The Alpine Yeoman (39 page)

I opened my laptop and wrote the story about Sam’s role in breaking up the hooker ring. I’d clear it with Milo, of course, though I knew it would come as a surprise to him. I called Kip to tell him we’d have late-breaking news. If there wasn’t room on the front page, he could squeeze in a box directing readers to wherever he could place the article.

Dealing with Roger’s arrest was heart-wrenching. For openers, I didn’t know what charges were being brought against him. I reminded myself what journalists do: write up the facts, fill in the blanks, get confirmation, and ignore personal feelings. As I tapped away, I felt like I was on autopilot. Roger was a perp, Vida played no role in the story, and I was an instrument of communication.

When I phoned Kip to say I’d finished the story, he asked what it was about. I told him he’d find out when I zapped it to him. He sounded puzzled, but somehow I couldn’t give voice to Roger’s treachery. Kip had his hands full. He had no time for guessing games.

Half an hour later Milo finally arrived, just after eight-thirty.

“Just hand me the freaking bottle of Scotch and don’t ask any questions,” my beloved moaned as he came through the front door. “Jesus, but I’m beat!”

I didn’t demand a kiss, just got out the Scotch and thrust it at him. He looked surprised. “You really aren’t going to say anything?”

I shook my head.

Milo set the bottle on the counter and took me in his arms.
“God, Emma, what would I do without you? Everybody else is nuts.”

I merely looked up at him and smiled. His kiss was hard but brief. “Hey,” he said after releasing me. “You can say
something
.”

“Dinner’s ready when you are. Go change. I’ll make your drink.”

“Okay.” He mussed my hair and left the kitchen. I turned the lasagna down to the oven’s lowest setting. It was done and would stay hot until Milo was ready to eat.

When he came into the living room, where I was on the sofa, I asked where Tanya was.

“As crazy as it sounds,” he replied after taking a deep drink from the Scotch I’d put next to the easy chair, “she went to the Hibberts’ house with Bill. I guess he needed backup handling his aunt Vida.”

To heck with filling in the gaps on the news story. I asked the question that was my personal priority: “How is Vida?”

Milo grimaced. “Shell-shocked. That’s the best way I can put it. By the time I showed up, she was just sitting and staring off into space.”

“Did you try to talk to her?”

“Not really.” Milo paused to drink some Scotch. “I went over to her when I first got there and put my hand on her shoulder. I told her I was sorry. She didn’t say anything. Tanya had talked to her earlier. I guess she was in denial at first, saying somebody set Roger up.”

“Yes, that’d be her first reaction.” We both sat in silence for a few moments. Then I asked what charges had been brought against Roger. “I do have a deadline, you know,” I added.

“That was a tough one,” Milo replied, scowling. “Without more proof, I could only charge him with two counts of contributing to the delinquency of a minor—the Ellison and Johnson
girls. I tossed in an attempted try with Ainsley. It’s enough to keep him locked up until we get the rest of the information from the state tomorrow. Then we’ll go for the vice and conspiracy charges. The dumb prick’s in deep. Of course, the state will go after the Party Animals outfit, too.”

“That’s enough for me to give Kip,” I said. “I just wish Vida had kept her eyes open after the trailer park disaster.”

“Even if she had, there was probably no way she could’ve stopped Roger from getting involved in this lash-up. As his parents, Amy and Ted are more to blame than Vida. They’re a couple of washouts.”

I nodded vaguely. Vida had dominated all of her daughters. She was so strong in so many ways, yet she seemed to have produced weaklings among her own offspring. “Sam was here,” I finally said.

Milo almost dropped the cigarette he’d been lighting. “No shit! What the hell was that all about?”

“He thought you were home. He had something to tell you.” As Milo listened without interruption, I tried to recount Sam’s story word for word. I concluded by saying he’d be back on the job tomorrow.

“Good God,” my husband murmured. “So Sam wasn’t having a breakdown, but was freelancing. I can hardly believe it. In fact, I can’t believe a lot of what’s happened in the last few days.”

“I don’t think it’s all sunk in with me. I wonder if Vida will come to work tomorrow. Maybe she’ll spend the night with Amy and Ted.”

“Vida’s tough,” Milo asserted. “The only thing that means as much to her as Roger is her job. My money’s on her to show up tomorrow. When do we eat? I’m about to pass out from hunger.”

“Now,” I said, getting off the sofa. “It’s leftovers.”

“What?” he exclaimed, following me out to the kitchen.

“It’s lasagna. I, unlike Vida, have some talent around a stove.”

“And other places,” he said, grabbing my rear as I leaned over to remove the baking dish from the oven. “Food comes first. If I regain my strength, maybe we can have dessert later.”

As we lay in bed that night while Milo read a Vince Flynn thriller and I worked a crossword puzzle, I realized I was stumped in the bottom right-hand corner. “The clue is ‘sheriff’s assistant,’ ” I said. “It’s six letters, but it’s not ‘deputy,’ because the clue going down is ‘Bizet opera.’ That has to be
Carmen
, which ends in an
n
.”

“Work it out the other way,” he advised, obviously caught up in whatever action-packed scene he was reading.

I put in “stay” for canine command, making the first letter of the unfinished word a
y
, followed by an
e
at the end of “ease.” Picking up my crossword thesaurus, I figured it wouldn’t take long to scan words that began with
y
followed by
e
. “Ha!” I exclaimed. “I’m done. It’s
yeoman
, sheriff’s underling, and, as an adjective, meaning staunch, sturdy, and loyal.”

Milo looked up from his book. “Six letters? Too bad it’s not seven. You could have put in ‘Heppner.’ ”

The Alpine Advocate
The Alpine Betrayal
The Alpine Christmas
The Alpine Decoy
The Alpine Escape
The Alpine Fury
The Alpine Gamble
The Alpine Hero
The Alpine Icon
The Alpine Journey
The Alpine Kindred
The Alpine Legacy
The Alpine Menace
The Alpine Nemesis
The Alpine Obituary
The Alpine Pursuit
The Alpine Quilt
The Alpine Recluse
The Alpine Scandal
The Alpine Traitor
The Alpine Uproar
The Alpine Vengeance
The Alpine Winter
The Alpine Xanadu
The Alpine Yeoman

M
ARY
R
ICHARDSON
D
AHEIM
started spinning stories before she could spell. Daheim has been a journalist, an editor, a public relations consultant, and a freelance writer, but fiction was always her medium of choice. In 1982, she launched a career that is now distinguished by sixty novels. In 2000, she won the Literary Achievement Award from the Pacific Northwest Writers Association. In October 2008, she was inducted into the University of Washington Communication Hall of Fame. Daheim lives in her hometown of Seattle and is a direct descendant of former residents of the real Alpine, which existed as a logging town from 1910 to 1929, when it was abandoned after the mill was closed. The Alpine/Emma Lord series has created interest in the site, which was named a Washington State ghost town in July 2011. An organization called The Alpine Advocates has been formed to preserve what remains of the town as a historic site.

www.marydaheimauthor.com