The Deadly Art of Love and Murder Page 4

  “I don’t think you should care so much what other people think. Trust your own judgment.”

  I pushed back my chair and gathered the dishes. “I’d better let you get back to work. I’m going to help Dad and Bent upstairs.”

  “I can help.” Dan got up but I waved him off.

  “We’ve got it covered.”

  Dan opened his mouth to say something, then turned away. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  I took the dishes into the kitchen and tucked them into the industrial dishwasher. I turned it on, shut off the lights and followed the sound of hammers and saws. Dad and Bent were hard at work framing up the new space. “It’s beginning to look like a bedroom.”

  “That’s not good since it’s the bathroom we’re framing,” Dad said, shaking his hammer at me.

  “What’d Dan have to say?” asked Bent, looking up from the board he was cutting.

  “Not much.”

  “Why is your face so red?”

  “What are you, twelve?” I grabbed a hammer. “What can I help you with, Dad?”

  “You could call Frank and see if he’s got the next load ready.” He gestured toward a depleted pile of lumber.

  I pulled out my cell and walked over to the window, where the signal would be stronger. “Dad asked me to check on your ETA.”

  Frank swore under his breath. “I can bring him a truckload today to tide him over if he’s out already.”

  “He will be by the time you get here. What’s wrong?”

  There was a long silence. “Let me get the truck loaded. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I relayed the message to Dad and Bent, who looked at each other for a long moment before resuming work. “What am I missing?”

  “Jack.”

  “Gotta be,” agreed Bent.

  “You mean he’s drinking again? That’s what Mom told me.” I picked up my hammer and went to help Dad with the wall he was working on.

  “Terrible thing, seeing a man throw his life away.”

  “I thought it would help, me starting the residency to honor Johnny.”

  “Takes something out of a man to bury his son.”

  “Jack was a drinker long before Johnny died,” said Bent.

  We worked without further discussion until we ran out of wood. When we hung up our hammers, Dad and I trooped downstairs to wait for Frank, and Bent went to check on Mel. Mom joined us in the dining kitchen, where Dad and I were digging into leftover apple pie. “Last pie of the season, Marcie. Pull up a chair and I’ll cut you a piece.”

  “How’s Mel?” I asked as Mom sat down. Her face was grim.

  “Still throwing up. Thank you, Robert. I have a call into rural health. Gabby thinks she may need to go to Juneau.”

  I dropped my fork. Little fingers of fear crept into me. Having a baby was supposed to be the most natural thing a woman could do. “Bent said Gabby told him she was fine.”

  “She didn’t want to worry him. We’ve been hoping it would pass.”

  “She’s going to be all right, though?”

  Mom’s voice was reassuring. “Of course. She just needs to get the nausea under control and I’m concerned about her becoming dehydrated. If we had a doctor here, it would be different.”

  “Clem’s trying, Marcie.”

  “He’s not trying hard enough. Cara could have died from pneumonia and Melody should be able to go three blocks to the clinic and get whatever she needs, not risk her life going all the way to Juneau.”

  “You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think Marcie?”

  Mom got up and started pacing, her anxiety making me more nervous by the minute. “What if she has to stay in Juneau until the baby comes? Away from her everyone she loves. Robert, it’s just not right.”

  “I thought the new building was supposed to finally land us a doctor.” There had been no doctor in Coho Bay since Doc died, despite my mother’s constant nagging. Once the cruise ship money started flowing, she had persuaded them to build a clinic but they’d drawn the line at offering financial incentives. Now we have a lovely, but empty, clinic but the battle to build it had been so heated, nobody wanted to revisit incentivizing a doctor.

  Mom spun around and her words came out in rapid fire. “They expect someone to come all the way out here for nothing more than tuition forgiveness from the state. I keep telling Solokov, he has to sweeten the pot. We’re competing against every other rural community in Alaska.”

  My father had heard her arguments many times. “If they found someone who was interested, I’m sure Clem would negotiate.”

  “How can you negotiate when nobody will even look twice? I’ve got a good mind to run against that idiot when he comes up for re-election.”

  I put down the fork I’d just picked up. “Nobody’s ever run against Mayor Solokov.”

  “Then it’s high time somebody did.”

  “But he’s been mayor as long as I can remember.”

  “Longer than we’ve lived here,” supplied my father.

  “Yes, and his father was mayor before him, but this is a democracy not a fiefdom. I say, break the back of the good old boy network if it’s not going to put the needs of the citizens first!”

  My father and I sat staring at each other in stunned silence. When she put her mind to something, my mother was an irresistible force and I wouldn’t want to be an immovable object in her path. I wasn’t sure she would actually run against Solokov, and if she did, I had no idea whether anyone would break tradition and vote for her, but by the fire in her eyes, I wouldn’t bet against her.

  MOM HAD GONE BACK UPSTAIRS to sit with Mel by the time Frank arrived. I put on my coat and went out to help him haul it in while Dad went upstairs to decide where to put the boards since we needed to frame out the area where they’d piled the first load. Frank was loosening the straps that bound the wood to the trailer when I made it outside. What was it about him that made my blood pressure soar every time I saw him? His good looks were hidden under a layer of sawdust and sweat which coated his hair, face, coat and jeans but he still had the same effect on me.

  I took a deep breath to settle myself. “What happened to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You look like you took a sawdust bath.” I grabbed the latch on one of the straps and started working it free.

  Frank looked down at his soiled clothes and brushed at his coat. Since his gloves were wet from the snow on the tarp that covered the wood, the result was more comedic than clean. “You try cutting a tree into board feet and see how you look.”

  He reached for my hand but I pulled away. My mind didn’t want to be covered in sawdust but my rebellious body didn’t care. “We have to get this wood inside before it gets soaked.”

  “It’ll dry.” Like the romance novel hero I’d always pictured him, Frank had a huskiness in his voice that sent the world into slow motion. He bent to kiss me and the scent of rugged lumberman filled my senses. Lumber. Sawdust. I jerked away from him and sneezed. And sneezed and sneezed!

  The romantic mood was shattered, but I wasn’t the one laughing. Bent’s booming laughter and raucous applause brought me resoundingly back down to earth. Frank stood beside the trailer, no longer looking like a romantic hero, and not only was he not laughing, he looked annoyed. Maybe it was Bent who exasperated him and not my reaction to his kiss.

  “You two want to be alone?” Bent asked as soon as he could talk.

  I resumed my fight with the strap. “I won’t remind you how sappy you and Mel can be.”

  Bent pulled off my hat and ruffled my hair. “Love is a many splendored thing, little sister.”

  I couldn’t correct Bent without hurting Frank so I said nothing. I kept my eyes on the strap and my thoughts on the job at hand. My pulse was still racing but I was able to blame it on climbing a steep flight of stairs carrying a stack of ten foot two-by-fours. Bent and Frank maneuvered their loads single-handedly but mine bounced on the hand rail, bringing my
dad down to take one end and help me wrestle it the rest of the way up the stairs.

  Mel was sitting by the window on the far side of the unfinished space, looking a little livelier. By the time we finished, the four of us collapsed in a heap at her feet. Bent leaned back against her legs while Dad and I propped each other up and Frank slouched against the cold outer wall. Mom had gone down to “rustle up a little something” which I hoped meant raiding leftovers and not trying to cook. My mother was a biologist with a brilliant scientific mind but it didn’t translate well to the kitchen.

  “It’s going to be beautiful, Dad,” said Mel. “Have you got enough lumber now?”

  “One way to know for sure, eh Bent?” He pushed himself onto his feet and ambled over to what would be my bedroom first, but would eventually become the baby’s room. Bent followed, dropping a kiss on Mel’s face and patting the top of my head. Frank gave me a long look, then joined Dad and Bent.

  “Looks like somebody’s been getting a little action.” Mel kept her voice low so the men wouldn’t hear.

  My cheeks burned. Someday, I needed to learn how to control that reaction. It was bad enough having beet red hair without my face burning too. “I’m sorry you’ve been so sick.”

  “Mother’s getting worried but Gabby’s telling me it’s nothing serious. I swear, I thought they were going to punch each other out over it.”

  “Must be hard on Gabby being the only person in town with any medical training.”

  “Don’t you start. Mother’s bad enough. It hurts Gabby’s feelings.”

  “It shouldn’t. We do need a doctor and not because Gabby isn’t good at what she does. She brought me into the world, after all. Doc always said she was better at babies than he’d ever be.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “No I wasn’t. I was talking about morning sickness.”

  “I was talking about Frank. And Dan. Cara, you can’t keep playing them against each other. It isn’t fair.”

  “What do you mean? I’m not officially dating either of them. Frank’s been working and Dan...”

  “Dan’s been eating every meal here.”

  “You can’t pin that on me. Dan’s been eating every meal here since you opened. I don’t think he can cook.”

  Mel huffed and stared out the window. “The way Mother makes it sound––”

  “You’ve been talking about me with Mom?” I interrupted her.

  “She’s been doing most of the talking. I’ve been puking my guts out. I should warn you, she’s rooting for Frank.”

  “Why Frank?”

  “She thinks Dan’s too old for you. She has a point, Cara. Thirteen years is a long time.”

  “How did you know Dan’s age but I didn’t? How old is Frank?”

  “I’m not sure, but younger than Dan.”

  “He’s an outsider.”

  “I know. You’d think that would be a strike against him but she thinks there’s something shady about Dan.”

  I laughed, drawing the attention of the men on the other side of the room. I waved and they went back to work. “Dan’s a cop. He’s been a cop all his life. It’s all he’s ever wanted to do, just like his uncle. There’s nothing shady about Dan.”

  Mel looked sharply at me. “If you like Dan so much, why are you stringing Frank along?”

  I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. “I’m not stringing anybody along. I like Frank too.”

  “You can’t have both of them.”

  “Mel, I don’t have either of them yet. They both seem interested, but nobody’s come out and said anything. Besides, why do I have to choose right now? I’ve gone my whole life with guys not giving me a second look and now that I’ve suddenly got two eligible, decent-looking, employed men showing an interest in me, why do I have to choose?”

  Mel nudged me to turn my back to her and began to braid my hair. I watched the men working, warm enough now that they’d shed their coats. Bent was all muscle in a compact package and I wondered, not for the first time, what he’d done in the Navy besides cook. Frank was tall and lean with fluid movements that almost made up for his obvious lack of building knowledge. My father was taller than both of them. I’d gotten my height from him, while Mel had inherited our mother’s beauty. I squinted, trying to replace Frank with Dan in my mind and wondering which man would declare himself first. Or would I manage to scare both of them away, as I had the few other man I’d dated.

  Thinking about Dan brought the thought of Mrs. Nash’s lifeless body sweeping over me in a cold wave. I screwed my eyes shut and shook my head, trying to clear that image from my mind. “What’s wrong, Cara?” Mel asked as she struggled to recapture my hair.

  “I can’t stop seeing her.” I buried my head against my knees again but she was still there, faceless, frozen, frightening.

  Mel put her head against mine. Her hands were gentle on my shoulders, radiating compassion. “I’m sorry, Cara,” she whispered.

  I sniffed, fighting the urge to cry. “It makes me sad to think how little I really knew about her. What was she like when she wasn’t in Coho Bay? Dan says the Flagstaff police haven’t found any family yet. They have to put an ad in the paper, like she was a lost dog or something.”

  “If she had any children, I never heard her talk about them. My baby isn’t even born yet, and you can’t get me to shut up about her.”

  “Her? How do you know it’s a girl?”

  “I don’t. Bent and I have a bet. If it’s a boy, he gets to pick the name but I get to name a girl.”

  “What if he picks a terrible name?”

  “Like what?”

  “Bentley Junior.”

  Mel laughed. “Bent’s already a junior. Our baby would be the third.”

  “B-three? Yeah, you’d better hope it’s a girl.”

  “I only care that the baby is healthy.” She patted her belly. “Nothing else matters.”

  “What name did you pick out?”

  “You’ll find out as soon as we have a girl.”

  “How many kids do you want to have?”

  Mel didn’t answer. “Does Dan have any idea who killed her?”

  “He thinks it’s probably suicide.”

  “But he called in the state. He must think there’s something fishy about it.”

  “He hasn’t got a lot of experience investigating suspicious deaths and wanted a second opinion. I guess he didn’t think that would be a good enough reason get the mayor to spend the money.”

  “You’d think it was Clem’s money, the way he holds onto it. Why would Mrs. Nash kill herself?”

  I had no chance to answer. Dad put down his hammer and called over to us. “I hear Marcie ringing the dinner bell. Let’s go see what she found.”

  He headed toward the steps. Bent put his arm around Mel, who’d risen from her chair and Frank put out a hand to me. He pulled me to my feet, bringing my face uncomfortably close to his. My nose started to tickle again from the sawdust and I pulled away. “I’m starved,” I mumbled and ducked around Mel and Bent, who were moving more slowly. I was rarely hungry enough to eat my mother’s cooking, but right now it seemed the lesser of two evils.

  Chapter 3

  “You’re not gonna believe it.”

  I looked up from the book I was reading as Dan slid onto a chair across the table from me. I was taking a break from the construction and since Mel’s was closed, I had my feet up on the chair beside me and was hip-deep in one of my favorite Agatha Christie novels. “I’m sorry,” I said, forcibly pulling myself out of St. Mary Mead and staring at him blackly. “What won’t I believe?”

  “Got any more of those?” He gestured at the cinnamon roll, half-eaten on my plate.

  I slipped in a bookmark. “It’s a couple of days old. Mel doesn’t bake much in the off season.”

  He was looking at the book when I put the plate down. “You didn’t like the ones I sent over while you were sick?”

  “
I finished them.”

  “All of them? There must have been fifteen books.”

  “Your point being? What won’t I believe?”

  He shook his head and picked up a fork. “I’m not taking Mrs. Nash’s body home to Arizona.”

  “You were going to take her home personally? Did the mayor know about this?”

  “Clem’s not a bad guy. I just didn’t like the idea of her going back in a cargo hold like somebody’s lost luggage.”

  “That’s sweet. What made you change your mind?”

  “She didn’t want to go.”

  “She told you that? You’re speaking to the dead now?”

  He smiled, enjoying himself. “Only the near dead. I had a call from her lawyer this morning.”

  “She had a lawyer?”

  “Who had a lawyer? Hello, Daniel. You two won’t mind if I join you.”

  I put my hand on my heart. “Sheesh, Mom, make some noise when you sneak up on people. I coulda had a heart attack.”

  “You’re far too young for that, Caribou.” She pushed my feet off the chair and sat down next to me, putting her tea cup on the table in front of her. “Go on. Who had a lawyer?”

  “Mrs. Nash. Dan said she doesn’t want to go back to Arizona.”

  My mother raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Seems she wanted to be buried right here in Coho Bay.”

  “Then it had to be suicide, if she left instructions like that for her attorney.” I pushed my half-eaten cinnamon roll away. I didn’t like thinking that someone I’d liked had chosen to die.

  My mother pulled over my plate and grabbed a fork from an adjoining table. “I would think she left burial instructions in her will.”

  “Two points for the lady,” said Dan. “The lawyer called the local P.D. and they told him to call me.”

  “We’ll have a nice funeral for Mrs. Nash. When will they release her body, Daniel?”

  “She’s ready now. I just have to pick her up.” He looked at me. “Want to run me up to Juneau?”