Diane Davidson - The Grilling Season

He pulled himself up. “I am Dr. Shelton.” Always. Is your first nome Doctor? I smiled. “Ralph, it’s Goldy Korman. Now Goldy Schulz. Don’t you remember me from all those years ago? I’m a caterer now.”

He squinted and cleared his throat. “Goldy?”

“We… saw each other in front of Suz Craig’s house, when the police were there. This morning. Don’t you recall? Over on Jacobean. I didn’t recognize you, either. And then I remembered. And after all we’d been through together way back when…”

But I couldn’t come up with a last-minute lie to push myself into a conversation with this man. Instead, I stared mutely at the right side of his face, where there was a square, expertly cut gauze bandage. I saw again what I’d seen this morning. Just at the upper end of the bandage, under the clear tape, were the beginnings, just the very beginnings, of four vertical gash marks. The kind of scratches that could be made by a woman’s nails, when she was fighting you off.

11

Forgive me, it’s been such a trying day.” Ralph’s unctuous tone made me even more uneasy. “I never would have known… and this morning when you were ordering people around, you seemed so distraught… .” He tilted his bald head and closed his amber eyes, as if struggling to recall the events. Then he shook his head. “Terrible tragedy. The police even questioned me, since I was out on my walk when…” He paused. “But why are you here now? I mean, if you want to catch up on old times, then give me a call and we can set up a lunch or something… . I’ll bring some pictures of Jill, she’s playing soccer down in New Mexico… .” His voice trailed off. A country-club doctor choosing to have lunch with a caterer who was married to a cop? Not likely, regardless of our history. But Ralph pressed on, with an eagerness that seemed almost sad. “Actually, I’ve missed all of my old friends lately, things have been going so badly… and now this has happened. Should we set up a lunch right now?” His hand went nervously to the top button of his shin. “That would be a terrific idea.”

“Oh! Well, actually, I can’t make any appointments now, I’m looking for the McCrackens’ house.” It was lame, but it had to do. “Do you know Clark and Patricia McCracken? Remember, Patricia used to be married to Skip all those years ago… .” He squinted skeptically and I rushed on. “I’m catering a Stanley Cup celebration there tonight, at the McCrackens’, and I just can’t remember exactly where they live, and then I remembered you were such a big hockey fan…”

But he had already held up a hand for me to wait. I fell silent as his tall form disappeared down a hallway whose walls were bathed in a vertigo-inducing print of floating cabbage roses. Beyond, I glimpsed a country kitchen with frilly curtains and gleaming copper. I wondered if Ralph had found another job after being fired by ACHMO. If he had not, I doubted he’d be able to keep up life in his old income bracket.

“Twenty-two Markham,” he said pleasantly as he returned, waving an engraved invitation. Then he regarded me. .“I’m going over there in just a little bit myself. We’ve remained friends, in spite of everything. It’s amazing that she… Well. The guests are all going to skate, get another dose of Cup fever. Sound good? But how can you cater at a house you haven’t visited?”

I was ready for this one. “Do it all the time. Actually, I thought I knew where the McCrackens’ place was. But after this morning my life seems to have turned upside down.” I stared helplessly into his yellow eyes, so much like those of a cat. “It’s just been a nightmare.”

He grinned sympathetically. “Yes, well, I’ll just see you over at the McCrackens’ place – “

I leaned against the doorframe. “Ralph, can you just show me how to get to Markham? Please? I’m feeling extremely disoriented.”

With obvious reluctance, he walked outside and gestured at Chaucer, where, as I well knew, I needed to take two rights and then a left to get to the McCrackens’ place. He turned and again squinted. My forlorn expression must have finally ignited a spark of curiosity, for before going into his house, he hesitated.

“How did you happen to come upon… Suz Craig… er, in the ditch?” he asked abruptly. “I mean, did you drive over it or something?”

“I was on my way to the Rodines’ place to pick up my son and take him to his father. I just saw her there… in front of her house. Uh… how about you?”

“Oh, I was out for my walk.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for ordering you around this morning. Did you say the police questioned you? I seem to remember them wanting to talk to everybody, you know?”

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t believe what they wanted to know from me.” He rubbed his bandaged cheek. I felt my own face heat up. “How had I scratched myself, they asked. So I told them what I’m telling you.” I didn’t like the tone of his voice. Did it mask hostility, or was I imagining things? “Our cat doesn’t like to go to the veterinarian’s. She scratched me when I tried to put her into the cage.”

I nodded sympathetically and thought that Sergeant Beiner was probably on the phone with the veterinarian right now, finding out if in fact Ralph Shelton had just brought a female cat in for a visit. I thanked him for helping me, then backed away. Time to grill fish for the McCrackens.

“So,” Ralph said slowly, “the police suspect my oId friend, John Richard Korman?” His fingers brushed the top of his shirt, then went to his bandage again. Suddenly, he didn’t seem to want me to leave.

I shrugged as convincingly as possible. “Who knows? I try to keep up with that guy as little as I possible.” I turned toward my van. “Thanks for your help, Ralph.”

“Wait,” he called. “I’m sorry. Of course you have as little to do with him as possible. I … I remember how he treated you.” I turned back and waited for him to speak. Finally he said, “It’s just that I’ve had such a horrible morning.” I pressed my lips together. “I knew her, you know,” he said bluntly. Was his voice wistful? Hard to tell. “I knew Suz Craig.”

“Really?” I asked. “Oh, right, the HMO. And you’re a doc. I hardly know anyone in the medical business anymore. Do you practice in Denver?”

“I did. Our group was affiliated with ACHMO. Still is, actually, I’m just not a part of it.” He heaved a sigh. “I’ll see you at the party later. Sure you know where you’re going?” Before I could answer, however, he said, “Good-bye.” Then he closed the door.

Well, doggone. Ralph was in some kind of pain, no question, and it wasn’t just from cat scratches. I gave the brass knocker one last glance and walked back to my vehicle – in case he was watching through a window – and hightailed it over to the McCrackens’ place. Within five minutes I’d eased up to the curb in front of a tall wooden house that had been stained a bilious purple, with shutters painted a dull maroon. They should have photographed this place for a National Hockey League advertisement. Avalanche flags hung from the lampposts along the walk. Oversize Avalanche banners were draped from each upstairs window. The place looked like a sporting-goods store.

When I drove into the McCrackens’ driveway, though, I was prevented from pulling up to the back entrance. A rope had been put up around a large, rectangular paved area that had been marked with bright white lines to resemble a hockey rink. I couldn’t imagine what my tires would do to all those brilliant chalky lines if I drove over them. I dreaded contemplating how I was going to unload, much less serve.

Clark McCracken, a long-legged fellow with a thin, sweating red face and lots of sweat-streaked brown hair, flapped his arms maniacally as he came loping down the drive toward me. He was wearing a maroon Avalanche jersey, shiny maroon shorts, and stiff, bulky kneepads that made his gait resemble the canter of a crippled race-horse. No question – this man was ready for the end-of-the-driveway game. There was also no question that he wasn’t ready for my van to ruin all his chalk marks. I sighed. Unloading a hundred pounds of supplies anywhere near the shortest route to the kitchen was going to be impossible. I rolled down the window and resolved to stay pleasant.