This Little Piggy Went to Murder (22 page)

“What?”

“Do sauna doors ever swell shut?”

“What?” She moved in front of him and tried the handle. It turned easily enough, but the door wouldn’t budge. “Damn.” She tried again. “I’ll bet someone’s slipped something through those metal brackets outside. I doubt we can force it open. I’ll try to put the fire out.”

Bram pushed his body hard against it. “No! Don’t do that. It’ll just make the smoke worse.”

“We’ve got to do something!” Sophie could feel the panic rising in her chest.

Amanda stepped out of the tall grass at the edge of the beach and stopped. In the distance she could hear the sound of children laughing. Glancing momentarily at the white-washed cottage, she noticed several small boys playing on the swing set in the front yard. Today was Wednesday. She was pretty sure Jenny took care of five or six children today. It was a cool, cloudless morning. The gulls were dipping and diving off the rocky point, near the lighthouse. “There you are,” she called, spotting Luther sitting alone on a rock. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

Hearing her voice, he raised his head. “You found me.” The wind flattened his dark hair hard against his forehead.

“You look like a pirate.” She smiled, shading her eyes from the sun as she approached. “My pirate.”

“You can join me if you’d like. I’d enjoy the company.” He moved over slightly. “Are you out for a walk?”

“No. I came to find you.”

“Sit with me then.”

She did as he asked, taking his hand in hers. “How are you feeling today? I didn’t see you at breakfast.”

Luther shrugged. “The same. No worse really.”

As they sat for a few minutes in companionable silence, Amanda found herself wishing he would put his arm around her, just like the old days. Something inside her ached for the way things used to be. Yet, surely both of them knew their marriage had reached the point of no return. The old days were long dead. Strange that her body still responded to his touch. Life, unlike art, was never black and white, with neat beginnings and clearly defined endings. She could feel him stir. “What is it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Luther, I was thinking …”

He turned to look at her.

Under the intense gaze of his blue eyes, Amanda felt oddly uncomfortable. “Well, you see, it struck me this morning how strange it is that one’s life can end up so different from what one planned.”

He gripped her hand tightly.

“Luther, what I’m trying to say …”

“Please,” he said, quickly standing up. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I do. Don’t cut me off. We never talk anymore.”

His face was a dark silhouette against the bright sun. “I think we’d best get back to the house. I’d like to clean up before lunch.”

Amanda knew it was no use. Quietly, she rose. “Of course. We’ll talk later — when you feel more rested.”

Luther led the way through the tall grass. They paused briefly at the edge of the woods to pick and eat a few late raspberries still clinging to the tangled vines. As they reached the lawn in front of the house, he stopped. “I smell something.” He sniffed the air.

“It’s probably the wood fire in the sauna. Sophie asked Alice to have someone get it ready for her this morning.”

Luther turned around. “And I hear something. Don’t you?”

“I don’t hear anything. Come on. Let’s get back before you’re completely exhausted.”

“Listen.” He cupped a hand over his ear. “Someone’s pounding on something — and shouting. Don’t you hear it? Something’s wrong, Amanda. Come on!”

Reluctantly, she followed him back into the woods. They took a familiar shortcut, jumping over rocks and fallen branches. Luther reached the clearing first, rushing to the cabin door and pulling away the piece of wood that prevented it from opening. Bram burst out, collapsing on the dirt path. “Sophie!” he gasped, pointing over his shoulder. Luther took a huge gulp of air and disappeared into the smoke. An instant later he reappeared carrying Sophie in his arms. He laid her on the ground next to Bram and brushed the tangled hair away from her face. “She’s breathing,” he cried. He looked up, shouting at Amanda. “Run, damn it! Call 911! Tell them it’s an emergency! Tell them to send someone from Two Harbors!”

Amanda seemed paralyzed. She stood staring at the open door.

“For God’s sake, Amanda, hurry! There’s no time. She’s inhaled a lot of smoke. Run!”

Amanda appeared to be startled by his words, as if they had brought her back from someplace far away. She looked at Sophie and then at Bram. “Of course,” she whispered. “Right away.”

“She’s going to be all right,” said one of the paramedics a few minutes later. He held an oxygen mask over Sophie’s nose and mouth. Bram sat on the grass next to her, gently rubbing her arm. Every so often he would reach up and scrape a tear away from his cheek.

“We need to get you two to a hospital,” said the woman standing next to Luther. “You have to be checked over. I think the doctor will want to admit you both for observation.”

Sophie brushed the mask away from her face. “No, I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I don’t want to go to a hospital.”

“Well, we’re both going,” said Bram. “So shut up.”

Sophie closed her eyes.

“Barring any complications,” said the standing paramedic, “you should be able to come home tomorrow.”

Home, thought Sophie. That seemed so far away. Her chest ached as she tried to sit up.

“No you don’t,” said Luther, crouching down. “These folks will take care of everything. You just lie still. Amanda and I will come into town later this afternoon to see you.” He laid his hand on Bram’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” said Sophie, blinking up at him. She was slowly beginning to realize just how weak she was.

The paramedic kneeling next to her lifted the oxygen mask back over her face. “Both of you are going to have sore lungs for a few days.”

“No marathons,” said Bram, squeezing her hand.

“None for you either,” said the paramedic. He glanced at Amanda. “It was a good thing you found them. They could have died in there.”

Amanda nodded.

“We’re going to have to report this to the police. Someone stuffed a pile of rags into the vent behind the cabin.”

Bram coughed several times, trying to rid his lungs of the foul smoke. “Oh, one more thing. There’s a typewriter inside there sitting on a woodpile. The police need to come get it right away. It may be important evidence in a murder investigation.” He shivered as he watched Sophie lying so still, her eyes closed, her face frighteningly pale. A wave of anger passed over him. Somebody was going to pay for this, damn it. Somebody was going to pay dearly.

Jenny buttered a piece of toast as she looked out the kitchen window at several little boys who were playing in the sandbox next to Ryan’s new greenhouse. Two more children would be arriving at the cottage in less than an hour. She loved to watch children play. So intense. So serious about their pleasure. And so absolutely unaware of the kind of world they were growing up into.

“Nora is coming over in a few minutes,” shouted Ryan from the other room.

Wonderful, thought Jenny. She bit off a corner of the toast. What a treat so early in the day.

Ryan swung into the kitchen, adjusting his tie as he crossed to the refrigerator. He stopped abruptly when he noticed her sullen look. “I want you to be nice to her, Jen. At least try to get along.” His deep voice registered perfect calm.

Jenny knew the tone well. She dropped the toast on her plate with a loud thunk. “What’s wrong with us, Ryan? It seems like all we do lately is argue.”

Ryan ignored the question and reached inside the refrigerator for a carton of milk. He was always terribly thirsty after his morning run in the woods. “Tonight is the Northern Environmentalists annual meeting in Duluth. Remember? I told you about it last week.” He drank directly from the carton. “Well,” he said between gulps, “are you planning to go or not?”

Jenny picked at her toast. She hated it when he treated her like that, ignoring her comments. He was so self-important. So morally superior. “I don’t like her, Ryan. And I don’t think I should have to hide my feelings in my own home. After all, even you said how manipulative she is. How she’s done plenty of things behind Jack’s back — things he would never approve of. If you ask me, nobody needs a wife like her.”

“Nobody’s asking your opinion,” answered Ryan, shutting the refrigerator door. He grabbed his briefcase and headed into the living room. “Damn junk,” he muttered, kicking a toy truck out of his way. “Why don’t you pick these toys up once in a while?”

Jenny followed. “That’s just the problem. You used to ask me my opinion. You trusted me. But Nora’s gotten you involved in things you’re afraid to tell me about, hasn’t she? Bad things.”

“That’s crap, Jenny. I don’t know where you get these ideas. You know, ever since —”

“Ever since what?” she snapped. “Ever since this?” She put her hand on her stomach. “You can’t even say it, can you? I’m going to have a baby. Our baby.”

Ryan sank into a chair.

“It’s your child too, you know.”

“I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t dream of being unfaithful to me. I’m a lucky man.”

“But you’d be unfaithful to me, wouldn’t you?” Her words stung like acid.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” she said angrily, striding back into the kitchen. She rarely asserted herself. It felt good.

Ryan shouted from the living room. “Jenny, come back in here. We’re not done talking.”

“l am,” she called. She dropped the toast into the waste-basket.

He appeared in the doorway, his face flushed. “I want to know what you meant by that last comment”

“I should think you of all people would know what ‘go fuck yourself’ means.”

“Jenny, you know I don’t like you using that kind of language. You just do it to hurt me. Now, I demand to know what you meant.”

“Okay, don’t go fuck yourself. How about, go piss up a tree. I believe that means essentially the same thing.”

He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. “Why are you doing this? You’re trying to start a fight, aren’t you? I don’t get it. If it isn’t the pregnancy, what is it?”

“Damn you, Ryan. Don’t you blame this baby for your sleeping around. If you didn’t want a child then you should have let me use my diaphragm. You’re the one who said, ‘No, no, honey, if you get pregnant, that’s great! Don’t spoil the moment.’ “

Ryan’s hands tightened around her shoulders.

“That’s right. Hurt me. Slap me around.”

Quickly he released his grip. “I’d never do that. You know better than to say something like that!”

“No? Is it against the Ryan Woodthorpe code of ethics? But sleeping with Chelsea Jorensen is acceptable, right?”

He looked momentarily surprised. “You’re crazy. I don’t know where you got that idea.”

“Nora Grendel,” said Jenny. “Last night. In case you hadn’t noticed, she loves to drop little hints. Did she suggest it? Good for your career? Do you love Chelsea, Ryan? Or is this just one more deal you’re trying to cut in the great cause of your own political future. You disgust me sometimes. You are so transparent.”

He turned around, his expression full of frustrated rage. “There aren’t many politicians in this country today committed to saving our earth. Who says I wouldn’t make a good leader?I love the North Shore, Jenny. No, I take that back. I don’t just love it, it’s
part
of me. Part of my soul. Don’t you feel it, too? All around us this vibrant, trembling life. It needs someone to protect it. The protection of a lover. My protection! Most people aren’t interested in environmental issues. They only vote because they prefer futility over complete passivity. But just wait until the rivers turn foul. Wait till the land is so choked with poison, we cant’t even eat the food. Then they’ll listen. They’ll look around for good men like Jack and me to lead them out of the muck. But we have to get elected first.Think about that, Jen. If I had enough money and power, I could make a real difference. This is a bigger issue than just you or me. I’m totally committed to Jack and Nora — and yes, to my own career.”

Jenny kicked a toy bear across the floor. “Never have I heard a more eloquent, creative argument for being a pure bastard. Those are words, Ryan. Nothing more. What about our baby? Doesn’t its
‘vibrant, trembling life’
concern you?”

“Just drop it,” he snapped. “You obviously don’t understand.” He turned and left the room.

“I hate you!” She picked up a plastic helicopter and threw it at him.

The doorbell sounded. Ryan crossed to the door and opened it. “Nora,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m all ready for the meeting. Just let me get my briefcase.”