While Telma brewed the coffee and got down mugs, Kate and Virgil talked about the coming fishing season, and how the dip netters and the sports fishermen and the subsistence fishers were cutting into the commercial fishing action. From there they moved on to hunting, and the gay abandon with which the rangers opened and closed the moose, deer, and caribou seasons. “I was talking to a man in Ahtna,” Virgil said, traces of Norway still present in his slow, deliberate speech. “He tells me there are more deer on the Kanuyaq delta than he has ever seen. What happens if there is no managed harvest, if they are allowed to eat up all their food supply?” He gave his head a solemn, mournful shake. “I am glad that I can afford to buy beef in Ahtna, Kate, because I do not believe I can support us any longer with my rifle and my shotgun.”
They agreed that hunting to eat in Alaska as it had been traditionally practiced was very probably doomed. Telma relieved their mutual despondency with coffee and peanut butter cookies produced from a large ceramic jar cast in the shape of Sylvester the Cat’s head.
Kate swallowed and said, “Great cookies, Telma.”
Telma smiled her thanks.
“I was wondering if the two of you could help me with something.”
“If we can, sure, Kate,” Virgil said.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard about Len Dreyer.”
“Dreyer?” Virgil said slowly.
“The guy who used to fix things. Houses, trucks, snow machines, boat engines.” Virgil still looked blank. “I understood that he and Dandy Mike did some work for you last summer.”
Virgil’s brow cleared. “Oh. The handyman.”
“Yes.”
“He helped me build our new greenhouse.” Virgil nodded several times. “What about him?”
“Well.” Kate fortified herself with a sip of coffee, which was dark and rich and laced with just the right amount of evaporated milk. “To start with, he’s dead.”
“Oh.” Virgil looked at Telma, putting a hand over hers, as if she needed comforting after the shock of Kate’s announcement. “I did not know that. I am sorry to hear it.”
Telma smiled her sympathy.
Clearly trying for politeness, Virgil said, “Were you friends?”
“No. I was like you, he did some work for me, and beyond that I didn’t know much about him personally. The thing is, the trooper has asked me to ask around about him.”
“The trooper? What for?”
“Well.” There was something so civilized about the Hagbergs’ house, a neat log cabin, exterior logs freshly oiled, interior Sheet-rock freshly painted, floors freshly scrubbed, that made it difficult to utter the word “murder” within its walls. “It appears that Mr. Dreyer was a victim of homicide.”
Virgil stared at her. “Well, for gosh sakes.” The expression would have sounded quaint coming from anyone except Virgil Hagberg. It also added ten years to his age.
“Yes.”
“What a terrible thing to have happen to someone.”
“Yes,” Kate said.
Virgil cast around looking for something else to say. “Who did it?”
“That’s just it. We don’t know. His body was discovered inside the mouth of Grant Glacier.”
“Well, for gosh sakes,” Virgil said again.
“So the trooper has asked me to trace Mr. Dreyer’s last movements. And Dandy Mike said he and Dreyer had done some work for you last summer.”
“Of course, of course,” Virgil said. He made an obvious effort to gather his thoughts. “It was in July, around the middle of the month, I think. Mr. Dreyer and Dandy Mike came out and put in the foundation and did the framing and the roof. I wanted to put in some tomatoes.” His chest puffed out a little. “We got ourselves a daughter to feed now, you know.”
At that moment a thin girl with a pale, solemn face came into the kitchen. “Have you met Vanessa? Vanessa Cox, this is Kate Shugak.”
Woman and girl exchanged nods.
“Our cousin’s only child,” Virgil added in a hushed voice, as if Vanessa wasn’t standing at the counter directly behind him. “There was a tragedy, you know. Both her parents were killed.”
He raised his voice. “Did you want something, Vanessa?”
“One of Aunt Telma’s cookies,” Vanessa said.
“Sure, go on, help yourself.” Virgil turned back to Kate. “Her grandparents were dead, and she was all alone in the world. It looked like she was going to have to go into foster care until we said we would take her. I would not put a dog into foster care.”
He patted Telma’s hand. Telma smiled her agreement.
Vanessa reached into a drawer and pulled out a Ziploc bag. She proceeded to fill it with cookies from Sylvester’s head. Both Telma and Virgil had their backs to her and her movements were noiseless and efficient. When the bag was full, Vanessa vanished again.
“A lovely girl,” Virgil said. “And so quiet around the house. Is it not so, Telma?”
Telma smiled her agreement.
“Johnny…” Kate said, and then she was stumped at what to call Johnny. He wasn’t her son, he wasn’t even a relative. “Johnny Morgan, the boy who is living with me, is in Vanessa’s class. He’s talked about her some.” In fact, Kate thought, Vanessa was with Johnny when he discovered the body. Had Vanessa not told the Hagbergs about it?
“All good things, I hope,” Virgil said, smiling at Telma.
Telma smiled back. Telma smiled a lot.
“Of course, all good things,” Kate said, and shifted into investigator mode. She asked the usual questions and got the usual answers. No, Dreyer hadn’t mentioned family or friends. No, he hadn’t said where he was from. He’d showed up when he was called, and he’d done what he’d hired on to do and that well, he’d been paid in cash, and then he’d left.
The ideal handyman, Kate thought. Why on earth would anyone want to kill him? She drained her mug and got to her feet. “Thanks for the coffee and the cookies, Telma. Virgil.”
“Kate. I am sorry we could not help more.”
“You and everybody else,” Kate said.
She climbed into her truck and sat in thought for a moment. Bonnie Jeppsen had sent Keith Gette and Oscar Jimenez to Bobby. After to the Roadhouse, and particularly for those who didn’t, couldn’t, or wouldn’t drink, the postmistress was the next best contact point for the Park. Everybody got mail.
The most conversation Kate had had lately with Bonnie Jeppsen was “Hi” when she picked up and dropped off her mail. Perhaps that should change.
Of course, there were reasons why Bonnie Jeppsen might be perfectly happy to live out the rest of her life on a “Hi, how’ve you been” basis with Kate.
“But she’s probably forgotten all about that by now,” Kate said out loud.
Mutt stuck her cold nose in Kate’s ear. Kate fended her off. “All right, all right, we’re going.” She started the truck and set off.
They got home at nine o’clock to find Johnny gone.
6
Dear Kate,“ the note on the kitchen table began.
I’m not going back Outside to live with my grandmother. I’m not going to Anchorage to live with my mom. I’m staying in the Park. No judge who doesn’t know me or you or my mom is going to make decisions about my future. It’s my “- ‘my was in capitals and underlined-v future. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’m in a safe place, I brought my sleeping bag, and I have lots of food.
Kate sighed. “Oh, hell.” There was a P.S.
I’m sorry, but I took the.30-06. I left you the shotgun so you should be okay. I promise I’ll pay you for any ammunition I use.
Kate’s blood didn’t exactly run cold but she could feel frost forming on her veins. “Okay,” she said, letting the note fall to the table.
She stepped to the door. The clearing was void of life. She stepped outside and took a deep breath. “MUUUUUUUTT!”