"Whew' Qwilleran said when the story ended Is Dank Hollow still there'?
"No they filled it in a few years ago and built condominiums I'm not superstitious but I'd sure think twice before buying one When will your book be published?"
"As soon as I've collected a sufficient number of yarns I might have space for one of your rum running tales at a later date if you d be good enough to - " "I'd be honored!... More coffee?"
While drinking his second cup of coffee Qwilleran asked, "What happened to the server who was supposed to wait on our table last night?"
"Tracy? Well she's a good worker and pretty and has a nice way with customers but she's a very impulsive type She suddenly rushed into the kitchen as if she'd seen a ghost She was hysterical and my wife took her into our private quarters so the guests wouldn't be disturbed We didn't know what kind of seizure it was so we called 911. We also called her home and her father came and got her It turned out that the gentleman who just got married was supposed to be her boyfriend. Can you beat that?"
It's been the stuff of Greek tragedy opera, and novels for centuries Qwilleran said The villain usually gets stabbed."
"She has a little boy, you know, and that might be why she lost out. An elegant young man like Mr. James might not want to take on a ready made family."
Especially Qwilleran thought when the alternative is a woman with property and inherited wealth.
From the Boulder House Inn Qwilleran drove to the Pickax community hall, where the Boosters Club was having its weekly luncheon. Ernie Kemple would be there as official greeter, and Qwilleran wanted to have a few words with him. There would be a fast lunch and an even faster business meeting, and then the members would hurry back to their stores and offices.
Kemple was welcoming them at the door with his usual hearty banter, but Qwilleran detected an undertone of anxiety. He said, "Ernie, let's talk after the meeting." He wanted to brace him for the newspaper coverage of the wedding. But first he had to stand in line for his soup-and-sandwich platter, which he carried to one of the long institutional tables. He sat next to Wetherby Goode and across from Hixie Rice.
"Bean soup again! Ham and cheese again!" the weatherman complained. "I thought the lunches would have more class after they let you gals join."
"Don't worry," she said. "Next week it'll be fruit salad and melba toast."
During the business session it was she who gave the update on the Ice Festivaclass="underline"
Contestants coming from eight states, including Alaska. Prizes valued at a quarter-million, donated by business firms and well-wishers. Seven colleges sending student-artists to the ice sculpture competition. Snow-moving equipment in three counties on standby, ready to build the rinks, race tracks, and snow barriers. Hospitality tents leaving Minneapolis by truck on Monday. Fifteen thousand polar-bear buttons already delivered. Jim Qwilleran lined up as grand marshal of the torchlight parade. Volunteers needed for hospitality tents and traffic control.
"Need any indoor volunteers?" Wetherby Goode called out. "I can't stand the cold."
After the applause and the grand rush for the exit, Qwileran and Ernie Kemple stayed behind. "How goes it?" Qwilleran asked in a warmly sympathetic tone.
"Tracy's in the hospital. She tried to OD. Vivian's flying home from Arizona. That Carter Lee James is a heel! He's been trying to use Tracy to get us to sign up for his project. Last night she found out in the cruelest way. She was assigned to wait on his table at the Boulder House. It turned out to be his wedding party! He'd married the Duncan woman, who has a house on our street."
"I know," Qwilleran said. "I was there, and I just want to tip you off; there'll be a big spread on the wedding in today's paper."
"Oh, God! I'll be glad when Vivian gets home. She's coming in on the five o'clock shuttle. Tracy won't talk to me. I'd warned her, but she wouldn't listen, so now she hates me because I was right. Can't win!"
"They have to make their own mistakes," Qwilleran murmured as if he were an expert on parenting.
"You don't know how hard it is," Kemple said, "to stand by and see them go over the cliff. This is her second disappointment. She should've stayed with Lenny. She'll never get him back now... but here I am, dumping my woes on you again."
"Don't apologize," Qwilleran said. "I'm really concerned."
He was, too. There were increasing tremors on his upper lip.
-14-
After the Boosters' luncheon, Qwilleran killed time until three o'clock, reading out-of-town newspapers at the public library. He was waiting for a chance to talk to Lenny Inchpot at his mother's restaurant. At three o'clock he bought a copy of the something and took it with him to Lois's Luncheonette, where he dawdled over apple pie and the local news. The wedding was handled as a photo feature with a minimum of text:
VALENTINE WEDDING IN THE VILLAGE
Lynette Duncan of Pickax and Carter Lee James of New York City were united in marriage Tuesday evening in a Scottish wedding at the Indian Village clubhouse. Witnesses for the couple were Polly Duncan and James Qwilleran. The Reverend Wesley Forbush officiated.
The photos were credited to John Bushland: a close-up of the bride and groom; the wedding party in front of the fireplace; the oatcake ritual; the bride making the first cut in the wedding cake with a Scottish dirk; and a group shot of guests in tartans and Brodie with his bagpipe.
When the last customer had left and the Closed sign was hung in the window, Lenny started mopping the floor. Qwilleran went to the kitchen pass-through and shouted at Lois, "Permission requested to speak to the mop-jockey on matters of vital importance."
"Go ahead," she yelled back, "but make it snappy. He's got work to do."
"Park the mop, Lenny, and sit down for a few minutes," Qwilleran said. "Did you hear that Tracy Kemple's in the hospital?"
"No! What happened?"
"Nervous breakdown. Have you seen today's paper?" He opened it to the wedding page. "The bridegroom is Carter Lee James."
"Oh-oh!" Lenny said with a gulp. "Tracy thought she was on the inside track with that guy. I guess it was wishful thinking."
Or, Qwilleran thought, deliberate misrepresentation. "Do you know how she met him?"
"Sure. He was trying to sell the Kemples on signing up for his big project. It meant paying a lot of money up front, and Ernie wasn't keen on the deal. To me, Carter Lee sounded like a sharpie, but Tracy was impressed by the houses he'd had published in magazines... You know, Mr. Q, I've been suspicious of strangers ever since that smooth talker with a bunch of flowers blew up the hotel last year. Where I made my mistake with Tracy - I told her I thought Carter Lee was a phoney. That was a dumb thing to do. I should've kept my big mouth shut. All it did was make her mad, and she told me to get lost... That's the story. Now what?"
"It's for you to decide. For starters, you might call Ernie and sympathize with him. He's feeling down."
"Yeah, I could do that. I always got along with Ernie."
"He's willing to appear at your hearing as a character witness. So am I."
"Honest? That's great, Mr. Q! And thanks for lining up Mr. Barter. He's a super guy!"
"Okay. See you in court."
When Qwilleran left the lunchroom, Lenny was swishing the mop around like a sleepwalker.
"Get with it!" his mother screamed. "Folks'll be comin' in before the floor's clean!"
Before going home, Qwilleran bought six copies of the Something for Polly to give Lynette on her return. He dropped them off at the library.