Free Alpine for You by Maddy Hunter Page A

fella. Someone shoulda warned him about the wind here. He mighta opted for the Velcro strips.”
    He leaped into the air after the toupee, but it sommersaulted higher, floated for a moment, then dive-bombed straight into the river. “BALLS!” He shoved his camcorder at Dick Teig and ran to stand at the top of the stone steps, gesticulating wildly. “It’s starting to sink. Son of a bitch!”
    I jogged over to where he was standing as the rest of the tour group filed in a hurried line into the church. He grabbed my arm. “I paid three thousand dollars for that hairpiece, Emily!”
    We stood for a moment watching it tread water. “I hope it’s insured for water damage.”
    Dick Teig palmed the camcorder and started filming. “The river.” He panned left and right then held steady. “Dick’s hairpiece in the river.”
    Dick Stolee bent down to unlace his shoes. I eyed him curiously. “What are you doing?”
    “If I lose that rug, Grace will never let me buy another. I’ve gotta jump in there and fish it out!”
    I looked at Dick. I looked at the river. I looked at the hairpiece. “ARE YOU NUTS?”
    “There’s time. It’s still floating.” Off came one shoe.
    “Can you swim?”
    “Of course I can’t swim. No one in Iowa can swim.” Off came the other shoe.
    “I bet Sonya can swim,” shouted Dick Teig. “I think Sonya should do it.”
    I could see Dick Teig capturing the whole event on tape: Dick Stolee diving into the river. Dick Stolee sinking to the bottom of the river. If he ran off half-cocked and killed himself, I’d be accused of allowing someone to drown my first day on the job. This would not be a big selling point on my résumé. Nuts.
    I looked at Dick. I looked at the hairpiece. I sighed with resignation. “Put your shoes back on, Dick. I’ll do it.”
    “You can swim?”
    “‘Fraid so.”
    “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Hurry up.” He jammed his feet back into his shoes and urged me down the steps. “It’s getting away.”
    It was four feet from shore and doing a slow backstroke toward the middle of the river. I shrugged out of my raincoat and kicked off my shoes. I pulled off my cardigan. I looked up to find Dick Teig focusing the camcorder on me. “This is the plaza in front of the Jesuit Church. This is Emily getting naked on the plaza in front of the Jesuit Church.”
    I rushed down to stand on the last step above water level. I reached out as far as I could. It was about five feet away now and completely out of reach.
    “If you wait long enough, maybe the tide will carry it to shore,” Dick Teig called out. I rolled my eyes. Being a native Iowan, the only tide Dick Teig knew about was the laundry detergent, and if Helen was in charge of the wash, he wouldn’t even know that much.
    “Be careful when you grab it,” Dick Stolee advised. “Try not to damage the part.”
    “How deep is this water?” All I could see were steps disappearing into liquid murk.
    “Don’t sweat the water. Just dive in and get it.”
    “I’m wearing cashmere, all right? Diving is not an option!” I was sorry already for taking this job. With mindless courage, I stepped onto the first submerged riser. “YEOOOOOOW!” My ankles and toes numbed instantaneously. I could hear Dick Teig filming behind me.
    “This is Emily freezing her ass off.”
    I lunged for the toupee. It bobbed away on a little wave. I descended another step, and another. The water was up to my knees. I hopped to the end of the riser and stretched as far as I could. Almost. It was just beyond my fingertips. Just a little farther…
    KERPLUNK!
    I thrashed to the surface in a frenzy of sodden clothing and frozen limbs. I opened my eyes. The hairpiece was just beyond my nose. I’d taken Red Cross lifesaving. I knew how to save a drowning body, but I wasn’t sure if the same technique would work on a hairpiece.
    I swiped at the toupee and crushed it in my fist, then swam the four feet to shore. Dick Stolee helped me