The Deadly Art of Love and Murder

by Linda Crowder

  “Did you check your phone? Maybe she sent you a text instead.”

  I pulled the phone out of my pocket. “Nothing.”

  Dan put his face next to mine and I felt his breath on the back of my neck. “Why don’t you call her?”

  I thumbed through my received calls until I found the one from Minnesota. “Dr. Jordan? It’s Caribou King. We’re at baggage claim.”

  “I’m sorry I’m so slow. I had to take a detour when I got off the plane.”

  “No problem. I was just hoping we hadn’t missed you.”

  “I’m just walking in. Where are you?”

  “Tall, skinny redhead standing by a pole.”

  “Next to the cute older guy in the leather jacket?”

  “That’s us. Where are you?”

  I heard her voice coming from off to the side as well as from the phone. “Right here.”

  We turned. A short, dark-haired woman who looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties, casually but smartly dressed, was smiling and waving at us, but there was something Mrs. Nash’s attorney hadn’t told us about this granddaughter and I almost dropped my phone. Dan put out a hand to steady me and I thought I recovered quickly, or at least I hoped so. I strode forward, extending my hand. “Welcome to Alaska, Dr. Jordan.”

  She grinned, pushing aside my hand and giving me a hug. “I’m a hugger. I hope it’s all right. I feel like I know you, as much as my grandmother talked about you and your family.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. We loved having your grandmother with us every summer, and your grandfather when he was still alive.”

  A shadow passed across her face, but only briefly. “It’s incredibly sad losing Gram like this.” She reached out a hand to Dan, without letting go of my waist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you out.”

  “Dr. Jordan, this is my friend, Dan Simmons.”

  “Olivia, please. I’m still getting used to the doctor part. You’d think after four years of med school and two years of residency, I’d stop looking around to see who they’re talking to when somebody asks for Dr. Jordan.”

  Dan took a step toward the belt, where luggage had begun trundling by. “If you’ll tell me what to look for, I’ll grab your bags.”

  She handed him her claim ticket. “It’s a soft-sided purple bag with red yarn tied on the handle.” She turned back to me as he went off to look for it. “Everybody in Minneapolis has a purple suitcase. I didn’t even think about it until I got off the plane the first time. I swear, the whole town’s a Vikings fan.”

  “You must be too.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t know a thing about football. I learned in self-defense.” She studied my face. “My grandmother never told you my father was black, did she?”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. “I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a horrible person.”

  “Prejudice runs deep, but what matters is whether we act on it.” She squeezed my hand. “Let’s put it on the shelf until we know each other better. It won’t spoil for sittin’ a spell. That’s what my mama used to say and she was almost always right.”

  “Is your mother from the South?”

  “She moved to Tennessee when she got married. She lived there for thirty-three years until cancer took her.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m just about used to it now.”

  Dan rejoined us, carrying a violently purple suitcase, and we went to find a cab to take us back to the marina. “Have you been to Alaska before, Dr. Jordan?”

  “Call me Olivia, please. I’ve never had the pleasure, though the way Gram talked, it sounded like heaven.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me. I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never wanted to be anyplace else.”

  “It’s a bit grim today,” I said, nodding at the clouds that had once again swallowed the mountain, “but we should have calm seas for the trip home.”

  “How far is Coho Bay?”

  “A few hours.”

  “And we’re going by boat?”

  “We have to. You can’t drive to Coho Bay. You can’t drive to Juneau either, for that matter. We’re on an island, though it’s so big you’d never know it unless you were looking at a map.”

  She sat back and looked out at the city. The road from the airport skirted the Mendenhall Wetlands on one side and a residential area on the other. We passed a hospital and a salmon hatchery and Olivia commented on the lack of chain stores.

  “We have them,” I assured her. “Up along Lemon Creek and back east of the airport, but we like our Mom and Pop’s.”

  “How big is Juneau?”

  "Tiny compared to Minneapolis. We don’t have as many people in the whole state as you do in your city.”

  “I wasn’t complaining. I was thinking how nice it would be to work in an emergency room where every other case isn’t a gunshot wound.”

  Dan laughed. “We have our share of those, but it’s usually ‘cuz some idiot got drunk and put a load of buckshot in his buddy’s rear end.”

  “Dan speaks from experience,” I said. When she started to laugh I added, “Not because he’s been on the wrong end of a shotgun. He’s our one and only policeman so he gets all kinds of crazy calls.”

  “Oh, I get it. There isn’t much crime to keep you busy, I’d guess.”

  “Thank God. We see some shoplifting in the summer and get the odd pick-pocket or break-in, but mostly it’s hunting for lost hikers and responding to accidents of one kind or another.”

  The cab pulled up at the marina and we headed for the boat. Dan cast off and we stopped at the gas pump to fill up. One thing you don’t want to do is run out of gas in the middle of nowhere, especially in winter when a storm can blow up at a moment’s notice. Once we got out on open water, I throttled up and settled back in the pilot’s seat for the trip home.

  “Mrs. Nash was your mother’s mother?” I had to shout a bit to be heard over the motor.

  “Yes, although I didn’t know her until a few years ago.”

  “Really? Why is that?”

  “While she was away at college, my mother fell in love with a black man. When she told my grandfather she was going to marry him, she says he hit the roof.”

  “Just because he was black?”

  “It was the 1970’s and you didn’t see too many inter-racial couples outside of TV. My mother told me he threatened to disown her if she didn’t break it off.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Isn’t it? I can’t imagine somebody doing that now, but he was true to his word. My mother said he never spoke to her from the day she got married to the day he died. My dad was killed in an accident on his job, when I was just a little girl, but even then he wouldn’t take her call.”

  “What about your grandmother?”

  “I guess she must’ve gone along with him. I never had any contact until my mother died.”

  “You’ve had a lot of loss for someone so young.”

  She looked out at the water. The mountains met the waters of the passage in rugged coves and rocky shores. It would have been breathtaking on a clear day, but today the clouds hung low, shutting off the view. We passed a ferry headed north, but otherwise we were alone. “That was three years ago. Mama kept her cancer from me all through med school, but on my last break before I graduated, she was so thin and pale, she had to tell me.” She shuddered. “I called the hospital where I had been accepted for my residency and put it off. After she died, I found letters my grandmother had written after my grandfather died. She wanted so much to see us, to make amends. My mother never answered them, but by Gram kept writing. I don’t know why my mother didn’t throw them away.”

  The water was choppy, and my arms were getting sore. Dan stepped up behind me and put his hand on the wheel. “Why don’t you let me take a turn? You two go below and warm up.”

  I happily relinquished my seat. I ducked into the cabin and threw myself down on t
he tiny couch, leaving the bench on the other side of the cabin for Olivia. As she shut the hatch, the rain hit. “It might get a bit rough,” I warned her. “If you start to feel green, we can go back up. You get wet, but fresh air is the best cure for seasickness.”

  “I haven’t spent much time on the water,” she said, gripping the rail that ran along the wall beside her as the boat lurched. “I’ve done a little kayaking on the river, but I never seem to have any time. I’m okay so far.”

  “Before we get to Coho Bay, I should warn you about my mother.”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s on a crusade to get a doctor. The minute she heard about you, she started mapping out a plan to get you to stay.”

  Olivia laughed. “Thanks for the heads-up. You don’t already have a doctor?”

  “Not since Doc Tilamu died.”

  “Tilamu? Isn’t that the name of Gram’s house?”

  “One and the same.”

  “Gram never talked about the house except to say it was a little rustic.”

  “Truthfully, until her attorney called, we all thought Doc Tilamu’s kids inherited it. Mrs. Nash has been paying them rent. I was hoping you could tell me why.”

  The boat shook violently and she grabbed the rail again. “Gram and I had very little time together. We talked two or three times a month, but I’ve been working seventy hours a week. By the time I’d get home, all I wanted to do was sleep.”

  “I don’t know how doctors do that. I’d be asleep on my feet.”

  “There were days I probably was,” she admitted, “but every night, I’d cross another day off the calendar and know I was that much closer to being a doctor. Sometimes, that was the only thing that kept me going.”

  “What are you going to do when you finish?”

  “I don’t know. I was planning to move to Arizona. Gram was the only family I had.”

  “What about your father’s family?”

  “They weren’t much happier about the marriage than Mom’s. They didn’t disown us, but after my dad died, they just stopped coming around.”

  “That’s sad.”

  She shrugged. “I guess so. I’ve never had time to chase after people who weren’t interested in me. I wouldn’t have gone looking for Gram if I hadn’t found her letters.”

  “Maybe that’s why your mother saved them.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You look tired. Was it a bad flight?”

  She ran her hand through her hair. “I’ve been fighting just to stay upright. Gram...” She gulped, brushing a tear from her face. “We had such plans. I was going to take the next summer off. We were going to come up here together and... She said the place could use some fixing.”

  Her pain was so raw, it didn’t seem like the time to tell her just how much fixing the house needed. I listened to the thrum of the engine, letting the movement of the boat lull me to sleep. The change in the intensity woke me some time later, but I was alone in the cabin. I pushed myself off the couch and followed the sound of laughter onto the deck.

  Olivia was perched on the captain’s seat, steering the boat, her hair tied back and her eyes bright. “Hello, sleepyhead,” she greeted me as I climbed out of the cabin. “Dan told me about your bout with pneumonia. I thought we’d better let you sleep.”

  “I’m fine.” A yawn betrayed me.

  “You were right about the seasickness. Went away the minute I took hold of the wheel.”

  “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “If I’d known it was this much fun to drive a boat, I’d have tried it years ago.”

  Dan got up from the passenger seat, offering it to me. I smiled and slid into it, while he stood behind me. “You forget the fun part of it. Up here, it’s just something we do to get from one place to another.”

  “Speak for yourself,” I told him. “I loved taking Dad’s boat out on Thursdays, until the motor kept conking out on me and I’d have to row my way home.”

  “That boat must’ve been older than you are.”

  “Oh, easily.”

  “I thought this was your boat,” said Olivia. “The Sea Pallet, right? Sounds like an art dealer’s boat.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? It belonged to my friend Johnny, who was a painter. His dad gave it to me after Johnny died because he know our boat was dead in the water.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your friend.”

  “Everybody has losses to cope with.” I looked around for landmarks.

  “We’ll be at the mouth of the bay in twenty minutes or so,” said Dan.

  I nodded, watching Olivia. The tiredness had dropped away and she had lost ten years from her face. How sad that she was coming to Coho Bay to bury her grandmother, instead of spending the summer relaxing, exploring and getting to know each other. Why would Mrs. Nash kill herself when she was so close to repairing the damage done forty years ago? It didn’t make any sense. I looked at Dan and wondered if his thoughts echoed mine.

  “I should take over from here,” I said. “The entrance to the bay is trickier than it looks.”

  We traded seats. “Where do the cruise ships dock?”

  “The marina isn’t deep enough so they anchor in the middle of the bay, where it’s not only deep but wide enough for them to turn around. You can’t believe how little space those great big ships need to spin around in. They shuttle passengers in on tenders––lifeboats,” I added when she looked puzzled.

  I steered around a large rock formation and turned into the bay. It was late afternoon and the sun had already sunk below the horizon, leaving a dusky remnant just bright enough to see if you knew what you were looking at. I flipped on the boat’s cruising lights and watched lights flicker on here and there on shore, in greater number as we came closer to town.

  “It’s enchanting,” breathed Olivia, just barely loud enough for me to hear her over the motor. “Like a fairy city.”

  Dan snickered. “It’s pretty,” I offered, thinking it looked the same to me as it always did.

  Olivia smiled at us. “You two are spoiled, growing up with all this. I grew up in Memphis. It’s pretty enough, but it’s nothing like this.”

  “You had Elvis,” I said, cutting back the motor.

  “He died before I was ever a twinkle in my mother’s eyes.”

  I tried to look at my hometown through the eyes of someone seeing it for the first time, but it was too familiar. There were too many ghosts of myself and my sister, my friends and my parents, everywhere I looked. “I guess you never quite see home the way someone coming in from the outside does.”

  “Can you see the house from here? Gram said it has a beautiful view of the bay.”

  “You could if there was enough daylight.” I pointed at the homes on the far side of the water. I could just make out the outline of the house against the shore, but I doubted Olivia would be able to pick it out. “We’ll head over in the morning. Your grandmother was being charitable with her assessment of how much work it needs. I’m afraid no one’s put any money into it since Doc died.”

  “Could I see her?”

  I looked at Dan before answering. “Kenny would have taken her to the church, wouldn’t he?”

  “Let Cara get you settled in first and I’ll check on that. Where are you putting her?”

  “I could stay at Gram’s house.”

  “No, you wouldn’t want to do that. You can stay in my apartment.”

  “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

  “It’s no trouble. I can bunk at my sister’s place while you’re in town.”

  I eased the boat into the berth we’d vacated the day before and Dan jumped out to tie off. Olivia helped me button up the boat cover while he went ahead to drop off her suitcase and check on the church. We walked up the dock and climbed the steps to the wooden boardwalk. “That’s my gallery,” I said. “The apartment is upstairs. We'll head over to Mel’s first though. They’ll be holding dinner for us.”

  “It�
��s a beautiful building.”

  “Thank you. My dad and I swing a mean hammer, if I don’t say so myself.”

  “You built it yourself?”

  “You pretty much have to out here. We have a lumber mill, and there’s a terrific carpenter who makes cabinets and furniture, but a contractor would starve to death in Coho Bay.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a whole other world.”

  “I don’t have much experience to go by, but I’m with Dan. I wouldn’t want to live anyplace else.”

  “Your husband’s a nice guy. I don’t remember Gram mentioning you were married.”

  “Dan? He’s not my... We’re just... What gave you that idea?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “No. It’s just, we only started... I don’t think you could call it dating even. It’s not like there’s anywhere to go.”

  Olivia chuckled. “Hit a nerve, didn’t I? It’s the way he looks at you, the way you act together. Like you fit.”

  “We’ve known each other for years, that’s all.”

  “Is Dan from Coho Bay too?”

  “He was born and raised in Homer, then worked in Fairbanks, but he spent his summers here growing up, then his vacations once he was out of school.”

  We’d reached Mel’s by then, and swung around the building to the kitchen entrance since I knew the restaurant would be locked. I knocked, then opened the door, “I’m back, with company!”

  “We’re up here, Caribou.”

  I turned to Olivia. “That’s my mother. Remember––”

  “Twisting my arm to stay. Gotcha.”

  I led her up the stairs and into what was the new family room. “You guys are amazing! It looks finished.”

  “We saved some work for you,” my dad told me and I threw my arms around him.

  “I can’t believe how much you got done while I was gone.”

  “Frank was a big help,” he said, nodding his head toward the window, where Frank was leaning against the wall.

  “Caribou, where are your manners? Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Without waiting for me, Mom strode across the room and pulled Olivia into the room. “You must be Dr. Jordan. I’m Marcia King, Caribou’s mother. This is my husband, Robert, my other daughter, Melody and her husband Bentley Andrews.” She indicated each person in turn.