by Ron Hess
Just then Ashley walked in without knocking.
“What?” I asked with what I hoped was my “don’t you ever knock” glare.
“There’s a man at the back door with a mean-looking old German Shepherd,” she said with her best honey-dripping Southern belle style.
“Very well. I’ll go see what he wants,” I answered. I walked through the maze of cases and shelves with Ashley in tow, which, of course, drew everyone’s attention. Something was going on. I could feel the anticipation rise in the room. I had a hunch my favorite postal inspector was behind what was about to happen. And for once, I agreed with him.
When my parade and I arrived at the back door, I took a quick squint through the peephole. Ashley was right. There stood a dog handler I knew from Anchorage, and sure enough, there stood one mean-looking old German shepherd beside him.
I turned to Ashley and gave her my fake friendly smile. “You might want to back up a little. I know this dog. He gets a mite predatory at times in strange places.”
Her face pinched a little, but she did as I ordered.
I waited until she was about twenty feet away from the door before opening it.
“Hello, Andy.”
“Hello yourself, Leo,” he said. His blue eyes smiled behind his set of wire-rims. Andy had gotten a little rotund the last few years and was the only guy I knew in the Postal Service who got away with wearing his old Vietnam unit’s baseball cap. He was a good man, a family man, and one you could trust behind your back. We went back a long ways—clear to Vietnam. He had been a dog handler there also. He was one example of how friends’ lives can crisscross from time to time. Never, after Nam, did I expect to see him again. I had first run into him years ago in Anchorage on another drug case. We weren’t close friends, but each of us kept track of the other’s doings in the Postal Service.
“I guess you want to look the place over?” I asked.
He grinned. “Yes, Mr. Crouch wanted me and Zippy to have a look-see.”
I nodded and sighed. “Come on in,” I said, and motioned them to enter. “Has old Zippy been to the bathroom, I hope?”
It was an old joke between the dog handlers and postal people. Nothing can be more trying than a dog thinking he sees a fire hydrant. Andy raised his eyebrow and nodded. Zippy, I swear, glared resentfully at me for a moment. I watched as man and dog walked slowly up and down cases and shelves filled with boxes. I have always marveled how a dog can discern the smell of “weed” or coke from all the other smells. German Shepherds are about the best with noses five hundred times more sensitive than humans.
After about twenty minutes of searching, Andy and Zippy wandered over to me by the door. “We haven’t found anything as yet. How about I turn Zippy loose to look around by himself? Sometimes he does better on his own. I call it dog intuition.”
“He won’t bite anybody, will he?” I was feeling good that morning.
Andy just shook his head, and Zippy yawned, showing me his teeth. What that meant I had no idea. I looked at the employees in front of the cases, hoping they weren’t squeamish about a dog sniffing around. But if there were drugs, we needed to find them.
“Sure, go ahead.”
Andy removed the leash, muttered a command, and Zippy started at a fast walk, nose to the floor. We watched as he retraced his steps over the floor. I could tell some of the women were not too happy having a big dog sniffing around their cases, but it was necessary. From across the floor, Martha gave me a glare that would fry an egg.
To pretend I wasn’t feeling the heat, I asked, “Can he smell stuff on people if they’ve been handling drugs?”
“Oh yeah. I’ve seen Zippy pull off some great finds. He is so darn smart. But he’s getting older. It won’t be but a year or two before we retire him. He . . . ” An excited yip came from a storage locker by the wall. It was the same place I had found the box with the prop. Zippy was so excited that Andy had to pull him from behind the locker. While Andy patted the dog, I looked. Sure enough, there sat a small box wrapped in brown paper about six inches square. Without further ado, I put on some plastic gloves and carefully extracted it. Naturally, everybody crowded around, wanting to know what was going on.
I held it up. “Just a small box, everyone. Please go back to your cases. You’ll no doubt hear in the near future what’s in it.”
There was mumble here and there. Mumbles that meant, “Yeah, sure, just like the post office always does.”
I waited until everyone had drifted back to work and then to motioned Ashley. She came over with the appropriate concerned look on her face.
“Go to the office and give the postal inspectors a call,” I said. “But first, go tell Andy not to leave until I talk with him.”
She nodded and left to do my bidding. That left me standing there with the package. I looked at the return address and, sure enough, it had the address of the parts place in Portland. Presumably, it was addressed to another boat owner here in town. It was interesting to me that another package had come through so quickly after the previous attempt and the fact that it had been left in the same place. Evidently, the suppliers were anxious to make up for lost revenue.
Andy ambled over. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah, don’t leave for Anchorage until I find out from Crouch what to do with this package. It may be he’ll want you to bring it back.”
“Sure thing. I think I’ll go outside and walk my dog,” he answered.
I looked up to see Ashley motioning at me. I nodded and walked to the office.
“He’s on the phone,” she said.
“Good,” I said, “I’ll take it from here.”
I walked into the office, closed the door, set the box down where I could keep an eye on it and picked up the phone.
“Well, Bronski, looks like you have an active supply house going there.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”
He went on to say that the Postal Service had yet to come up with anything down in Portland. An undercover man was going to take a job with the parts house to see if he could dig up anything. Meantime, I was to keep my eyes open for every package that came from the warehouse. We agreed it would be wise to keep what info we had close to the chest, especially since it looked like one or more of the employees were mixed up in this scheme. “By the way, just go ahead and send the package you have up with Andy.”
Sure thing,” I said and we rang off.
For once, old Crouch had seemed almost human. I decided not to strain my brain wondering why. There was a knock at the door.
“What?” I growled.
“Andy wants to know if he can leave now,” Ashley said quietly.
“Tell him to hang on, I’ll be right there.”
I proceeded to put the box into a plastic garbage bag I had in a bottom drawer of my desk. With that done I went to the back door and handed it over to Andy. “Make sure this gets into Crouch’s hands and his only, okay?”
“Sure thing, Leo,” he said with a smile. That was only one of the things I liked about him. He was always friendly, even in the most trying of circumstances.
Chapter 17
I loved basketball. Back at Howes Bluff, I regularly played a game of one-on-one with Jimmy, a young friend of mine. He was so darn quick and fast. Why he deigned to play with me was beyond my comprehension, but play he did, and made a better man out of my old alcoholic self. What with all the problems in Fire Bay, I had forgotten about the good times basketball had given me. So when one of the employees mentioned a basketball game that very night, I thought, why the hell not? It was to be the Alumni against the high school team. Although it was way early in the season, the idea was to give the high school team experience for the coming regular season. Besting the Alumni team was considered a good omen.
High school gyms and courts are all pretty much alike, but that’s what makes it good in these old United States. What makes Alaskan games different from Midwest games is that because of the
distances involved, the home bleachers are chock full while the visitor side is, well . . .sparse. It makes one wonder why the building doesn’t tip over.
Come seven p.m. I sat about halfway up in a bleacher seat, bag of popcorn, Coke, and Babe Ruth candy bar at the ready. The candy bar was to be used only for an emergency, like if the visitors, meaning the Alumni were five points ahead, a real disaster if there ever was one. I sat there happy as a clam, munching away, when I heard a familiar Southern accent.
“Why, hi, Leo, you mind if I sit here?”
I groaned inwardly. I had hoped this night would be a one-man show, with maybe a late-night call to Jeanette. But it was not to be; instead I put on a fake smile, and said, “Sure, Ashley. Sit down. Want some popcorn?”
“Why thank you, Leo.” She took all of five kernels in her lily-white hands with their bright red fingernails. “Don’t you love to watch all this energy? All these young men running back and forth are enough to tire a person out.”
I munched and mumbled a reply as we watched the players warming up. If she kept this up, she’d have me thinking that basketball was as ridiculous as football.
It was then I saw an interesting sight. It was Chief Wattle pushing a wheelchair ahead of him with a small boy in it, looking for a front row seat. He found one when a home player scooted over to let the boy sit with him on the home bench.
I cleared my throat. “I didn’t know the chief had a son.”
“Yes, isn’t it a shame? I understand the medical bills are just horrendous for the poor chief. His son was injured when a car ran right over him.”
“Do tell,” I replied, and wondered how she knew that, since she was new in town.
“Yes, they’ve had banquets and various fund raising events, trying to pay the medical bills. The insurance just isn’t enough.”
As if sensing we were talking about him, the chief looked up into the crowd and waved at us. I waved back and tried to smile. I felt for him. Being the parent of such a child couldn’t be easy. Ashley gave an enthusiastic wave and a big “hi!” The chief, for his part, gave me a bemused smile and a raised eyebrow. Or was that a smirk I saw?
I looked around to see if anyone else noticed, and it was then I saw Ms. Emily Jems just two rows back and a couple of seats over. She was dressed in her black-striped business suit and had her notepad out. I wondered which column I would be in when the weekly came out. Her black eyes caught me looking, and a small smile formed around her teeth. What the smile said, I had no idea. I turned around with a sigh and wished mightily that I was in my room reading a book.
The game was definitely not boring. By halftime, I was nearly exhausted from yelling. Ashley went berserk from time to time. She yelled at the referees with total abandonment. She was now eating my popcorn by the greedy handful. I was not so involved in the game that I didn’t notice a few looks of what I took to be amusement at this Southern newcomer.
“Y’all can’t do that!” came through loud and clear. A couple of the refs cast an inquiring eye up into the stands a number of times. She was not hard to spot—hands on hips with that petulant little-girl look. On impulse, I turned to look up at Ms. Jems in her business suit. Her smile was now wider. Somehow, I knew there would be a comment in the local paper about the newcomer’s rowdy behavior at the Friday night game.
Halftime came and I got up to stretch my legs and to get some more popcorn. Ashley made noises about talking to some friends, which was just fine with me. I could only hope the second half would be quieter. I had no desire to be cast as the town’s bad boy. By the time I got to the restroom though, I could see that the reputation of the local Postal Service employees was already made. Winks and headshakes abounded. What the hell was Ashley trying to prove?
On my way back to the stands, I purchased some more popcorn and another Coke. Maybe keeping her mouth full would slow her down a little. I found her back already in our seats. I took a deep breath, handed her the popcorn, and prayed she wouldn’t make such a spectacle during the second half.
* * *
Whether it was my prayer or she was tired out, I never knew. Except for a few muttered asides to me, she was quiet as a fence post during the second half. All around us though, I could sense people looking at us from time to time, wondering when Ashley would let go. I even noticed Chief Wattle take a quick look in our direction. The game ended with the high school team winning by a few points. It had been a good game, but because of Ashley’s noise I enjoyed little of it. I gathered up my popcorn bag and stood up to leave, prepared to tell Ashley I would see her Tuesday morning, since Monday was her day off.
“Thanks for the popcorn, Leo. Say, I’m having some people over after the game. Why don’t you come?”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” I started to say, with Jeanette on my mind.
“Come on, Leo. You have to get out into the community, right? To show the flag and all?”
I could call Jeanette from Ashley’s. “Sure,” I said.
Chapter 18
There were more than just a few people at Ashley’s house, which surprised me. I thought she would be living in a temporary apartment, but here she was, mistress of a three-bedroom, almost new home. And well appointed too. Maybe from a divorce? There was a mystery here, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. She introduced me around to various locals, and again I was surprised at how many people she knew. I caught her in the kitchen cutting more cheese. “How did you meet all these people so soon?”
“Oh, the Internet. It’s a local club. You know, singles and young marrieds. I just met most of them last week. I decided to make this my coming out party. It’s going well don’t you think?”
I had to agree that it was. Soon she would know everybody in town that was good for her politics. What that might be I had no idea. I left her cutting cheese and made for a corner in the living room where a phone resided.
“Leo?”
“Hi, sweetheart, it’s me,” I said, just as someone let out a big “har, har.”
“Where . . . where are you?”
“I went to a basketball game tonight, and then Ashley came up and asked me over with a few friends.” I winced as I told this little lie, but I felt I knew what I was doing. After all, didn’t I have to get to know members of the community?
“How’s things going there?” I asked.
“Oh, okay.”
“That doesn’t sound all that great.”
“Jimmy came in drunk today.”
My heart fell clear down to my toes. Jimmy was the one kid that I absolutely knew could make something of himself.
“Oh no,” I said. There was a moment’s pause, while I tried to immerse myself back into the village away from the loud laughter and the one-up-man-ship going on in the room.
“Was this a first time?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, you tell that young man that when I come home, he and I are going to have a heart-to-heart talk,” I said. There was another, “har, har,” from one of the party types. It was no good, talking to her now.
“Look, Hon, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“All right, Leo. Be careful . . . husband.”
I hung up, wishing I were elsewhere.
“Everything okay, Leo?”
It was Ashley. She probably had seen the furrows on my forehead.
I shook my head slowly and attempted a smile. “Problems in the village. A young friend of mine was seen drunk today. I don’t want him to go down the same road as his mother.”
“It hurts when people don’t live up to our expectations, doesn’t it, Leo?” she said, and handed me a drink.
I nodded. “Yes, yes, it does.”
“Talk to you later,” she said, and moved on to talk to a city councilman. I watched as she walked away, thinking how shrewd she was. I hoped the city councilman would be left with a good impression of the Postal Service. But then, with Ashley’s charm, how could he not? Without thinking, my hand propelled the drink up to my lips an
d I took a big jolt. God almighty, it tasted good. Jack Daniel’s too. How did Ashley know Jack Daniel’s was my downfall? But maybe it was coincidence, right? Yeah, that’s it, a happenstance. I closed my eyes. I should not be doing what I was doing.
That little rascal, Jimmy. I’d give him a good talking to when I got back. I gulped another mouthful and let it swirl around in my mouth for a moment. God, it was good. I glanced around to see what was going on. People were starting to leave. Good, so would I. It would be a shame, though, to waste such good whiskey. Might as well finish it. Hmm . . . I was feeling a little dizzy. I decided to sit down.
I sat down on a nearby sofa and tried to keep my eyes open. I was still conscious enough to be able to smile and nod my head. I worried a bit about being perceived as antisocial. All the while, I wondered what was in my drink. I hadn’t drunk more than a fourth of a water glass. I shouldn’t be that dizzy. Oh well, there’s always a first time. Good thing there was a side table close by with a coaster. I very gingerly set my drink down, still wondering what the hell was going on. I forced myself to stay awake until I was dimly conscious of the last guest leaving. Then I could fight it no longer, and knew nothing but blackness and a voice.
“Is he out?”
Chapter 19
I came to, staring at a sea of white made more than white by the sunshine flashing its way through an open window surrounded by frilly lace curtains. I felt a foreboding even before I realized I was not in my bed.
I lay motionless for a few seconds, trying to come to grips with my present situation. My eyes moved over to a white dresser on the opposite wall. Its surface was covered with an array of little jars, vials, and tubes. Cosmetics! Oh damn. Then I noticed the smell. Was it perfume or the aftermath of something else? I turned over on my back and became conscious of quiet breathing beside me. Oh damn. I didn’t want to look, but I had to. I slowly rotated my head ninety degrees to the left. Oh, damn. There lay Ashley on her stomach all tousled in white sheets. It didn’t take much to guess she had nothing on and lifting the sheet, I discovered I didn’t either. Oh . . . damn.
