Authors: Christy Evans
Lead-Pipe Cinch (10 page)
Sleep was out of the question, at least in part because it was only nine o’clock.
I considered calling Sue and telling her about the sheriff’s visit. She was definitely a night person, often watching TV or reading until well past midnight, so it was still plenty early to call her.
Except there are some things you never outgrow. And one of those things was my mother’s insistence that you never called anyone after 8:00 P.M., unless it was an absolute emergency.
I didn’t think Sheriff Mitchell’s visit qualified as an emergency. At least I hoped it didn’t.
Instead, I changed into my workout clothes. The second bedroom of my little rental was outfitted with mats for martial arts practice. It wasn’t as good as sparring and tumbling with a partner, but it still allowed me to practice.
I moved through my routine. The twisting, tumbling, and reaching were far different from the moves I used on the job, and I could feel different muscles stretching and pulling as I worked.
It would be great to have a partner. I had tried to interest Sue but she said she already had a proven method of self-defense. It was called running away. She said it was clear I needed it, though, since I was the one who got shot at and chased by murderers.
I explained to her that martial arts were more about balance and serenity than fighting. She said if she was any more serene, she’d be in a coma.
I didn’t have an answer for that one, because she was right. Sue maintained a calm and sunny outlook on life, and seemed quite content. I was the one who needed serenity.
Especially now. Stan Fischer was on his way to Pine Ridge.
In the morning I was no more serene.
I was barely out of bed when the phone rang for the first time. It was Barry.
“The sheriff still has the McComb site under wraps,” he said, when I answered. “We can’t work out there until he’s through, and I don’t have anything else going today.”
“That’s okay, Bear.” It was a nickname I didn’t use often, though it fit him. He was my boss, after all, even though he sometimes felt like the older brother I’d never had. “There’s some work at the Homes for Hope house that’s been waiting for me to have some spare time. I can catch up on a couple projects over there today.”
“You sure? I might be able to get you a couple hours in the office.”
“I don’t think Angie would appreciate my help,” I said. “She has things running just fine without me messing it up.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” Barry sounded relieved. There was no need for anyone else in the office, but he knew I needed the money.
“I’m fine, Barry. Got the month covered.”
“That’s good then. By the way, Paula says to stop by and have some coffee if you’re downtown. Says she hasn’t seen you in a while.”
“Tell her I will. The Hope house should only be a couple hours of work, unless they find something else for me to do. I’ll swing by after I’m through.”
It was a luxury to have some extra time in the morning. I let the dogs out and made a pot of coffee.
The Hope house crew didn’t start as early as Barry did, so I even had time for some toast and the last of the marmalade. I needed to do some grocery shopping, but I had a suddenly free afternoon to take care of neglected domestic duties.
Homes for Hope was a local chapter of the national organization. After my first days in high tech it seemed only right to try and give something back. So I became a volunteer, and as I gained experience in plumbing I got to do more and more on the projects.
The house was nearing completion, nearly ready for a deserving family to move in and start a new life. It was why I donated my time—the idea that with each project I helped give one family a fresh start.
When I arrived at the house the dishwasher was ready to install, then the sink and garbage disposal. I checked in with Carl Adams, the project leader, and wormed my way into the base cabinet that would house the dishwasher.
A plumber spends a lot of time under sinks, or under houses. It gave me a unique perspective on the world, looking at the rest of the crew from their toes to about their knees. I got to know people by their shoes.
Carl’s engineer boots, for instance. Well-worn black leather with straps and buckles around the ankles, they fit with who he was and what he did.
A pair of stiletto heels tapped into sight, shattering the early morning calm.
My mother. I had to stop thinking about people and making them appear; it was creeping me out.
“Georgiana? Are you under there? I saw your car, dear, and stopped to check on you. You never called me.”
My mother’s face appeared in the open face of the cabinet, upside down. “Georgiana?”
I waved her back and shimmied out. One thing you didn’t do to Sandra Neverall was ignore her. It never worked out well.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said, walking back toward the front of the house, away from the rest of the crew. “I got busy, and then it was late. I know how you hate for people to call late.”
“Yes. But you’re my daughter. You could call me.” She picked a piece of imaginary lint off her impeccably tailored suit with her freshly manicured nails.
Plum Crazy. It had been my favorite color, in my manicure days, and it was a perfect description of how Mom made me feel.
“What brings you out here?” I asked. “Isn’t it kind of early?”
She turned her wrist and glanced at a dainty gold watch I’d never seen before. The twinkle of diamonds surrounded the face, and she caught my appraising glance. “A gift,” she said, before I could comment. “For my work on the Clackamas Commons Development.”
A gift from Gregory, she meant. It was the sort of thing I would expect him to give her—shiny, expensive, and showy. Something that would publicly mark her as his property.
The same kind of gifts Blake used to give me; most of which ended up in a resale shop to fund my trip back to Oregon.
“Yes, it is a little early, but I have to go check on the subcontractors at the Commons. We’re having a problem with the landscapers, and I wanted to straighten it out before I went to the office.”
I nodded, and looked at my own battered plastic watch. “I really need to get back to work, Mom.”
“Do you know what’s really going on, Georgie? I heard that man
died
in the moat. And now the sheriff has closed the site indefinitely. Do you really think it’s safe?” For a moment, my mother’s façade cracked. I heard fear in her voice and saw real worry on her face.
died
in the moat. And now the sheriff has closed the site indefinitely. Do you really think it’s safe?” For a moment, my mother’s façade cracked. I heard fear in her voice and saw real worry on her face.
“I don’t know much, Mom. He was apparently out there in the middle of the night. There’s no light, and it looks like he fell in the moat and drowned.” I shook my head. “It’s perfectly safe to work out there. We take all the necessary safety precautions. And we don’t wander around in the dark.”
I reached over and squeezed Mom’s hand. There was a hint of looseness in the skin on the back of her hand, a reminder that she was getting older. Maybe she was feeling it, too.
She smiled at me, her relief clear. “I didn’t know he was out there in the dark. All I’ve heard are rumors and gossip and some wild stories. This makes a lot more sense.”
“It’s okay, Mom. It was a stupid accident—sad for him and his friends and family, but an accident. Don’t give it any more thought.”
She nodded and punched the unlock button for her Escalade. “Have to go take care of the landscapers,” she said.
She climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled her seat belt across her shoulder. A lamb’s-wool cover kept the belt from wrinkling her crisp white blouse. “We should have dinner again soon,” she said before she started the car. “I’ll call you.”
“Not Tuesday,” I reminded her. “Classes start again on Tuesday.” My mother had a habit of conveniently forgetting things she didn’t want to acknowledge, like my plumbing classes at the community college.
I went back to work in the kitchen. From under the sink I was nearly invisible to the rest of the crew. I could hear the pounding of hammers and the occasional whine of a saw, but they sounded far away.
When the dishwasher was done, I got Carl to help me set the sink in place. Connecting the drains and feeds and installing the disposal took the rest of my shift, but I was done well before lunchtime.
I checked out with Carl, accepted his thanks for my work, and jumped into the Beetle. There was time to stop and see Paula before I had to go walk the dogs.
The library sat at one corner of the high school. Its white clapboard siding hadn’t changed in as long as I could remember, and much longer than that, according to my mother.
I’d spent a lot of my afternoons hiding out in the cool stacks, avoiding the social ambitions my mother had for me. She thought I should be a cheerleader; I wanted to join the Computer Club. I compromised by doing neither. Instead I hung around the library and read a lot.
The late Martha Tepper had been the librarian then. Now Paula ran the library. A computer terminal had replaced the trays of checkout cards, but the carousel of stamps still sat on the desk behind the tall counter, and the basket for returns was in the same place on top of the counter.
There was something reassuring about the sameness of the library—a familiar place where I always felt welcome.
Paula was at her desk, a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. The glasses were a recent addition. She quickly pulled them off and tucked them in the pocket of her jacket when I came in.
It was the jacket that caught my attention. On the lapel was a familiar brooch. It had belonged to Martha Tepper and the elder librarian had worn it every day.
Paula caught my glance and gestured self-consciously at the brooch. “Janis said I should have it. That it belonged in the library.”
“How is Janis?” I asked over my shoulder as I headed for the tiny kitchen at the back of the building. Paula kept the coffee on all day, and it was usually fresh. She drank it too fast for it to get stale.
“She’s good,” Paula said, following me back. “Getting used to being a woman of means.” Janis had inherited Miss Tepper’s sizable estate.
“I’m sure she’ll manage,” I said lightly. “And what about you? How are you doing?”
“Better than you, from what I hear,” she answered.
We took our coffee back up front, and Paula went back to tapping computer keys, logging in returns. It was second nature to her, and she kept up the conversation as she worked.
“Barry says you knew the guy that had the accident. That he was somebody you used to work with. Or something like that.”
She was fishing for information. Clearly, Barry had said something that made her think there was more to the story. Maybe because there was.
I debated how much to tell her. I’d told Sue, but she was my oldest and best friend. Paula, though, was a close second.
“We worked together. It was complicated. We had a personal relationship as well as a business one, and it all ended very badly.”
I paused to sip my coffee. Paula didn’t say anything. She just waited for me to go on.
“It’s not something I like to talk about. It was a bad time, it’s over, and I put it behind me. Ancient history.”
“Then what was he doing here?” Paula glanced up from her typing long enough to give me a puzzled look. “I mean, if he was such ancient history, why was he in Pine Ridge?”
“According to what I heard, he was here on a job. Computer security for the McComb place.”
Paula glanced up again. “Computer security? There weren’t any computers. The place isn’t even built yet!”
“There’s a lot that can be done during construction,” I said. I started to explain about wiring and shields and hard-wired systems.
Paula’s eyes widened and I stopped talking.
“You really know all that, Georgie. You ought to be doing computer stuff, not being a plumber.”
I shook my head. Something occurred to me and I narrowed my eyes. “How much has Barry told you?”
“Nothing really,” she said quickly. “Just that you know a lot about computers, but you don’t talk about it much.”
I sighed. Secrets could be a real pain. “I used to work in high tech, okay? Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Don’t want to go back ever again.”
“Whatever you say. But you know Pine Ridge isn’t exactly in the heart of the Silicone Rain Forest. I just think you’ve got some talents you keep hidden.”
“Yeah, I’m a regular Jedi master of computers.”
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Paula. “C’mon,” she said. “You know there are people around here who’d welcome the help with that kind of stuff. If you ever change your mind . . .” She held her hands out, palms up.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I laughed. “But you can tell Barry you tried. He’s still stuck with a lady plumber.”
Paula blushed. “That wasn’t Barry talking, that was me. I wish there was someone around here I could go to for help when this system goes haywire.”
“Ooooh, I get it. You heard I helped Barry, and you want in on the deal. Why didn’t you say so?”
“I admit I’d like the help,” she said. “But I really think you could—oh, never mind. You’re going to do exactly what you want, and nobody’s going to change your mind.” She chuckled. “If your mother couldn’t, and Wade couldn’t, what chance do I think I have?”
She was so right it made me laugh. “No chance, Paula. But if you have a problem, you can call me. As long as you don’t mention it to anyone else. I’m really not interested in starting up my own company here.”
Like my mother, I could conveniently forget things, too. I told Paula I wasn’t interested in starting a business in Pine Ridge. So why was I interested in the empty storefront on Main Street that would make a great martial arts studio?
Paula and I visited a little longer. She didn’t know anything more than I did about Blake’s death, though we both agreed it had been a really dumb idea to go out to the McComb site in the dark.
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