by Cindy Myers
“What do you look so glum about?” Barb, the few strands of blond hair escaping from her updo the only sign that she was frazzled, joined Maggie and Jameso at the bar. “You don’t have anything to be glum about. You’re going to have a beautiful baby and you’re getting married in three days.”
“Maggie thinks we should put off the wedding because of everything that’s going on at the mine.” Jameso set the three beers on a tray.
“You have to have the wedding Saturday,” Barb said. “It’s the only way I’ll get Chris Amesbury out of my bed-and-breakfast. He promised to be gone by then because I told him he’s in the honeymoon suite. If you don’t have the wedding Saturday, he’ll never leave.”
“We’re not putting off the wedding.” She gratefully accepted a glass of ginger ale from Jameso. “It was just an idea. It just feels so strange, with all these strangers in town—including Amesbury.”
“The man looks at everyone here like we’re exhibits in a zoo.” Barb slid onto a stool next to Maggie. “I’ve stopped changing his sheets and I’m limiting his fresh towels, hoping he’ll get the message and pack up.”
“What does the mayor think of you hassling the town’s guest of honor?” Maggie asked.
“My mother wishes she’d never heard the name Chris Amesbury.” Olivia deposited a tray of empty beer bottles and glasses in a bus tub behind the bar. “Now that he’s decided to put his reality show idea on hold in favor of a documentary about the mine explosion, he’s even more annoying.”
“The Eureka Mine Disaster.” Maggie snagged a pretzel from the bowl at the end of the bar. “Just what Lucille wants the public to associate with the town.”
“Amesbury asked me this morning if I could find him half a dozen donkeys to use in his film,” Barb said.
“Donkeys?” Maggie ate another pretzel.
“You know, those burros miners used to use to haul equipment and ore and stuff,” Barb said. “He thought it would be ‘quaint’ to re-create a scene of an early miner for his movie. I told him that, present company excepted, I did not normally associate with jackasses.”
“Oh, Barb.” Olivia laughed. “You’re too much.”
“Speaking of mines and miners, what’s the latest word from the Lucky Lady?” Barb asked.
“They think they know where the men are trapped, but there’s no way to communicate with them to know if they’re okay,” Maggie said. “They’ve got crews working around the clock to move rock and try to get to them.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I miss Bob,” Olivia said. “This place isn’t the same without him holding up the bar every afternoon.”
“If anyone can make it through something like this, it will be Bob.” Jameso opened the cash register and stuffed in a handful of bills. “He’s too stubborn to die.”
“Yes, but can you imagine being trapped for two days with Gerald Pershing?” Olivia made a face. “If they survived the explosion and cave-in, they might have killed each other by now.”
“Do they know what caused the explosion?” Barb asked.
“Rick heard they found in one of the side tunnels enough ammunition and powder to start a small war,” Maggie said.
“That was Bob’s survival supplies,” Olivia said. “He also had a bunch of canned food and bottles of water. He used to say civilization was going to hell in a handbasket, but he wasn’t going to go with it.”
“Mainly, I think he liked the idea of being prepared for anything,” Jameso said.
“One of the investigators told Rick they think an animal got into the explosives and accidentally set them off,” Maggie said.
“Maybe when he gets out, he’ll decide to take up a less dangerous hobby,” Barb said.
“I just hope when they get out, Gerald Pershing decides to leave town for good,” Maggie said.
“You can’t say Gerald hasn’t done something good for the town, in a roundabout way.” Barb crunched on her own pretzel. “Business is booming with all these people around. I could rent out every room of the B and B if I had beds to put them in.”
“When are those mattresses arriving?” Olivia asked.
Barb shrugged. “I’m not sure. But really, I’m just as happy not to have to deal with guests until after the wedding.”
“You do realize that running a bed-and-breakfast is all about dealing with guests, don’t you?” Maggie nudged her friend. “It’s not just decorating and menu planning.”
“But those are the fun parts. Changing sheets and fetching ice are the drudge work. I’m not a drudge work kind of person.”
“That would be me.” Olivia hefted a full tray of drinks. “One drudge coming through.”
The door to the saloon opened and Lucille slipped in. She removed her sunglasses and searched the room, then headed toward Maggie and Barb. “So this is where everyone interesting is hiding,” she said. “Have you seen Reggie? He’s not in his office.”
“I thought I saw him earlier,” Barb said. “Headed out of town on that Harley of his.”
“Probably avoiding me.” Lucille nudged Barb. “You’re little. Share your bar stool with me.”
“Notice she didn’t ask me,” Maggie said.
Barb moved over and Lucille leaned against the stool. “Why would Reggie be avoiding you?” Barb asked.
“Every half hour I have a new question for him about the town’s liability, in case Gerald or Bob decides to sue.”
“Bob wouldn’t sue, would he?” Maggie asked.
“It’s not Bob I’m so worried about. But if Gerald smells money, he’ll go after it.”
“Maybe you won’t have to worry about that.” Maggie drained the last of her ginger ale and pushed the glass aside. “In fact, you might be the one suing Gerald when this is all over with.”
“Oh?” Lucille leaned toward her. “What have you heard?”
“Nothing official, but Rick and I have been talking to the investigators and rescue crews, and some things don’t add up. I haven’t had a chance to compare the plans Gerald drew up for the town council with the map of the mine the rescuers are using, but just from memory, some things are missing.”
“Like the emergency exit the engineers were supposed to install,” Lucille said. “It could be they hadn’t gotten around to that yet.”
“The town had to put up money for a bunch of safety improvements to the mine, right?” Maggie asked. She’d written the story for the paper, so she knew coming up with the money had been a hardship.
“Yes,” Lucille said. “An emergency exit and more ventilation, things like that. There have been engineers and crews up there for weeks, working on everything.”
“They were doing some work, but I don’t think they were doing everything you paid for,” Maggie said. “Charlie told me he didn’t see any sign of ongoing work—to him it looked like everything had been done that was going to be done. Which sounds like they never had any intention of installing that emergency exit.”
“But they must have known we’d do a final inspection before we paid,” Lucille said. “And their liability would be extreme. No one from the company has bothered to contact me, despite the fact that the mine collapse has been all over the news.”
“Maybe they’ve been paid everything that was owed them,” Maggie said. “And maybe they weren’t hired to oversee the safety of the mine, but just to do a few specific jobs—enough for Gerald to string the town council along and keep asking for more money.”
“And Gerald kept the rest.” Lucille made two fists. “I will kill him. I don’t care who hears me say that.”
“You can’t hurt him physically,” Maggie said. “Better to go after him where it really hurts—in his pocketbook.”
“I’m missing something here,” Barb said. “What happened?”
“The town paid Gerald our half of the cost of all the improvements to the mine,” Lucille said. “Instead of using the money to pay for the work, he pocketed it, or at least most of it.”
“Talk about your
own greed coming back to bite you in the butt,” Barb said.
“Trust me, when they haul him out of that mine, we will be pressing charges,” Lucille said. She leaned against the bar, head in her hands. “Honestly, I can’t decide if this makes me feel better or worse.”
“Wasn’t Bob supposed to be overseeing Gerald?” Maggie asked. “I mean, you just didn’t hand the money over to him, right?”
“Yes, Bob was supposed to be overseeing him,” Lucille said. “And despite his eccentricities, Bob does know a lot about mining. He tried to hold Gerald’s feet to the fire, but Gerald is very good at talking a lot and saying nothing. Whenever Bob pressed him for results, Gerald always had an excuse—the contractors were slow, the engineers needed more information, etcetera, etcetera.”
“He was stringing you along,” Barb said.
“Yes, and we had the sense to refuse to pay him any more until we got results, but still, he pocketed a good amount.”
“So you sue him,” Barb said. “If Reggie doesn’t want to handle it, I know a few good lawyers.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Meanwhile, let’s talk about a more pleasant topic of conversation. Are you ready for the wedding?”
“I don’t know,” Maggie said. “I was thinking maybe we should put it off until things are calmer.”
“We’re not putting it off,” Jameso said as he walked by on his way to deliver a tray of drinks to a table full of reporters.
Barb leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you getting cold feet?”
No, she had swollen feet. She loved Jameso and she definitely wanted to marry him. She just didn’t necessarily want to do it right now. “It’s a little overwhelming. The baby and marriage all at once,” she said.
Barb patted her hand. “You’ll do all right. You and Jameso are already living together and that’s worked out okay, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, I hadn’t planned on that either; but when his sister showed up, we couldn’t put her on the street. But the house is really too small, and my dad’s cabin is even smaller. How are we ever going to manage with the baby?”
“You still haven’t found a place to move to?” Lucille asked.
“Eve Fairview with Eureka County Realty thinks she’s found something for us, but it’s quite a ways out of town. Still, at this point we can’t be too picky.” She tipped up the pretzel bowl and peered at it hopefully. Empty.
“Don’t sign a lease for something that isn’t right,” Barb said. “I might have a lead on something.”
“What?” Maggie asked. “Where?”
Barb waved away the questions. “Never mind. I’ll tell you when I know something definite. Just don’t be in such a rush.”
“Barb, I’m getting married on Saturday and I have a baby due Monday. I don’t think I’m rushing.”
“Fine. Don’t think of it as rushing,” Barb said. “Think of it as right on time. You’ll find your house when the time is right, too.” She snagged Jameso as he passed with a bus tub full of empties. “Be a dear and bring me a Bombay sapphire and tonic when you get a chance.”
“Nice to see at least one of you ladies came to the bar to drink,” he said.
“I came here because you’re here,” Maggie said.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re exactly where you belong.” The soft brush of his beard against her skin sent a pleasant shiver up her spine. The baby kicked and she put her hand to her belly to soothe it and smiled. The agitation she’d felt when she’d come in here in search of him had dissipated like an afternoon thunderstorm, giving way to a feeling of deep contentment. For so many years she’d been searching for the place where she belonged, where she fit. To think she’d found it here in this quirky, remote town.
Still smiling, she looked out onto the crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces, and spotted Sharon working her way toward them. She wore an expression Maggie recognized—that of a woman determined to hold herself together. She was lost and uncertain, but determined not to show it. Exactly how Maggie had felt when she’d arrived in Eureka last year. She thought at the time she’d done a good job of hiding her uncertainty, of appearing competent and content to those around her. But now she judged herself a fraud. She’d been balancing on the edge; one slip and it was breakdown city.
She rose to greet Sharon and took her by the arm. “What is it?” she asked softly. “What’s wrong?”
Sharon’s eyes met hers, and for a brief moment Maggie glimpsed such sadness and despair. Then she blinked and Sharon had rallied. She gently pushed Maggie’s hand away. “I need to talk to Jameso,” she said.
Maggie turned to call him, but he was already there. “What is it?” he demanded, in that direct way men had that could be, in spite of its brusqueness, comforting in its strength.
“The police in Vermont found Joe.” Sharon’s voice had the flat affect of someone who has worked hard to strip all emotion from her words. “But they didn’t find Adan.”
People surrounded Sharon and led her to a chair at a table near the bar. Someone put a drink in her hand—something dark and potent that she swallowed without question. She yielded, disconnected from herself, from the grief and fear that threatened to overwhelm her. Jameso put a hand on her shoulder and bent to look her in the eye. “Tell me what happened,” he commanded.
“Someone from the Orleans County Sheriff’s Department called and asked to speak to me. He said they’d located Joseph Franklin, but that there were no minors living with him. According to Joe, Adan left over a week ago, and Joe has no idea where he’s gone.” The words sounded so foreign, as if she were discussing some other Joseph Franklin, a stranger or a character in a television show.
“Adan left?” Jameso scowled. “Do you mean he ran away?”
“The police seem to think so. They wanted to know if I’d heard from him.” She hugged her arms across her chest, wishing she could squeeze out the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. “I can’t believe Joe didn’t tell me. I’m Adan’s mother. I have a right to know.”
“Why did he leave?” Maggie asked. “Do they know where he was headed?”
“Joe wouldn’t tell them anything. I know how he can be. He clams up around authorities, or he starts spouting off about his rights.”
“So the police are just guessing?” Jameso’s voice rose in anger. “Are they charging Joe with anything in connection with the boy’s disappearance?”
“I guess they questioned the others—Wilson and the Russians and a couple of other hangers-on they picked up. They all said Adan left last Saturday morning. He and Joe had argued over something, though no one would say what the argument was about.”
“Sharon!” She looked up and Josh Miller was there, his Stetson slightly crooked on his head, the fine lines around his eyes deepened by concern. “I just heard the news about Adan,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said, and had to look away from the kindness in his eyes. Everyone was being so kind, going out of their way to avoid blaming her for what had happened. But she couldn’t push away the guilt so easily.
“Can you tell us more about what happened?” Jameso asked Josh.
“It took me a few calls to find out what little I know,” Josh said. “That’s why I wasn’t here sooner. I was hoping to have some good information for you.”
“What did you find out?” she asked.
“Not much. Joe and his followers had hooked up with another bunch of hard-core preppers and were squatting on National Forest land up near the Canadian border. The deputy I talked to said it was pretty rough conditions: tents and an old camper, though they were cutting timber—illegally, of course—to build some cabins. Joe had already rubbed some of the others the wrong way, and he and Adan had some clashes. The next thing everybody knew, Adan had packed a backpack and headed out.”
“Didn’t Joe try to stop him?” Sharon asked.
“The others said he didn’t.” Josh moved closer to her. “Do
you have any idea where he might go? Do you have any relatives in the area? Friends?”
She shook her head. “Neither Joe nor I are close to our parents. The children weren’t in school, and we lived away from children their own age.” She grabbed her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “I gave Adan a phone before I left. I’ve been calling and calling, but it always goes straight to voice mail and I never get an answer.”
“He might have lost the phone, or left it behind,” Josh said. “They’re looking for Adan.” Josh squeezed her shoulder. “They’ll find him.”
She wanted to believe him but couldn’t. Anything could happen to a fifteen-year-old boy, on his own among strangers. Adan knew a lot about hunting and fishing and living off the land, but he’d been sheltered from things other kids his age knew about, such as how to drive a car or navigate in a city.
“If you want me to go up there and look myself, I will,” Jameso said.
This declaration brought a lump to her throat. She took his hand and squeezed it, unable to speak. Part of her did want him to do just that, but she still had it together enough to realize the foolishness of this. Jameso had never lived in Vermont. He didn’t know the area or the people. And he had obligations here.
“No,” she said after a moment. “You’re getting married in a few days. And your baby will be born soon. You need to stay here. With your family.”
“You’re my family, too.” His voice was rough with emotion. “I know I haven’t always acted like it, but I love you. And I hate anyone who would hurt you.”
Something gave way within her at those words—a restraint that had been binding for too long fell away. This is why she’d come to Eureka, what she’d driven all the way across the country to hear. She hugged his neck and pulled him close. “You’re a good brother,” she said. “And I love you for wanting to help me, even if you can’t. No one can. All I can do is wait.”
“Then we’ll wait with you.” Maggie patted her arm.
She looked at Maggie, her face flushed and her body rounded with the promise of new life; at Jameso, torn between anger and dismay; then at Josh, all concern and tenderness and the same powerlessness she felt.