The Alpine Xanadu (28 page)

“You heard it?” he asked in less than his usual mellow style.

“Kip did.” I repeated what I’d been told. “Anything else?”

“That’s it.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“Why do you want to know? We can’t release a name.”

“Hey, I just wondered. You don’t have to get snarky.”

“You’ve got everything you need. Got to run.” He hung up on me. I might as well have been talking to the sheriff. Which made me wonder if Milo knew about the RestHaven breakout. Maybe not, if he was lunching with Tanya. I called his office and this time Doe Jamison answered.

“The boss is at the ski lodge coffee shop with his daughter,” Doe said. “Jack Mullins and Dustin Fong are on patrol. Dodge doesn’t need to know until he gets back.”

“How’s it going with Tanya on the premises?” I asked.

“It’s okay,” Doe replied. “Her dad put her to work this morning checking out license plates. She seems sort of sad, but otherwise it’s not a problem. Bill Blatt’s been helping her.”

“Say,” I said suddenly, “I just realized Mitch didn’t come back with the Eriks autopsy report. Is it in yet?”

“Not until this afternoon,” Doe said.

I thanked her and disconnected. After typing up my notes, I took the online version to Kip. “Spence verified it,” I told him, “so it’s a go. He sounded odd. Maybe he’s coming down with something.”

“It’s still February,” Kip said. “Cold and flu season.”

“True.” I took the long way to my office and looked outside.
The clouds had lifted and a weak sun shone on Front Street. Good weather for the escapee. Not so good for everyone else if he was dangerous.

Vida returned just before one. “Well now!” she exclaimed, smoothing the pheasant feather on her hat. “I hear there’s a crazy person on the loose. Who’s in charge of security at RestHaven?”

“I’d have to look it up. Why don’t you ask Roger?”

“He isn’t back from Bellingham,” Vida replied, removing her coat. “Davin wants him to stay another night. The dorm students often entertain. Some wholesome fun will show Roger that college isn’t all work and no play. If it’s nice, perhaps they can have a wienie roast outside.”

I couldn’t look at Vida and keep a straight face. Visions of beer kegs or worse danced in my head. There were times when Vida’s ability to deceive herself stretched my credulity.

When the rest of my staff had returned to the office ten minutes later, I brought them up to speed on what little we knew about the escapee. Mitch was the point man.

“Talk to Kay Burns and keep tabs on the sheriff’s office,” I said. Hearing the phones ringing on all three lines, I told Amanda we’d get calls from panicky residents, especially older people and parents of young children. Updates would be posted when we learned anything new.

“All this patient privacy,” Vida fumed after Mitch and Amanda left us. “It’s absurd. How can we cover news without names?”

“We have to, unless Milo can pry more out of them.”

Vida harrumphed and stalked to her desk. I assumed she was still mad at the sheriff. She hadn’t asked about witnessing our marriage with whatever J.P. I could find who wasn’t Simon Doukas.

Back in my office, I wondered if I’d overburdened Mitch. He’d be leaving for Pittsburgh in less than twenty-four hours. If there was more breaking news, including the revised autopsy report, he
might feel rushed. But he was touchy about my interference. Reminding myself I was his editor and not his handmaiden, I called the one RestHaven employee I’d gotten to know best—Jennifer Hood, R.N. She owed me for being discreet about the Tiffany sighting in Kay Burns’s office.

My call was transferred to the medical rehab unit. Jennifer answered on the third ring. “I just got back from making rounds,” she said breathlessly. “Are you inquiring about a patient?”

“Yes, but not one of yours,” I admitted. “We need to know everything we can about the psych ward patient who left the premises. Our nervous readers are calling for updates.”

Jennifer didn’t respond right away. “I don’t know much about him,” she finally said. “I’ve seen him only once, when he had a sinus infection and I was the only nurse available. He was calm but suspicious, probably because he didn’t know me.”

“What’s his condition?”

Another pause. “I can’t tell you. Maybe you can guess.”

I reflected on her earlier words. “Suspicion indicates paranoia.”

“It could. I will say,” she continued speaking more quickly, “that he seems very intelligent. I’d guess him to be some kind of professional. He certainly has never done any hard labor.”

“Is he really dangerous?”

“Maybe. I’m sure Dr. Woo approved the announcement.”

“The announcement?” I repeated in surprise.

“Yes,” Jennifer said. “Isn’t that what it’s called when a statement is given to the media?”

“This part of the media had to hear it over the radio,” I retorted. “Did Kay Burns release it?”

“I suppose,” Jennifer replied. “That’d be her job, right?”

“Yes,” I said in disgust. “By the way, who heads up security?”

“That position hasn’t been filled. They’ve been interviewing, but the two most qualified candidates decided they wanted to move
to a more metropolitan area. Dr. Farrell has assumed the role until an applicant is found to fill the job. Some people don’t want to live in a small town. It was like that in Dunsmuir.” Jennifer sounded as if she was trying to appease me.

“True. I’m sorry to press you, but it’s my job.”

“I know,” Jennifer said. “I wish I could be more help.”

We rang off on that conciliatory note. I wanted to throttle Spence and Kay Burns. This wasn’t just a leak, but a major insult. I closed my door and dialed my rival’s number to give him hell. When he answered, the first words out of my mouth were a threat. “I’m ordering Vida to cancel her show tonight,” I said. “You and Ms. Burns have gone too damned far. It’s one thing to get beat on some pissant information out of RestHaven, but this nut case breakout is big news involving the whole damned county. If Vida doesn’t agree with me, I’ll can her ass.”

“God, Emma, are
you
crazy? It’s not my fault you weren’t notified.”

“Then whose freaking fault was it?” I demanded.

Spence didn’t answer right away. “The RestHaven people panicked. This guy’s paranoid, and having this happen so soon after the grand opening is terrible P.R. If he does something reprehensible, they’re liable and their reputation is trashed before the first month of operation is over. Cut them some slack.”

“No. Reacting with panic doesn’t befit pros who deal with the mentally ill. I’ll inform Vida while you fill your empty airtime. I just talked to Jennifer Hood. Now you can tell her the interview’s off.”

“Wait, you mean you already told her she wasn’t going to be on—”

I banged down the phone. Spence could deal with Jennifer. I stormed out of my office—and stopped. The newsroom was empty. Vida’s coat wasn’t there, either. I asked Amanda where Vida had gone.

“She’s taking pictures of a triple birthday party at the retirement home,” Amanda said. “She also mentioned seeing Mrs. Parker. Maybe there’s news about Tiffany.”

“Let’s hope it’s good news,” I said as the phone rang. I started for my office, but Amanda called out that Rosemary was on line one.

“Don’t tell me,” I said after hurrying to take the call at my desk, “you’re being menaced by the RestHaven loony.”

Rosemary laughed. “Nothing so exciting, though I might not mind. I haven’t been on a date in six months. This town’s short of eligible men.”

“Tell me about it,” I said.

“You got yours,” Rosemary said. “Maybe that’s my problem—I’ve overlooked someone who’s right in front of me. I tried to get Vida earlier, but she was on the phone and now she’s out. Holly Gross came to see me after lunch. She’s leaving town.”

“How come?”

“Let’s face it, she’s sort of ADD. Her other two kids are still in Sultan and the foster parents were getting impatient for her to collect them. Holly’s headed for Centralia, but she’s not giving up—Esther Brant won’t let her—so I suppose a legal hassle will follow. I called Amy Hibbert first, but she’s not home. Where’s Roger, by the way?”

I told her about his Bellingham visit. Rosemary speculated as I did, that Diddy or Dippy—or maybe the poor tyke was using an alias by now—was probably stashed with Roger’s aunt and uncle.

“Can you tell Vida?” Rosemary asked. “Impress upon her that Roger has to prove paternity or they’ll never see Dippy again.”

“I will. Oh—you’re on Vida’s evil list with Milo and Proxmire.”

“Holy Mother,” Rosemary said softly. “Why can’t Vida admit … forget it. I don’t mind, but she’s basically so sensible. I’d hoped she’d put her rose-colored glasses in the back of the drawer.”

“It’s her blind spot,” I said. “Say, is Proxmire a J.P.?”

“I’m sure she is,” Rosemary said. “I can check. Why do you … are you going to make it legal before you get the annulment?”

“We might,” I hedged. “It’s probably the thing to do. We wouldn’t want to set a bad example for the younger set. Like Roger.”

“Right,” Rosemary said dryly. “I’ll double-check on the judge.”

I thanked her and rang off just as Mitch appeared in the doorway. “No autopsy report yet, and Dr. Reed isn’t seeing anybody. In fact, neither are Woo and Farrell. They’ve gone to ground.”

“It figures,” I said, and recounted my exchange with Fleetwood.

Mitch looked surprised. “You really won’t let Vida do her show?”

“That’s right. Spence should’ve given us a heads-up, and Kay Burns has to learn she can’t play favorites.”

My reporter frowned. “It wasn’t Kay. She called in sick today.”

I was flummoxed. “Do you know who it was?”

“No. Woo, maybe. He might not know the protocol.”

“Damn. Spence still should have told us.”

Mitch grimaced. “Do you really want Vida to have another snit?”

I began to weaken. “I’ll think on it. Did the sheriff’s office have anything new about the escapee?”

“They’re looking for him. So are the park rangers and the state patrol. No reports of stolen vehicles, so he’s either on foot or hitchhiking.”

“He might’ve hopped a freight. Put an update online. It’ll reassure people that something’s being done. Is there a photo or a sketch?”

“Fong said there’s no photo and they don’t want a sketch. More patient privacy. That’s wrong in this situation.”

I agreed. Vida arrived half an hour later but immediately began returning calls that had piled up in her absence. She came into my
office around three and declared that she was wild. “Jennifer Hood cancelled. Doesn’t that beat all? I didn’t intend to ask about the runaway lunatic, but to focus on her move here. She still refused, saying that Dr. Woo felt it was in poor taste, given the situation. Now what does the
situation
have to do with making a new life in Alpine?”

I relented about Vida staying off the air. “What will you do now?”

“It’s short notice,” she said, plucking at her yellow blouse’s pussycat bow. “I’ll find someone.” She started to walk away, but paused. “What about Edna Mae Dalrymple? She was very nervous last year when I interviewed her and made a jumble of things, but literacy is in crisis.”

“Give her a call. I just talked to her recently about my censorship editorial regarding
Tom Sawyer
. You could tie that in, too.”

“Indeed. I’ll ring her at once.”

Mitch reappeared with his notebook in hand. “I had Kip post the sheriff’s update about the escapee search, but something’s odd.”

“Besides the escapee?” I asked.

Mitch shook his head. “Fong was the only deputy there. He said they were on full alert—Jamison, Mullins, Heppner, Blatt. Dodge, too. He took his daughter with him. No Gould. I thought he was back to work.”

“Dwight was there earlier,” I said. “He was on a call.”

Mitch shrugged. “Maybe he’s still on it.”

I didn’t want to pass along Kay’s alleged concern about her ex. “Dwight’s probably on highway duty.”

Ten minutes later Tanya showed up. “Hi, Emma,” she said, still wearing her waif-like air. “Dad thought you might need some help.”

“Can’t he use you at his office?” I blurted out. “I mean, he must be short-handed with just Lori and Dustin there.”

She slumped into a chair. “Sam Heppner made some crack
about me tagging along on the search. Dad didn’t hear it, but it upset me. I’d just as soon not go back there right now.”

“Sam’s a jerk,” I said. “I’ve got a project for both of us. Let’s get some old copies of the
Advocate
. We’re on a mission dating back to the era of your father’s predecessor. Did you know Eeeny Moroni?”

Tanya followed me to the newsroom. “Sort of. Wasn’t he a crook?”

“He turned out to be later.” I pulled four bound volumes from the mid-1950s and gave half of them to Tanya. I cleared my desk enough to give Tanya some space and explained the seamy background Clarence Munn had related to Vida. “We only need to look at the front page and the editorials. Just be thankful the
Advocate
’s always been a weekly.”

“Dad never mentioned hookers or other vice around here,” Tanya said, beginning to flip through the 1958 editions.

“He hasn’t told me, either. But remember, he was a little kid during Moroni’s early years as sheriff.”

Tanya smiled slightly. “It’s hard to think of Dad as a little kid.”

I laughed. “It is for me, too.”

We worked in silence for the next ten minutes. Finally I found something in a September 1960 issue. “Here’s an article about the county auditor being investigated for embezzlement. Hector Thoreson allegedly stole twenty grand from SkyCo’s road fund. There must be a follow-up.” The first
Advocate
in October had a big headline: “Auditor Indicted on Graft Charges.” I read the story aloud. Thoreson not only had used county money for gambling, but had taken payoffs from Rupert Grimsby, Tyee Café owner. Rupe, as he was known, had action beyond the kitchen—a high-stakes poker room and illegal betting. The café had been located on the site now occupied by Francine’s Fine Apparel.

“Interesting timing,” I murmured. “The story broke just before the 1960 presidential election.” I scanned the rest of the page below the fold. Sure enough, a young and almost unrecognizable Eeeny
Moroni was glad-handing Kiwanis members at a breakfast meeting.