Murder at Fire Bay

by Ron Hess

  Her head tilted up and her eyes flashed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I sat back in my chair and stared down at my clasped hands, knuckles going white.

  “You don’t recall telling me on the phone that you would handle it? You must remember Bill lane?”

  She practically sneered as she held up the photograph. “No.”

  “Then why don’t you go find it, Ashley.”

  “I . . . .”

  “That’s a direct order, Ashley.”

  Her mouth turned down. The hate literally poured from her eyes. That she slammed the door on her way out bothered me not a bit. I was troubled, though, thinking she might know I had a tape recorder. Was it a guess on her part? I had to believe it was and that I was dealing with a smart, devious woman, who had many experiences dealing with human relationships, both personal and professional. Very well, I would have to take other more devious steps myself. I stood up, stretched, and walked out of the office onto the main floor. I noted with something akin to pleasure that the new kid, or should I say, “man person,” was already busy at a case. Ashley might be a she-devil, but she knew how to organize. I wandered over to his case. Letters and first class mail were flying into their respective slots. I wondered about mistakes and just how long he could keep up the speed. Martha looked slow in comparison.

  “I see Ashley already has you at work.”

  His hands slowed their ballet for a few seconds. “Yes, sir. She said we could do the proper intake later, that the needs of the service came first.”

  I nodded and smiled. “Yes, of course.” I moved on.

  The room was quiet as a tomb except for the mail slapping the sides of the slots. I wondered what the troops were thinking. I hoped mightily they weren’t thinking mutinous thoughts. I came to Martha’s case and murmured, “Well, did you see the new man?”

  She gave me what had become a trademark of hers—a raised eyebrow.

  “Yes,” she murmured back. She gave me another look. “We need to talk—in private.”

  Her eyes moved from left to right, obviously looking for some unseen enemy.

  I raised my eyebrows. This was almost funny. “Now?” I whispered.

  Her head nodded most emphatically.

  I sighed and nodded back. “Let’s go to my office.”

  I turned and left for my office with her close on my heels.

  “Where are you two going?”

  It was Ashley, the queen bee controller.

  “To my office, is that okay?” I said, without stopping to even look in her direction.

  There were snickers in the background. Maybe I had won a small point. But with someone like Ashley, small points don’t count in a war. Martha followed me into my office and I closed the door. I sat down at my desk and motioned Martha to take a chair.

  “What’s this all about?” I asked.

  Martha sat and let out a long breath. I guessed this was not going to be easy

  “I need to turn in a grievance at step two.”

  Now this did take me by surprise. “Whatever for?” I asked.

  “For management doing too much union work, that’s what!”

  There it was, an old bugaboo that’s haunted the Postal Service for years, especially in smaller offices. While a certain amount is allowed at times, the union gets upset if it continues in a regular fashion. Trying to keep a calm face, I asked, “Did you put in a step one?”

  Martha grimaced. “Yes, and it was thrown back in my face with a laugh!”

  I tried to keep from frowning. Ashley was going to bring the house down on us.

  “Okay, Martha. I’ll look into it.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You better. Just who in hell does she think she is? If this keeps up, nothing will get done. I am telling you, the troops are angry at her high-handed ways. Can’t you make her stop?”

  I looked directly into her eyes.

  “I said I’d look into it, Martha. I can’t promise any more than that. I think we better terminate this meeting!”

  She got up from her chair and stormed out the door, closing it with a bang, mumbling about management being all alike. If only I could tell her the full story, but I couldn’t, of course. Now came the real fun. I wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation with the queen. With a heavy heart I picked up the phone, punched the numbers for the loudspeaker, and asked Ashley to come to the office. I sat back in my chair with folded hands and waited all of ten seconds before she came bursting through the door. She gave me a glare that would eat nails.

  “Close the door, softly, would you, Ashley?”

  To my surprise, she did just that, although I’m sure it took some control.

  “All right, Bronski, what’s going on?”

  By now she had folded her arms across her chest and moved around to the front of my desk. I gestured to the chair.

  “Sit.”

  “No, I’d rather stand.”

  I rolled my eyes and went on. “Ashley, I was just handed a step two grievance about you doing union work. Why wasn’t I informed about the problem in the first place? Now we’ll have to work twice as hard to smooth things over. Or is it that you just don’t care, since you’ll be long gone, one way or the other?”

  The queen spoke. “Bronski, you still don’t know who’s in charge around here, do you? I’ll leave when I get good and ready to leave. You see, Bronski, I found out you’re a drunk and you have little credibility with the Boss.” She sneered. “Your pitiful efforts to discredit me are a laugh. The Boss told me to keep a close eye on you. That you could go on a binge at any time. As for that little grievance, just shove it in your desk. Dear sweet Martha will get tired after a while and move it on to step three and that will take months to resolve. Bronski, you could have been rich, but for some stupid reason you choose to be dumb.”

  She turned on her heel and left, the door banging its protest. I sat back in my chair, a little bit stunned. Had the Boss really told her that, or had she nosed around in Anchorage and found out about my drinking before coming down here? I refused to believe the Boss had told her to keep an eye on my potential drunk problems. After all these years . . .I shook my head, warding off those thoughts.

  Chapter 26

  I checked my watch. Noon, time to go feed the old bod. I grabbed my coat. I had to get out of the office before another catastrophe came down on me, like another customer complaining about parts. Before I ate, though, I stopped by the local drug store and bought another tape recorder. The war was not yet over and I intended to go down fighting.

  Coming out of the store, I checked to see if Ralph or his car was in sight. I was gratified to see he wasn’t there. Maybe Ashley hadn’t had time to get Ralph on my trail. I sincerely hoped not.

  Lost in thought, I gave the Jeep its head and, wouldn’t you know, I ended up in the parking lot of the Eat More. Happenstance has always intrigued me. Why do we go to a certain place without obvious guidance? Who plants these notions in our head? Well, never mind, I was there. Upon entering, I made a quick check of the tables, which were mostly full. If I had seen Ralph or Wattle sitting at one, I do believe I would have turned tail and left. Since neither was there, I made for the table where the raven-haired woman sat munching slowly on a sandwich while she read a romance novel. I felt a momentary tug in my heart for her, as I might for a daughter or sister who might never know a real love. I wondered if a good plastic surgeon couldn’t fix her mouth.

  “Ah . . .Emily,” I began.

  A trace of a smile came to her face. “Ah . . .Mr. Bronski.”

  “That’s Leo, to you.”

  I decided not to go into my litany of Mr. Bronski taking too much time to say. Instead I sat down without being invited. She put her book away and regarded me with a smile, buckteeth and all. And I thought I could be just a tiny bit in love with her vulnerability.

  “How goes it?” she said.

  “Uh . . .so, so,” I answered, and in a lowered voice caught her up to date abo
ut my actions at the post office.

  “I have been doing some checking about Ashley,” she said. “Her last station was in Miami. She was not well liked and was transferred under a cloud of suspicion.”

  “Oh really?” I said. This was beginning to sound good.

  “What kind of suspicion?”

  Emily looked around and leaned forward. “Drugs.”

  “Whom did you talk to?” I asked.

  “Hey, Mr. Postmaster, you want something to eat?”

  I looked up to see the sweaty waitress standing there. She was one notch shy of being rude, but maybe if I worked in a too-warm place full of people, I’d be short-tempered too. So, keeping calm, I ordered a sandwich. I wondered if she reported to Wattle about me. Emily watched her walk back to the kitchen, before going on with her story.

  “The Union steward in the Miami office.”

  “Amazing!” I said. “You actually got to talk to the steward?”

  “Yes, she said her boss was out of the office. She said Ashley had tried to get her fired.”

  The sandwich slammed down in front of me. “Anything else, Mr. Postman?”

  I looked up and put on my biggest smile. “Yes, a coffee. And you can call me Leo.”

  Her voice softened a little.

  “Sure thing, Leo.” Off she went.

  “Do not trust her. I think she tells Wattle when she hears something she thinks might interest him.”

  I looked back at Emily.

  “It was nothing they could prove,” she said, “but the O.I.C. wanted her out and a deal was struck. The steward said the employees wanted to kill Ashley.”

  “I’m not surprised,” I murmured. We went on making small talk. Before I left, I thanked Emily for the info. If I had my way, the noose was going to keep on getting tighter around Ashley’s pretty neck.

  Emily daintily dabbed a crumb from the corner of her mouth and made ready to go. We said our goodbyes after agreeing on another date to meet, and off she went. Just in time too, as Ralph came sauntering in the door.

  I gave him a nod and wondered if he had spent half his lunch hour searching the town for me. The thought gave me a good feeling. He ordered his meal in a voice that I did not hear at the post office. At the post office he seemed mellow, almost wimpy, but not here. This voice and the way he carried himself were full of confidence. There was no doubt about it; this voice was the one I heard that night at the party, the one that said, “Is he out?”

  I paid my bill and left. This time the waitress gave me a small smile, which I counted as a small victory for me. Her smile let me know again that if you treat a person with respect and dignity, you’ll most likely get back spades full of friendliness.

  Ashley was not at the office when I got there, which made me angry, as my lunch hour was from noon to 1:00 o’clock and her lunch hour began after I got back. It was my rule that either she or I was to be in the building at all times. Especially around noon, when an irate customer might come banging on my door.

  Out on the main floor I meandered close to Martha’s case. Again, one of those happenstance things.

  Without missing a beat in her sorting, she asked, “Have you decided anything about that step two?”

  I sighed; now wishing old happenstance had kept to itself. “No, not yet,” I replied, “but I will.”

  “Uh huh” was her reply, and not a word more. Her letters seemed to hit the case a little harder.

  I wandered on, saying hello to Abby, who gave me her big smile. I loved that smile, because it had no deceit in it. It was what you saw. I slowly made my way back to the office, stopping one more time to chat with the new guy, Sam Goodnight, in the box section.

  “How’s things going?” I asked.

  “Okay,” he said. The envelopes kept on slapping their way into the various boxes.

  “Anything I can do to help you settle in your new apartment?”

  I had heard he was taking an apartment not too far from Ashley’s house. What this meant, I had no idea. Probably nothing, I hoped. I did not want her to put a spell on this new kid. I wanted him to remain whole and in one piece.

  He stopped a second and gave me a smile. “Thanks, sir, but I am pretty much moved in.”

  He went back to slapping the mail into its respective boxes.

  I turned and looked out onto the main floor. Seeing that everybody was in his or her place, I returned to my office. No more put-offs. I had to do paperwork.

  The only thing good about that day was that Ashley, for whatever reason, stayed away from work. I could hear a laugh now and then through my open doorway out on the main floor. The troops were enjoying a respite from Ashley’s autocratic rule.

  I went back to the B & B that evening, mystified as to Ashley’s whereabouts. Had she gone on a trip, or was she sitting in her house thinking up new ways to make my life miserable?

  Mrs. Mordant caught me at the door and asked if I would take the old man up to the bluff. I said I would and threw on a cap; it was a mite breezy out there. She had him all muffled up and ready to go. As I had many times before, I pushed him to the bluff’s top and then sat down beside him on the bench. The sky was clear, but the sun was almost down at 6:00 o’clock. The long summer days when the sun went down at almost midnight were over. Sadly, winter was coming.

  “Blue.”

  I slumped in my seat. Here we go again, I thought, same old word or two.

  “Co . . .”

  “Yeah, it won’t be long before it’s cold. You have that right, my friend.”

  He shook his head and he too slumped further down in his wheelchair.

  Obviously, I was off base again. Would I ever understand what he was trying to say? Shaking his head again, he dug out his binoculars and focused on what I guessed was a huge tanker making its way through the white caps. That was the good thing about this vantage point. You could see most of the bay. He put down the binoculars, satisfied, I guessed, that this great ship was in its proper place. With trembling hands he put them away in their leather case.

  “Time to go, sir?”

  He nodded. I turned him around and away we went back down the hill as fast as safely possible. I truly believe this little run was one of the reasons he got up in the morning, hoping I would give him this moment of excitement. Up to now, he had enjoyed it in silence, but now I heard a sort of “ho, ho” from him. I’m not sure who enjoyed it more, him or me.

  I left him with his daughter and I went up the stairs to my room. Mrs. Mordant made me promise that I would come back down for a bowl of stew, which I gratefully accepted. It was not quite family for me, but it helped, and I wondered about Jeanette. Did she sit there evening after evening, alone with her stew? I hoped not. I hoped the people in the village would invite her out from time to time.

  Later that night I asked her about her evening meals, and she said about half of them were spent in solitude. She could have had more meals with her sister, but she felt it would have been imposing on Jean since she was keeping house with the village constable. I told her about Emily saying Ashley was involved in drugs in Miami and that her boss down there had gotten rid of her. Both of us remarked on how Alaska seemed to be used at times as a dumping ground for incompetent people. Ashley was not incompetent; she was just plain bad.

  We said our goodbyes and hung up, with my feelings in a much more positive mood. Somehow, I was going to whip Ashley. Truth always makes a good whip and that’s what I would use.

  Chapter 27

  The next morning was an early one for me. By 6:00 a.m. I was at the office. The prime reason for being there so early was to get out the tape recorder I had bought the day before and to get it installed in Ashley’s office. Finding an out-of-the-way spot to put it was not easy. It had to be in a spot she would not ordinarily look and yet pick up all the sounds in the office. Using a ladder and an electric screwdriver, I put it behind a heat register behind an old box of unused forms on a shelf thick with dust. I then tested it to make sure it worked and no
ted with some pleasure it would even pick up a noisy whisper.

  I left before the early-morning employee came in, but not before I looked around for hidden boxes and warm bodies. If there was anyone in the place, they did a great job of hiding.

  The Jeep once again took me to the Eat More Cafe. Emily wasn’t there, so I sat in her place at the table and watched the front door. To my surprise, Goldilocks himself came in, all resplendent in his Postal Service uniform. One of the younger locals gave a smirk a little bit on the loud side and got a withering glare from Sam. This guy, despite his small size, was not one to be trifled with. The smirker turned away, back to his meal, glad, I imagined, that he was still in one piece. After a second’s hesitation, I waved Sam to my table. He smiled and, after another look in the smirker’s direction, sat down. The place had turned quiet at this little interlude, and I was determined to bring it back to life.

  I looked up from my coffee. “I guess you must also be an early riser.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  For the time being, I let the “sir” go by. Sometimes my ego needed it, especially from the young. I have this thing about being respectful to your elders.

  “Well, are you ready for another action-packed day?”

  “Yes, sir, I think so, yes, sir.”

  Good grief! I thought. “So you’re all settled in then, I guess?”

  For that, I received another, “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, I’m glad to have you here at the P.O. Thanks to you, the old-timers have less OT, and to them that’s important.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I was just about to tell him to stop the “yes, sirs” when Emily walked in. Saved by the little lady. She looked good in her black suit, and I have to say my tired old eyes brightened at the sight of her. I wasn’t the only one whose eyes brightened. Young Sam was taken by what he saw, buckteeth and all. His eyes fairly glowed. On impulse, I waved her over. Sam rose from his seat as I introduced them to each other and I saw love at first sight. It was a wonder for me to see their eyes talk back and forth as they sat down. This was a first for me, to bring two people together who might be meant for each other. My insides welled up. I would have to tell Jeanette tonight about how I was going to be a godfather someday.