Authors: Irene Radford
Thistle Down (23 page)
“Sometimes I think we need an influx of new blood. But I hate to see drastic changes in our traditions,” Chase replied. “Like logging off The Ten Acre Wood.”
“Heard a rumor that Phelma Jo Nelson had her eye on the mayor’s job.” Mabel covered her quiet words by taking a sip from her iced lemonade glass. Had she ignored his comment about the park, or diverted his attention?
Chase’s eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. “Phelma Jo has never shown an interest in politics before.”
“Except where it interferes with her wheeling and dealing.”
“Where’d you hear this rumor, Mabel?”
“Sweetie, if I told you that, I’d lose the power of secrecy. Let’s just say I have a tribe of Pixies living in my garden. They spy for me in return for a safe haven. Got it in my will that my two acres and house become a city park when I die so that no one, absolutely no one can destroy my garden or break it up for development,” she said on a laugh.
Chills ran down Chase’s spine. He’d seen wings surrounding Thistle Saturday just before she passed out. She claimed to be an exiled Pixie. Now Mabel? She pretended she was joking. Was she hiding the truth beneath the outrageous story?
He didn’t like this at all.
“Coming from anyone else, I’d think you were lying. Thanks, love. Just one more thing. Who’s your favorite judge in town?”
“Johnny Pepperidge. Old George’s son.” A phone buzzed from the console on her desk. “Skene Falls Police Department, how may I direct your call?” She touched a control and spoke into the headset that seemed implanted in her cap of gray curls, thus ending the conversation.
Eighteen
T
HREE RAPS ON THE KITCHEN DOOR drew Dick’s attention away from the salad he threw together for himself. Thistle and Dusty were still at their jobs.
HREE RAPS ON THE KITCHEN DOOR drew Dick’s attention away from the salad he threw together for himself. Thistle and Dusty were still at their jobs.
“Come on in, Chase,” he called, continuing to chop green onions.
“Can I use your Internet, Dick?” Chase asked meekly almost before he’d finished entering the long room with up-to-date stainless steel appliances. An antique farm table big enough to seat eight ran down the middle. When the house was built, the owners had servants who cooked elaborate meals here. These days, the room was underutilized.
“Sure. What’s up that you can’t use your own Internet or the one in your office?” Dick paused in his chopping, wondering if he should add an extra tomato and cucumber to stretch his meal to include his friend.
“Um, I’d rather not have my search traced back to me and the diner wifi is down. Ginny’s updating the server or something.” Chase closed the door quietly, but only after peeking out and scanning the backyard.
“Sounds interesting. . . .” Dick invited Chase to share his information, as they’d shared most everything since second grade. For the first time he noted that Chase had changed out of his uniform shirt, but not his trousers. And he’d removed his utility belt and weapons. Was he on duty or off?
“I’m not saying anything until I find or, rather, don’t find what I’m looking for.” Which meant he was officially on duty, but if he got caught doing something he shouldn’t, he could claim he wasn’t.
“O-kay.” Dick sought a way to pry something further out of Chase. “Want some supper?”
“No, thanks. I grabbed a sandwich at the diner on my way over. Mom says she doesn’t see enough of you, and you need to stop by and catch up soon. I could sure use some iced tea, though. It may be cooler today, but it’s still damn hot and humid.”
“I’ll bring it to you. Use the computer in Mom’s office. It’s got DSL hooked to the modem. All the others are wireless. Don’t know if that makes eavesdropping easy or not. I know criminals have devices to pirate wireless phone receivers to make expensive long-distance calls, or tap into conversations about vacation plans to know when a house will be deserted.”
“Always presume someone is listening on cell and wireless receiver phone calls. Maybe paranoid, but good advice.” Chase nodded agreement with Dick’s caution.
Dick turned back to his salad, curiosity burning holes in the back of his head. He really, really wanted to peer over Chase’s shoulder as he typed in Internet addresses. Was this a criminal investigation? If so, why not leave it to Skene Falls’ only detective. Maybe that was the problem; the detective was always overworked and didn’t have time for minor problems.
At least Dick hoped this was a minor problem.
He poured a glass of tea from the jug in the fridge, added a touch of lemon, one sugar (real sugar, not that agave nectar Dusty used) and three ice cubes. Just the way Chase liked it. Then he carried it, with a coaster because Mom would kill him if condensation on the glass marred the finish on her antique rolltop desk, over to the office off the kitchen. The square room had been the cook’s quarters when the house was built. In 1888, everyone kept a cook and a maid, and sometimes a stable man to take care of the horse and carriage. The carriage house and stable now provided garage space for his convertible, Dusty’s tiny hybrid, Mom’s boat of a sedan, and Dad’s pickup.
As he moved into the office, Dick tried to figure out where Chase searched on the Internet. The screen on the nineteen-inch flat monitor looked like a Google list of addresses.
“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, peering closely. City government and county offices. Public information. If this was information available to anyone, why the back door secrecy?
“Don’t know yet.” Chase clicked on the Skene Falls City Council meeting agenda. City law required a posting of their planned topics, so anyone could attend and make comments.
“What are you looking for?” Dick asked.
“I’ll know it when I see it. Or don’t see it, rather.” Chase bent closer to read the small print, moving the mouse to highlight each item.
“What don’t you see?”
“Something related to a piece of conversation I overheard but couldn’t trace.” The mouse hit bottom and moved back to the beginning.
Dick pulled up an extra swivel chair and read each item as the mouse moved down.
“What’s that?” he asked on the third to last listing.
“Looks like a cleanup of old statutes.” Chase moved down one then back up one. “Why does the Council want to rescind the mayor’s authority to sign work contracts for city maintenance?”
“Can you pull up the original ordinance? I’ve heard rumors that Mayor Seth Johansen is ill and not up to running the city by himself anymore. The Council has just been a rubber stamp for whatever he wanted for as long . . . well, at least since we studied civics in sixth grade,” Dick said.
“Mabel thinks he’s had a stroke. Apparently, he’s leaked a press release to the local paper—should be out on Wednesday—that he’s not going to run again, and he officially endorses Phelma Jo. But a bunch of other people are also announcing their candidacy,” Chase mused, sitting forward to examine the tiny print.
“PJ? Wow, that’s going to be one hot and dirty race.”
“At the moment I’m more interested in the council member who put the item on the agenda.” Chase highlighted the name of George Pepperidge. “Why would he want to limit the power of the mayor when he’s running for the office?”
“Send him an email and ask.”
“But I don’t want him to know where the question comes from.”
“Make up a name and get a quick mail account. Then, as soon as you get an answer, cancel the account.” Dick shrugged.
“You mean like you do when you aren’t sure if you want to date a girl more than once?” Chase sniggered.
“Yeah.” Dick blushed. “So what is this about?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do!”
“Okay, I overheard George Pepperidge talking to someone about an offer to log off The Ten Acre Wood. The offer came through an anonymous third-party lawyer from out of town. Couldn’t find them, just stray words drifting down an old ventilation shaft in City Hall. The place is riddled with redundant and abandoned vents, whispering corners, and other weird acoustics. I need to know who Pepperidge was talking to and where they are hiding the paperwork.”
Dick whistled long and low. “That is major. Maybe that’s why Pepperidge wants to take contractual authority away from the mayor, to keep him from signing the permit without a vote from the City Council.”
“Exactly.”
“Email Pepperidge while I think about who else might know.” Dick stood up, ready to go back to the kitchen and think while he chopped veggies. “Is it time to alert Tommy Ledbetter down at the
Post
?”
Post
?”
“Not yet. We want a little more than pieces of an overheard conversation before we turn Digger loose.” Chase replied.
“How’d he get the nickname Digger? He certainly doesn’t do any investigative reporting,” Dick chuckled. “He’s all gossip and this year’s most fashionable hat at the Garden Club.” And Dick asleep at the wheel while the volunteer fire department loaded flowers.
“Goes back to grade school.” Chase tilted back in the office chair, arms stretched over his head and rotating his neck to relieve tension. “Some girls found him digging for pirate treasure in The Ten Acre Wood.”
“We all dug for pirate treasure by the big oak.”
“But we didn’t get caught. Let’s not get caught on this search. Not yet at least.”
“Thistle, do you know how to do an Internet search?” Dusty asked as they mounted the steps to the enclosed back porch. They’d had a successful afternoon introducing Thistle to her new friends. Few of the old folks wanted to admit they needed help. They gave in to the idea of Thistle “just checking on them” because of Dusty.
“No,” she replied, eyes studying her sandals as if they held all the answers. “Remember how your computer used to go all wild colors and static when I rode the mouse with you?”
“Damn. I was hoping you’d have some ideas about tracking down the people wanting to cut down The Ten Acre Wood.” Dusty bit her lip, juggling options.
“Pixies are tied to Earth and Water. Earth gives us an affinity with the metals in computers, but water drowns it. Faeries are tied to Fire and Air. They have an affinity with the signals flying through the Air, but Fire makes them scatter and become useless. Computers don’t like any of us.”
“Water nurtures Earth and brings forth glorious plants and trees. Air feeds Fire, making it stronger. I wonder if a half-breed could inherit stronger affinity with Earth and Air to overcome Water and Fire. Then they’d be able to handle computers and cell phones,” Dusty mused.
“Don’t even think about half-breeds! They’re monsters out of legends. No one has seen a half-breed since . . . since before the Faeries went underhill. Only one old Faery remained. He took up residence in the Patriarch Oak and pretended to advise and rule Pixies from there. He was too old to breed then. He’s gone now. That’s why Alder is king. He succeeded the old Faery.”
Thistle’s eyes crossed like she remembered something but didn’t want to talk about it. Then her expression cleared. “I have other sources of information.”
“Do I want to know about your sources?” Dusty imagined homeless men sleeping under the bridge or drug addicts hanging out around the back of the liquor store. Chase sometimes talked about gleaning information from such creatures.
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