Free The Last Annual Slugfest by Susan Dunlap Page B

you’ve got.”
    I nodded. I’d lived here long enough to have heard plenty about the unequal treatment of the two industries. “But what became of Opperman’s land?”
    “The land?” Chris said. “Oh, it’s a tree farm. Opperman made a big thing about replanting. But all the trees are the same height. It looks like a giant cornfield.”
    “But you were saying Curry Cunningham isn’t like that?” I prompted.
    “Oh, right. Curry’s been real good. What I was saying was that he was transferred from back East. His wife and son had to fly back there a couple times. Now they’re in Japan. I think she’s studying there.”
    “They sound like a very ambitious couple,” I said.
    Rosa nodded.
    “Angelina Rudd?” I asked. Before Rosa could protest, I said, “Tell me about her. She was a local girl, wasn’t she?”
    “She was in school with my oldest daughter. Her family, the Longhitanos, have been fishing here since longer than I can remember. Mario, her father, was swept overboard in a bad storm when she was just a girl.” Rosa swallowed, as if the memory were still fresh.
    “That happens,” Chris said quickly. “It’s the risk of fishing. You’re careful, and even if you never take chances, a storm blows up suddenly, and you can’t get back to port.” He shrugged. “There’s nothing you can do.”
    “What kind of girl was Angelina?”
    “She worked hard,” Rosa said. “She always had a job after school. The family needed the money. She’d take care of Leila Katz and her mother every day after school until Edwina got home. Then she’d walk home—it wasn’t close by, either—and study. Later, when Leila was older and her mother had died, Angelina worked at Fischer’s Ice Cream.” Rosa lifted her coffee cup, then, realizing it was empty, put it back in the saucer. “I can remember my Katie saying how hard Angelina worked in school. She was one of those kids who have to struggle for everything. Good grades didn’t come easy for her. Or good times, or boys. Katie was always a very social girl. She always had more boys over here than she knew what to do with. Once or twice she invited Angelina over, I think because she felt sorry for her—Katie was that type of girl. But Angelina never came.”
    “I guess she got what she wanted,” Chris said. “There she is running the fish ranch. And Katie’s just a teacher’s helper at the school, with four kids at home.”
    “Chris!” Rosa exclaimed. “Katie’s a fine mother.”
    “I know, Mama. But Angelina wouldn’t have wanted that. Besides, she has a son and a husband now. And she has the fish ranch. She’ll make a go of that if it kills her. She doesn’t have any choice. She told everyone that fish ranching was the way of the future. She said she’d make fishing with the fleet obsolete. She said we’d better think about going back to school and getting ready for some other kind of work. Maybe she’s right.” Slowly, Chris grinned. “But, Vejay, if she’s not, everyone who’s ever had a salmon on the line is going to be laughing. She’ll never hear the end of it.”
    I nodded. Rosa didn’t look up. I knew her well enough to realize that she couldn’t imagine the women she’d known as children, or Bert Lucci, or the man who was an usher at St. Agnes’s, killing Edwina Henderson. She could no more see them poisoning her than she could picture Chris doing it. As for Chris, I suspected he was thinking the same thing I was—that none of them looked as suspicious as he did.
    I stood up.
    “Won’t you have another piece of pie?” Rosa asked.
    “No, thanks. I need to get home. I don’t want to lose time in the morning.”
    Surprisingly, neither Chris nor Rosa asked what I was planning.

CHAPTER 8
    W HEN I GOT HOME , my house was damp and cold. I ran the tub, turned on the electric blanket, and poured myself a glass of wine. I felt both exhausted and wired—not a good combination.
    The rain had picked up, the wind was gusting, and