Breakup (22 page)

For a nominal fee, of course. Social work came a long way behind capitalism on Bernie's list. "Certainly we can try, Auntie," Kate said, "but since the last vote went against us, maybe we should try something else. Like a clinic," she added doggedly.

"What's a clinic got to do with Ben and Cindy Bingley?" Harvey said.

"Everything," Kate said. "If we fund a clinic, we can hire counselors. If we have counselors on staff, locally accessible so our people don't have to go to town for treatment, which they won't anyway, we can tackle this problem at the roots. Other associations and corporations have already done so. Look at Ahtna. They've got a full-time substance-abuse counselor wired into the AFN sobriety movement."

"Our people won't go to Anglo doctors," Harvey said.

Kate said patiently, "They will if the board members are the Anglo doctors' first patients. In the meantime, why don't we se t up some kind of additional funding to apprentice our own people to the staff of the clinic and, if they are so inclined, maybe pay to send them to medical school? They don't have to be doctors, they could be nurses, nurse-practitioners, physician's assistants, counselors. That way, eventually we would have our own people treating our own people."

"And," Auntie Joy added, "it might keep the kids home." All five of Auntie Joy's children had moved to Anchorage to pursue education and careers. Auntie Joy lived up the Glenn Highway from Anchorage, but it was a long, cold drive in the winter and she never saw enough of her grandchildren.

"Most of our money's tied up in capital construction or investments," Billy said, doubtful. "The sawmill at Chokosna. The salmon plant in Cordova. The market holdings Outside."

Auntie Vi glanced at Kate from the corner of her eye. "What about the dividend you're about to declare from the Chokosna logging profits? The shareholders aren't expecting that, so they wouldn't miss it."

Harvey bristled. Billy shook his head and said, "I don't know. The shareholders want money, and the Association has given it to them from the first year it showed a profit. They've been happy with that for a long time, going on twelve years now."

"And what do you think they are going to say," Harvey said triumphantly, "when we cut back on the quarterly dividends to maintain this clinic?"

"And this will be something new," Demetri observed, as dispassionate as always, "and you know elders. They like to move slow. And they vote."

Oh, Kate thought, you mean like the six people at this table right now?

"Shareholders are used to going to Ahtna or Anchorage for health care," Harvey said, and smiled at Kate. "I haven't heard any complaints."

"But then," Kate said, with a smile as false as Harvey's, "yo u weren't looking down the wrong end of Cindy's thirty-thirty today, were you, Harvey?" That was too close to impudence for her elders, and five different kinds of disapproval radiated in her direction. Again, Kate reined in her temper. "Where's Suzy Moonin going to get prenatal care for her and my cousin Martin's first baby? When Carl Stoff broke his leg, he had to be medivacked to Anchorage. When Eknaty Kvasnikoffs little brother-I forget his name-"

"Brian," Auntie Vi said.

"When Brian Kvasnikoff got appendicitis, he died because the weather was socked in and we couldn't fly him to a hospital in Anchorage. It's not just the substance-abuse treatment we need."

"The community is a small one, for the supporting of an entire clinic," Uemetri observed.

"It isn't if you include everyone," Old Sam said, "Natives and whites."

Everyone was taken aback, especially Kate, since she'd been planning on saying that herself.

"Pay for white care out of Native funds?" Billy said, shocked.

"Nope." Old Sam shook his head. "Charge everybody on a sliding scale, a percentage based on their annual income. If they don't have any annual income, they don't pay. If they have a little, they pay a little. If they have a lot, they pay a lot. Harvey-" he grinned his desiccated grin at Harvey, who didn't grin back "-and, say, Bernie Koslowski, now, they'd pay a lot. Ben and Cindy, they'd pay a little."

He surveyed their startled expressions with tolerant contempt. "Else how we going to do it? We all live here, all together, Native and white and Negro or black or African American or whatever the hell Bobby Clark's calling himself this year. We're neighbors." He added, his sarcasm deliberately heavy-handed, "You all may be too young to remember the ructions we went through over ANCSA, but I'm not. Lot of resentment between the races because of it. Lot of it."

Billy opened his mouth and Old Sam raised his voice. "I don't want to hear it, Billy. It don't matter a hoot that we deserved restitution for getting our asses kicked around for three hundred years. We got money and land because we had brown skin and the people we'd been living next to for a century didn't. It's taken us twenty years and change to smooth over the bad feelings. No point in stirring it up all over again by starting a clinic-which idea by the way I like and will vote for-that only serves us Natives. Dumb." He met Harvey's glare with another of his patented nasty grins. "Dumb and divisive."

"Where'd you get the idea about payment, Uncle?" Demetri said. "I like it."

"Caught myself the clap the last time I was in town, over Fur Rondy in February," Old Sam said, and winked at Auntie Joy, who for once was not beaming. "Didn't want to stand in line at the Native hospital. Somebody told me about Family Planning. I went down there and they took real good care of me, and that's how they charged me. I was interested, so I asked." He grinned. "Got an awful cute little nurse behind the counter there, explained it all to me. Plan on visiting her again, next time I'm in town."

Kate's lip quivered at the fascinated way the rest of them sat staring at the wizened-up old coot. "Could the board maybe think about this for a while?" she said, sternly controlling the quiver. "Maybe you could meet next week and take a vote on whether to present it at the next shareholders' meeting."

Old Sam hooted. "Good God, girl, don't give them time to think. Make them vote, right here, tonight. If you don't, they'll talk it to death, just like Congress, and the damn thing'll never get built. The Association charter provides the board authorization for the creation of something like this, so we don't have to put it before the shareholders, which I for one don't think we should. I never noticed nobody in the Park ever voting for something just because it might actually be good for them."

After that comprehensive, scathing and unfortunately accurate assessment, no one could think of a thing to add, or they were to o scared of Old Sam to try. Old Sam moved for a vote, Auntie Joy seconded it, and the measure to fund a community health clinic out of funds from the Chokosna logging project passed four to one, Harvey voting against, which was only to be expected.

Everyone looked as dazed as Kate felt as the meeting broke up. Auntie Vi, scribbling furiously in her notebook, said, "Who took over for Sarah Kompkoff as head of the local chapter of the sobriety movement, does anybody know?"

"Ethan Swensen," Auntie Joy said.

Surprised, Kate said, "Isn't he a little young?"

"He's twenty-two," Billy said. "He started drinking when he was nine. He's been sober three years. Who better?"

He jerked his head, and Kate followed him across the room to the bar. "What'll it be, Billy?" Bernie said.

"How about a beer?" Billy said.

"Coming right up. Kate, look what I've got." He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a six-pack of Diet Seven-Up. "George brought it in from Anchorage and dropped it off. Said he owed it to you."

"Bernie," Kate said, "I want you now."

"Kate," Bernie said, "I'm yours."

"You handled yourself pretty well over there," Billy said after Bernie had served them and moved on to another customer.

"You sandbagged me," she said. "You prick."

His smile was merry and totally lacking in remorse. "Yes, I did. And you handled it well."

"Thanks," Kate said, giving up for the moment any attempt to bring Billy to recognition of his bad behavior. "I think."

"No. It needed saying. The clinic's a good idea. I've been thinking a little along those lines myself. That's why I okayed subsidizing our people's EMT training in Ahtna out of the discretionary fund. Yes, we have one, your grandmother saw to that. I figured once the EMTs got back and showed their stuff, the board would be more receptive to the idea of a clinic." He saw Kate's look and smiled again, a movement that creased his moon face in two an d made him look like a billiken. "I know, I know, it didn't sound like I thought so." His eyes were lit with mischief. "Let you in on a little secret, Kate. Sometimes I have to be against, to make everybody else for, just to get the job done." She looked at him, surprised, and he nodded, smile widening. "You helped the process along this evening, and for that I thank you." His smile faded. "Come a time, I'll want more. We all will."

"Come a time," she said promptly, "you'll whistle down the wind for it."

He didn't believe her, and smiled.

She didn't believe herself, and didn't.

He drained his beer and departed, leaving her with the uncomfortable suspicion that Billy Mike was much more than the part- time clown she'd always seen him as.

Of course, he was Emaa's handpicked choice to succeed her as chair. Kate would do well to remember that.

185

Kate was still staring after him when Auntie Vi spread her notebook out on the bar, finished off her notes, and dated and signed them with a flourish. "Well. That was one of our more interesting board meetings. You do know how to liven things up, Katya."

"It wasn't me, Auntie, it was Old Sam. He pretty much rolled right over the whole bunch of them."

"He did, didn't he?" Auntie Vi grinned. "It was fun to watch."

Kate had to laugh. "That it was, Auntie."

"Ekaterina-" Auntie Vi hesitated, and glanced at her great- niece.

Kate smiled faintly. "It wasn't the way Emaa would have done it, no, but she wouldn't have cared, so long as it got the results she wanted."

"Whatever works," Auntie Vi said, nodding. "Thank you, Katya."

"What for? Like I said, it was all Old Sam."

"No, Katya," Auntie Vi said firmly. "It was you. You set up the meeting because I asked you to talk to Harvey. Thank you. Now say, You're welcome."

"You're welcome, Auntie," Kate said obediently.

Old Sam was back at his original table, yelling, "Free throws win ball games!" as Michael Jordan bounced one off the rim. Kate looked across the room at him, watching as Jordan went up after his own missed foul shot and slammed the ball home for two. Old Sam pounded his approval on the table, upsetting several drinks in the process. Who would have thought that Old Sam, cantankerous old reprobate that he was, would step forward into Emaa's place so aptly, so ably, so opportunely? A sense of relief swept over Kate, and she turned back to Auntie Vi with a lighter heart. "How have you been lately, Auntie? I didn't get a chance to visit with you yesterday. I haven't seen you since-when?"

"Since you came in for starring at Russian Orthodox Christmas," Auntie Vi said.

"That's right, January," Kate said. It had been a crisp, clear night, and she had stood with her aunt at her aunt's front step to welcome and pass out treats to the carolers as they went singing from door to door. She'd ridden her snow machine in that afternoon, she remembered, which naturally led her to wonder now if she was going to be able to patch the gas tank on it. She hoped so. In spite of her new truck, the dwindling wad of cash in the Darigold butter can wasn't going to go far if she had to repair or replace all of her vehicles. So far the Earlybird settlement was just talk. Maybe she could work out a trade for the Great White Hunters' four-wheelers, both of which were still sitting in her front yard. Kate had no wish to learn how to mush dogs this late in life, and she'd never liked four-wheelers. It was a problem. She frowned, and then, when she felt Auntie Vi looking at her, shrugged off her woes. "You making good money off the feds, Auntie?"

"I made out okay," Auntie Vi said, which Kate took to mean she had made out like a bandit.

Chopper Jim was down at the other end of the bar, talking to Demetri. They'd both done time in Europe with the armed forces, and bored everyone very much with Cold War stories whenever they got the chance. Mark Stewart was sitting at a table against the wall, brooding over a bottle of beer. He was brooding so well that both Jackie Webber and Tina Moonin were trying to minister to his grief. He wasn't exactly beating them off with a stick.

"Auntie, did you know they were going up to the mine?"

"Who?"

Kate nodded imperceptibly toward Stewart. "The woman who died, and her husband. You said they were staying with you. Did you know they were going up to the mine?"

"Of course. I packed a lunch for them."

"Did Mark Stewart have a rifle or a pistol with him?"

Auntie Vi pursed her lips, and shook her head. "I didn't see one."

"What did their luggage look like?"

"I know what a rifle case looks like, Katya," Auntie Vi said tartly.

"I know you do, Auntie. But sometimes people put rifles in suitcases or duffel bags."

"Those ones had packs," Auntie Vi said firmly.

But you can break a rifle down, Kate thought. All it takes is a screwdriver to reassemble. Half the time the pieces will even pass through an airport security check.

"Why do you ask all these questions, Katya? He didn't have a rifle." She thought, and added, "He had a fancy knife, though. Had a screwdriver on it. He fixed the hinge on the door to their room." She grinned. "Good thing, too. They make lot of noise, and they were booked for all week." She saw Kate's expression. "What? What is it, Katya? Why you look like that?"

Kate's hand closed over the Swiss Army knife she had absentmindedly put in her pocket after Billy dropped it in the slush. Th e one Cindy had found up at the mine in her mad chase after her errant husband. She pulled it out and gave it to Auntie Vi. "Like this one?"

Auntie Vi took it, and after a few moments' fiddling, managed to open out the Phillips screwdriver. "Yeah, just like this one." She handed the knife back. "Why?"

"Did you warn them about the bear activity in the area?"

The old woman ruffled up. "Of course. Not my fault if they can't take a hint. I'm not their mother."

Kate turned away and caught a sly look in Auntie Vi's eye. "What?"

Auntie Vi took a ladylike sip from the glass of red wine that had replaced the mug of coffee with the council meeting's adjournment. "I see that woman before. That woman who died."

"Carol Stewart?"

Auntie Vi nodded.

Bobby and Dinah came in and were surrounded. Over the hubbub their entrance caused, Kate said, "Do you mean the Stewarts had been here before? When?"

"One year ago. Last spring. But that one was not with this husband." Auntie Vi's smile spread slowly across her face, her eyelids drooping so that she looked like the Cheshire cat. "But she make even more noise with him."

Kate stared at her, brows knit. "Wait a minute," she said slowly, "you were saying something like this last night when all the shooting started. Carol Stewart was in the Park last spring?"

"Yes."

"But not with Mark Stewart?"

"No."

"Auntie, I'm sorry, I have to get this straight. Carol Stewart stayed with you last spring, with a man who wasn't her husband?"

"Not this one. Maybe she change in the middle of the year." The old woman's eyes sparkled with mischief. Auntie Vi loved a good, nasty story, especially if it concerned no one she was relate d to, one reason she was a huge soap opera fan. She had had a satellite dish installed just so she could watch The Young and the Restless every day instead of waiting for the damn state to put it on Ratnet. In her presatellite days, she'd once had to wait two weeks to find out if Nicholas Newman had gone to jail for a murder he naturally had not committed. She was resolved never to let that happen again.

An argument broke out at Bobby's table. "Kate!" he roared. "Shugak, get your butt over here, they're ganging up on me!"

"Auntie," Kate said urgently, "who was it? Who was the man Carol Stewart was with last spring?"

"Vi!" Auntie Joy called from the quilting bee. "We need help with this stitch!"

Auntie Vi ripped her notes from the notebook, stuffed them into the hip pocket of her jeans for later transcribing to the Association computer and drained her glass. "I don't know, I don't care who they are or what they're doing here as long as they got cash."

"Try, Auntie."

Auntie Joy called again, and Auntie Vi huffed out an impatient breath, running a hand through her corkscrew curls. "I don't know. It was a fish name, or something like that. Sardine?" She frowned. "No, that's not right. I just don't remember, Katya."

"What did he look like?"

"It was a year ago, Katya. Skinny guy, I remember thinking he weigh less than she did."

"Was he dark? Blond? How old was he?"

Auntie Vi shrugged. "Brown hair, maybe. About her age, I guess, maybe couple years older. Look, I have to go help those ones finish that quilt. If I don't, they sew it to their laps."

Kate watched her cross the room with her bouncy, birdlike step. She turned back to the bar to find Chopper Jim lying in wait. He'd taken his hat off, which meant he was available to talk other than business, his dark blond hair smooth and shining. "I don't see any blood on the floor," he said with a grin.

"Where's your prisoner?" said Kate, who knew perfectly well where he was but didn't see any reason not to rag a little on Jim.

"He's not my prisoner.'7

"Why'd you bring him back?" she said bluntly.

"I told you, I wanted to walk over the ground with him."

"What did you find?"

"Nothing."

"Did Stewart show you which roof his wife was on?"

"He was a little confused," Jim drawled. He looked over her shoulder at Mark Stewart, and the blue eyes narrowed. "He couldn't remember which roof it was. Said he was in kind of a hurry at the time."

"There are a dozen houses back there," Kate said with acerbity. "Did he manage to narrow it down to two or three? Or maybe even just one, with a few scuff marks from the sole of a hiking boot or a few claw marks from a grizzly?"

"You noticed that, too," Jim said, satisfied. "Nope. He sure couldn't."

Dan O'Brian stamped inside. Kate saw him and waved vigorously. He looked right through her and joined the group around Bobby and Dinah.

"Still mad from this morning, I guess," Chopper Jim, a trained observer, said.

Kate set her glass down on the bar with a bang and stalked across the room to tap Dan on the shoulder. "O'Brian."

He sent her a cool look. "Shugak."

"You said you had a friend look up Mark Stewart on Motznik."

Dan almost sniffed. "I thought you weren't interested."

"I'm not. Did your friend happen to mention if Stewart has a pilot's license?"

Dan pushed back from the table and regarded her. "You're not interested, but you want to know if Stewart flies."

Kate felt the creep of warmth up the back of her neck. "There's no law says I have to be consistent," she snapped. "Does Stewart have a pilot's license or not?"

"No, he doesn't. I told you, when I saw him last fall the other guy was flying. Hooligan, or something like that. What's this all about, Kate?"

"Were he and Carol married in Alaska?"

"Yes, what-"

"Did you get the date on the marriage license?"

"Yes."

"Well? When? When did they marry?"

"Six years ago," Dan said. "Why the sudden interest?"

She stood still for a moment, frowning. "No reason," she said. "Excuse me."

Dan, sputtering, half rose to his feet to go after her. "Goddam that Shugak! Who the hell does she think she is! I oughta-"

"Don't," Bobby said. "I've seen her like this too many times. Don't bother."

Dan watched Kate halt in front of the trooper and start talking rapidly. He settled back into his seat, fuming. "Women," he said, and the word was not complimentary.

"I hear you," Bobby said, one hand massaging the back of Dinah's neck. Dinah looked dangerously close to breaking into a purr. "I hear you, boy."

Across the room, Kate said, "Jim, how does Stewart say he got here? Him and his wife? Dan says he doesn't have a pilot's license."

"Air charter out of Merrill Field."

"Did he say which one?" Jim shook his head. "I think you should find out which one."

"Why?"

"So you can ask the pilot if he had a rifle with him."

"Did somebody tell you he had one?"

"No."

"Did he even have a bag that might look like it could hold a rifle?"

Reluctantly, she shook her head. "No, I asked Auntie Vi. Both Stewarts carried packs."

"Than what makes you think he had a rifle?"

"You can break a rifle down, Jim. The individual pieces don't take up much room. You could pack for a romantic week for two and still have room left over for a barrel, a stock and a trigger."

"Not to mention ammunition."

"Not to mention."

He looked down at her and quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't interested."

"I'm not, goddammit," she said.

He continued to look at her, saying nothing.

"Oh hell," she said. "Bernie! Can I have another of those Diet Seven-Ups?"

The noise in the room grew to the point that Old Sam let loose with a vivid curse and turned the volume on the television up to 9. One of the pool players was in the process of running the table and she offered up an even more vivid curse, which Old Sam applauded politely before sitting back down. Luba glanced sideways at her husband and said something and Enid, Auntie Joy and Auntie Vi threw back their heads and laughed. Demetri, Harvey and Billy shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. In the far corner, the Unitarians were trying "Amazing Grace" on for size and finding it fit their soprano profundo section, if there was such a thing, rather well. Through it all Ralph Estes snored peacefully.

Bernie refilled Kate's glass with ice, popped open another can, served Jim another beer and, in response to a slight jerk of the trooper's head, drifted back down the bar.

Kate took a long, reviving drink. "Auntie Vi said something else, Jim."

"What?"

She had to raise her voice over the music. "Auntie Vi said Carol Stewart was up here last spring, too."

Jim was quick. "Alone?"

She shook her head. "With another man."

His brows rose. "Hmm. I suppose she could have been married to someone else a year ago."

"She could have been, but she wasn't." Kate nodded in Dan's direction. "Dan's Motznik buddy pulled up a marriage certificate for Mark and Carol dated six years ago."

"Really," Jim said, glass arrested halfway to his mouth. "Did Viola know who the other guy was?"

The jukebox blared out Aerosmith and Kate winced. "She can't remember his name. It reminded her of fish. She said sardine, and then she said that wasn't right."

"Description?"

Kate shrugged.

"Great." Jim drained his glass, and regarded Mark Stewart over the rim of it. "You ever been charged by a bear, Kate?"

Kate took another drink. "Does day before yesterday count?"

"I thought the three of you were in the truck."

She shook her head. "I got charged on the homestead the day before that."

Jim gave Kate a sharp look that held the beginnings of understanding. "Tell me."