Free Doubled Up (Imogene Museum Mystery #2) by Jerusha Jones Page A

wrapped them.
    Pete went first, carrying my basket and truck keys. I followed, gripping the ramp railing with my bare hand as a smattering of rain flew at a forty-five degree angle. I patted my coat pocket. No lump. My gloves were on the top shelf of the closet at home. Tuppence trotted, head down and ears flapping, straight for the open truck door and jumped onto the seat. Pete hurried around to the driver’s side and helped me in.
    “ Call me when you get home, no matter how late it is,” he said as a wind gust flipped up his coat collar. “You can always spend the night at the jail if you need to.”
    “ Very funny.”
    “ I’m serious.” He shut my door.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 7
     
    On the open highway, gusts buffeted the truck, but very little rain dotted the windshield. I gripped the steering wheel and pressed on the accelerator. The Columbia River Gorge is like a funnel for the large basin east of the Cascades. Col d air rushing through the channel brings several severe storms each winter. Exciting and potentially dangerous.
    I was worried about talking to Val. I ’d been so angry at Ham’s duplicity when I’d first discovered it that I’d fled. His mother, Arlene, had helped me pack. She was the only one who’d supported my decision, who’d understood. My mother and step-father told me it wasn’t a big deal, that these things happen and I should just learn to live with them. At least Arlene admitted to her son’s faults even as she fervently hoped he’d outgrow them.
    But Val had seemed desperate to hang on to Ham. Maybe if she knew what he really was, she wouldn ’t feel so betrayed. I jerked the steering wheel against a blast of wind. Poor kid. It was worth a try.
    I figured Sheriff Marge would forgive me if I sped a little, and I raced into Lupine twenty-five minutes later. It felt deserted. Even the tavern parking lots were empty. Yellow light emanated from most houses ’ kitchen windows and blue glows shone from the living room windows — televised football games in full swing.
    I pulled into the courthouse parking lot next to a deputy ’s cruiser and rolled my window down half an inch, giving Tuppence a tiny crack for fresh air.
    I pushed the intercom buzzer on the secure side door used as the jail entrance and smiled up at the video camera.
    Deputy Archie Lanphier’s scratchy voice came over the speaker. “Hey, Meredith. Is that a picnic basket?”
    “ Yep.”
    “ Then I guess I’ll let you in.”
    The lock clicked, and I pulled open the door. Down the dingy sloped hallway, the air grew cooler and mustier with each step. The jail was in the basement, and it stank of moldy carpet and fresh paint. I waved at the second camera, and the next door clicked open.
    Archie pulled his feet off the desk, stood and hitched up his gun belt and pants in one motion. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
    “ I was hoping to visit your prisoners — well, your prisoner and your guest. I brought them some home-cooking.” I set the basket on the desk and lifted out the loaded plates. “I have an extra plate for you, too. I’m sorry you drew dungeon duty today.”
    “ It’s not so bad. We’re splitting half-shifts. Dale took the morning stint, and Owen Hobart covered this afternoon. So I’ve already had my big meal and caught the end of the Steelers’ game.” He inspected a plate. “These dill potato rolls look like they have Sally Levine’s fingerprints on them.”
    “ Wow, you’re good.”
    Archie laughed. “Naw, I recognize them from the Sunday potlucks, and I make sure to grab a couple every time I see them. I’m a meat and potatoes and bread kind of guy.” He pursed his lips. “Okay if I save this for later?”
    “ It’s all yours. How are things in there?” I tipped my head toward the steel door to the cells.
    “ Quiet. That little gal can get fired up, but I think she’s worn herself out now. Sort of don’t know what to do with her