“She likes to sleep late,” I said. “We’ll come over to your place when she’s ready.”
“Okey doke.”
“Thanks again, Beau.”
“You’re more than welcome, my friend. You have yourself a good night.”
The wind rose to a shriek. The room lights flickered.
I crossed to the bay window and parted the curtains.
The marina was underwater. Waves spumed against the peninsular edge, froth surged over the plaza, obliterating the boundary between land and sea.
Regina tiptoed in around midnight.
I removed my earplugs and sat up. “How’d it go?”
“I gotta new bestie.”
Unable to question Jenelle directly about Dave Pelman, Prado, or Nick, she’d steered their conversation toward the male species. Concentrating on me and our “marriage.”
“I shared that we’re going through a bumpy patch. My anxiety. Your erectile dysfunction. All the juicy deets.”
“Thanks for that.”
“I’m very committed to my craft.”
“Did she reciprocate with her own personal stuff?”
“It took a bottle and a half, but then the dam blew. Her parents built the hotel. They were among the first to buy, back in the sixties. She grew up here. She said there used to be more permanent residents, but over time they died or moved or got bought out.”
“Bought out, or pushed out?”
“I’m not sure there’s a difference,” she said. “She’s skittish about the Bergstroms.”
“They’ve threatened her, too?”
“That’s not the feeling I got. More general unease than outright fear.”
I said, “Like living in a dictatorship and knowing you won’t lead the rebellion. But that doesn’t mean you’re complicit. I was sure she was going to call Beau after we checked in, to warn him we were in town, but he looked caught off guard.”
Regina nodded. “She depends on the Bergstroms but doesn’t like it. I asked her about tourist season. It doesn’t exist. There’s no way she’s staying afloat without help.”
“They’re subsidizing her.”
“Or, Shasta is. Technically.”
I said, “Al Bock told me no one lives here unless the Bergstroms want them to. What purpose does Jenelle serve?”
“The few visitors do need lodging, she’s there. It gives the appearance of a regular old vacation destination.”
“She doesn’t make waves,” I said, “no reason for the Bergstroms to upset the status quo. What’d she have to say about Dave?”
“He moved here as a kid with his mom.”
“The beauty queen.”
“He and Jenelle were never legally married. He knocked her up and ran off.”
“Stand-up guy.”
“She didn’t seem bitter. Then his mom got sick and he came back. Jenelle said he tried to rekindle it. ‘I’m a changed man,’ that kinda bullshit. She kicked him to the curb.”
“Smart lady.”
“She is. I like her.”
“Trust her?”
“As much as I trust any of these folks.”
“Low bar,” I said. “Did she describe the relationship between Dave and Kurt?”
“Nope, and I couldn’t find a way to bring it up. Who we did talk about was her on-again, off-again, of the last twenty years.”
“Emil?”
She Xed her arms and made a buzzing sound.
I stared. “Al?”
“Ding ding ding ding ding.”
“Whoa.”
“Wild, right? And I wasn’t even asking. She goes, ‘Is your other car okay? Did you get the mirror fixed?’ I told her the maniac who shot it out paid for the repair. She goes, ‘Aw, he’s not so bad, once you get to know him.’ I could see she was trying not to laugh. I prodded, and she’s all, ‘No big deal, once upon a time me and him had a little thing.’ ”
“Maybe why he feels protective toward her son.”
“I had the same thought.”
“If Al did do something to Prado,” I said, “would she know about it?”
Regina shook her head. “I don’t know. Hard to tell if this thing between her and Al is the real deal or just a product of circumstance.”
“They’re both lonely.”
“Everyone here’s lonely,” she said. “That’s why they talk.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in all that psychology bullshit.”
“I believe in what works. Did you hear from Beau?”
I told her the plan. “He wanted to meet here but I said we’d come to the house.”
“You run interference while I sneak into his office?”
“Lady issues are a bitch.”
She laughed. “And Daddy Emil? What’s our play with him?”
“Stick to real estate, give him plenty of rope, and see if he says anything incriminating.”
“And when he hands us papers to sign?”
“We tell him we’ll bring it to our own attorney for review.”
“You don’t think that’ll make them suspicious?”
“If I were them, I’d be more suspicious if we didn’t want a lawyer to look at it.”
She sat for a while, saying nothing, digesting. “It’s late.”
She took her pajamas and toothbrush, and went out. I stuck in my earplugs and rolled over.
Chapter 39
The next morning Jenelle looked tired and hungover, avoiding eye contact with us as she set out breakfast.
“Will you need the room again?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Can we let you know?”
“Noon. Full day after that.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“This is all so good, by the way,” Regina said.
Jenelle nodded and retreated to the kitchen.
We ate our fill and went to the room to prep.
Regina said, “New strategy: You skip the sawmill Meet up with us later at the house, once Emil’s there.”
“Why?”
“Beau’s a lech. I’ll get more out of him, one-on-one. Plus it frees you up to talk to Shasta.”
“We can do that together, afterward.”
“No matter what you say, I think it’s gonna spook the Bergstroms when we balk. If they start getting hostile, we might have to clear out in a hurry. We need to be efficient.”
“You said yourself we can’t force things with Shasta.”
“Okay, but better something than nothing. If you’re really getting nowhere, you can drop Nick on her. She has a conscience, she may spill.”
“It has to be a game-time decision,” I said. “I’m not going to try unless I’m confident it won’t backfire.”
“Up to you. Worst case, we leave, spend a few months building a relationship with her over the internet. Given her age, that might even work better.”
“Or they all close ranks and we miss any shot we have with her.”
“They could do that anyway.”
I said nothing.
“Fortune favors the bold,” Regina said.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m in.”
“What’s your excuse for begging off?”
“An old knee injury acting up.”
“I guess that works.”
“You have a better idea?” I asked.
“I was thinking a severe attack of ED.”
I dressed in the bathroom and met Regina on the landing. She’d undergone another transformation, selecting an outfit best described as Schoolgirl Hiker Minx: leggings with mesh cutouts, snug tank top exposing a crescent of firm midriff, pigtails. The addition of a Patagonia fleece retrieved her from the realm of pure male fantasy. The gun purse hung unobtrusively at her side.
She twirled a braid. “How do I look?”
“Like a woman whose husband has erectile dysfunction.”