Kristin Ashe: Disorderly Attachments Part 19

"Better set a policy. Meantime, I'll take this one without pay. How's that sound?" Fran smiled, an engaging move I was meant to match.

Only the secret that I possessed a lead she didn't allowed me to smile genuinely for the first time in hours.

Fran must have meant to ask for a day and a half off, because she didn't saunter into the office until close to noon on Friday. No wonder Destiny thought we never worked.

She greeted me with a boisterous, "Guess what Tess and I did yesterday?"

My resentment bubbled to the surface. "Tess?"

"Went spelunking."

"In a cave," I said, my temper barely in check. I'd a.s.sumed Fran had spent her day off trying to save my relationship with Destiny.

"Where else? Tess showed me a beaut. Can't tell you where. The entrance is a closely guarded secret. Stalact.i.tes and stalagmites take a thousand years per square inch to form, and dummies run off with them in seconds."

"What are you talking about?"

Cave formations that hang from ceilings or grow from floors. Probably heard them referred to as speleothems."

"I've never heard of them as anything. Are you speaking a foreign language?"

"Close. Guess what's the difference between a spelunker and a caver?

When I glowered, she answered herself.

"Two extra light sources."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Thought so at the time, but loses a little in the light of day. Another difference: Cavers rescue spelunkers."

I didn't crack a smile. "This is how you spend your day off, when we're in the middle of two major cases?"

"Gotta have my rest and relaxation," she said lightly. "Ain't you wondering if I had fun?"

I gritted my teeth. "No."

"Had a blast for the first ten minutes. Loved the gear. Insulated coveralls, knee and elbow pads, helmet with a headlight. Didn't look forward to packing out my own urine, but skipped my morning fiber, blessedly."

I almost smiled. "What happened in the eleventh minute?"

"Started sucking spiders. Not literally. Caver term for having your head close to the ground in a confined crawlway. Lots of tight squeezes in caving, practically nothing but. Can't tell you how many times I had to suck in my gut, especially in Widowmaker."

"Widowmaker?"

"Nasty section of the cave. Had to navigate the fissure by pressing my back against one wall, feet against the other. Had the pleasure of inching sideways, while I tried not to think about the chasm below." Fran dropped to the floor and demonstrated.

"What was it, a two-foot plummet?"

"Joke all you want, but add about fifty to that estimate and thank your lucky stars Fran Green made it back alive," she said, crawling into her chair. "Terrifying experience, but nothing compared to what happened an hour later. Tripped and broke a tiny icicle. No biggie, thousands more like it within arm's reach, but Tess panicked."

"Was she afraid other spelunkers would find out?"

"That's it. Went downhill from there. She gave me a big lecture, which echoed, so heard it twice. Shrill ranting about the cave being alive and me killing part of it. Then, she pulled a prank. Wanted to teach me a lesson about the power of nature. Took my headlamp and hers and turned 'em off, made us sit in the dark for a full minute. Freaked me out."

"You couldn't handle sixty seconds?"

"Doesn't sound like much sitting here in the sunlit office, but go down there with bats and drips and water, you'll know what darkness is. All black, nothing to focus on but sounds. The void. Still creeps me out if I dwell on it."

"I take it you won't be returning."

"Not anytime soon, but did agree to help Tess dig out her own cave. On the weekends," Fran added hastily.

"Where? In her bas.e.m.e.nt?"

"Laugh all you want, but my new girlfriend could become famous."

I was still reeling from the use of the word girlfriend when Fran continued.

"Every caver's dream is to discover a new cave. Tess found an opening not marked on the maps, near Fulford Cave, outside Vail. She's hoping it's an entrance that filled with dirt. She's spent two years digging and has reached a small chamber. She can't stand in it but can sit. I told her I'd help burrow, long as I stay within reach of daylight."

I looked at Fran with increased skepticism, well aware of her penchant for invention. "Are you making this up?"

"Not a word. Ask her yourself," Fran said, gesturing to the door.

"Tess is coming here?" I said anxiously.

"Any minute. Wanted to bring me lunch. Told her to pick up enough grub for you, too. Arby's okay?"

I didn't have a chance to reply before Fran's cell phone rang.

Fran held a brief conversation, during which she said very little, but when she clamped the phone shut, she broke into a wide grin. Everything's confirmed with Ca.s.s for Sat.u.r.day night. Bring your sleeping bag."

We're spending the night at the Fielder mansion?" I said, my voice backing.

"You betcha."

"The whole night?"

"If we dare," she said with an evil cackle.

"That might not be such a good idea. I have to bring Flax, Nell's grandson. When I told Nell we were hiring a paranormal investigator, she wanted a representative from the family present."

"The more the merrier."

"Actually, I think she wants us to entertain him. According to her, all he does is go online and play Gameboy."

"No problem! I'll pack an extra set of gear. Kid'll ghost hunt in comfort. State-of-the-art hot/cold thermos, air mattress, down pillows, collapsible chair and footstool. Nothing like roughin' it!"

"Forget about Flax. I could use those luxuries."

"Fair enough. Give the kid your Army Surplus hand-me-downs. You and me'll luxuriate in the latest Eddie Bauer has to offer. I'll bake a batch of triple-chocolate brownies, for good measure. Gonna need the sugar boost if we gotta keep our eyelids propped open all night."

"Yummy. What time?"

"Five sharp. Ca.s.s wants plenty of time to set up the equipment before we lose daylight."

"What if we don't-"

Fran interrupted with a hearty, "To be continued, kiddo. There's my gal."

Undeniably, there she was, a gangly woman with stilts for legs, walking through the door.

In her arms, she carried two overflowing bags, and against her flat chest, she balanced three drinks, using her chin for support.

"The dumb a.s.ses didn't have any drink holders. Tell me how you run out of those at lunch."

Fran jumped to help Tess, but she brushed off her a.s.sistance and headed to the nearest counter. On it, she set the items, meticulously loosening each from the pyramid.

To her credit, she didn't spill a drop of soda on her white tank top or lose a fry in the ma.s.sive pockets of her camouflage cargo shorts. Once unenc.u.mbered, she grabbed Fran, strangled her in an embrace, planted one on her lips and spun her around, tangling her T-shirt, "Wither Without You."

Only after completing the twirl did Tess acknowledge me. She dropped Fran and extended a stiff arm. "Tess Thompson," she said, using her free hand to brush back a clump of wayward hair.

Light brown strands, streaked blond from the sun, drooped from her scalp like strands of yarn. Judging from the web on her head, she must not have owned a comb, and she could have used one on quite a few parts of her body. Shrouds of light-colored hair covered her arms, legs, pits and upper lip, even her toes, which were on display through sandals whose ties reached to her knees and whose use she'd extended with duct tape.

My eyes widened at the sight of ma.s.sive veins on her sinewy forearms and triceps, but I valiantly offered my hand, which she crushed against the beaded leather bracelet on her wrist.

Introductions aside, she took over the role of hostess, unpacking food and distributing straws, napkins and condiments, all in a flurry of motion.

"Is ham and cheese okay with you? Fran said you eat it all the time, but I'll trade out my roast beef, if you'd rather."

"No, thanks. I like ham."

"All the meat at Arby's is too processed for my taste, but that's because I grew up on game."

"Oh?" I said politely.

"I like wild duck especially. The meat tastes better when the animal has to run for its life, don't you think, Fran?"

Couldn't say. Not enough experience to comment."

"We'll fix that," Tess said, reaching across Fran's desk to teasingly cuff the side of her head. "I love fresh lobster, too. Especially when I can choose one from the tank."

You don't mind that while you're eating your salad, the lobster is boiling to death?" I said mildly.

Not really," she answered childishly. "Do you, Fran?"

Myself, I prefer a little distance between the murder and the meal."

I laughed, but Tess didn't.

Fran's girlfriend peered at me. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Likewise."

"Destiny, too. I'm in love with her."

"So am I," I said pointedly.

"I mean her politics. I admire everything she does. I donate to the LCC every time they send a fund-raising letter."

"Great."

"You have to support good causes. I also give to HRC, PFLAG, Sierra Club and PETA."

"PETA?" I said, surprised Tess would support an organization dedicated to the ethical treatment of animals, when she made her living stuffing them.

"It balances out my work."

"Wouldn't it be easier to choose another occupation?" I said reasonably.

"Not in a million years. I love what I do. I become the spirit of the work. Has Fran shown you the piece I gave her?"

"Not yet."

Tess looked around the office. "Frannie, you said you'd bring it in."

"Sure enough," Fran said, shooting me a nervous glance. "Must have forgotten."

"The piece is of two squirrels mating."

I tried unsuccessfully to halt a grimace.

"The detail's magnificent," Fran said. "Award-winning."

"Did Fran tell you we're going to start our own nonprofit?"

I cast a glance at Fran, but she studiously avoided eye contact. "She hasn't mentioned that."

"I told you I'd ponder it. Haven't committed yet."

"You will. We're going to buy land south of Castle Rock, where we can rescue and rehabilitate birds."