Stork Raving Mad by Donna Andrews Page A

have my condolences,” the chief said. “I was about to ask if you could wait in the kitchen with the rest of the good people who have had the bad luck to be here when Dr. Wright met her unfortunate end.”
    “I see,” Dr. Blanco said. He sounded somewhat mollified. “I will, as instructed, proceed to the kitchen to await my turn to be interviewed.”
    He turned and started down the hall.
    Just then two figures appeared at the far end. Randall Shiffley, accompanied by Deputy Sammy.
    “Chief,” Randall called. “We’ve got a delivery truck outside—some of the stuff Mrs. Langslow ordered for the nursery.”
    “Oh, bother,” I muttered. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall.
    “If we don’t let ’em deliver it, I’m not sure when we can get the stuff back. Is it okay if we—you! What are you doing here, you miserable rat?”
    I opened my eyes to see Randall Shiffley and Dr. Blanco looking at each other from opposite ends of the hall. Randall was glaring fiercely, and Blanco was hunching again.
    “So this is where you’ve been hiding when I try to reach you,” Randall went on. He began striding down the hall toward us.
    “I’ve been completely available by cell phone at all times,” Blanco said. “I’m not hiding. But I choose not to respond to abusive, harassing phone calls.”
    “I’ve been calling to demand the money that’s due to me,” Randall said. “Is that what you call abusive?”
    “That check was sent weeks ago—” Blanco began.
    “And never got to me, so just cancel the damned thing—” Randall shouted back. Apparently it was his turn to stand chin to nose with Blanco. I glanced at the chief. He was simply listening quietly. I decided to follow suit.
    “And the college is not paying you another dime until you deal with the heating plant!” Blanco snapped back. He was probably aiming to appear stern and fierce, but only looked as if he had indigestion.
    “Deal with it? Deal with it? I’ve been trying, you miserable cheat!”
    I winced as the two kept shouting at each other. No, Randall was shouting. Blanco was merely speaking a little louder than usual. And he was leaning slightly away from Randall, shoulders hunched defensively, looking more like a turtle than ever.
    But if Randall thought he could beat a bureaucrat solely with decibels, he was naïve. Even if he won the current battle by shouting, Blanco could retire to his office, issue a few memoranda, and win the war. I knew that Caerphilly College was a major source of revenue for the Shiffley Construction Company, as it was for all the contractors in the county. Did Randall really mean to antagonize someone who probably had the ear of the college president, and thus a lot of influence on which vendors were chosen?
    Was he calm enough even to think that way?
    And why was the chief letting this go on? Didn’t he have better things to do? Like investigate the murder?
    “Quiet!” I shouted. They both stopped talking immediately and looked at me. Randall looked calm and expectant. Blanco, the ingrate, looked as if he resented the interruption.
    “This is of no concern of yours,” he said, and pursed his lips again.
    “It damn well is if it’s about to make you come to blows in our house,” I said. “Not to mention the fact that you’re upsetting my unborn kids.”
    “I think it’s very much Meg’s business,” Randall said. “Since,like most of the good people in this town, she’s dealing with the consequences. Blanco’s been going around blaming us for the problems with the college heating plant.”
    He pronounced it Blank-o, with a flat, American “A.” Why did I suspect it was deliberate?
    “I hardly think it’s unreasonable to blame you, since your company has failed to complete the repairs for weeks now,” Blanco said.
    “We’d be happy to complete it anytime you like,” Randall said. “But either the college has to order the part, or you have to pay some of our back invoices so we can