Free The Alpine Kindred by Mary Daheim Page A

the curb. “So he was on campus all along.”
    “So were a lot of people,” I said, still sitting in the back. “What does Ryan Talliaferro have to do with Einar Rasmussen Jr.?”
    “Nothing. But who was there who
did
have something to do with Einar Jr.?”
    “That's the most pressing question,” I conceded. “Where are we going?”
    “To get your car,” Vida replied.
    We had turned west on Tonga Road. “But we're going in the opposite direction of the hospital,” I pointed out.
    “My, my. So we are. I forgot.”
    It was a lie. We were heading for Skykomish Community College. “Turn around, Vida,” I commanded.
    “Why? It's not that late.”
    “Because I said so. I want to go home. If you want to see what's happening at the RUB, you can go to the college without me.”
    “Oh, dear!” Vida gave me a sharp glance over her shoulder. “This won't do! Whatever occurred between you and Milo?”
    I ground my teeth. As a rule, Vida's perceptive powers are much appreciated and admired. But not when she takes my personal life into her purview.
    I ignored her question. “Doc probably still hasn't shown up. I did everything I could do while I was there. I'm tired, and I want to go home. Please, Vida.”
    She slowed the Buick just before we reached the Burl Creek Road. “No one seems to want my company tonight,” she said in mock self-pity. “Carla has Dean Tal-liaferro and you have—what? Managed to somehow further annoy Milo?”
    “It wasn't hard to do.” I could feel my teeth clamp together.
    Vida pulled into the road that led to the ski lodge, then turned around. “You'll have to get over it by morning. Both of you.”
    “Why?” Now I was starting to get angry at Vida.
    “Because Carla isn't coming to work, and you'll have to cover the story for Wednesday's edition. Unless, of course, you want me to handle it.”
    Hard news was not Vida's forte. “Naturally I'll cover the story. I'm the editor, for God's sake.”
    “I should think so!” Vida, a usually sensible driver, headed back down Tonga Road at what I considered an excessive speed. “Any story of this magnitude involvingthe Rasmussen family is bound to be tricky. We'll— you'll—need all the help you can get.”
    I didn't respond. It passed through my tired mind that I needed help, all right. In more ways than one.

Chapter Five
    “W HY THE HEEL couldn't they have built a College in Snohomish instead of Alpine?” I overheard Milo say to someone in his office the next morning. “Then Einar could've gotten whacked in Snohomish County instead of here. Hell, they're mostly Snohomish types, not Alpiners.”
    Toni Andreas, the Sheriff department's receptionist, gave me an apologetic smile. “I'm afraid the Sheriff isn't in a very good mood today. He's filling in his other deputies about last night's homicide. Dwight Gould and Sam Heppner and Bill Blatt were off duty.”
    I didn't know about Sam and Dwight, but guessed that Bill hadn't been working the late shift. He is one of Vida's numerous nephews, and is trained, under penalty of God-knows-what, to relay any big news to his aunt immediately.
    “How long before Milo finishes with his merry men?” I inquired as Dustin Fong entered from the vicinity of the evidence and interrogation rooms.
    Toni rolled her big brown eyes. “Who knows? Do you want some coffee while you wait?”
    The Sheriff's coffee is not unlike the current state of our relationship—weak, bitter, and irritating. I declined Toni's offer. Instead, I collared Dustin.
    “What's going on?” I asked the youngest of Milo's deputies, a quiet-spoken Asian-American from Seattle.
    Dustin gestured at the Sheriff's office. “You mean the briefing?”
    I shook my head. “I mean the investigation itself. You might as well fill me in. I gather Milo may be busy for a while.” Now that I was on the premises, I wasn't sure how much I wanted to go one-on-one with the Sheriff this early in the day.
    Dustin motioned for me to come around to