Catch Me if Yukon

by Maddy Hunter

  “What candle?” asked Grace.

  “The one whose wax melted into the spitting image of Mr. Potato Head.”

  Dick Teig snuffled with laughter. “Try not to take this too hard, Alice, but Mr. Potato Head isn’t human.”

  “That’s right. What was I thinking?” She waved her hand as if to sweep away her mistake. “It was Mr. Peanut.”

  “My favorite was the cornflake,” chimed Nana.

  “Whose face could you possibly see on a cornflake?” asked Tilly.

  “It was s’posed to be Elvis, but it looked a lot more like Robert Mitchum to me.”

  “Does anyone have a magnifying glass?” Ennis called out. “I can’t make out enough definition to draw a conclusion about Bob’s photo, but I’m seeing nothing that would prevent me from speculating that this could actually be Bigfoot. And if it is, Bob’s accidental photo might open the portal to one of the most monumental discoveries of the twenty-first century.” He glanced around the room. “Where is Bob? Is he actually late?”

  “Mom and Dad aren’t joining us. I’ve already shared my announcement with them. So…if we’re all here, I’d—”

  “Delpha’s not here,” Goldie spoke up. “Aren’t you going to wait for her?”

  I exhaled a slow, controlled breath. “Delpha’s the reason you’re all here, and I fear there’s no way I can soften the blow. She was apparently involved in a serious mishap on her hike down the mountain. I don’t have any details yet. Etienne is finding out what he can from the hotel management, but—”

  “Is she in the hospital?” asked Goldie.

  “No.” I shook my head. “No hospital. She…she didn’t survive the incident.”

  Shocked silence.

  “Are you telling us she’s dead?” Ennis intoned.

  I nodded. “I’m afraid so. I’m so sorry. I don’t understand how it happened, but someone discovered a body on the mountain, and it appears to be Delpha’s.”

  “Well, that’s a no-brainer,” wisecracked Bernice. “Bob’s ape killed her.”

  Yup. Exactly what I feared would happen. Had I called that or what?

  Helen glared at Bernice, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “Excuse me, but wasn’t it you who just made a huge point of telling us that Bob’s ape was fake news?”

  “That was before the dead body showed up. It was the ape. Case closed.”

  “You can’t just flip-flop like that,” argued Helen.

  “Why not? Haven’t you noticed? It’s the hottest trend in Washington.”

  “We’re not in Washington,” spat Helen.

  Bernice offered an unapologetic smirk. “That’s the thing about trends. They spread.”

  “As much as the academic in me would like to believe that Bigfoot is alive and well and roaming the mountain slope outside our window,” Ennis interjected, “I’m quite certain that even if the creature is out there, it’s a virtual impossibility that it would have caused Delpha’s death.”

  “How do you know that?” asked Dick Stolee.

  “Because given all the sightings of Bigfoot and creatures of its ilk, there has never once been a death reported in association with its appearance. The concerted opinion of scientists and others who’ve studied the literature is that despite the creature’s genetic markers that indicate a relationship to the polar bear family, this particular specimen isn’t carnivorous. It’s a herbivore.”

  “So?” Bernice heckled. “Just because Delpha didn’t qualify to be an entree on the ape’s dinner menu doesn’t mean he didn’t kill her.”

  Collective ewws. Tsking. Sniffling.

  “That is the vilest statement I have ever heard coming out of the mouth of any human being,” sobbed Goldie.

  Tilly pulled a face. “Actually, in comparison to some of the more despicable remarks she’s made over the years, that one was relatively tame.”

  Alice nodded. “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, I’d give it a four.”

  “Six for me,” said George.

  “I’d rate it a solid five,” said Dick Teig.

  “Show of hands as to whether Bernice has lost her edge,” Osmond called out. “Those voting yea, please raise your—”

  “No voting!” I warned, stabbing my finger at him. I caught Goldie’s eye. “I apologize for Bernice’s insensitivity. She was raised by wolves.”

  Bernice doubled down on her smirk. “Numbskulls.”

  “This is all my fault,” whimpered Florence, stiffening visibly as Thor snaked a comforting arm around her shoulders. “If I hadn’t told her off for coming to my defense, she might not have ventured out on her own. She might still be alive.”

  “Why are you taking the blame?” chided Thor with his usual bombast. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t tell her to go running down that mountain on her own. The woman had a big mouth. You heard what she said to me. She mouthed off and she paid the consequences. I mean, I’m sorry she’s dead, but it was her own fault.”

  Goldie let out a gasp. “Excuse me, Thor, but did you just have the unmitigated gall to make Delpha’s death all about yourself?”

  He raised his hand in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just saying, when people cross me, bad things happen.”

  “To them or to you?” asked Alice.

  “To them!”

  “That is so not true,” confided Florence, looking embarrassed. “I don’t know why you say things like that, Thor. People just end up laughing at you. When did anything ever happen to someone who crossed you? Specifically. I want names and dates.”

  “The hell you do. You don’t need to know squat. All you need to know is, it happens. Believe me, just like clockwork, it happens.”

  Nana gave him a squinty look. “Sounds like one of them ancestral curses to me. You got any Scottish blood in you?”

  “I’m one hundred percent Norwegian, pure and untainted, as far back as my ancestry extends.”

  “No kiddin’? Well, you might wanna look into that on account of I’m thinkin’ that somewhere along the way, one of them relatives of yours mighta hopped a boat and gone rogue in Scotland.”

  And that just about clinched it. I waved my hands in the air to get the group’s attention. “Can all of you please put your differences aside for the moment and try to refocus on the situation with Delpha? That is why you’re here.”

  Downcast eyes. Silence. The appearance of contrition.

  “So what happens next?” asked Ennis, his voice husky with emotion. “What…what do we do? Stay here? Go home? What?”

  “This is so recent, we can’t make any immediate decisions, so what I’m asking all of you to do is to just sit tight until we have more information, and then we can decide what our next move should be. Probably tomorrow morning sometime.”

  “Have you notified her family yet?” sniffled Goldie, her eye shadow leaving a trail of blue glitter across her face as she swiped tears from her eyes.

  “I imagine we’re going to have to coordinate that with the local authorities, so that’s on hold for the moment.”

  “Her sister will be devastated,” she choked out, her voice trembling. “Although she’s traveling in Mongolia at the moment, so I don’t know if you’ll be able to reach her. Remember how she didn’t want anything to do with the newspaper until Delpha sold it? And then she showed up with her hand open, wanting her share of the profits? The court case went on forever.”

  Orphie perked up. “I got to hear all the gory details because, as you know, Al’s council meetings take place in the same building, so he used to pop into the courtroom and carry the latest scuttlebutt back home with him.”

  “The whole affair turned incredibly nasty,” Goldie continued, “but I thought it was quite admirable that the sisters were able to mend their fences afterward. They really have quite a civil relationship now. At least, it appears to
be civil.” Her gaze drifted to Thor. “I mean, you can never really tell about relationships, can you? A perfectly nice outer layer might be hiding an inner core that’s more rotten than month-old garbage.”

  Thor narrowed his eyes. “Why did you look at me when you said that?”

  Goldie grinned coyly. “Because you’re so handsome, Thor. I can’t take my eyes off you.”

  “Alison’s not here,” Grover Kristiansen spoke up. “Have you told her yet? She deserves to know. She might have been with us for only a few hours, but I believe she’s already established a warm rapport with the entire group, so I bet she’ll be as devastated about Delpha’s death as the rest of us are. I’ll volunteer to tell her if you like. Save you the trouble.”

  I couldn’t begin to imagine how thrilled Alison would be to become hostage to yet another of Grover’s mind-numbing monologues. “Thanks anyway, Grover, but I’m taking care of that.”

  The sparkle fled his eyes at my refusal. “Okay, but let me know if you change your mind.”

  Why was I getting the feeling that Grover might become a nuisance for our pretty local guide?

  “So I guess that’s all I can tell you for now,” I confessed as the ladies dried their eyes and blew their noses. “Hopefully we’ll have more answers by tomorrow morning. So thank you all for coming on the spur of the moment like this. I just wish I’d had different news for you.”

  “But what about Bigfoot?” insisted Helen Teig, slanting a look toward the window. “What if he’s really out there? What if he did have something to do with Delpha’s death?”

  I inhaled a calming breath. “Meaning no disrespect to either my father’s photographic ability or Ennis’s academic beliefs, I’m going to file Bigfoot’s potential existence under ‘mythology’ and not give it another thought. And I recommend all of you do the same.”

  Wary looks. Skeptical expressions.

  “Please trust me on this. You have nothing to fear from Bigfoot.”

  “Tell that to Delpha,” mocked Bernice.

  “About that!” I added as they began boosting themselves to their feet. “Please don’t breathe a word about Delpha’s death until the authorities make an official statement to the public. The last thing the police need to deal with is a social media circus pushing the theory that Dad’s creature is responsible for Delpha’s death.”

  “Too late,” crowed Bernice, brandishing her phone over her head. “Already done.”

  I shot her a frustrated look. “You didn’t.”

  She gave me a palms-up. “Hey, if you wanted to keep everything a secret, you should have said something sooner. Not my fault that your communications ability needs improvement.”

  Hisses. Boos. Razzberries.

  “Yeah, yeah,” taunted Bernice, dismissing the disapproval with a casual flip of her wrist. “Face it. You got scooped. You’re all seeing green that I’m the one who flooded the internet with breaking news before the rest of you had the sense to think about it.” She flashed a Cheshire cat grin as she waltzed out the door. “Better luck next time.”

  The group moved toward the door in slow motion, as if uncertain of their footing, Delpha’s death definitely taking its toll. I intercepted Goldie as she rounded the bed.

  “I apologize for not notifying you about Delpha first, Goldie, but as impersonal as a group meeting is, it seemed the best way to share the information.” I squeezed her arm. “I know what a blow this must be for you. I’m so sorry.”

  She nodded as she dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “Thank you, Emily. And I appreciate your wanting to notify me first…but”—she regarded me with curiosity—“why would you want to notify me first?”

  “Well, because of your friendship. Delpha told me that the two of you had been best friends since kindergarten.”

  “She did?”

  “You bet. She said she was closer to you than she was to her own sister.”

  Her curiosity turned to confusion. “Why would she say something like that? We enjoyed each other’s company in book club, and yes, we went through grade school together, but we’re not close. We never hung out together. Never had sleepovers. Never called each other on the phone. We were planning to enjoy a spa date together tomorrow, but that didn’t mean we were best friends. To be honest, our friendship was superficial at best. It’s so odd that she made a comment like that. I really don’t know what to make of it.”

  Neither did I, but if Delpha had lied to me, it shone a whole new light on the venomous look she’d directed at Goldie, Grover, and Ennis.

  nine

  “good morning, everyone, and thank you for taking the time to meet with me on such short notice. I’m Lieutenant Charlie Kitchen of the Alaska State Troopers, and, as Mr. Miceli has no doubt informed you, I’m here to ask you a few questions.”

  Etienne had returned to our room last night not knowing any more than when he’d left. “No one is able to tell me anything. They’re drawing a curtain around the incident until the authorities can complete their initial examination of the scene. I asked who would be tasked with the investigation and was told the Alaska State Troopers would probably conduct the preliminary probe, so I called their headquarters in Anchorage and gave them my contact information, explaining my relationship to Delpha and urging them to share whatever details they can as soon as possible so I can make the necessary call to her family.”

  His cell had chirped at seven o’clock this morning, the officer on the other end requesting Delpha’s emergency contact information and asking Etienne to gather his Destination Travel guests together for a group meeting at nine, which explained why we were all seated in one of the hotel’s private conference rooms, eyes riveted on Lieutenant Charlie Kitchen with his short, compact build, blue uniform and tie, and wide-brimmed Dudley Do-Right hat. Everyone was looking a little rough this morning. Like me, they were probably suffering the effects of too little sleep precipitated by too much daylight.

  “Did I allow you enough time to eat breakfast?” he asked.

  Nods. Yups. A disgruntled “barely” from Bernice.

  “Good. Before we get started, I’d like you to write your name and contact information on the sheet of paper I’m sending around the room.” He handed a clipboard to Osmond. “And I’d appreciate your leaving the pen with the clipboard. I send them out but rarely get them back, so my supply is dwindling.” He smiled pleasantly. “Let’s begin, then. I’d like to review yesterday’s timeline beginning with your tram ride to the top of the mountain and ending with your ride back down to the resort.”

  Florence popped out of her chair. “Against the advice of my husband, I’d like to confess.”

  “To what?” asked Lieutenant Kitchen.

  Thor threw his hands into the air, followed by major head shaking and an irritated growl.

  “I’d like to confess my part in Delpha’s death. She went off by herself yesterday because I’d been mean to her.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Officer,” Goldie spoke up. “She wasn’t that mean. Cross maybe, but certainly not mean.”

  “Perturbed,” said Orphie.

  “I got the impression that she was simply fed up with the status quo,” theorized Tilly. “She was requesting a recalibration in her relationships, but I never saw any real anger.”

  “Florence doesn’t get angry,” Helen Teig attested. “She’s a saint.”

  Lieutenant Kitchen’s gaze bounced from one woman to the other. “I’m sorry. Florence is…?”

  She waved her fingers in the air. “Me. I’ll be sorry to miss the remainder of the trip, but I understand that you have a job to do.” She raised her wrists in front of her face like a felon awaiting handcuffs. “Go ahead and arrest me. I’m ready to face the music.”

  Kitchen regarded her with a slightly dumbfounded expression before finding his tongue. “Florence,” he said kindly, “I’m fairly certain that being mean
, cross, or fed up doesn’t constitute a crime necessitating your immediate arrest, so I’m going to suggest that you have a seat while we review yesterday’s timeline, and we’ll discuss your incarceration once we’ve finished. Is that okay with you?”

  “Suit yourself,” she said bravely, “but you’re just postponing the inevitable.” She sat back down while Kitchen took a moment to reboot, appearing a little off-kilter.

  “So, if you could provide me with a bit of background information,” he asked as he ranged a curious look around the room. “What type of tour is this exactly?”

  “It’s a tour for active Iowa seniors what’s still got all their marbles,” volunteered Nana.

  “That’s debatable,” snorted Bernice.

  “You’re all senior citizens?” asked Kitchen.

  “Not my daughter Emily and her husband,” Mom said proudly. “They run the tour, so they’re obviously much younger.”

  “So is Alison,” added Grover Kristiansen as he gestured to the place she was sitting. “She’s our local guide.”

  Kitchen nodded. “But all the rest of you are”—he paused, seeming to grapple for the right word—“older?”

  Dead silence. Narrow stares.

  “Something wrong with that?” asked Dick Teig in a tight voice.

  “Uhh—no. Like I said. Background. So”—he leveled his gaze on Etienne—“perhaps I could ask Mr. Miceli to get the ball rolling. Did all your guests take the same tram up the mountain last night?”

  “They did. We met in the lobby at six and walked over to the tram station as a group. Our dinner reservation was set for seven, so I wanted to frontload time for people to explore.”

  “I never tire of that ride up the mountain,” admitted Kitchen as he removed a small notepad and pen from his shirt pocket. “The scenery’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Bob got hisself a picture of Bigfoot on the way up,” enthused Nana.

  Mom made a gasping sound. Swiveling around in her chair, she stared at me with accusatory eyes. “Emily Andrew-Miceli, you promised me you wouldn’t breathe a word about that to your grandmother.”