five to head for the Grocery Basket. Luckily, they had fresh Dungeness crab in the seafood case, though I winced at the price: $22.99 a pound. Darryl, the seafood manager, asked if I wanted smelling salts.

Two crabs and ninety dollars later, I had dinner for the sheriff and a rising sense of anticipation in my breast. All I had to do was make a salad, put the French garlic bread in the oven, and unwrap the crabs, which Darryl had cracked and cleaned for me.

Milo showed up at 5:40, still in uniform. “Got anything on the stove?” he asked.

“No. I only have to turn on—”

That was as far as I got. With words, anyway. Obviously,
we
didn’t need to be turned on. Forty-five minutes later, I rolled over onto Milo’s bare chest and kissed the small scar above his right eye.

“Oh, God, I can’t believe you’re here!” I pressed my face against his and clung to him as if my life depended on it.

“That makes two of us,” he said, one big hand caressing my back. “I had one hell of a time getting rid of Tricia and Tanya.”

I raised my head and rolled over slightly. “How did you do it?”

“By beating Tricia at her own game. I started by saying that maybe I shouldn’t have spent the money to send her and Tanya to Hawaii. Seeing all those happy couples on the beach might’ve caused a setback for Tanya. Maybe it was my fault for not thinking it through.”

“Devious,” I murmured, unaccustomed to Milo playing games. “It was her idea.”

“You don’t know Tricia,” Milo said after kissing the top of my head. “She’s never been wrong in her life. Her latest crazy idea was to put Tanya in RestHaven. I told her that was really smart. Then I mentioned that the shrink Tanya had been seeing in Bellevue couldn’t be much good or she wouldn’t have tried to kill herself. I knew damned well that Tricia had handpicked the guy. Of course she started defending Strudelblob or whatever his name is, and she decided he was still the one to save Tanya. They took off after Sung signed the release papers.”

I grinned at Milo. “You don’t feel kind of guilty?”

“For what? I didn’t do anything to create this whole mess. Last night Tricia and I searched her room to see if Tanya had any more pills. She didn’t. In fact, there were no pills at all. The Celexa came from a bottle that had been for a med prescribed by the Bellevue shrink. Tricia knew it’d just been refilled, so Tanya must’ve gotten
the Valium somewhere else. Maybe it backfired on her or she took both.”

“But,” I said, “shouldn’t she be closely supervised? Do you trust Tricia to do that?”

“I talked to Bran today. My son’s got more sense than Tricia and Tanya put together, though where he got it from, I’ll never know.”

I poked the sheriff in the chest. “How about from you, big guy? Even Vida admits you’re the only Dodge who has good sense.”

Milo made a face. “Maybe. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not sure I was totally fair with Tricia, but she was the one who walked. Or ran, given that she was so hot for Jake the Snake. Too bad she couldn’t see that while snakes might shed their skin, they don’t change their habits.”

“You did well with the situation. I’m unused to you being crafty.”

I felt him shrug. “I have to go that route with perps sometimes. Make them feel we’re wrong for busting them in the first place.”

I rolled over onto my back. “Hungry?”

“Not anymore,” Milo said, running his hand from my thigh to my chin. “But I wouldn’t mind eating some dinner. Maybe I’ll try putting the new bed together later on. Should we store your old one at my place, or are you still thinking about putting it in Adam’s old room?”

“I don’t know,” I hedged, reluctantly getting out of bed and wondering where my clothes had ended up between the front door and the bedroom. “The twin in that bedroom is small, my son is not, but that room’s crowded. Adam has most of his worldly goods stored in there. He has no extra space in his village rectory.”

“Maybe I can get together with Scott Melville over the weekend about putting on the addition,” Milo said. He yawned and stretched before getting to his feet. “And don’t argue. We can afford it.”

“I can’t,” I said. “Those crabs will keep me broke until I pay myself out of what’s left for my staff at the end of the month.”

“Damn it, Emma, don’t worry about it. I’m going to sell my house.”

“That may not happen right away. Besides, you told me you had to do some basic maintenance. And cleanup,” I added archly as I put on my good bathrobe. Even Milo had finally despaired over the ratty blue one I’d worn for most of my years in Alpine. Maybe that was because one of the sleeves fell off.

“Tricia thought the house looked pretty good, considering,” Milo said, now out of bed and getting dressed.

“No thanks to you,” I shot back. “You turned me into a household drudge while I was in your so-called protective custody. The only thing I refused to do was wash your damned windows.”

“Hey, I fed you,” he said, taking out a plaid shirt from the closet where he’d already stashed some of his clothes.

“I cooked,” I reminded him, seeing the clock on my bedside table. “Oh! It’s almost seven! I’ll make drinks while you turn on Vida’s show.”

I’d poured Milo’s Scotch and was reaching for my Canadian Club when the sheriff ambled out to the living room and turned on the radio. Spence’s recorded intro was just concluding. Vida began with an apology.

“Dear friends and neighbors, I know some of you expected me to host my nephew, Ross Blatt, the owner of Alpine Appliance & Repair, but alas, poor Ross came down with the flu this afternoon. Instead, I have another nephew, Ross’s brother, Ronnie Blatt, one of our fine volunteer firefighters when he’s not working his UPS job. Tell me, Ronnie, what’s the most unusual parcel you’ve ever delivered on your route?”

“A baby,” Ronnie said. “A ten-pound, two-ounce boy to the Vanderburts on Second Hill.”

“Good God,” Milo muttered. “That was five years ago.”

“Seven,” I said, sitting on the sofa across from where Milo had parked himself in the easy chair. “They moved not long after that.”

“It must be fascinating,” Vida went on, “to bring other bundles of joy to our listeners. Do tell us some of your other happy memories.”

“Well …” Ronnie paused. “Grace Grundle’s always excited when I deliver new cat toys for her menagerie. Averill Fairbanks was pretty pumped when I brought his new UFO-sighting glasses last month, though he complained about the cloudy weather. Oh, Coach Ridley was relieved when the new Bucker basketball uniforms arrived before the season started. Only problem was they were for girls, so he had to send them back. The high school doesn’t have a girls’ team except for P.E.”

“More’s the pity,” Vida said. “I heard the boys’ team did get theirs.”

I saw Milo holding his head and knew what was coming next.

“Right,” Ronnie replied, “but they were for fifth and sixth graders. Coach is still waiting.”

“A manufacturer’s problem,” Vida said. “Not buying locally, but that can’t always be helped. We have so many fine merchants in Alpine, and we’ll now let them tell you about their latest outstanding products.”

“Holy crap,” Milo said, shaking his head, “this is the worst bullshit Vida’s put on in months. Why doesn’t she ask Ron about his volunteer firefighting? He’s been doing that for longer than he’s worked for UPS.”

“You’re right. But if Ross cancelled, Vida didn’t have much notice.”

Milo took a quick swig of his drink before getting a pack of Marlboro Lights out of his shirt pocket. “You want one?”

“Please. You’re a bad influence, Dodge.”

“Come and get it. You can sit on my lap. That’ll make the rest of the show more tolerable.”

I obliged the sheriff, though I left my drink on the end table. The second half of
Cupboard
was no better than the first—except for
Ronnie’s final response to Vida’s query about how much he liked his job.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Good benefits, nice people, decent hours. But I’d really like to be a full-time firefighter. The county has only two regulars because they can’t afford to pay for more help. That’s a shame, and not just for me personally.”

“That’s a … remarkable statement,” Vida said, uncharacteristically taken aback. “Thank you, Ronnie. You’ve delivered food for thought.” She signed off, followed by the sound of the cupboard door closing.

“Good for Ronnie,” Milo said, squeezing my waist. “Doc Dewey and I get tired of being the only ones who bitch about lack of funds. Frankly, it’s galling to see all that money being poured into RestHaven. Sure, they’re spreading it around now in the remodeling part, but except for a couple of dozen jobs, the staff’s made up of outsiders.”

“Maybe Dr. Woo can inform us of other ways they’ll benefit Alpine,” I suggested. “He’s up next.”

“Screw Woo,” Milo said. “You know it’ll be a bunch of bullshit. Let’s eat. I just figured out that I’m starving.”

I scooted off his lap. I’d turned on the oven when the show had started. “I’ll put the bread in. Can you wait fifteen minutes?”

Milo had gotten out of the easy chair to shut off the radio. “Why can’t we start in on the crab—” He stopped. “What the hell? That Bree Whatzername announced ten uninterrupted minutes of Golden Oldies.”

“Bree Kendall,” I said, referring to Spence’s part-time DJ. “Woo must’ve cancelled.”

Milo turned the radio off. “I don’t like that.”