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Authors: Judith Michael

Sleeping Beauty (41 page)

BOOK: Sleeping Beauty
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“In buckets?” Nina asked. “How quaint. Like the pioneers. And the miners.”

“Not quite,” Leo said dryly. “Unless you want to trade your Mercedes for a donkey.”

“The land above the reservoir,” Gail said quietly. “That's the company's property.”

Leo met her eyes. “Right. You think the gods are mad at the Chathams and Calders?” he asked Anne. “Maybe we ought to sacrifice a goat. Or find some of the old Ute Indians who lived here and ask them to do one of their dances for us. Sorry, I'm sounding paranoid.”

“I don't understand,” Nina said.

“It means The Tamarack Company could be liable if the contamination starts on its property,” Anne said. “That would be the second time,” she added, to Leo.

He nodded. “It's hard to believe . . . all at once. Look,”
he said when Nina still looked bewildered. “The mine tunnels were dug under the east end of town and ran a couple of miles east of that, up-valley. Ethan bought all that land and dug the reservoir, and never thought about the tailings on the surface. Well, none of us thought about them. But now it looks as if rainwater, and underground water, too, washed lead from the tailings and somehow got into Tamarack Creek, which feeds into our water plant. And we have to pay to clean it up. And we're already trying to negotiate with the EPA about the cleanup in town, where people live. Between the two of them it could cost a small fortune.”

“Is the water poisonous?” Marian asked.

“I don't know,” Leo said. “It sure as hell isn't good for us.”

“Then it has to be kept quiet,” Marian declared firmly.

“Right. Tell me how to do that.”

“You instruct people not to talk. That should be clear to everyone. We'll pay whatever costs there are; we're a responsible company. But our people will not be allowed to talk about it; neither will the townspeople. Good Lord, who would be hurt most by stories about poisonous water? A child could understand that.”

Leo shook his head. “Somebody always talks. The big problem is that it always gets printed. And you know why. As soon as a bunch of ex-kings and television and movie stars and Arabian sheiks built their houses here, Tamarack stopped being your everyday town and turned into news. You could leak a dozen stories about Alamosa or Durango; nobody'd print them. But the first whisper about us, especially a bad whisper, and readers eat it up. And this one's very bad. When it's a question of health or safety . . . My guess is we'll get a lot of cancellations. Just in time for the ski season.”

“Poor Charles,” Marian said. “He'll have trouble selling the company until this is over.”

“I guess that's the silver lining,” said Leo. “We won't hear any more talk about selling.”

“But Charles needs the money!” Nina cried.

“I don't think it's an issue anymore,” Leo said, avoiding an argument.

“Unless someone's trying to pick up a bargain,” Anne mused. “Someone already made a very low offer.”

“I doubt he'll make another one,” Leo said. “Nobody would be interested in us right now, with all the baggage we've got.” He stood up. “I want to see how they're getting set up with the water tanks. I won't be long.”

“May I come?” Anne asked. “I'd like to see how they do it. Gail, do you mind?”

“The great escape,” Gail murmured with a smile. “Of course not: you go ahead; we'll stay here and talk.”

“We'll bring water for all of us,” Leo said. “Marian, we'll drop yours off at your house.”

Outside, he pulled on his jacket and breathed deeply in the chill air. “End of summer. You can almost smell the snow. Were they cross-examining you?”

“Gail stopped them the first time. I wanted to avoid the second.”

He opened the car door for her. “What do you want us to do if Vince shows up? Shoot him? Maybe we should make him the sacrifice to the gods; spare the poor goat.”

Anne laughed. “Thank you, Leo. I couldn't ask you to do anything. If he came, I'd probably leave.”

“You mean temporarily.”

“Oh, yes. I won't leave for good, not again.”

“I'm glad.” He drove down the steep hill from Riverwood to the bottom of the valley and turned toward town. “We like having you around, Anne. I've never seen Gail so happy. And the kids are crazy about you.”

“I like being here,” Anne said simply. She gazed at Tamarack, glowing like a brilliant ornament nestled in the dark, encircling mountains. It was really two towns, she thought: one populated by four thousand residents who worked there, sent their children to school, voted and paid taxes, and growled about the changes taking place; the other, a town of twenty thousand tourists who came for a week or a month, demanded the finest services, complained about costs, peered around corners looking for celebrities, and left,
having walked through the first town as if it were invisible. For the most part, the two towns coexisted without much rancor in an alliance fueled by the tourists' dollars.

But tourists have to trust the town, Anne thought. And if they can't trust something as basic as its air and water, they'll distrust other things, too. And go somewhere else. And a town and a company can't survive that.

Leo parked the car three blocks from City Hall. “Can't get any closer; it looks like the whole town is here.” As they walked, they became part of a crowd filling the sidewalks and spilling over into the streets, flowing like a river around cars left helter-skelter by drivers who had simply walked away from them. Voices rose in the night air in a chorus of questions and attempts to find someone to blame as more and more people arrived, wedging themselves into an area in front of City Hall, in a flood of white light from temporary spotlights. On one side were two tank trucks; beside them chairs and a table had been set up with sheets of computer printouts. “Voter registration lists,” Leo said, following Anne's look as they came close. “For rationing. Lodge and hotel owners will sign for their guests; tourists who're renting houses and apartments will register for the time they're here. It ought to go smoothly.”

“Except for the worry,” Anne said, watching the crowd. It continued to swell; the clamor of voices grew in volume and pitch. “What I want to know,” someone yelled, “is how long have we been drinking poison?”

The mayor stood on the steps, waiting for workers to hook up his microphone. “What's it gonna cost, Mack?” someone shouted at him. “You expect us to pay for all this?”

The mayor shook his head. “We'll take care of it,” he said, but no one heard him in the rising cacophony.

In a few minutes one of the workers nodded. “OKAY,” boomed out the mayor's amplified voice. He held the microphone away from his mouth. “Okay,” he said again. “We've got water for everybody; we're working to solve the problem; there isn't anything to worry—”

“What happened?”
voices yelled.

“We don't know,” the mayor said. “Listen, nobody wants
a quick answer more than I do, but I haven't got one. What we have got is lead and a few other undesirable minerals in the drinking water, probably from the mine tailings above the town, probably seeping into Tamarack Creek, and you all know that's where our water comes from. We don't know how it's getting there; that's the truth. When we find out, we'll stop it and clean up the water and send these trucks home. That's a promise. But until then, we'll keep bringing in fresh water and nobody'll go without. You'll just pay your regular water bill, and the city and The Tamarack Company will take care of the difference. The important thing is, there's no danger to anyone.”

“How long's it been going on, Mack?”

“It's only been today. We've been testing every day since the EPA came to town, and this was caught at five o'clock this afternoon. Yesterday everything was fine. This morning everything was fine. I know that sounds peculiar, and we can't explain it, but the important thing is, we caught it right away. And there's plenty of water. We're rationing it, but we're doing it sensitively and intelligently; there's plenty for everybody. Now this is what we want you to do. When you get up to the table . . .”

“Leo,” said a voice behind Anne. She and Leo turned at the same time.

“Josh, good to see you!” Leo exclaimed. “I wondered if you were in town—” He stopped as Josh's gaze fixed on Anne. “Of course you know each other,” he said.

“This is an astonishing coincidence,” Josh said coolly. He cast a glance around. “You're not with Dora?”

“Dora's not here,” said Leo. “And I guess you don't know . . .” He raised his voice to compete with the noise of the crowd. “Josh, Anne is Gail's sister. She's staying with us for the weekend.”

“Gail's sister?”
Josh was still looking at Anne, a deep frown between his eyes. “I didn't know she had one.”

“I've been away for a long time,” Anne said.

“Dora's cousin,” he said.

“Yes.”

“And no one ever mentioned you.”

“It's complicated,” Leo said. He staggered a bit as the crowd surged forward. “Listen, why don't we go get a beer or a cup of coffee, and come back when things are quieter.”

“Why don't you go?” Anne suggested. “I'll wait in line.”

“What line?” Leo asked dryly. “This is like the opening of the Berlin Wall; everybody wants to be first. Come on, Anne, you heard our mayor. He's being sensitive and intelligent and there's plenty of water. Josh, you'll come, won't you?”

Josh and Anne exchanged a glance. His eyes were curious, filled with questions. Anne's face told him nothing at all. Someone lurched against them and Josh automatically put out his hand to help her keep her balance. “Good idea,” he said to Leo. “Do we use the wedge formation?”

Leo laughed. “Okay with you, Anne?”

“Yes.” She felt crushed by the crowd, and her first thought, to let the two of them go by themselves, now seemed foolish. “Which way shall we go?”

“Into battle,” Leo said. “Stay close.” The three of them plunged into the crowd, pushing against the flow. It was five minutes before they stood on a quiet corner, breathless and disheveled. “Like going the wrong way in a marathon,” Leo said with a grin. He smoothed his hair and adjusted his jacket. “Where shall we go?”

They looked at Anne. “Timothy's,” she said. “He doesn't need water; he has fifty kinds of beer.”

“My favorite place,” said Josh. They walked the few blocks in silence, through silent streets, and found the bar empty. Anne and Leo sat together on one side of a booth; Josh sat on the other side, his back against the unpainted brick wall, his legs stretched out on the green leather seat.

“When did you get in?” Leo asked.

“Thursday night.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At the Tamarack. I bought a house a couple of weeks ago but I'm having some work done on it.”

“That was quick. I wondered if you'd buy another place. Where is it?”

“Somewhere west of you.”

There was a pause. “You bought the Sterns' place.”

Josh nodded. “I didn't think you'd mind.”

“Mind! It's terrific. You've got the other end of Riverwood; walking distance. You can come for dinner anytime. I couldn't hope for a better neighbor. What are we drinking?”

“Anything in a bottle,” the owner said, standing beside the booth. “Hi, Anne.”

“You spend your time here?” Leo asked Anne with interest.

She smiled. “I came in last week. Timothy knew my grandfather and we had a long talk about him.”

“A prince and a gentleman,” Timothy said. “We miss him around here. What can I get you?”

They ordered and were silent until Timothy brought three different beers, a basket of tortilla chips, and a dish of salsa. “On the house,” he said. “In memory of Ethan.”

“I'm sorry I never got to know him,” Josh said. “He and Dora didn't see much of each other.”

“He tried to like her,” mused Leo. “I think she reminded him too much of Vince.” Beneath the table, Anne put a warning hand on his thigh. “You and Ethan would have liked each other,” he said to Josh. “But I've told you that before, haven't I?”

“A few dozen times. By now I'm absolutely convinced you're right.”

Leo smiled. The silence stretched out. “Well,” Leo said at last. “Where've you been traveling? You were on your way to Greece last time we saw you; you were going to tell the government to beef up its security at some museum.”

“At all its museums. There are six or eight thefts just waiting to happen there.”

“So did they do it?”

“Not yet; they're studying my report. And while they do, they'll have a major theft—my guess is Corinth, because it's a superb collection guarded by one man in his late sixties—and then somebody will finally decide it's worth spending money on better security.”

“And then they'll ask you to come back and give them more advice.”

Josh laughed. “I hope so.”

“And where've you been giving advice lately?”

“Not advice. Research. I've been in Egypt the last couple of weeks. I won't be going anywhere else for a while.”

“You've got something good there?”

“Maybe. We're working on it.”

“A tomb? A temple?”

“A tomb. We're not sure yet.”

“A new one? A big one? As big as King Tut's?”

“Bigger, if we're right. Leo, you know I don't talk about my long shots until I know how close I am. Let me have my one small streak of superstition. Tell me what's happening here with the water. Those mine tailings are on your land, aren't they?”

Anne watched the two men as they talked. She took off her jacket and sat back, sipping her beer, listening not to their words but to the sounds of their voices. Leo's voice was compact, like his frame, his words as distinct and decisive as the steps of a soldier on the march. Josh's was deeper and more measured, the voice of a man who spent much of his time explaining things. It was strong and assured; a very good voice, Anne thought. She had thought so in her office, though it had been tense then, rougher than it was now, and arrogant.

BOOK: Sleeping Beauty
7.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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