the morning? The last time I saw him, he looked as if he’d sleep for a week.”
“Beats me.” Milo gazed at the ceiling of his small no-nonsense office. As usual, his desk was cluttered and his in-basket piled high. He was in uniform, because he was due to ride in the parade with a couple of his deputies. “Cody lived in those apartments between Pine and Cedar, across from the medical-dental clinic. How he ended up out at the edge of town at that time of day, I don’t know. Maybe Marje Blatt could tell us.”
“Have you told Curtis?” I asked.
“I don’t know where he is,” replied Milo, taking a roll of mints out of his pocket and offering me one. “We called up to the San Juans to let Cody’s parents know. They’re coming down this afternoon, if they can get on a ferry. You know what traffic is like between the islands and the mainland this time of year on a Sunday.”
I did. Despite the frequent ferry runs, car passengers were often forced to wait in line overnight on summer weekends. “Maybe Curtis is staying in a motel,” I suggested, tasting spearmint on my tongue.
“We’re checking,” said Milo. “Damn, this is a hell of a thing to happen during Loggerama. And I’ve got an election coming up.” He gave a rueful shake of his head.
“It’s not your fault,” I said in what I hoped was an encouraging tone. “Durwood shouldn’t have been driving. And the thought of Cody wandering along on a country road at dawn is pretty bizarre. In fact, it’s just plain inexplicable.” I gazed straight into Milo’s hazel eyes, waiting for him to agree with me.
But Milo’s thoughts were going off in another direction. He stood up. “I’ve got to go get my horse from the Dithers sisters’ farm. Fuzzy Baugh insisted we ride like some Wild West posse, instead of in our squad cars. Jeez!” He made a disparaging gesture with his hand. “I haven’t been on a horse in ten years.”
I wished Milo well and headed for my car. I had no desire to watch the parade, which was scheduled for oneo’clock. It was now after eleven-thirty, and I hadn’t had any breakfast. The Venison Inn and the Burger Barn both looked crowded. I stopped by the office to call Vida and asked if she’d like to drive with me down to Index, where we could get some brunch.
“Do you want to eat or have a powwow?” Vida demanded. “What’s this gruesome business with Cody Graff? Marje has been bleating in my ear for the last hour.” Vida didn’t sound too sympathetic toward her niece.
We agreed that we could eat and discuss Cody’s demise in Index as well as we could in Alpine. Five minutes later, I picked Vida up at her neat white frame cottage on Cascade Street, and we headed for the main highway. The town of Index is located some twenty-five miles down Stevens Pass on the north fork of the Skykomish River. The Bush House Country Inn is old, architecturally interesting, and serves an exceptional buffet brunch. We had to wait fifteen minutes for a table, but at last, with our plates piled high, we seated ourselves and tackled not only our food, but also Cody Graff’s death.
“You’re right,” Vida agreed, buttering a fluffy blueberry muffin. “Durwood’s an old fool, but Cody shouldn’t have been out on that road so early in the morning. Marje says she dropped him off at his apartment right after she took him home from the Icicle Creek Tavern. She took his pickup to her place. So how did he get to the Burl Creek Road?”
“You mean she’s still got Cody’s truck?”
Vida gave a jerky nod. “That’s right. It’s parked in front of her house. Or rather her parents’ house, but then you know what I think of her mother and father. Nincompoops, both of them, even if Ennis is my own brother. But Marje is sensible, all things considered. I just never thought Cody was suitable for her. Still,” she added virtuously, “I kept out of it. Now, I can’t say I’m sorry she won’t be marrying him. It’s a shame he’s
“Beats me.” Milo gazed at the ceiling of his small no-nonsense office. As usual, his desk was cluttered and his in-basket piled high. He was in uniform, because he was due to ride in the parade with a couple of his deputies. “Cody lived in those apartments between Pine and Cedar, across from the medical-dental clinic. How he ended up out at the edge of town at that time of day, I don’t know. Maybe Marje Blatt could tell us.”
“Have you told Curtis?” I asked.
“I don’t know where he is,” replied Milo, taking a roll of mints out of his pocket and offering me one. “We called up to the San Juans to let Cody’s parents know. They’re coming down this afternoon, if they can get on a ferry. You know what traffic is like between the islands and the mainland this time of year on a Sunday.”
I did. Despite the frequent ferry runs, car passengers were often forced to wait in line overnight on summer weekends. “Maybe Curtis is staying in a motel,” I suggested, tasting spearmint on my tongue.
“We’re checking,” said Milo. “Damn, this is a hell of a thing to happen during Loggerama. And I’ve got an election coming up.” He gave a rueful shake of his head.
“It’s not your fault,” I said in what I hoped was an encouraging tone. “Durwood shouldn’t have been driving. And the thought of Cody wandering along on a country road at dawn is pretty bizarre. In fact, it’s just plain inexplicable.” I gazed straight into Milo’s hazel eyes, waiting for him to agree with me.
But Milo’s thoughts were going off in another direction. He stood up. “I’ve got to go get my horse from the Dithers sisters’ farm. Fuzzy Baugh insisted we ride like some Wild West posse, instead of in our squad cars. Jeez!” He made a disparaging gesture with his hand. “I haven’t been on a horse in ten years.”
I wished Milo well and headed for my car. I had no desire to watch the parade, which was scheduled for oneo’clock. It was now after eleven-thirty, and I hadn’t had any breakfast. The Venison Inn and the Burger Barn both looked crowded. I stopped by the office to call Vida and asked if she’d like to drive with me down to Index, where we could get some brunch.
“Do you want to eat or have a powwow?” Vida demanded. “What’s this gruesome business with Cody Graff? Marje has been bleating in my ear for the last hour.” Vida didn’t sound too sympathetic toward her niece.
We agreed that we could eat and discuss Cody’s demise in Index as well as we could in Alpine. Five minutes later, I picked Vida up at her neat white frame cottage on Cascade Street, and we headed for the main highway. The town of Index is located some twenty-five miles down Stevens Pass on the north fork of the Skykomish River. The Bush House Country Inn is old, architecturally interesting, and serves an exceptional buffet brunch. We had to wait fifteen minutes for a table, but at last, with our plates piled high, we seated ourselves and tackled not only our food, but also Cody Graff’s death.
“You’re right,” Vida agreed, buttering a fluffy blueberry muffin. “Durwood’s an old fool, but Cody shouldn’t have been out on that road so early in the morning. Marje says she dropped him off at his apartment right after she took him home from the Icicle Creek Tavern. She took his pickup to her place. So how did he get to the Burl Creek Road?”
“You mean she’s still got Cody’s truck?”
Vida gave a jerky nod. “That’s right. It’s parked in front of her house. Or rather her parents’ house, but then you know what I think of her mother and father. Nincompoops, both of them, even if Ennis is my own brother. But Marje is sensible, all things considered. I just never thought Cody was suitable for her. Still,” she added virtuously, “I kept out of it. Now, I can’t say I’m sorry she won’t be marrying him. It’s a shame he’s
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