Rock Bottom (Imogene Museum Mystery #1) (17 page)

“
Julian?” Sheriff Marge had come up quietly.

He shifted his gaze to her.
“Yes.” Then he said it again to answer the unspoken question.

“
The medical examiner needs to speak with you.”

Julian followed her.

George walked around the body and stood beside me. He studied the river with me, a solid, steady presence.

“
You know him,” I said.

“
An acquaintance. He buys salmon from me every year, more than he can eat. He is a generous man. I never knew his son, or I would have handled this differently.”

“
You did right, George.”

He turned toward me.
“Right or good? But this is not the time to be philosophical.” He placed his hands on the outside of my shoulders. “I will pray that the one you seek will be found safe.”

“
Thank you,” I whispered.

“
Meredith.” Sheriff Marge was back. “Take Julian home.”

He was walking toward the parked cars, and I hurried to catch up with him.

“Do you trust me with your truck?” I asked and held out my hand.

Julian flashed me a quick glance, fished in his pocket and dropped the keys in my palm.

CHAPTER 16

I climbed into the driver
’s seat. It felt like a cockpit with all the dials and knobs and buttons and took me a while to adjust the seat so I could reach the pedals. Julian tried pointing to levers and things I needed, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. I found the ignition and did an eight-point turn without bashing into any of the shanty trailers. I slid it into drive and rolled up to the main road.

Now I understood what Julian meant about the center console. I didn
’t really know this man, but I wanted to crawl over there into his lap and wrap my arms around him. Nothing romantic about it. He needed holding together. I’d never seen such quiet, penetrating distress — fissures running through that tough veneer.

I was supposed to be driving. The truck didn
’t have autopilot. I stared at the dashed yellow line as it flew under the left corner of the hood.

As I slowed to take the Platts Landing exit, Julian roused.
“Please go to your house. I can drive the rest of the way on my own.” He noticed my short grimace. “Is that alright with you?”

“
Sure. It’s just that, technically and figuratively, I live on the other side of the tracks. It’s, uh, humble.”

Julian snorted softly.
“I do not care about that.”

“
I know.” I shouldn’t have said it.

Mort and Sally
’s minivan was parked in front of my truck and trailer. I brought Julian’s truck to a stop on the grass beside their van. I hoped Herb, my landlord, wouldn’t mind, just for a little while. He was picky about his grass.

Sally waved with one hand, casserole cradled in her other arm. Mort was holding Tommy up to his face, and they were rubbing cheeks while Tuppence happily sniffed the new pant legs. The cat was probably purring like a lawn mower.

“Will you stay?” I asked in a low voice, after I turned off the engine but before we made a move for the door handles. “I can’t eat that casserole all by myself.” I watched the shift happen, when Julian’s thoughts caught up with real time and the needs of the living. He drew a breath, gazed at me several seconds, and nodded.

Should I have placed a demand on him that way? So soon? Mort and Sally were waiting. I nodded back and hopped out of the truck.

“We were just leaving a note,” Sally said.

“
And trying to figure out a place to put the casserole where Tuppence couldn’t get into it. This little cat added a new wrinkle, since I assume it can climb?” Mort asked.

I tried to answer in the affirmative, but Sally was giving me a big, muffling hug.

“I’m very sorry,” I heard Mort say and peeked over Sally’s shoulder to see Mort shaking Julian’s hand with both of his. So they knew.

“
Will you do the service?” Julian asked.

“
Of course. Of course, I will.” Mort put his arm around Julian’s shoulders. He had to stretch up to do it, but he held the embrace for a manly few seconds.

“
We’ve just come from the potluck,” Sally murmured to me. “I made two casseroles and saved this one for you. It could use a few minutes in the oven to reheat.”

I unlocked the trailer and ushered everyone, animals included, inside. I
’d never had so many people in my RV before, but they all found a place to sit without too much trouble. Tommy made himself comfortable on Mort’s lap.

“
I think you brought dessert, too, didn’t you, honey?” Mort asked.

“
Yes, it’s still in the cooler.”

Mort handed Tommy to Julian and bustled out. Tommy
’s purring was audible from where I was leaning against the kitchen counter. I dumped a can of tuna on a plate and passed it to Julian. Tommy dug in.

“
He showed up last night. I don’t have all the trappings for a cat, so it’s a good thing I do have a stash of canned tuna,” I explained.

Sally helped me set out plates and silverware, and we all crammed around the dining table. Mort and Sally took modest helpings.

“We just ate a couple hours ago,” Sally said.

“
That doesn’t matter, honey,” Mort said. “You’re the best cook in the world. Oh, you and Meredith are, I mean.”

“
I quite agree with you. Sally is the best.” I helped myself to a steaming mound of chicken, peppers and onions rolled in flour tortillas and smothered in a cheesy cream sauce, like enchiladas but better.

Julian didn
’t say anything, but he inhaled his food, which I took to be a good sign.

“
I don’t want to be pushy, but would it help to talk about it yet?” Mort asked.

I waited for Julian. The muscles in his jaw rippled again, as if he was restraining words until they could be measured.

“I expected it. I think I knew.” He turned toward me. “I’m sorry you had to go through that today.”

I shook my head.
“I wanted to be there.”

“
He came home — my prodigal boy. He tried to seek shelter, but his past followed him.” Julian pushed his Stetson back, rubbed his forehead then resettled the hat. “I should have protected him more.”

“
Yet he was a man, and he made his own decisions. There are always consequences.” Mort replied. “What-iffing will rob the usefulness from your life.”

Julian nodded.
“I know that well, but I think I need to ache for a while.”

“
Yes, you do. It is sometimes good to sense the magnitude of sin, the results of sin. Then we treasure salvation all the more.”

I pondered in silence. Pain was good? Death was good? An example to the living to take heed? Some people seemed to get more examples than others, like Julian. A man of wealth, prestige
— and deep sorrow.

Sally looked around at our somber faces.
“Dessert?”

I ate the chocolate cherry something without appreciating it. I was suddenly leaden. My body moved at a sluggish pace, as though sleepwalking
— my brain lagged even farther behind, failing to give the right commands at the right time. Whatever spurt I’d had earlier, when Julian needed it, was gone now. Julian seemed to be suffering from the same malaise.

Mort and Sally kept up a conversation. The sound was distorted as though filtered through the narrow end of a funnel. I knew I wasn
’t responding properly. I did manage to scoop half the remaining casserole and dessert into containers for Julian to take with him. He moved stiffly toward his truck, climbed in, nodded the Stetson, and drove off.

“
I hope he makes it home,” I murmured.

Mort heard me.
“He will. We have yet to see the depths of his fortitude in God’s grace, I think.”

“
Someday, I’ll know what you mean. I only get snippets now.”

Mort looked a little embarrassed.

“No, no,” I patted his arm, “I like it. How did you know — when we arrived? I couldn’t think of a way to signal you.”

“
There was only one reason you’d be driving his truck.”

o0o

Full stomach, warm fireplace, and a drowsy cat in my lap whose purring had tapered off to a minor vibration. Tuppence’s heavy head rested on my right foot. This was how life was supposed to be. Sharp rapping at the door broke into my stupor. Had someone driven up? How long had I been dozing? Was it Julian?

I dumped Tommy, who hit the floor with a squeak.
“Sorry,” I whispered and scrambled for the door.

A worn out Sheriff Marge stood on the step. There was a new darkness under her eyes, and her skin had more wrinkles as if she
’d deflated a little.

“
Come in,” I said. “I have casserole.”

“
Of course you do. Sally?”

I nodded and popped a loaded plate in the microwave.

“This time I’ll ask you. How’s Julian?”

“
He’s hard to read. Mort says we haven’t seen the depths of his fortitude in God’s grace yet.”

“
I expect Mort’s right.” Sheriff Marge devoured the casserole. She pushed the plate away and sighed.

“
Dessert?”

“
No. I’ve got something else to tell you. I’m looking forward to the day when we’ll be able to chat about potlucks and break-ins again, but right now I have more bad news.”

I sat down.

“Pete Sills called. He was coming back empty from a trip upriver. You know those turnoffs along Highway 14 where the heritage trail markers are?”

“
Yeah. There’s a bunch of them. I went out to one on…” When was it? Ages ago. Less than a week ago. “Monday,” I finished.

“
At the first one east of Lupine, he noticed a large swath cut through the brush down the side of that steep bank into the river. Not a mud slide because the vegetation was still rooted in place, but like something large had crashed through it.”

I waited, my body rigid.

“He anchored the tug and took the dingy out to have a closer look. There’s a light colored car in the water below the parking spot. He couldn’t tell make or model or exact color. It’s too deep to see clearly.” Sheriff Marge pressed her lips together. “It’s getting dark, and the car’s not going anywhere tonight, so I’m arranging for the dive team to come out first thing in the morning.”

“
Okay.”

“
You understand?”

“
Yes.”

“
Can you think of any reason why Greg — and I’m not saying it’s his car — would drive east last Sunday instead of west?”

I shook my head.
“I drove by there on Monday, and I’m sure there weren’t any cars at that marker, especially not Greg’s.”

“
Okay.” Sheriff Marge rubbed her large hands on her thighs as though she was trying to generate the energy to carry on. “Normally we don’t let family watch or participate in the rescue efforts. We keep them a safe distance away to spare them. Julian was an exception because I knew he’d keep it together. You’re an exception, too. You’re not technically family, but you’re closer to Greg than any of his real family. You can come if you want, but I’m reserving the right to send you home if I think it’s best.” She rose, and I watched her leave.

What I
’d said to George about waiting for someone to wash up — that was real, wasn’t it? The words had just come out. And now they seemed prescient. I was going to have to do it again — identify a body. Was there any hope left?

I climbed into bed, my throat scratchy and my head pounding.