Presumption Of Death

Sitting at the di

“I thought you liked meat loaf,” Paul said.

The glare intensified. “Closing the office. Ru

“I thought you were glad to go to Washington,” Nina said, feeling defensive. “How’s your work going?”

“Ever been there?” Sandy asked.

“No,” Nina said.

“You never saw so many pink-cheeked little old men in one place at one time before in your life.”

“I’ve heard,” Nina said, “you’re doing good work up there, Sandy. The people in Tahoe are really proud of you. I saved an article from the Mirror about how much you’ve already improved the visibility of the Washoe tribe. ‘An effective and vigorous presence in Washington,’ they called you.”

“What do they know?” Sandy said, although Nina thought she detected a minuscule relaxation of the stern crease between her eyebrows.

“How long will you be working there?” Paul asked. “Must be hard on Joseph, you working on the East Coast.”

“Maybe a couple of months, if these people working with me are ready to take over then. Then I’m back at the ranch with Joseph at Tahoe. And visiting my son, the convict, the way things look.”

“Is Joseph coming down?”

“He’s laid up for a month. He had a little accident and can’t get around.”

“Don’t worry,” Nina said. “We’ll find a way out of this.”

“At least he came to you as soon as he could.”

“He’s feeling very bad about his poor judgment in following Da

“I won’t be hard on him. Joseph’s the one who’s go

Shocked, Nina said, “Wait a minute, Sandy. Wish isn’t going to be convicted of anything. Maybe you have the wrong impression. He didn’t do anything.”

Sandy picked up her fork. “Well, bon appétit,” she said. “He did something, all right. Got himself in legal trouble.”

Nina couldn’t deny that. After a moment she went on, “There’s something I need to ask you about. This arson investigator, David Crockett…”

Her mouth opened slightly, an expression tantamount to astonishment in her. “Who? Are you kidding me?”

“Not at all.”

“Davy Crockett? That’s not a good sign. Oh, boy. You know who he was?” Sandy asked.

“The historic Davy? Sure. He was the king of the wild frontier, the buckskin buccaneer. Kilt him a bear when he was only three,” Paul said.

“His grandparents were killed by the Creek and Cherokees when the grandparents tried to steal tribal land in eastern Te

“I didn’t know that,” Nina said.

“No friend to the Indians. Killed as many as he could. Commanded a battalion in the war to bring down the Creek Indians in 1813.”

“This guy’s name is just a fluke,” Nina said. “I’m sure his politics aren’t affected by anything so remote.”

“Did you ask him?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know? It’s too much of a coincidence. It must mean something.”

“Anyway,” Nina said. “If I may return to my point, Detective Crockett told us that Wish was arrested as a juvenile for some kind of arson.”

“Now, how would he know that?”

“Was he?”

“You know how many boys take fireworks out into a field and try to blow things up?” Sandy asked.

“Yeah, we had some fun,” Paul said.

“They sure made a big deal of a pile of kids blasting out a dead stump,” Sandy said. “Too bad they don’t put as much energy into saving the live ones. And aren’t those records supposed to be sealed?”

“Yes,” Nina said, “but you can’t always depend on the rules working properly. People…”

“Bend them,” Sandy said. “Davy Crockett. Oh, boy.” She took a bite of meat loaf, chewed slowly, tried some more, and then ate down to the bare plate.

“Now then,” she said. “Let’s get the money straight.” She opened her purse and took out her checkbook. “I’m retaining you both.”

“I knew it. You do love my meat loaf,” Paul said. “Consider that my payment.”

“It was good. Lots of ketchup, and the crumbs were toasted right.”

“There you have it,” Paul told Nina. “Now for some strawberry shortcake.”

“But I want to hire you. Now, don’t turn this into something mushy. Joseph and I are giving you this check.” She tried to hand Nina a check for a thousand dollars. Nina wouldn’t take it.

“We insist,” Sandy said. “And there’s more available when you need it.”

“I can’t take your money, Sandy,” Nina said.

“Why not? My money’s not good enough for you? My boy’s a charity case?”

“Of course not-”

“I’ll write out the receipt for myself. And watch out for that Crockett man.”

Nina let the check lie on the table. For now.

They finished the meal quickly, then Nina and Paul dropped Sandy off at the jail to talk with Wish. Before she got out of the car, Sandy said to Nina, “When you coming home?”

“You mean to Tahoe? I just got here.”

“Seen your dad?”

“Not yet.”

“You should do that.”

“What is bothering you about me being here?”

“Look around you.” Sandy waved her arm with its silver bracelets. “See any mountains here? And what about this gray cloud you live in?”

“I’m glad she’s here,” Paul told her, squeezing Nina’s hand, “and I’m glad Wish came down. In spite of everything.” He seemed to remember something and withdrew his hand hastily. Nina knew it was their argument he had remembered. She let him move away.

Stepping away from the car, Sandy smoothed her coat, working up to something. Finally, she said, “Find out who’s behind this, Paul. I’m trusting you.”

“Wish is in good hands,” Paul said. “Hard, craggy, experienced hands.”

“Hmph.” She went into the jail building.

“Have a good flight back,” Paul called to her. Nina got into the front passenger seat and threw her arms around him before he could turn the key in the ignition.

“Paul, I’m exhausted. I forgot how she is.”

His body felt stiff, but she held on anyway and pressed her face into his collar, because she needed him and didn’t care about the stupid argument anymore.

“Ah, Nina,” he said finally, and kissed her.

“Let’s get home,” she said. “That Sandy.”

“She’s stressed out. She’ll get her sense of humor back. I’ll send her a coonskin cap to wear in Washington.”

“I wouldn’t do that. I sure wouldn’t.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. Let’s go have a look at the Robles Ridge fire site.”

“Not early.”

“Not early.”

8

“I’ M JUST GETTING OVER POISON OAK. I’m not bushwhacking. Promise we’ll stay strictly on a trail. And we can’t take Hitchcock.”

“You won’t have to touch him. We’ll take the Bronco and keep him in back on the way home, and I’ll give him the bath of his life.”

“We ought to see it,” Nina said. “I agree.”

“Notice how well we work together this morning.”

“Two peas in a pod,” Nina said. She changed the shorts to long pants, pulled on knee-high cotton socks and her hiking boots, and stuffed cotton gloves in her pocket. How to protect her hair and face from brushing against the evil leaves? A scarf.

“You make a charming babushka,” Paul said.

Outside in the mist, she tossed the day pack with the water bottles into the back seat with Hitchcock, who stood on the bench seat, tongue hanging out the window, ready for anything. The oak trees were dripping and they might as well be underwater. She looked from Hitchcock to Paul, already strapped in, studying a map, leaning forward eagerly. “Two peas in a pod,” she said.

They drove out of the fog bank in five minutes and blinked into brilliant sunshine. Carmel Valley Road followed the river, although you never saw it, just the fields and oak forests and houses and golf courses it irrigated. The river was actually only a trickle now that summer had arrived.