Read Online Doubled Up (Imogene Museum Mystery #2) by Jerusha Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jerusha Jones
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Twin Falls. Bert’s sister lives in Vancouver, so I dropped him off there Tuesday night.”
“ You can run the tug with only three?”
“ We didn’t have a load, so, yeah. Both Carlos and Al can man the engine room. We’re pushing a barge of earth-moving equipment up to Boardman this weekend, so the guys’ll all be back onboard early tomorrow.”
“ What’s the craziest cargo you’ve ever hauled?” Mort asked.
Pete laughed. “Probably the 1250 head of bison a Montana rancher was moving to Eastern Oregon. They had them loaded in pens on the barge, but the pens were too big which allowed the weight to shift too much. I white-knuckled the whole trip. It was my first live animal load. Now I insist on approving the holding pen size and placement before we leave the dock, regardless of whose barge it is.” He shook his head. “I can’t afford to lose a load, even if it was someone else’s mistake.”
“ You must meet all kinds of interesting people,” Sally said.
“ Oh yeah — mostly real nice folks, but there’ve been a couple nut cases, too. I still worry about the guy who bought the parts to make three wind turbines. Had a chat with him when I delivered them — he said he wanted to live off the grid, but he also spent quite a lot of time ranting against the government. Those things’ll produce way more power than you need for a household or farm — definitely overkill for one guy and his family. I talked to the U.S. Marshall’s office just to make sure he was on somebody’s radar. They said they were already keeping an eye on him.”
“ If you had one of those turbines, you could probably run a massive year-round marijuana grow without anyone noticing — if your power use is off the grid,” I said. “Wow. Think how much harm a person could do if they had their own large energy source.”
“ I still feel bad,” Pete said, “about reporting him to the authorities.”
“ Sounds like you did the right thing,” Mort said. “You had good reason to be concerned.”
We crammed together in the dining nook, bumping elbows as we passed mountains of food and heaped our plates.
“This is worth praying over,” Mort said as he squeezed Sally’s hand. “Lord, again, as always, your grace abounds. Let us never forget to seek you first, above all else. Thank you for this excellent company. Amen.”
I love Mort ’s prayers, as though he’s talking with a good friend — the kind of friend who is comfortable with silences — relaxed and honest.
I ate slowly and listened to the conversation eddy and bubble with laughter. Pete ’s shoulder pressed into mine. I glanced at his chronic three-day stubble. He’d be kind of scratchy to kiss. Maybe I wouldn’t mind.
“ Did you hear about the excitement at Junction General yesterday?” Sally asked.
My stomach plunged. The thought of Ham ruined my appetite.
Pete’s warm hand rested on my knee. My fork slipped and clattered on my plate.
“ A domestic disturbance,” he said. “A couple of out-of-towners.”
“ What a pity,” Sally replied. “I heard there was quite a mess.” She looked at Mort. “The store was closed today. Do you think—?”
“ Yes,” Mort said. “Let’s go in the morning and see if Gloria needs help.”
“ Who’s ready for dessert?” Pete asked. He rose to fetch the pies.
I exhaled. Considering how fast both truth and rumor spread through Platts Landing, I was grateful word of the semi truck break-in hadn ’t made it to Mort and Sally. I didn’t feel prepared to fend off questions about the stolen goods and what might or might not have been inside the crates — or inside a toilet tank in the museum.
Mort checked his watch. “I always have time for dessert. But I’m a little worried about the storm coming in tonight. I hope the kids get home ahead of it.”
“ Storm?” I asked.
“ They’re predicting freezing rain, or sleet — what is the proper term? And high winds.” Sally handed me a plate
“ You can run the tug with only three?”
“ We didn’t have a load, so, yeah. Both Carlos and Al can man the engine room. We’re pushing a barge of earth-moving equipment up to Boardman this weekend, so the guys’ll all be back onboard early tomorrow.”
“ What’s the craziest cargo you’ve ever hauled?” Mort asked.
Pete laughed. “Probably the 1250 head of bison a Montana rancher was moving to Eastern Oregon. They had them loaded in pens on the barge, but the pens were too big which allowed the weight to shift too much. I white-knuckled the whole trip. It was my first live animal load. Now I insist on approving the holding pen size and placement before we leave the dock, regardless of whose barge it is.” He shook his head. “I can’t afford to lose a load, even if it was someone else’s mistake.”
“ You must meet all kinds of interesting people,” Sally said.
“ Oh yeah — mostly real nice folks, but there’ve been a couple nut cases, too. I still worry about the guy who bought the parts to make three wind turbines. Had a chat with him when I delivered them — he said he wanted to live off the grid, but he also spent quite a lot of time ranting against the government. Those things’ll produce way more power than you need for a household or farm — definitely overkill for one guy and his family. I talked to the U.S. Marshall’s office just to make sure he was on somebody’s radar. They said they were already keeping an eye on him.”
“ If you had one of those turbines, you could probably run a massive year-round marijuana grow without anyone noticing — if your power use is off the grid,” I said. “Wow. Think how much harm a person could do if they had their own large energy source.”
“ I still feel bad,” Pete said, “about reporting him to the authorities.”
“ Sounds like you did the right thing,” Mort said. “You had good reason to be concerned.”
We crammed together in the dining nook, bumping elbows as we passed mountains of food and heaped our plates.
“This is worth praying over,” Mort said as he squeezed Sally’s hand. “Lord, again, as always, your grace abounds. Let us never forget to seek you first, above all else. Thank you for this excellent company. Amen.”
I love Mort ’s prayers, as though he’s talking with a good friend — the kind of friend who is comfortable with silences — relaxed and honest.
I ate slowly and listened to the conversation eddy and bubble with laughter. Pete ’s shoulder pressed into mine. I glanced at his chronic three-day stubble. He’d be kind of scratchy to kiss. Maybe I wouldn’t mind.
“ Did you hear about the excitement at Junction General yesterday?” Sally asked.
My stomach plunged. The thought of Ham ruined my appetite.
Pete’s warm hand rested on my knee. My fork slipped and clattered on my plate.
“ A domestic disturbance,” he said. “A couple of out-of-towners.”
“ What a pity,” Sally replied. “I heard there was quite a mess.” She looked at Mort. “The store was closed today. Do you think—?”
“ Yes,” Mort said. “Let’s go in the morning and see if Gloria needs help.”
“ Who’s ready for dessert?” Pete asked. He rose to fetch the pies.
I exhaled. Considering how fast both truth and rumor spread through Platts Landing, I was grateful word of the semi truck break-in hadn ’t made it to Mort and Sally. I didn’t feel prepared to fend off questions about the stolen goods and what might or might not have been inside the crates — or inside a toilet tank in the museum.
Mort checked his watch. “I always have time for dessert. But I’m a little worried about the storm coming in tonight. I hope the kids get home ahead of it.”
“ Storm?” I asked.
“ They’re predicting freezing rain, or sleet — what is the proper term? And high winds.” Sally handed me a plate
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