SIXTEEN

TANYA SPOKE FIRST. “SOMETHING’S HAPPENED TO DAD’S DEPUTY?”

Mitch grimaced. “I don’t know, but Gould’s reliable. Journalists think the worst because it makes bigger headlines.” He shrugged.

I was about to suggest that maybe Dwight had caught the rampant flu bug, but it wouldn’t explain what had happened to his cruiser.

Tanya stood up. “Is Dad back at his office?” she asked Mitch.

“I didn’t see him,” Mitch said. “I talked to Fong.”

“Maybe I should go down there,” she said, looking at me. “Do you think I’d cause more harm than good?”

“No,” I said, “but can you wait? I’ll walk partway with you. I want to stop by Parker’s Pharmacy, but I have to go over the autopsy report.”

“Sure. I’ll put these old issues back and talk to Mrs. Runkel.”

I thanked her and began scanning the report while Mitch stood by. “It’s a poisoning first for me,” I said. “Condense it and put it online.”

My reporter went off while I grabbed my purse and jacket. When I got to Vida’s desk, Tanya was being subjected to an account of Roger’s renewed interest in higher education. I interrupted before my House & Home editor could start in on a fantasy about her grandson sitting around a campfire singing “The Whiffenpoof Song” while sipping hot cocoa.

“Speaking of Roger,” I said to Vida in my most chipper voice, “Holly Gross has left town. If you want details, call Rosemary Bourgette.” Ignoring her aghast expression, I beckoned to Tanya to follow me out of the newsroom. I could hear Vida’s squawks all the way out the door.

“What was that about?” Tanya inquired.

I asked if her father had told her about Roger’s unfortunate saga. He had, but only the original version dating back to the trailer park incident. “Have him fill you in,” I said as we crossed Fourth and passed the hobby and toy shop. “Now I have to buy toothpaste and shampoo.” I didn’t add that except for his shaving gear, the sheriff hadn’t brought his own toiletries and I was running low on supplies.

Waving Tanya off, I almost collided with the pharmacy’s original owner, Durwood Parker. At least he was walking and not driving a car.

“Emma dear!” he exclaimed, his round pink face showing genuine pleasure. “I haven’t seen you in some time. Congratulations on your engagement to Sheriff Dodge.” He paused, tugging his kidskin gloves and grappling with the shopping bag that had been jostled in our near collision. “You two make a fine-looking couple. I don’t suppose you might sweet-talk him into letting me have my driver’s license back, would you?”

I feigned regret. “Probably not. He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. You are, after all, an institution around here.”

Durwood grimaced. “Sometimes I’ve felt that Milo thought I should be in an institution. But even when he had to arrest me, he was always kind about it. Speaking of institutions, I understand there’s a madman on the loose. I hope he doesn’t harm himself or anyone else. In fact, I’d better head home. I don’t like leaving Dot alone with … without me.” He gestured at a bicycle secured to a small rack by the hobby shop. “That’s what I’m driving these days. Take care, Emma.”

I thought it best not to wait to see if Milo was right about Durwood not riding a bike any better than he drove a car. But I did wonder why he’d stumbled over his words about Dot. I was even more curious why he had Pampers in his shopping bag. I’d noticed they were a toddler size.

Going into the pharmacy, I was disappointed to see that neither of the current owners, Garth or Tara Wesley, was on the premises. I’d intended to ask them about Durwood’s purchase. I didn’t know the young man who was behind the counter. He looked like a college student. I got what I needed and left, but noticed Milo’s Yukon now in its usual spot. I decided to pay the sheriff an official visit.

Dustin, Lori, Tanya, and Beth Rafferty, the 911 operator and Tim’s sister, stood at attention as Milo held court. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if somebody stabbed Blackwell,” he bellowed, ignoring my arrival. “The priority is Gould. The nut job is secondary. You all got that?”

They nodded, including Tanya. Beth was holding her earpiece in place. Maybe she was afraid Milo’s voice had shaken it loose. Lori seemed dazed, and even Dustin wasn’t quite his usual stolid self. The sheriff wheeled around and headed for his office.

“Hi,” I said to nobody in particular. “I guess I won’t bother your boss right now. Dare I ask what happened to Blackwell?”

Dustin rallied first. “It’s weird. You know about Patti Marsh’s accident, right?” He saw me nod. “She didn’t have to stay in the hospital, so she went home. Last night Blackwell came to see her. He was sick, so Patti thought he had the flu and told him she’d take care of him. By this afternoon he was delirious, so she called Doc Dewey and said that if she could manage it, she’d put him in her car to bring him to the clinic. Doc told her he’d have an ambulance sent, but no siren, because it might scare people who thought it had to do with the RestHaven escapee. They got to the hospital an hour ago and it turned out Jack had been stabbed. The wound festered because he hadn’t had it treated. Strange, huh?”

By the time Dustin finished, I’d leaned both elbows on the counter. “He didn’t stab himself to file another complaint?”

“In the back?” Dustin said. “That’d be hard to do.”

“Did he say who did it?” I asked.

The deputy shook his head. “He’s still out of it. He never mentioned it to Patti. She didn’t find out until Doc checked Jack.”

“Has your boss any ideas or is he too upset about Dwight to care?”

Before Dustin could answer, Beth Rafferty spoke up. “It’d be a help if somebody could find Tiff. I’ve taken half a dozen calls from fools who think they’ve spotted my lamebrained sister-in-law. They were all duds. What’s wrong with people?”

“Good question,” I murmured before gesturing at Milo’s closed door. “Dare I?”

“I wouldn’t,” Beth said, heading back to her 911 inner sanctum.

“He’s pretty grumpy,” Lori murmured.

“I think he’s on the phone,” Dustin said in his usual polite manner.

“Do it,” Tanya said, much to my surprise.

I smiled at her and opened the swinging door in the counter. “I will.” Marching to the door, I didn’t bother to knock.

Milo was hanging up the phone. “Beat it, Emma.”

I closed the door behind me. “I will not. This is my business, too.” I plopped down in a chair and set my drugstore purchases on the floor. “Mitch is on overload because he’s leaving for Pittsburgh tomorrow. I need some updates before I go home.”

“Jesus.” Milo put a hand to his forehead. “I don’t know any more than what you probably heard from that bunch out front. No sign of Gould, no sign of the lunatic, no idea how Blackwell got stabbed. That’s it. Go ahead, tell your readers the sheriff is baffled. I don’t give a damn.”

“Yes, you do.”

Milo’s hazel eyes finally met mine. He leaned back in the chair and sighed. “I was on the phone with Doc. Blackwell’s wound isn’t deep, but the dumb shit didn’t have it checked and it got infected. He’ll be fine.”

“Is he lucid?”

“Was he ever?”

“He’s always been lucid—for an asshole.”

I could always tell when the sheriff relaxed even slightly. “It’s Dwight that worries me,” he said. “You know him—dependable as snow on Baldy. It’s possible that he went after somebody on one of the old logging roads and had a wreck. The state patrol is bringing a helicopter to look for him and the nut. He doesn’t answer from the cruiser or his cell.” Milo glanced at his watch. “They should be overhead just after five.”

“Maybe I should stick around,” I said. “I mean, at my office.”

The sheriff shrugged. “You do your job, I’ll do mine.”

I stood up. “Then I’ll go away and stop bothering you.”

Milo was staring at his wall map of Skykomish County as if he were trying to figure out where Dwight might be found. “Okay,” he said.

I picked up the Parker’s Pharmacy bag and left, closing the door behind me. “I survived,” I announced, going through the reception area. “There were no injuries.”

I headed back to my office. I’d gone only about ten feet when a SkyCo cruiser pulled up. I gasped when Dwight Gould got out. He saw me, mumbled something, and walked calmly into headquarters. I froze in place, wondering if I should go back to see what kind of welcome he’d get. Deciding that was the worst idea I’d had since I’d let Ed Bronsky talk me into editing his autobiography, I kept on going to the Advocate.

It was ten to five when I reached the newsroom. Amanda was on the phone, Leo was coming from the back shop, and Mitch was at his desk. Vida was putting on her coat.

“I didn’t realize you’d gone shopping,” she said, looking at my Parker’s Pharmacy bag. “I’m leaving a bit early so I can prepare for the interview with Effie Trews. I haven’t chatted with her in some time.”

“Fine,” I said. “The prodigal deputy has returned.”

Vida’s jaw dropped, Mitch looked up from his monitor, and Leo stopped in mid-step before reaching his desk. They all responded in some way, but it was my House & Home editor’s voice that dominated. “Where on earth has that ninny been?” she shrieked.

I admitted I didn’t know. “He arrived in his cruiser and in uniform. I decided to skip the fireworks. The sheriff was already steamed.” I held up a hand to ward off a barrage from Vida. “Meanwhile, somebody stabbed Blackwell in the back. He’s in the hospital.”

More shrieks ensued from Vida, along with shocked expressions from my staff, which now included Kip and Amanda. I waited for everybody to shut up, though Vida was dialing her phone. “I should’ve known that Marje called me about something other than my eye exam reminder. She’s still at the clinic. It doesn’t close.… Marje, dear, I’m so sorry I was on the other line when …”

I backed away in order to be heard. “Mitch, go home. You’ve got to get ready for your trip. Leo, Amanda, feel free to do whatever, including leave for the day.” I turned to Kip. “I’m not sure what we can put online, but we should do something.”

“Can we say Gould’s safe?” he asked, looking justifiably confused.

“We never said he wasn’t,” I replied. “That was strictly internal. Milo would explode if we reveal a lost deputy while a head case is loose. As for Jack, let’s wait. He was too loopy to say anything coherent.”

Kip fingered his bearded chin. “Maybe Jack did have the flu and then Patti stabbed him.”

“Rethink that one,” I said. “Though with that pair, anything’s possible. We’ll hold off until Doc reports to Milo and we get a formal statement. That could take time if they wait for Jack to make sense.”

Amanda had already left. Mitch and Leo departed together. Vida had finished her call. “Well! A fine kettle of fish this is! Marje doesn’t know any more than you do, Emma. Now I must dash to prepare for my program.” She picked up her purse, but paused. “Maybe I should first call my nephew Billy.”

“He may still be in the middle of the Dwight Gould reprisal.”

“Fiddlesticks. Unless Milo is beating up his entire staff, Billy can still talk to his aunt.”

Feeling a headache coming on, I got two Excedrin out of my little pill case and grabbed some bottled water from under the coffee table. Kip returned to the back shop; I went into my office. I could still hear Vida talking—and listening. Bill Blatt must be on the other end of the line.

Three minutes later, she tromped into my office. “If that doesn’t beat all!” she exclaimed, the feather on her hat drooping over her forehead. I felt kind of droopy, too. “You won’t believe this,” she declared, flopping into a chair. “Dwight spent the afternoon with Kay Burns. He said if Milo could take the afternoon off to be with a woman, so could he, especially when he hadn’t seen her in almost thirty years.”

“D-D-Dwight was in b-b-bed with a w-w-woman?” I sputtered.

“Kay used to be his wife. I must assume the woman Milo was with was you. Did that happen when I was out of town for Christmas?”

I rubbed my forehead. “It was after he returned from nursing Tanya back to health. We were engaged. Well, almost engaged. But Dwight hasn’t seen Kay in three decades. I thought she had the flu.”

“Apparently she recovered,” Vida retorted. “I wonder if Milo will suspend him again. That doesn’t seem right, does it?”

“I don’t know what’s right anymore,” I admitted. “For all I know, Dwight stabbed Blackwell and then made off with Kay. They were both married to her. If that’s the case, Milo may give Dwight a medal.”

Vida turned thoughtful. “I don’t suppose I could use that in ‘Scene.’ Delicately phrased, of course.”

“Of course,” I murmured.

She bolted out of the chair. “I really must run. I’m ill prepared.”

I was still holding my head after Vida left. It could be a long time before we got official word about Jack. Kip and I might as well go home. I went into the back shop to tell him. I also related Dwight’s amorous defection. Kip couldn’t stop laughing. I tried to share his mirth, but I was dog-tired. Shortchanged on sleep, putting in a wild workday, and uncertain when I’d see Milo again, I drove home in the same befogged condition in which I’d arrived that morning.

It wasn’t until I got inside my little log house that I realized I was starving. I hadn’t eaten lunch. I’d also forgotten Vida had said that she was going to see Tanya after her program. I wondered if she still planned to do that, given that they had visited in the office. Searching the freezer, I found some tiger prawns. I thawed them in the microwave and started boiling water for udon noodles. After changing into my bathrobe, I realized the Excedrin was kicking in. I was munching raw carrots when the phone rang. It was my nice neighbor, Viv Marsden. “Emma,” she began, sounding tense, “have you seen anybody near your house?”

“Like who?” I asked.

“A man was in our backyard about ten minutes ago when Val took out the garbage. It was already dark, but he seemed to fit the description of that crazy person. He appears to be gone now, but I didn’t see Dodge’s car, so I thought you must be alone. Should we call the sheriff?”

I almost choked on another carrot. “Yes,” I gulped. “The Nelson house is still vacant on the other side of my place. He might be holed up in there. If it’s him, I mean.”

“I will,” Viv said. “Make sure your doors are locked.”

Just what I need, I thought, leaning back on the sofa. Mr. Paranoia showing up would be a fitting end to my day. Or the end of me. I got up to double-check the doors. They were secure, but I still felt nervous. My appetite had dwindled, though I kept eating. I needed my strength in case the latest menace broke a window to gain entry. Maybe I should get out the gun I kept in the closet. I’d never fired the thing and wasn’t sure if I had any bullets. Milo had told me if I ever tried to use it, I’d shoot myself instead.

I had started for the kitchen with my empty bowl when I heard someone call my name at the carport door. It didn’t sound like Milo. I paused by the sink, wondering if I should grab a knife. But whoever it was knew me. I moved cautiously and looked through the window. Jack Mullins looked back.

I opened the door. “Where’s Milo?” I asked.

“Up at the ranger station,” Jack said, taking off his hat and trying to tame his wild red hair. “Some guy in a snowmobile ran out of snow and hit a tree. The poor bastard’s been lying up there since four-thirty. His cell was dead and he’s damned lucky to be alive.”

“A local?” I asked.

“No. A local would know better. He’s from Kent. Where’s the nut?”

“I haven’t seen him. He might be at the Nelson house. It’s been empty since you guys arrested most of the family last December.”

“I’ll check it out. You got any coffee?”

“No, but I can make some.”

Jack shook his head. “Don’t bother. I should get going.”

“What happened with Dwight? I heard he was with Kay.”

Jack grinned. “Can you believe it? I can’t. I think he went fishing.”

“Dwight wouldn’t do that. I mean, not on the job, especially after he’d just been suspended.”

Jack sighed. “It’s more believable than Dwight making love to his ex-wife. But maybe he’s human after all. Dodge let him off the hook for now, if only because we need everybody aboard until the nut’s found. I wonder if the guy offed himself. I’d better go.”

“Hey—where’s Tanya? She could come here and stay with me instead of hanging out at headquarters.”

Jack gave me his puckish grin. “Bill Blatt offered to stay with her at Dodge’s house. Did you know he had a crush on her in high school?”

“You’re kidding!”

“He did. And his own romance blew up just a little while ago.”

“An interesting turn of events,” I remarked.

Jack put his hat back on. “If Tanya wants a guy who’s steady as a rock, that’s Bill. Keep yourself locked in, Emma.”

As soon as the deputy left, I looked at the clock on the stove. It was five to seven. I hurried into the living room to turn on the radio. The hour-turn news always came on at five minutes to when it was Vida’s night to howl. I caught all but the introduction—and realized that the voice I heard belonged not to Spence but to Bree Kendall, his part-time on-air person. She led off with the escapee still being at large, followed by the banged-up snowmobiler. I’d call Kip after Vida’s show to have him get an update from the hospital. There was nothing about Blackwell. The rest was a quick take on regional and national news with the weather forecast—partial clouds with a high of forty-six and a low of thirty-five. To my further surprise, Bree began to introduce Vida’s program. I wondered if Spence had fallen victim to the flu. The phone rang and I jumped, but quickly grabbed the receiver.

“All clear at the Nelsons’ house,” Jack Mullins said. “No sign of anybody trying to get in.”

I thanked him and rang off just as Vida wound up her usual greeting before talking about the decline of literacy and decrease in readership. “Subjects,” she said, “with which my guest is very familiar. Effie Trews has been the librarian at Alpine High School since 1965 and will be retiring in June. Effie, tell us why reading has declined in the …”

I drifted while Effie listed dry statistics. Vida pointed out the danger of ignorance and the pleasure of reading. Effie noted that books provided escape from the dreary everyday world. She sounded dreary, too. I missed Edna Mae’s bird-like chatter, even when she got rattled and referred to Charles Dickens as Slim Pickens and Elmore Leonard as Len Elmore. The commercial break was for Alpine Auto Supply and Swanson’s Toyota, both ads taped by Spence. When Vida returned, she asked Effie about the attempt to ban Tom Sawyer from the high school.

“That,” Effie declared, her voice suddenly springing to life, “was an insult to one of America’s greatest writers and to the intelligence of any age group, including teens. I’m opposed to all forms of censorship. Children grow up faster these days. Parents complain about smut on the Internet. If they really knew what their children read and see, their eyes would pop out. Some call it pornography, but that’s for the courts to decide. If you put a classic such as Tom Sawyer in the same category with what we sometimes find in student lockers, those foolish parents would think twice before making their silly protests.”

A slight pause ensued. I guessed Vida hadn’t expected such a heated response. “Do you mean there’s pornography at the high school?”

“I believe I just said that,” Effie huffed. “What I’d like to know is where it’s coming from. From what I’ve seen, it’s local.”

“You mean,” Vida asked, unable to keep the shock out of her voice, “someone in Alpine is distributing porn?”

“Yes. I recognized some of the subjects in the photos.”

“This is quite shocking,” Vida asserted, seemingly having regained her aplomb. “Has it been reported to the authorities?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Effie replied. “But it should be.”

“I agree,” Vida said. “Is Principal Freeman investigating?”

“You’d have to ask him. He’s opted for discretion among the faculty. I had no knowledge of this until shortly before Christmas break.”

I glanced at my watch. Vida was about to close her cupboard. “Effie,” she said, “you’ve not only pointed out the sad state of literacy along with the decline in reading, but revealed an alarming situation within the walls of our beloved high school. Congratulations on your long and tireless service to our youth. I wish you all the best in retirement.”

“Thank you,” Effie replied. “It has been a joy. For the most part.”

The door creaked closed, signaling the end of the program. Bree came back on, announcing that following a break for SkyCo’s fine sponsors, the remainder of the hour would include the top ten hits from 1975. My phone was ringing before the first commercial started.

“Who’s in the most trouble?” Kip asked. “Vida’s not supposed to put real news on the radio. And will Miss Trews be able to work long enough to have a retirement party?”

“I have to give Vida a pass on this one. She was clearly stunned. As for Effie, I don’t think she’s in as much trouble as Karl Freeman. The school board will pitch a fit. I’ve heard rumors about porn among the students, but Freeman stonewalled Mitch.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kip said.

“We’ll sit on this for now,” I told him, but added I’d check on the snowmobiler and get back to him. I immediately called the hospital. Luckily I was transferred to Julie Canby, one of the few nurses I hadn’t antagonized over the years. She gave me the accident victim’s name and verified that he lived in Kent, a Seattle suburb. The snowmobiler was still in the ER but wasn’t seriously injured.

“Maybe a broken arm,” she said. “Contusions and shock along with one wrecked snowmobile. People should do those things in pairs.”

“That’s good news,” I responded. “Can we say minor injuries?”

“Wait until I get official word. I’ll call you back. It shouldn’t take too long before he’s up here in a room.”

“Okay. By the way, did you know Vida interviewed your uncle Clarence yesterday?”

“No,” Julie said. “Did he make sense?”

“He seemed to,” I replied, “at least as long as he kept to the past. Has he ever talked to you about what things were like back then?”

“Not really,” Julie admitted. “I moved to Maltby when I was twenty and didn’t return until I married Spike. Excuse me, Emma, I’ve got a patient calling me.” She lowered her voice. “It’s Jack Blackwell. He must be conscious.” She rang off, leaving me with some unasked questions.

Shortly before eight, Vida called. “You must be as flabbergasted as I was,” she said. “I wanted Effie to elaborate after the show, but she felt she’d already had her say. Such a box of bees!”

“Did you light up KSKY’s three phone lines?”

“I have no idea. I left right away. I do not enjoy Bree Kendall’s company any more than you do. She’s working full-time there, which I didn’t know. I wondered why I hadn’t seen her lately at the hospital reception desk. I shall take Spencer to task for not telling me.”

“Where was Mr. Radio?”

“According to Bree, he had a previous engagement he couldn’t cancel,” Vida said in an indignant tone. “I’m quite vexed with him.”

“I thought maybe he had the flu.”

“Apparently not. I must call Harvey Adcock. He’s the new president of the school board. Are you alone?”

“Yes,” I said, and told Vida that Val Marsden thought he’d spotted the escapee in his backyard. “Jack Mullins stopped by to make sure I was okay. Did you know your nephew Bill’s staying with Tanya?”

“What?” Vida screeched.

I heard a sound outside. “I’ll let you sort that one out. I think Mullins may be back. Bye, Vida.”

I hung up but took the phone with me to the kitchen door. It swung open before I could get past the sink.

Milo walked in, took off his hat, and let out a weary sigh. “Jesus, I’m beat. I’ve got to make this quick. How about if I bring Tanya over here tonight? I can’t leave either of you alone, and Bill’s been on the job for over twenty-four hours. The poor guy’s probably about to pass out.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “I take it you’ll stay here, too?”

“Hell, yes, but don’t expect any thrills and excitement. I might pass out before Bill does.”

I smiled. “I won’t. I want to crash, too. Is the nut still loose?”

Milo put his hat back on. “Yeah. I figure he headed for the woods. No reports of a hitchhiker out on Highway 2 or anybody picking him up. The state patrol expanded the bulletin to Snohomish, King, and Chelan counties. We did find out that the guy’s last known address was in Issaquah. Maybe he thought he could hike through the mountains and end up on I-90 close to his old home on the Eastside. Hell, if he lived in Issaquah, maybe he’ll surface at Mulehide’s house in Bellevue and end up as husband number three.” Shaking his head, he turned to the door. “See you in an hour or so. Stay safe until I get back.”

After I heard him test the knob outside to make sure the door was locked, I went into Adam’s room, which was crowded with my old bed and some of Milo’s belongings. The twin bed was made up and accessible. I was in the living room when Julie called back. The snowmobiler had a simple fracture in his right arm and multiple bruises but was stable. I passed the information on to Kip, who wondered if we should put the story online, given that the injured man wasn’t local. I’d had my own qualms but felt that our already nervous populace would wonder what the emergency vehicles had been doing on the Icicle Creek Road. They might fret that the escapee was in their midst. Kip agreed that was sufficient reason to go online. Thus are great news decisions made in small towns.

Just before nine I realized Milo probably hadn’t eaten dinner. I had chicken breasts, hamburger, and the leftover crab in the freezer. Fifteen minutes later the sheriff and his daughter arrived. Tanya looked more chipper than her father. I assumed Bill hadn’t passed out on her. In fact, she informed me, Vida’s nephew had taken her to dinner at the ski lodge. Milo, however, hadn’t eaten since lunch. He told me to fix whatever was easiest and poured himself a drink.

“You want one?” he asked as an afterthought.

I told him I did, having passed on liquor earlier. The hamburger was enough for a steak-sized serving, so I defrosted it and started frying potatoes in chopped onion. Tanya had gone into the living room and turned on the TV while her father sank into a kitchen chair. He was not in a talkative mood. In fact, he didn’t speak until after the hamburger was frying and some canned peas were starting to boil.

“Thanks,” he said.

I turned the peas down to a simmer and looked at him. “For what?”

“For not asking a lot of dumb questions like you usually do.”

I picked up my drink and sat down. “You’re tired. So am I.”

He put his hand on my arm. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“You earned it after fifteen years. You’re a very patient man.”

He shrugged. “Not always, but I was when it came to you. You’re the most contrary woman I ever met.”

“I prefer perverse.”

“That works, too.” He squeezed my arm before lighting a cigarette and offering me one. I took it. “You heard about Gould?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. Is it really true?”

Milo laughed. “Dwight has no imagination. He couldn’t make that up. The call he answered was from Kay’s place. She’s buying Denise Petersen’s former town house on Second Hill. Kay claimed someone tried to break in. One thing led to another, and … yeah, it is hard to believe. His cruiser was in her garage. From what I remember, Kay can’t survive long without a man. Widowhood doesn’t suit her.”

I laughed, too. “So what will you do about Dwight going AWOL?”

“I’ll dock his pay for the time off. It’s so damned funny that I can’t get too pissed. Besides, he’s right—I did the same thing with you. I probably should’ve docked my own pay, but I never thought about it.”

“Too late now,” I said, getting up to turn the hamburger and potatoes. “By the way, Julie Canby says Blackwell’s conscious.”

“Shit. I should … to hell with it. He may be awake, but he’s not lucid. He stabbed me in the back often enough. Now it really happened to him.”

“You look smug.”

“I am. You look like you want to ask me a question. Don’t. I have no idea who stabbed him. If I did, I’d shake his—or her—hand.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” I said, getting up. “You go by the book.”

“So I do. Dinner ready?”

“Yes,” I said, and proceeded to dish it up. “Go ahead and eat in peace. I’m going to talk to Tanya.”

The sheriff’s daughter was watching CSI, which seemed appropriate. I asked if I could get her some wine or another kind of beverage. She said no, muted the TV, and asked how her dad was doing. I told her he was eating and would probably survive.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked.

I sat down on the arm of the sofa. “No. Why would I be?”

“Well …” She frowned, and when she spoke again, it was almost in a whisper. “I didn’t think much about you as a couple when I was here the first time. Maybe, like Mom, I didn’t take your … relationship seriously. I never really got to know you, not even when you and Dad were dating years ago. He’s changed. I noticed that when he stayed with me while I was recovering. But it didn’t sink in until tonight, when he told me we were coming here. What he said was he had to go home. I don’t think he realized how he put it. Then it hit me on the way here. You make him happy. I don’t remember Dad being happy since I was a little kid.”

“Oh,” I said, touching her arm, “that makes me want to cry!”

“Me too,” she said, sniffling to prove it. “But I’m not helping.”

I smiled. “Let’s put it this way. Your father and I haven’t had a lot of time together since we got engaged. But we’re not a young couple just starting out. We’ve been friends for going on sixteen years and lovers off and on for over half that time. We’ve always had other responsibilities. The difference now is we face them together. Your dad already has had to put up with my brother causing a problem, but we worked through it. The main thing for you is to deal with your crisis and heal. I’ll do what I can to help both of you. When it comes to coping with adversity, we’re seasoned veterans. We may bitch, we may bend, but we don’t break.”

Tanya put her hand over mine but didn’t say anything. The twin tears that trickled down her cheeks were thanks enough. Except for the rare occasions when I’d seen Milo’s children on their visits to Alpine, I’d never thought much about his role as a father. To me, he was always the sheriff, my friend, and my lover. Now I was seeing him in a role he’d assumed long before we met. Maybe I wouldn’t turn into an evil stepmother. I might even become a good wife.

Milo and I both slept like bricks that night. Tanya apparently was nightmare-free. She had gone to bed after we did, having stayed up to watch Jay Leno. The sheriff got up at his usual time while I dozed until a few minutes after seven. He was in the kitchen when I stumbled into the bathroom. After I finished showering, I couldn’t find my hair dryer. Tanya’s door was closed, so I assumed she hadn’t gotten up yet. I found Milo dishing up ham and eggs.

“Did you use my hair dryer?” I asked.

He scowled at me. “I dry my hair with a towel.”

“I can’t find it,” I said.

He sat down. “Oh—I forgot. It’s in the carport.”

“The carport?” I yipped. “What the hell is it doing there?”

“You don’t own a blowtorch,” he said complacently as he buttered the toast. “It dropped to thirty-one last night. I thought maybe the pipes had frozen. Turns out they were okay.”

“You were going to use my hair dryer to …” Of course he was. I supposed it made sense in some weird male way. I went out to the carport and found the hair dryer on top of the woodpile.

“Jerk,” I said, brushing by him on the way back to the bathroom.

He was gone by the time I was dressed and back in the kitchen. Tanya was still sleeping. I ate cornflakes and drank some coffee—which tasted like sawmill sludge. Was Milo’s mere presence near a coffeemaker sufficient to turn my good brew into whatever they drank at his office?

I was going to pour the rest of it down the sink when I saw a note he’d left under my flour canister. My irritation fled as I picked up the small sheet of notepaper, which read: “Your coffee tastes like you made it in the bathtub.” I ripped up the note and threw it in the garbage. And realized I’d been so tired that I’d forgotten to make a fresh pot before I fell into bed. Sure enough, the pot was almost dry. I unplugged it and headed for work. Tanya was on her own.

Amanda, Mitch, and Kip had already arrived. Leo had the bakery run. “Anything new?” I asked, sounding more like a cub reporter than the editor and publisher. In my usual perverse way, I hadn’t turned on KSKY for Spence’s morning update.

“Nut’s still loose,” Kip said. “I suppose Dodge told you that.”

I didn’t comment. “Any word on Blackwell?”

My three staffers stared at me blankly. “Okay,” I said, “I’m out of the loop this morning. I’m still reeling from Vida’s show last night.” I turned to Mitch, aware of the flight bag sitting by his desk. “You’ll have to talk to Karl Freeman this morning. He’ll probably give you a ‘no comment,’ but we’ve got to have something.”

“Shouldn’t Vida handle that?” Mitch asked.

He had a point. Vida, after all, had known the principal since he’d arrived in Alpine, shortly before I had. “You’re right. That story shouldn’t have broken on her program, but that isn’t her fault. You can check on Blackwell. He regained consciousness last night, but wait until the sheriff talks to him.”

Mitch looked puzzled. “Hasn’t Dodge done that already?”

“No. He wanted to wait until he had a good night’s sleep. Blackwell, I mean.” That wasn’t what I meant, but it sounded better. “He might’ve been incoherent last night.” This time I did mean Jack, although it could have gone either way by ten-thirty, when Milo was reduced to muttering something that sounded like “good night.”

Luckily, Vida entered in a flurry of sparkling rhinestone snowflakes on a black cloche. “My phone never stopped ringing last night! Everyone from Harvey Adcock to Grace Grundle. Grace, of course, thought kiddy porn was actually kitty porn and had something to do with her cats! She wanted to know if there were lewd pictures of Tiddlywinks or Crosspatch or whichever other wretched felines she keeps in her menagerie.”

“Poor Grace,” Amanda murmured, trying not to giggle.

“What,” I inquired, “is Harvey going to do with the school board?”

“He’s calling a closed emergency meeting tonight,” Vida replied.

“I assumed he would,” I said, seeing Leo make his entrance. “Did Harvey have any idea about what was going on at the high school?”

“If he did, he wouldn’t admit it,” Vida said, unwinding a long angora scarf from around her neck. I wondered if she’d had it made out of one of Grace’s cats. “The only thing of interest he told me was that Effie Trews would be on hand. And Karl Freeman, of course. We should put that online,” she added, looking at Kip.

“Got it,” Kip said, his gaze straying to Leo and the bakery box.

“Porn City,” Leo said. “I tried to find some indecent pastries, but the closest I could come was cinnamon twists.”

“Leo!” Vida cried. “Don’t make things worse!”

I heard my phone ring. “Amanda,” I said, heading for the coffee table, “can you get that and put it on hold? I need real coffee.”

Leo was setting out the pastries. I grabbed a cinnamon twist, filled my mug, and hurried to grab my phone before sitting down.

“Guess I beat you again,” Spence said, sounding slightly apologetic. “Hey, I had no idea what Vida was doing. Forget I complained about her program getting bland.”

“You’d better treat her like an empress,” I declared. “Where were you last night? She’s not happy with your absence.”

“Damn. Trust me, I had a crisis of my own. I do have a life.”

“Want to tell me about it? It could be news. You owe us.”

“No, I don’t. Advantage, Advocate. Vida’s probably hightailing it up to Alpine High. When did I ever pry into your private life?”

“How about when Milo broke your nose for defending my honor?”

“That was different. I thought Dodge was interested in other things about you than your honor. Macho mistake, okay? Let’s drop it.”

Spence sounded unusually grim. I saw I had another call waiting. “Just make sure you grovel when you talk to Vida. I’ve got breaking news. Ha-ha.” I hung up on him.

I’d lied, of course, but when I picked up the other call, the urgency in Beth Rafferty’s voice got my attention.

“Emma,” she said, speaking rapidly, “I can’t stay on the line very long in case I get a 911 call, but can we meet for lunch at the ski lodge?”

“Yes, sure. Noon?”

“A little after. Evan Singer is filling in for me. See you there.”

Vida was also tied up on the phone, but growing impatient, tapping her pencil on the desk until it finally broke. “Such ninnies!” she declared when I went for a coffee refill just after nine. “Most of these callers aren’t high school parents, they’re voyeurs. They ask such prurient questions.”

“Are you going to arrive unannounced at the high school?” I asked.

Vida stared at me over the rims of her big glasses before pushing them back up on her nose. “Certainly. A surprise attack is always best.”

Leo looked up from his monitor. “Why not a blare of trumpets, Duchess? That might get the attention of the kids who’re ogling porn.”

Vida sniffed disdainfully as she wound the angora scarf around her neck. “I would certainly like to find out where this filth is coming from. Has either of you heard anything but vague rumors?”

Leo and I both looked blank, though he did respond. “I haven’t even heard the rumors. First you have to define what porn is.”

“It’s repellent,” Vida asserted, putting on her coat. “I shall return.” She swept out of the newsroom.

“Maybe I should start calling her General MacArthur,” Leo murmured. “Why are we assuming the purveyor is local?”

“Good question,” I said, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Effie thought it had shown up before Christmas. Some families go out of town for Thanksgiving to visit other relatives. Maybe somebody brought it back with them. A half dozen photos could be considered an epidemic.”

“True enough,” Leo conceded, lighting a cigarette.

Amanda called my name. “Emma, Donna Wickstrom on line one.”

Hurrying back to my office, I’d realized I’d forgotten that Craig Laurentis was supposed to be sending her a new painting. I eagerly picked up the receiver. “Hi, Donna. Have you got the new masterpiece?”

“Not yet,” Donna said. “Next week, maybe. But Craig did contact me. He found the man who escaped from RestHaven. He insisted I tell you, rather than calling the sheriff.”

“Where is he? The escapee, I mean.”

“He’s off that old abandoned road on Tonga Ridge near Carroll Creek. I couldn’t get Craig to give me an exact location. He identifies things by trees and rocks and … anyway, it doesn’t matter in terms of finding him fast. He’s dead.”