Alpine. “Dear me—I think they’re all in shock by now at the bank. I feel sorry for Andy Cederberg and Rick Erlandson. All that old gossip’s bound to resurface. Poor Andy has never felt like a real bank president since he took over from Marv. More like warming the chair for the next Petersen who goes into the business. As for Rick, I hope Ginny isn’t carrying on like a sad sack at home.”
“What next Petersen?” I asked, pausing for an SUV to go by at the corner of Fourth and Pine.
“Larry’s sons,” Vida replied, moving along briskly. “I assume at least one of them will return to Alpine eventually. Neither of the boys is as dim as their sister, Denise. I suppose Elmer and Thelma know what they’re up to these days. If Milo doesn’t inquire about them, I will.”
We passed the medical and dental clinic, then crossed Third. It was still cold and windy, but so far there was no sign of rain or snow. “I don’t remember the names of the Petersen boys,” I said. “Were they at Linda’s funeral?”
“Yes, but I never had a chance to speak to them,” Vida replied. “Later they both came back to Alpine on winter break. Then they helped their mother move. That was in the spring, as I recall.” We’d reached the hospital entrance. Vida pushed openthe swinging doors. “Is Milo here?” she asked as we entered the lobby with its carved-wood panels of local flora and fauna.
“Probably at the ER entrance,” I said, trying to smile at the pale-faced young woman behind the desk.
“Oh!” Vida exclaimed, revealing her toothy grin. “Jennifer, isn’t it? Aren’t you a Bjornson?”
The young woman smiled back. “Yes, I am, Mrs. Runkel.”
Vida needed no introduction. “I understand your father still works part-time as a repairman for Sheriff Dodge. My, my, you’ve grown up since I last saw you. Jenny, I should’ve said. Have you been away?”
Jennifer—or Jenny, or both—nodded. “I spent two years at Edmonds Community College.”
Vida’s smile disappeared. “Oh. Isn’t your mother still working at the college library here?”
“Yes,” Jenny said, a trace of color rising in her cheeks, “but I thought it might be fun to go somewhere else to college.”
“I see.” Vida paused. “But you came back to Alpine. How nice.” She didn’t miss a beat. “We heard that Old Nick … I mean Mr. Laurentis, the artist, has been shot. Is that true?”
Jenny nodded again. “It must’ve been an accident. A hunter, probably. He hasn’t been officially admitted, but I understand the ambulance pulled in about five minutes ago.”
“You know Ms. Lord?” Vida said, waving a hand in my direction.
Jenny gave me a fleeting glance. “Yes, I remember from the time when Mr. Rasmussen was murdered at the college and my folks were both working there then.”
As was often the case, I found it necessary to assert myself as something other than Vida’s stooge. “Sheriff Dodge called and asked if I’d meet him at the hospital. Is he in the ER with Mr. Laurentis?”
Jenny’s blue eyes widened. “I doubt it. Nonmedical personnelaren’t usually allowed in that area. Maybe he’s in the waiting room.”
“The sheriff has a habit of doing what he needs to do,” I said. “Come on, Vida, let’s find Milo.”
We went down the corridor to the ER. “You certainly made a point of being on intimate terms with Milo,” Vida murmured. “Is that wise?”
The comment irked me. “I’ve known Milo for fifteen years. I also know you and Ginny and Kip intimately.”
“It’s not the same,” Vida said.
“Why? Because I left out Ed?”
We turned the corner, following the arrows to the ER. “You know perfectly well what I mean,” Vida said.
I had no chance to argue. A white-coated orderly I didn’t recognize opened one of the double doors for Vida and me to pass into the waiting room. There were no patients in sight nor was there any sign of the sheriff, but I knew the receptionist, Bree Kendall.
“What next Petersen?” I asked, pausing for an SUV to go by at the corner of Fourth and Pine.
“Larry’s sons,” Vida replied, moving along briskly. “I assume at least one of them will return to Alpine eventually. Neither of the boys is as dim as their sister, Denise. I suppose Elmer and Thelma know what they’re up to these days. If Milo doesn’t inquire about them, I will.”
We passed the medical and dental clinic, then crossed Third. It was still cold and windy, but so far there was no sign of rain or snow. “I don’t remember the names of the Petersen boys,” I said. “Were they at Linda’s funeral?”
“Yes, but I never had a chance to speak to them,” Vida replied. “Later they both came back to Alpine on winter break. Then they helped their mother move. That was in the spring, as I recall.” We’d reached the hospital entrance. Vida pushed openthe swinging doors. “Is Milo here?” she asked as we entered the lobby with its carved-wood panels of local flora and fauna.
“Probably at the ER entrance,” I said, trying to smile at the pale-faced young woman behind the desk.
“Oh!” Vida exclaimed, revealing her toothy grin. “Jennifer, isn’t it? Aren’t you a Bjornson?”
The young woman smiled back. “Yes, I am, Mrs. Runkel.”
Vida needed no introduction. “I understand your father still works part-time as a repairman for Sheriff Dodge. My, my, you’ve grown up since I last saw you. Jenny, I should’ve said. Have you been away?”
Jennifer—or Jenny, or both—nodded. “I spent two years at Edmonds Community College.”
Vida’s smile disappeared. “Oh. Isn’t your mother still working at the college library here?”
“Yes,” Jenny said, a trace of color rising in her cheeks, “but I thought it might be fun to go somewhere else to college.”
“I see.” Vida paused. “But you came back to Alpine. How nice.” She didn’t miss a beat. “We heard that Old Nick … I mean Mr. Laurentis, the artist, has been shot. Is that true?”
Jenny nodded again. “It must’ve been an accident. A hunter, probably. He hasn’t been officially admitted, but I understand the ambulance pulled in about five minutes ago.”
“You know Ms. Lord?” Vida said, waving a hand in my direction.
Jenny gave me a fleeting glance. “Yes, I remember from the time when Mr. Rasmussen was murdered at the college and my folks were both working there then.”
As was often the case, I found it necessary to assert myself as something other than Vida’s stooge. “Sheriff Dodge called and asked if I’d meet him at the hospital. Is he in the ER with Mr. Laurentis?”
Jenny’s blue eyes widened. “I doubt it. Nonmedical personnelaren’t usually allowed in that area. Maybe he’s in the waiting room.”
“The sheriff has a habit of doing what he needs to do,” I said. “Come on, Vida, let’s find Milo.”
We went down the corridor to the ER. “You certainly made a point of being on intimate terms with Milo,” Vida murmured. “Is that wise?”
The comment irked me. “I’ve known Milo for fifteen years. I also know you and Ginny and Kip intimately.”
“It’s not the same,” Vida said.
“Why? Because I left out Ed?”
We turned the corner, following the arrows to the ER. “You know perfectly well what I mean,” Vida said.
I had no chance to argue. A white-coated orderly I didn’t recognize opened one of the double doors for Vida and me to pass into the waiting room. There were no patients in sight nor was there any sign of the sheriff, but I knew the receptionist, Bree Kendall.
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