Alpine Gamble by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online Page A

Bronskys had been to Palm Springs in January.
The Advocate
had carried an account of their trip, which had centered around Ed's sighting of various aging celebrities and Shirley's shopping exploits. It was only later, after the Bronskys returned to Alpine, that we had heard the
real
news: Ed had been mugged on route to a local convenience store to get a couple dozen burritos. Maybe Palm Springs was losing some of its luster, at least for Ed.
    “Now cabins are another matter,” Ed was saying in a musing voice. “You could build cabins, maybe a small restaurant. But that's about it.” His bloodshot eyes took on a bit of sparkle.
    I cocked my head to one side. “Ed—are you thinking about a contingency plan?”
    Ed gave a self-conscious shrug, making the Aqua-scutum raincoat quiver around his bulk. “It's an idea. These L.A. guys are going to bail out I could get some local investors together, maybe even go as far afield as Everett, and we'd come up with something realistic. Talk about jobs—Alpine could look to Ed Bronsky for them.”
    I tried to ignore Ed's pompous stance. If he wanted to play lord of the manor, why not? Ed had rarely earned his salary at
The Advocate;
maybe it was only fitting that he should help other people earn theirs.
    “But,” I pointed out, “Fannucci and Levine have struck a deal with Hollenberg.”
    “It's not a done deal yet,” Ed reminded me. “At best it'll take—what? Thirty days? At worst—which is my prediction—it'll never happen. They won't get the financing, they'll back out, Leonard'11 get cold feet, the whole thing will blow away. Then I'll step in, offerLeonard say fifty grand, and we're airborne. What do you think?”
    To be fair, it wasn't an implausible scenario. If, for some reason, Fannucci and Levine couldn't come up with the money, Leonard Hollenberg probably would be just as happy selling to a local, even at a lesser price. Certainly he wouldn't be as open to criticism from the electorate.
    “Okay, Ed, you're making sense. We'll have to see what happens.” I gave my ex-employee a genuine smile. “Just let me be the first to hear about it. I don't want the story broken in
The Everett Herald
or
The Seattle Times.”
    I was kidding, but Ed didn't think so. “You got it, Emma,” he said, very seriously. “I wouldn't bother with
The Herald
or
The Times
anyway. I'd go straight to
The Wall Street Journal.
I subscribe now, you know.”
    “Good for you,” I said, allowing Ed to shake my hand. He waddled away, leaving me in peace. Or so it seemed, until Vida showed up less than five minutes later. She was wearing her version of a business suit, which was a collarless beige linen jacket over a matching straight skirt. The chartreuse polyester blouse and the brown broad-brimmed felt hat with its garnet roses didn't enhance the illusion. However, I couldn't help but be intrigued when Vida closed the door behind her. My staff members rarely did such a thing unless they were going to talk about sex or money. While
The Advocate's
employees had little of either commodity in their lives, it was usually the latter, rather than the former.
    But I was wrong about Vida. She had let the brown hat slip down so that her eyes, as well as her glasses, were all but hidden. I was reminded of a spy from a World War II B-movie.
    “That ad,” she began in a hushed voice that did nothing to destroy my little fantasy. “I answered it.”
    Maintaining what I hoped was a sober, yet sympathetic expression, I leaned closer. “You did? You mean the one about a mature …” Offhand, I couldn't recall the rest of the lengthy wording. But Vida was nodding, causing the garnet roses to bob. “Have you heard anything?” I inquired.
    Pushing the brim of her hat off her forehead, Vida regarded me with her gimlet eye. “Of course not. I only wrote to the P.O. box number today. I shouldn't expect any reply until Saturday, at least. Do you think I'm foolish?”
    The anxiety in Vida's voice moved me.