by Dana Mentink
He huffed. “I still think—”
“Jack will look into this accident or whatever it was. Right, Jack?”
“Absolutely.”
Monk put a hand on her shoulder. “But he may not have any luck, Ruthy. It’s not going to be easy going, is it, Jack?”
“No, honestly it’ll be another mountain to climb, but I’m used to that.”
Bryce snapped his fingers. “A mountain to climb. That’s what I’ve been trying to remember.”
They all stared at him.
He shook his head. “Don’t know why I didn’t come up with that earlier. I remembered where I saw Roxie’s picture before.”
Jack frowned. “Roxie Trotter?”
“Yeah. She used to live in Chicago. She was some sort of professional person, I think. I remember reading about her in the local paper because she was into mountain climbing. Made it to the top of Mt. McKinley in record time.”
“Roxie was a professional?” Ruth’s face crinkled in confusion, thinking about Roxie’s attempt to sell shells to the jeweler. “She seems to have fallen on hard times.”
“What are you thinking, Jack?” Monk said.
Jack replayed a few facts from Reggie’s murder in his mind. “I was just thinking that mountain climbing is an interesting sport. It requires lots of specialized equipment.” He zipped his jacket and said under his breath, “I wonder how good Ms. Trotter is at tying knots.”
In the morning, Ms. Trotter seemed to be doing her best to tie Jack in knots. She sat, burrowed down in her ragged jacket, cap pulled to her eyebrows. The look she gave him was hostile at best. “Give it your best shot, Detective. Try to prove I killed Reggie. The guy probably drowned on his own, out doing a night dive. Stupid.”
“He didn’t drown.”
She blinked, but her expression didn’t change. “Not my business how he died. I don’t really care anyway.”
Jack continued. “I’m not trying to prove you killed anyone. I just want to ask a few questions about your relationship with the deceased.”
“I think the deceased was nothing but trouble. I didn’t want him around my son, but since Eddie is dead, that was no longer an issue for me.”
“Why didn’t you want him around your son?”
“The same reason you wouldn’t want him around yours. Because he hung out with the wrong people, people who drove nice cars and carried wads of cash without doing an honest day’s work. Bad kind of people.”
“Can you give me any names?”
“No. That was back in Chicago, and it was a lifetime ago.”
Jack gave Nate an exasperated look.
Nate cleared his throat. “Say, Mrs. Trotter. I read somewhere you were a chiropractor. Still practicing? I’ve got a permanent kink in my neck.”
She raised a thick eyebrow. “Does it look like I’m still practicing? I lost my license, as you well know.”
“That’s a bummer. What happened?”
“Again, I’m sure you already know every minuscule fact about my life, so why go into it?”
Jack fixed her with a look. “Because it would be helping us out. Think of it as doing your civic duty.”
She glared at him for a moment. “I stole from some of my clients. Broke into their homes while they were on vacation. They didn’t press charges so I avoided doing time, but I lost my license to practice.”
“Really?” Nate tapped a pencil on the desk. “Seems like you had a pretty good client list. Business must have been good. Why jeopardize things by stealing?”
Her eyes glinted. “There’s never enough money to go around, is there?”
Nate nodded. “I guess not. Wonder why the cops didn’t charge you.”
Roxie heaved a sigh. “They thought I was trying to cover for someone. Seems somebody saw me at the time of the last robbery in the grocery store. Isn’t that just something? An alibi when I didn’t even want one.”
“And why didn’t you want one?” Jack said. “Folks aren’t usually eager to do jail time. Most of the people we meet are more inclined to try to run away from a conviction than welcome it.”
She shrugged. “I’m not most people.”
Jack consulted his notes. “I see you left Chicago after your son died.”
“I had nothing to keep me there. No business. No family. No reason to stay. I like the diving here, the fresh air, et cetera.”
Jack consulted his notes again. “You catch abalone and sell the meat and shells?”
“Yes. I’m sorry to disappoint, but I do it the right way, keep to my limit and no scuba tanks. Believe it or not, I respect wildlife. I’m not about to deplete the ecosystem for my own profit.”
Nate huffed into his mustache. “When did you take up mountain climbing?”
Roxie looked startled. “What?”
The easygoing smile never left Nate’s face. “Mountain climbing. You made it to the top of Mt. McKinley in twelve days. That’s awesome.”
“You are thorough, I’ll give you that. After my son died, I realized how quickly it can all go away so I decided to cut loose. I climbed in high school and college so it wasn’t too huge a learning curve.”
“But with one kidney,” Jack said. “Amazing.”
A brief smile lit her face. “Yes, it was amazing. It was the last amazing thing that’s happened to me in a long while and probably ever will again. Sometimes I look at the pictures just to prove to myself I really did it.”
“Do you know a lot about knot tying?”
“Some. Why?”
Jack showed her a picture of the knot.
She shrugged. “Sort of figure eight knot. Not one I would use.”
“Why?”
“It’s bulky. Why do you ask?”
Jack waited a second. “It’s the knot we found around Reggie’s neck.”
Her mouth fell open. “He was strangled?”
Nate nodded. “Yup.”
“So he really was murdered?”
“Really,” Nate repeated.
Her face settled back into its expressionless mask. “What do you know? All that trouble finally caught up to him. I guess there is justice for some people.”
After a few more routine questions, Jack told Roxie she was free to leave.
She smiled at the detective and officer. “Well, I guess that means there’s a murderer here in Finny. To think I moved here for some peace and quiet.”
Nate watched her go. “Well, Reggie found his peace and quiet. Too bad it came at the end of a rope.”
Jack suppressed a shudder as he picked up the phone. “Yeah, too bad.”
His fingers trembled a little as he dialed.
Bobby, Bobby. She was embedded in his heart and thoughts.
Thinking about her on the other end of the line made his breath catch. She picked up after the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Bobby, it’s Jack.”
“Hi, Jack.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m headed over for my shift at Uncle Monk’s. What’s up with you?”
“Working.”
“Finding the guy who tried to run Aunt Ruth down, I hope.”
“Trying as hard as I can.”
She sighed, a soft, fluttery sound. “Good. I think that person needs to do hard time in a rock quarry or something.”
“Well, we don’t have a rock quarry that I’m aware of, but I’ll see what I can do. So, uh, Bobby, I wanted to, to ask you—”
“Yes?”
“If you. . .wanted to show me some diving techniques.”
She laughed and then grew quiet. “You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“Today?”
“Sure. We could grab some lunch after.”
“No, Jack.”
His heart fell. “Why not?”
“Two reasons. One, diving isn’t something you learn on the fly. You need to take a class with a certified instructor. And two, I guess you’ve been inside all morning, but there’s a s
torm coming in. Looks like a good one. Not diving weather.”
He felt slightly relieved. No diving meant she wouldn’t have a reason to hang out with Ethan, either. “That makes sense. How about lunch anyway?”
“I need to work that shift so Monk can check on Ruth. Maybe another time.”
Her tone made it clear. There would not be another time. He’d blown it. “Look, Bobby—” The words tangled themselves up inside him, refusing to come out.
She finally broke the awkward silence. “I have a question for you.”
“Fire away.”
“Where is Ethan? You didn’t arrest him, did you?”
“No. As a matter of fact I need to talk to him.”
“Me, too.”
Jack stifled the urge to slam a hand on the desk. “What about?”
“Nothing important. He was supposed to meet me last night, and he never showed up.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ruth wasn’t sure if it was the nightmare that awakened her in the predawn hours of Tuesday morning, or the strange flittering movement in her womb. Monk sat bolt upright at her soft moan. He listened and stroked her back as she told about the car bearing down on her and Bryce amidst a squabble of clamoring birds. He fetched a cool cloth for her sweaty brow and brought the glass of orange juice she craved.
She settled back in bed, his big hand laid protectively on her shoulder, and fell into a more restful sleep until the phone rang at seven a.m.
“Hi, Nana Ruth. Is the baby here?” Cootchie’s breathing sounded loud across the phone lines.
Ruth sat up, a joy growing inside. She smiled, picturing the wild-haired little girl, and a happy warmth infused her.
“Hello, Cootchie. No, the baby isn’t here yet, but guess what?”
“What?”
“It’s two babies. I’m going to have twins.” For the first time it felt a bit less like a curse and more like a blessing.
The girl let out a cry. “Two babies? How do they fit? Does Uncle Monk have one in his tummy?”
Ruth covered the phone and repeated the comment to Monk, who was up and dressed. He laughed.
“You tell her my stomach is all muscle, no baby.”
Ruth chatted with her adopted granddaughter, feeling again the hole created by her absence. “How are you getting along in Arizona with Grandma Meg?”
“She’s made me a sandbox, but there’s no worms in the sandbox. Mommy wants to talk. Love you, Nana.”
“Love you, too, angel.” Ruth swallowed against the tears until Dimple came on the line.
“Hello, Ruth. Greetings of the morning.”
“Greetings right back at you, Dimple.” The woman had never seemed to give up her pattern of speaking in fortune cookie phrasing. Ruth filled her in on the twin situation.
“Twins? That will mean one for Cootchie to hold and one for me.”
“Sort of a buy one, get one free bonus. How are things in Arizona?”
“Dry. I’m just about finished.”
“Finished with what?”
“Packing. To come home.”
Ruth’s breath caught. “To—to come home? To Finny?”
“Yes. I am eager to get back to the mushroom farm.”
Dimple was the owner of Pistol Bang’s Mushroom Farm, which had lain idle since she left town after Cootchie’s brief abduction. Ruth was almost too overwhelmed with emotion to speak. “I didn’t think you’d be coming back so soon.”
“Cootchie will start school next fall. I should have the mushroom farm back up and running by then. Don’t you think?”
Ruth tried not to squeal with glee. “Oh yes. That’s very sensible.”
“I hear there has been another murder in Finny. Are you involved this time, too, Ruth? It seems these things have a way of coming home to roost on your doorstep.”
Thinking about the near accident two days before, she couldn’t stifle the shiver that crept up her spine. “It doesn’t involve me too much this time, I’m happy to say. When will you be back?”
“We will stay until after the surfing tournament at the end of the month.”
Ruth wracked her brain, thinking about desert surfing. “Um, I didn’t think there was much surfing in Arizona.”
“It’s Cootchie’s idea. She’s invited all the neighborhood kids to come for a party on Grandma Meg’s lawn. She intends to set up a Slip ’N Slide and serve doughnuts and mung bean sprouts.” Dimple paused for a moment. “I think perhaps the surfing part is an exercise in visualization.”
Ruth laughed. “If anyone can make a bunch of desert dwellers visualize the ocean, it’s Cootchie. I can’t wait to see you both.”
“We are anxious, too, especially to meet the babies. Have you thought of names?”
“Not yet.”
“I will put my mind to it and share my thoughts next time we talk.”
What would Monk think about a woman who christened her daughter Cootchie having a hand in picking his kids’ names? She hung up with a lighter heart. “They’re coming home,” she told Monk with a rush of joy.
He hugged her. “I’m so glad. It’s been far too long since we’ve seen our Cootchie, and Dimple, too. What can I fix my fine lady for breakfast?”
She glanced at the clock. “Nothing. You’re supposed to be at work, remember? Earning the money to pay for this arsenal of baby supplies?”
“My job today is to take care of you since Bryce is out of town.”
Bryce had left for his overnight trip to San Francisco to meet with a lawyer.
What followed was a fierce argument carried out in very civilized tones. It concluded with Ruth’s final statement. “Well, if you need to have me in your line of sight all day, then I’m just going to go to the shop with you. At least that way you’ll get some work done and maybe I can help in some way.”
He sighed. “All right, you can come but no helping, just resting and relaxing.”
Figuring that was the best she was going to get, she quickly dressed, rolled up the remaining pages of her script, and slipped them into her coat pocket before they headed off.
Monk conceded to at least let her stop at the Buns Up Bakery for a cinnamon roll, when the morning sickness let up. They ducked into the store and out of the light drizzle. As Al delivered his treasure along with a carton of milk, she noticed Monk casting anxious glances at the people waiting on the wet sidewalk outside his shop door for it to open.
She sat firmly at a table. “Go. I will eat my roll and walk carefully over to your shop after looking both directions twice. I promise.”
He folded his arms, brow wrinkled in thought. “Well, I guess it would be okay for you to stay here for a few minutes, but I don’t want you crossing by yourself. Call me when you’re ready and I’ll escort you.” Half reluctantly, half eagerly, he went.
Feeling like a five-year-old, Ruth settled into munching with a sigh of relief. The clouds were gathering into a solid gray wall outside. She pulled the stretched and misshapen sweater around her and attacked her carbohydrate missile with vigor.
Dr. Soloski came in and ordered an herbal tea.
“Oh, good morning, Mrs. Budge. Your husband’s shop was closed so I came here. Someone told me you had some trouble Sunday night. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Probably just a careless driver. No harm done.”
“That’s good.” He cast a nervous glance out the window.
“Won’t you sit down and join me?” Ruth pushed out a chair.
“No, I really should be getting back to work.” A tall figure with wiry hair stalked past the window, in the direction of the dentist’s office. He shrank a little as Ellen sailed by without noticing him. “On second thought, it wouldn’t hurt to take a few minutes.” He slid into the chair. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something anyway.”
“Go ahead.”
“Ellen says you’re working with the college man. Ethan, I think his name is, on a project of some sort.”
“Yes, he’s filming a documentar
y.”
“I just wondered—not my place to say really—”
“What is it?”
“Well, is he taking underwater footage?”
“He says he isn’t. After Reggie, uh, died, he promised they wouldn’t be attempting anything in the ocean.”
“Odd. I’ve seen him in the water twice now, near sunset. Foolish, if you ask me. The waves are rough and visibility is poor with the thick kelp forest we’ve got here. It’s purely suicide to think about a night dive.”
“You’re not the first person who has noticed him diving. Maybe it’s recreational. Are you sure it was Ethan?”
“I guess it could have been someone else. Young, fairly trim male.” He shook his head and straightened his glasses. “I shouldn’t spend time on worrying about somebody else’s problems.”
Ruth noticed the shadows under his eyes and the pale cast to his thin face. “Forgive me for saying so, but you look tired. Is everything okay with your sister?”
He heaved a sigh. “As okay as it gets. She’s been disabled since birth, a child in a grownup body. I go to see her as often as I can, but she’s generally out of it most of the time. She has respiratory issues as well and a load of other complaints that I won’t bore you with.”
“Oh dear. How awful for you both.”
“I’ve gotten used to it. Jane was seventeen when mother died, so I’ve been on duty since then.”
Ruth couldn’t hide her surprise. “Then your sister is quite young.”
“She’ll be twenty-one next month. Mother didn’t think she could have any more children. Jane was her miracle child, disabled or not.”
Ruth thought she detected a hint of jealousy in his voice. “It must have been quite a shock.”
He sipped some tea. “Mmm. I was in my early twenties when she was born. My parents persuaded me to give up the tree business and start on something more respectable, so I changed directions and went to dental school.”
“That’s a big switch.”
He gave a rueful smile. “I miss it, but it was a practical decision. Hospital bills aren’t cheap and insurance will only take you so far.” His face brightened. “Things will be better next month, though. Janey’s trust fund kicks in when she’s twenty-one.” He laughed. “Maybe then I’ll be able to take up tree climbing again.”