Part 25 (2/2)

”Aren't you going a little too far with this shooting spree to avoid me?” he asked in his ironic tone. ”First strangers, now your employees. Who's next? The sheriff?”

”Probably,” I replied. ”He may be the only person I know who's a bigger jacka.s.s than you are.”

”Hmm. Let me think,” Rolf said in that musing tone that irked me as often as it amused me. ”I'm strangling here on swallowed pride and you're being nasty. It makes a fellow wonder why he bothers.”

Maybe he was serious. I could never be sure. ”Hey, it's been an awful week. Not only have I temporarily lost an invaluable employee but I seem to be alienating all sorts of people, including my own kin.”

”Surely not your priestly brother or your equally priestly son? How can a good Catholic girl manage that? Or is that part of the guilt thing with you people? I only know about my own Jewish guilt. Which, I suppose, is why I called.”

”It's these Cavanaughs,” I said, ignoring his comments. ”They're mixed up in all this, and it's making me crazy.”

”More Catholics. Tsk, tsk. You people should really try to get along.”

”I'm not sure this bunch is Catholic,” I said. ”But I'm convinced they're greedy crooks.”

”So why can't they also be Catholic?”

”Please. Don't.” I paused, frantically scratching my head. ”If you were here, I'd tell you all about it.” I saw Curtis stroll into the newsroom. ”Can I call you back this evening?”

It was Rolf's turn to pause. ”Okay,” he finally replied. ”Make it after eight. I won't be home before that. I'm rekindling an old flame after work.”

”It can't take much of a flame if you need only a couple of hours,” I shot back.

”That's pleasantly true. Until then.” He rang off. I felt like wringing his neck. He hadn't bothered to ask how Leo was getting along. It seemed that Rolf's sole reason for calling was to needle me.

Vida returned just after Curtis left to try for another shot of the bear cubs. ”Such a bother!” she exclaimed, tossing the straw hat onto the top of her filing cabinet. ”Ella is the fussiest woman I've ever met. *Would you please open the drapes just a tad, Vida dear? No, not that much. No, no-too far shut. I need a teensy bit more light.' *My ficus should be watered, poor thing. Lukewarm from the tap. Not too warm and not too much. Oh, goodness, I think you're drowning it!' *The bed needs changing and I'm so weak. Would you make sure you put on the sheets with the three-hundred-thread-count cotton?' Now who on earth counts the threads in their sheets? You order them from Sears on sale and pick them up at the catalog office a week later. As for drowning her pitiful-looking plant, I was very close to drowning Ella.”

”Surely,” I said, and not without sympathy, ”other family members will rally around her now that she's home.”

”They'll have to,” Vida said grimly. ”I simply cannot devote my life to caring for Ella.” She glanced around the newsroom. ”Where's Ed? Don't tell me he's out soliciting advertisers.”

”I won't tell you that because he isn't,” I replied irritably. ”He's lunching with Snorty Wenzel. I hope it's some kind of business, because he's been gone for over an hour and a half. Maybe the house sale is actually going through.”

Vida sniffed with disdain. ”More fools than sense. Moving to Alpine is understandable. Buying Ed's house is not.”

”Let's face it,” I pointed out. ”That house would cost six or seven times as much in California. It can be altered into something tasteful.”

Vida looked dubious. I informed her I was going to get fish and chips from the Burger Barn, having struck out with Kelsey-and, in a different way, with Leo.

”Kelsey is mental,” Vida declared. ”A pity. As for Leo, he was sleeping when I was there, too. Maybe that's all for the best. If he can't smoke in the hospital, he may quit. That would be something good to come out of this nightmare.”

”Speaking of which...” I murmured as Ed bustled into the newsroom.

”Hey, hey, hey!” he exclaimed, waving his hand-tooled leather briefcase. ”It's a done deal. We sold the house. Woo-woo!”

”Great,” I said as Vida glowered at Ed. ”Did you get your price?”

Ed had waddled over to Leo's desk. ”Almost,” he replied, lowering both his voice and his head. ”Nothing but the formalities and legal mumbo jumbo now.” He opened the briefcase. ”The offer and all that is right-” He stopped, removing a take-out menu from Itsa Bitsa Pizza. ”That's not it.” He stuffed the menu back into the briefcase and took out several other sheets of paper, one at a time. ”Got to call Marisa Foxx. She'll know what to do with these hotshot San Francisco attorneys.” He picked up the receiver and paused, stubby finger on one of the b.u.t.tons. ”You got her number handy?” he asked me.

”Not off the top of my head,” I replied. ”Try the phone book.”

”Oh. Yeah, right.”

I left for the Burger Barn. I didn't want to listen to Ed torturing Marisa. When I returned fifteen minutes later, he was on the phone, but he wasn't talking to a lawyer. It was obvious that s.h.i.+rley was on the other end of the line.

”Furniture and all,” Ed was saying. ”Gosh, s.h.i.+rl, where would we put all that stuff in our new place? It's expensive to store it.”

I went to Vida's desk. ”Did he get hold of Marisa?” I whispered.

Vida shook her head. ”She was busy.”

Ginny appeared in the newsroom doorway. ”Ms. Foxx is on your other line, Ed.”

”Hey,” he said into the phone, giving Ginny a thumbs-up gesture, ”gotta dash. Later, s.h.i.+rl, okay?”

Cradling my bag of fish and chips, I went to the coffee table to get a couple of napkins. Ed delivered his big news to Marisa. I tried to tune him out as I headed back into my cubbyhole. ”Names?” he responded. ”Uh...Bowels and somebody-other-else.”

I stopped in my tracks.

”Oh,” Ed said, ”you're right. It's Bowles. Sorry about that. When can we get together?”

I waited by the door of my office, reaching into the Burger Barn bag and taking out a couple of French fries.

”Not until then?” Ed said, disappointed. ”It shouldn't take long.” He paused; I waited some more. ”Okay, Tuesday, ten o'clock. Sounds swell. Bye.”

Going back to Leo's desk, I kept my late lunch close to my chest, fearing that Ed might try to steal it. ”Bowles, Mercier and...Fitzsimmons?” I said, unsure of the newer senior partner's name.

Ed nodded. ”How'd you guess?”

”It isn't a guess,” I replied as Vida turned in our direction. ”That's the firm that handled Tom's business and personal affairs.”

Ed shrugged. ”Makes sense. Keeps it all in the family.”

”True.”

And at last, something else was beginning to make sense, a sense that caused me to lose my appet.i.te all over again.

SEVENTEEN.

CURTIS CAME BACK A LITTLE AFTER THREE, LOOKING DISAPPOINTED. ”No luck,” he said, and I realized his woeful expression was genuine. ”The cubs didn't show, neither did the Bear Whisper guy. Dodge was pretty p.i.s.sed off.”

Vida glared at Curtis. ”Please! Could you not use such crude language?”

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