Murder at Fire Bay (31 page)

On the way to the office, I noted one case was empty. I motioned to Sam. He strode over to me.
 

“Where’s Martha?” I asked.

“She said she wasn’t feeling well so I sent her home.”

“Really,” I said. “Hmm . . . well, carry on. If you need me, I’ll be in the office, okay? Oh, yeah, I know this is not in the job description, but would you mind putting some cups of coffee on a tray and bringing it to the office?”

Sam nodded and moved off. He was a good man. I was going to miss him. I hurried on to the office where Jeanette and Emily were already seated. The Boss, hands behind his back was pacing the floor.

“Oh, there you are, Bronski. For a minute there, I thought you had taken off on some wild adventure. By the way, I understand you are going to Ireland on vacation?”

I raised not an eyebrow. I simply looked at Jeanette, who was again studying her fingernails.

“Yes, sir, we have talked about it.”

The Boss smiled and nodded. He understood this was Jeanette’s way of getting me out of town for a while. “Now Bronski, start talking. I can give you an hour and no more.”
 

He fished in his shirt pocket for another cigar. Finding none, he got a helpless look on his face. I almost smiled, except this was the Holy Grail to the Boss, and you don’t smile at your boss’s pet vice.”

“Here you are, sir.”
 

It was Jeanette who held up a cigar, still in its wrapper. Had my eyes not been attached, they would have fallen on the floor.
 

The Boss beamed. “Bronski, you sure know how to pick’em. I predict a fine future for Jeanette in the Postal Service. Now, talk.”

And I did. I started from the first day I pulled into the parking lot and went from there. Occasionally I received a reminder from Emily or Jeanette about dates, but my narration of the events was moving along well. By this time the Boss had lit up despite all sorts of postal regs and was sitting with his eyes closed. From experience, I knew he wasn’t sleeping. When I got to the part about Ashley and the picture of her leaning over me, I cast an anxious glance at Jeanette. She just gave me a small smile of encouragement, and I knew everything was okay. The Boss opened his eyes.

“Yes, yes, go on, Bronski, hard as it is. By the way, Ms. Jems, I’d appreciate it if you left the picture part out.”

Her eyes watering, she nodded and coughed.
 

The Boss smiled at me and winked. “Go on, Bronski.”

It was at that moment I heard what sounded like a shot and people yelling. The Boss gave me a look, dropped his cigar onto the carpet, stood up, and very coolly said, “Ms. Jems, will you kindly take the door to the lobby and call the cops?”

Without a word, the Princess disappeared out the lobby door, closing it softly behind her. By then I had leaped to my feet. Jeanette stood next to me. After a moment without any more noise, I started for the door.
 

The Boss touched me on the arm. “No, Leo, remember Nam? When it gets quiet something’s wrong. Let whoever it is come to us. Maybe the cops will get here in time.”

I turned to look at him. I was back in Nam with him. I was the private and he was the sergeant. The girl was starting to run toward me from across the clearing.

“Sarge! The damn chopper! It’ll cut her to pieces!”

“Easy, Leo!”

I felt his hand restraining me as the door burst open. I shook my head. Chopper? Wait a minute! There was no chopper. I wasn’t in Nam! That was a long time ago. I was in my office with Jeanette by my side.

Martha stood there with that big Glock handgun pointed at me.
 

“My, oh my, what do we have here but a whole nest of managers.”

She shook her head in sadness. “I wanted to get along with you, but you don’t care.” Then she looked at me. “Not really, do you, Mr. Bronski?”

I swallowed as I looked down the barrel of that thing.

“I do care, Martha. I’ve only been here a month. Give us time. Things have improved. You’re not working as many hours. That’s worth something, isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “Not enough, Bronski, not nearly enough. I thought you were going to be different from the rest of the vipers. But you weren’t; I still had to go to step-three on that last grievance.”

The Boss spoke. “No matter how bad we are, we aren’t worth the trouble you’ll have if you shoot us. Put the gun down, and we’ll work something out, I promise you.”

A tear dropped down Martha’s cheek. “Oh it’s too late, don’t you see? Too late. Now, shut up!”

Out on the main floor a woman screamed, “Sam’s been shot!”

Jeanette moved closer to me at those words. Martha was truly out to settle old scores. She seemed not to be bothered by the scream. Her face now took on a determined look.

“You were just like her,” she said.

“Like who?” I said softly.

“Gloria.”

“Is that why you killed her?” I asked.

Martha smiled and looked to one side, lost in her remembering. “You thought you were so clever taking those pictures, Bronski. I guessed something was going on when you talked about your scrapbook. No manager cares that much.”

“My Leo does!”

“So, little lady, you can talk. I thought you might be Leo’s wife. Sorry, honey, about all this. You see, your Leo doesn’t know the half of what’s going on around here. It is all about the drugs. Gloria wanted a bigger cut to keep her mouth shut. The guys in Florida did not like that, so overboard Gloria went. Then they sent Ashley.”

“Who, Martha? Who sent Ashley?” I asked.

She laughed. “Don’t you see, Bronski? That’s the beauty of the organization.”

The color of black came slowly into my side view.

“You shot my Sam.”
 

It was the Princess with her .25 caliber pistol held on Martha.

Martha snorted. “Don’t worry, honey. There’s more where he came from.”

Emily fired a split second before Martha’s gun went off. Martha missed me, and in a reflex motion, I dropped to my knees.
 

Jeanette dropped too, first against the desk and then slowly to the floor. She lay there in front of the desk, eyes half closed, a circle of blood blooming on her chest. Her mouth moved, but I heard nothing.
 

Enraged, I jumped to my feet and charged Martha, who by now was holding her gun arm, dripping with blood, with her good hand. It made no difference to me. I slugged her in the nose. More blood splattered the place.

The Boss grabbed me from behind. “Leo, Leo! Take it easy!”

“They killed her, Sarge, they killed her!”

From somewhere I heard, “Here, officer! Help me hold him! He thinks he’s back in Vietnam!”

Another man’s voice. “You want me to cuff him?”

“I’m afraid you have to! He’s out of his head! Leo!” I heard Sarge cry, “Come back! It will be okay; you’ll see! Jeanette’s still alive! There is a place for you in this world! I promise!”

What the hell was Sarge talking about? Come back where? Vietnam was where I belonged. I looked up at him kneeling down beside me, his chinstrap dangling from his helmet.

“Sarge? Sarge?”

Epilogue

The old man struggled his way up the path to the cliff face to his beloved bench. From time to time, he paused to look at the beautiful wild roses growing along the path. And, as always, he marveled at their being there. Why did God ordain they be there? Had someone planted them? Well, never mind, and he stabbed at the ground with his cane. The doctors said it would be all right for him to get out of the house. But he knew his daughter was anxiously watching from the kitchen window, hiding back in the shadows. At last, he made the bench, and sat down with a resounding, “Ah . . . ”

He looked out over his domain. The bay was like a millpond and even though it was early fall it was warm there on the bench. After a while, he dozed, half aware that if his head flopped over too far, his daughter would be up the path to see if everything was all right. As he awoke from one of his small naps, he heard footfalls coming up behind him. For goodness sakes! She didn’t need to come! He was all right! Just as he got ready to tell his daughter he was doing fine, a strange voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Arness? It’s me, Emily.”

She came up beside him. “May I sit down?”

“Please . . . please, do,” he stuttered.

“I haven’t seen you for quite a while, so I decided to come today.”

Ha, he thought, it’s been at least six months! Quite awhile indeed! But he was grateful she was there, and out of politeness he would not say anything.

“Today is an anniversary of sorts, remember?” she said, smoothing her dress over her stomach as she sat.

“Yes,” he said. “You mean it’s been a year since the killing out on the bay?”

She nodded. “I thought you might like to know Bronski is getting out of the VA hospital today. He called me yesterday. He seemed cheerful, I guess. As cheerful as anyone could be. He said that thanks to drugs, doctors, Jeanette, and his boss, he had finally gotten out of Vietnam.”
 

“What will he do now?” Arness asked.

“He said he is going to pick up the pieces of his life and move on. I think he will go back to the town out in Western Alaska, where his wife is from. He said there was a priest out there who seems to have a firm grip on life. Besides, small towns offer a more ordered life, don’t you think?”

The old man nodded and smiled. She smoothed her dress over her stomach once again. Something told him there was going to be new life to replace the old and that perhaps that was the real reason she was here. To announce this replacement for countless others who had passed on, or were about to pass.
 

He decided to stretch her visit out a bit. “And how is Sam?”

“Oh Sam is fine! Getting shot in the side hasn’t slowed him up one bit. He is awful busy down at the post office. He is such a hard worker. I worry about him. He’s already put in for a post office in Anchorage. The Anchorage Daily News says I can have a job there if I want it.”

The old man didn’t answer her but stared out to sea. Finally, to break the silence, she said, “I finished my manuscript yesterday. The rough draft that is. It’s about the drug scene here in small-town Alaska. It probably won’t sell very well in the lower-48, but I felt it had to be written, maybe as a tribute to the local people who have died because of drugs. But I couldn’t crack the upper management levels of the Postal Service. If any of them are involved in the drug scene, well, I’ll never find out. They are a closed-mouthed bunch. But I wanted to get it done before the . . . ”

“Baby came?” Arness asked, completing her statement.

Emily smoothed her hair back over her ear and blushed. “You noticed?”

He smiled and regarded her a few seconds, deciding not to laugh out loud.

“Yes, Princess, I noticed.”

She looked at him sharply. “That’s what Bronski used to call me. He saved me from myself, you know.”

The old man nodded.
You’re not the only one
.
 

Emily got up from the bench. “Well, I must go. Behave yourself, Arness.”

He turned in his seat and watched as she swung her way down the path. So full of vibrant energy.

Suddenly he called. “Come again, Princess, and show me your son.”

She stopped, turned, cocked her head, and then nodded with a smile. She waved, and continued on down the path.

He shifted on the bench to look again at the bay, and to ponder why he had just told the Princess she would have a son. Probably just a slip of the tongue. The wind had picked up, and the bay was now covered with endless white caps—its time of grace over with. The beauty of the place overwhelmed him and he felt at peace. He sighed and said aloud, “Yes, God, if you were to call me now, it would be the happiest moment of my life.”
 

His head turned to one side, as if listening. A tear ran down his face.
Yes . . .yes!

His head fell slowly forward onto his chest and his arms relaxed at his sides, his hands opened as if in supplication. From the house, his daughter called.

“Daddy . . . Daddy?”

– THE END –