Dana Stabenow - A Grave Denied

And then he stamped on the gas pedal and got away from the devastating sympathy in her big blue eyes.

Kate knocked and the door opened. “Hi, Virgil,” she said. “Kate Shugak,” Virgil said, inclining his head with that inbred old-world courteousness displayed by male Park rats who had spent their formative years on a continent other than North America. “Won’t you come in? Telma,” he called out, “Kate Shugak is here.”

There were immediate sounds of industry in the kitchen, and she had coffee poured by the time they got there. As Kate sat down, Telma brought out a plate of cookies. She smiled at Kate.

“Thanks.” Kate munched and drank without appetite. Virgil sat down across from her. Telma took a sponge and Comet to what looked to Kate like an already spotless counter. Virgil watched her, touching her hand when she came within reach. “You should sit down, Telma,” he told her. “I do not want you to be tired out.”

“Good cookies,” Kate said, washing down the last bite.

Virgil smiled. “It is a special recipe my Telma makes, pumpkin and chocolate chip.”

“Really,” Kate said. “You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

Virgil’s smile broadened. “My woman, she does not give out the recipes, Kate Shugak. They are family recipes, meant to be handed down from mother to daughter.”

Telma paused in her scrubbing to shake out more Comet.

“I’ll have to bribe Vanessa, then,” Kate said with her own smile. “Actually, I came to talk to Vanessa. Is she here?”

“She is not back from school yet,” Virgil said. “Is something wrong with the girl?”

“No, no,” Kate said, hoping it was true and reluctant to alarm the Hagbergs over what might be nothing.

Virgil examined her with shrewd eyes.

“How has your breakup been?” Kate said brightly.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “I service the vehicles, you know, like always they are slow to start after a winter’s sitting in the garage. And I have the few projects I am doing.” He cocked an inquisitive eye. “You would have the more to do this breakup, I am thinking.”

She gave a glum nod. “That I would, Virgil.”

“You will be building a new cabin, I am thinking.”

She nodded.

“Something bigger, now that you have the boy with you.”

She nodded again. “I don’t know when, but yes, something bigger.”

“You are sleeping in the RV now? The one they got stuck on this side of the Lost Chance Creek bridge?”

She smiled a little. “That’s the one.”

“That is a very sharp turn, that turn coming off of the east end of that bridge. The gravel they put there keeps sliding down the bank. It is always muddy.”

“It is that,” Kate said.

“It is good that you have a place to sleep out of the wet, Kate Shugak, but I am thinking you will not be happy in that RV for very long. Nor the boy.”

“No,” she said, a little mournfully.

“So you will build again. You need the help, I am good with the woodworking,” he said.

She was touched. “That’s a wonderful offer, Virgil. Thank you.”

Telma finally finished with the counter, sat down next to Virgil, folded her hands on her lap, and smiled at Kate. Virgil put his hand on hers and squeezed. “My Telma,” he said fondly.

Kate helped herself to another cookie even though she didn’t want one. “I’ll need all the expert help I can get, especially with Len Dreyer dead.”

Virgil’s smile didn’t change. “A man cut down in his prime,” he said piously. “A sad thing, that.”

Not necessarily, Kate thought.

“You will catch the terrible person who shot him,” Virgil stated.

“That I will,” she said. “And more to the point, the person who burned down my cabin.” She looked at Telma. “These really are wonderful cookies, Telma. You’re an amazing baker. I hope you’re passing some of that skill along to Vanessa.”

Telma smiled. “She is a fine girl. My cousin’s child.”

“Vanessa is not interested in the cooking yet,” Virgil said.

“Oh,” Kate said. “What is she interested in?”

“The reading. She would read all day of every day if we let her. And she likes that boy of yours, that Johnny.”

“She has good taste then,” Kate said easily. “He’s a good kid. How long has Vanessa been with you now?”

Virgil frowned in thought. “She comes to us last May, so almost a year now.”

“Must be nice, having a girl,” Kate said, with feeling.

“She is a quiet little thing,” Virgil said, “no trouble at all in the house.”

Kate wondered about that. One of the first signs of abuse was a retreat into oneself. “Was she always this quiet?”

“Oh, yes,” Virgil said. “From when she first came to us, she is always quiet.”

“I like children,” Telma said unexpectedly.

Kate didn’t know what to say to that, although she was glad of the sentiment. She ought to just come right out with it, like she had with Gary Drussell, but this was an older couple with no experience of children and certainly none of child abuse, and from Virgil’s attitude, the news about Len Dreyer’s past history had not permeated to the Hagberg homestead.

“But helpful,” Virgil said, “very, very helpful, at least out of doors and away from her books. She is good with the wood chopping, after I show her how. She helps me with the weeding of the garden all summer. And she is interested in the tanning of the caribou hide I bring home in the fall.”

Kate smiled and nodded. “Have you been teaching her how to drive?”

He shrugged. “The four-wheeler she already uses to go back and forth to school after the snow melts. Before, I teach her the snow machine. It is not difficult, and the girl is quick.”

“My boy is the same,” she said. “I was thinking of teaching him how to run the tractor, too. He wants to drive the truck.”

Virgil smiled. “At fourteen, all boys want to drive the truck.”

“Nice to have help down on the farm,” Kate said.

“It is that,” Virgil said.

“Especially now that it looks like we won’t be able to hire any, so far as we know.”

“Neighbors will help,” Virgil said. “I will help.”

“I appreciate that, Virgil, but I was thinking more along the lines of fixing roofs and replacing glass and rototilling gardens. It was nice to have help you could hire. Dreyer crossed a lot of items off a lot of peoples’ lists.”

“He did,” Virgil said. “Have another cookie, Kate Shugak.”

“A good worker, everyone said so,” Kate said.

“A sad thing,” Virgil said, shaking his head. “He did a fine job in the garden last spring. You should come see.” He got to his feet.

“Huh? I mean, okay.” Kate rose. Telma smiled impartially upon them both as Virgil led Kate out of the house.

Virgil paused on the porch. “Your dog. Where is she?”

Kate nodded toward the woods. “Either chasing rabbits or asleep in the sun.”

“Ah. That is good. I have too many rabbits on my land. Come see my garden, Kate Shugak.”

She followed him around the house. Maybe he’d be easier to talk to away from Telma. He was more of this world than his wife. If Dreyer had hurt Vanessa, he might actually have noticed something.

They walked through a copse of evenly spaced trees, all neatly pruned. There were squares of raspberries, blueberries, and currants. The garden was impressive, orderly rows of rich soil thirty feet in length in a plot fifty feet wide.

Every five feet there was a line of flat rocks, providing access to the produce without harming any of it. “Wow,” she said, impressed and envious. She turned. “Where did you-”

The last thing she saw was the bottom of a spade coming straight for her head.