WEDNESDAY IV - November 7

"Where the hell's the paper this morning, Leah?" Gary asked as she came in the room.
"We always hold it up a day so we can get the election results in," Leah reminded him. "They're still tabulating a few precincts yet."
"Oh yeah," Lee said. "Have you got anything yet?"
"Both the county commissioners who were up for re-election are going back," Leah said. "I assume you already know who won the state stuff–"
"Yeah, it's here in the Casper paper," Gary said.
"That public works guy up in Loose Cannon got elected mayor, so there's sure to be a scandal brewing when he realizes he has to quit his job if he wants to serve," Leah continued.
"What about here?" Gary demanded.
"We still don't know yet," Leah said. "God help me, but the mayor's race is really, really close."
"Between who and whom?"
"Actually, three whos," Leah said. "Sherwood, Colson AND Buford. That's what's taking so long; dealing with the write-ins."
"God help us all," Gary said. "Are there really enough people in this town dumb enough to take those ads seriously?"
"Apparently," Leah said worriedly. "Jesus, I don't want to serve the last two years of my term with a drunken lunatic in charge."
"You wouldn't be the first one to do that, schnookie," Rex said. "We've all been there, haven't we?"
"Well, yeah," Gary acknowledged, "But Gordie and all of them bathed, at least."
"You know, speaking of Buford and all" Walt said. "Will Garrett still says it wasn't him placing those ads. He swears up and down it's not him. So is it?"
"It's complicated," Leah said evasively.
"No it isn't," Gary said. "Either he was or he wasn't buying these from you. Was he?"
"Well, no," Leah said.
"Then who was?" Gary demanded.
Leah, Tad and Rex exchanged looks. Rex shrugged.
"Kim Huffnagle," Leah said.
"Oh, that cigar-chomping old crank used to hang out at the gas station in the morning?" Walt asked. "Kind of funny, mousy hair? Scraggly beard? Weird eyebrows? Really dark eyes? That guy?"
Leah and Rex blinked hard at this. "That's the one. Do you know him well?" she asked.
"Oh... not real well... He bored me to tears. Actually put me to sleep once with that story about the hole he dug. He had to describe every shovelful of dirt, and then phhht! I was out like a light," Walt shook his head. "Missed two calls on my cell phone and I still don't know who it was."
"Two calls, huh?" Rex said.
"Yup."
"When was this?" Leah asked.
"Umm... You know, I'm not sure. A while ago," Walt said.
"What did he do for a living, anyway?" Leah asked, trying to sound casual.
"He, uh... He... I'm sure he told me once. Too bad I can't remember," Walt said.
"Rex," Leah whispered to her friend, "Did something about what he said sound familiar to you by any chance?"
"Ohhhh yeah," Rex said under his breath.
"My dad said almost exactly the same thing at Sunday dinner when I asked if he remembered Kim," Leah said. "I swear it was word for word the same thing. 'Out like a light' and everything."
"Oh, you missed yesterday, Leah," Rex said. "Caleb said the exact same thing yesterday. Twice. Didn't even realize he was repeating himself from what I could tell."
"Two of my clerks are saying the same thing," Tad said quietly to the pair of them. "Even to the 'missed two calls' bit."
"If this gets any weirder... I don't know what I'm going to do," Leah said.
"If what gets any weirder?" Walt said from across the tables.
"Nothing," Leah said to the group. "We're just talking about how odd it is that Danny has started making sense."
"Actually, his little editorial this week was pretty good," Walt said. "But I'd figured you'd just written it for him."
"So he really did write that thing about how schools should get stuff from local businesses for their fundraisiers?" Paul asked. "I thought you'd ghosted it, too. You or Ellen."
"Ellen the shop-at-hom-nazi?" Rex said. "Yeah, there are shades of Ellen in there."
"Well, Danny has always had a little crush on my sister, I think," Leah said. "At any rate, his girlfriend HATES her. But yeah, he wrote it. Didn't even have any typos," she marveled.
"Well, that does it. Something funny is going on. No such thing as no typos in the Reader," Paul said.
"I didn't say none in the paper. There's always one or two of those; how can there not be when two people are trying to fill 24 pages every week? But there wasn't anything wong in his column, and it was the last thing he filed. Usually the last thing you file is a sloppy, slapdash mess!" Leah said.
"I'd say the whole paper is a slapdash mess if you can't even tell us who placed the Buford for Mayor ad this week," Gary said suddenly.
"Oooh!" Rex said, looking over at Gary. "Hostile!"
"Well, dammit, what's she trying to hide, anyway?" Gary demanded.
"I'm not hiding anything, I told you already," Leah said. "It was Kim Huffnagle."
"Oh, that cigar-chomping old crank used to hang out at the gas station in the morning?" Gary asked. "Kind of funny, mousy hair? Scraggly beard? Weird eyebrows? Really dark eyes? That guy?"
Leah coughed up a mouthful of coffee and just barely kept herself from spraying it onto the table. "What did you say?" she said as though choking.
"I just asked if you were talking about that cigar-chomping old crank that used to hang out at the gas station in the morning?" Gary said.
Rex took Leah's hand in a gesture of support as she asked the follow-up question. "Yeah. Did you know him well?"
"Oh... not real well. I mostly avoided him... He bored me to tears. Actually put me to sleep once with that story about the hole he dug. He had to describe every shovelful of dirt, and then phhht! I was out like a light," Gary shook his head. "Missed two phone calls from people looking for my son."
Leah got up suddenly, threw her hands in the air, and stalked off to the bathroom muttering to herself.
"What's wrong with HER?" Deirdre asked as Leah passed her.
"Bad fit of deja vu, I think," Rex said, pulling out a chair for her. "Come on and sit down, baby. You're just in time to pay for coffee."
"You havent' run the numbers yet?" Deirdre said. "Damn! Thought I'd beat it today."
"That was an old gambit before you and your daddy had ever even heard of Big Fittings," Gary said, smirking and handing her a clean cup.
"Yeah, yeah. So seriously, what's up with Leah?"
"She's got her undies in a bundle because we want to know who placed that nasty ad for Buford for mayor this week," Gary said.
"She's already told us twice, though," Paul pointed out. "I'd be pissed off, too."
"It wasn't Will Garrett this time?" Deirdre asked.
"No... It was... Leah or I will tell you after coffee," Rex said, waving an impatient hand in the air. "It's getting a little annoying."
"And a lot weird," Paul said.
"Oh, so you've noticed, have you?" Rex looked surprised.
"Sure I have. There's two different versions of the Reader floating around from a couple of weeks ago. You don't think I'd notice that?" Paul said hotly.
"What the Sam Hill you talking about, Black?" Gary asked grumpily.
"Oh, just me being nit-picky again, I suppose. I'll have to ask Leah about it before I can tell you," Paul said.
"Good God, you people usually don't sound this weird until at least February," Deirdre said. "We'd better get you out on your snowmobiles quick before you really lose it."
"Too late," Rex said with a sad little smile.
"Ummm...." Paul said.
Leah returned to her seat in silence.
"It's going to be okay," Rex murmured to her. "We'll figure all of this out yet."
"Yeah, but what's it going to take?" she whispered.
"We'll figure it out. Just don't... Just don't mention his name again this morning, hmm? I'm getting a little tired of hearing that story or whatever it is."
"God, that's freaking me out," Leah said through teeth clenched in a forced smile.
"You and me both, schnookie."
"And me," Tad added.
"All right," Gary said, looking up at the clock. "I've got a doctor's appointment in ten minutes. Listen up, One to 1000..."

TUESDAY IV - November 6

"So, have you all voted yet?" Gary asked as he sat down among his friends.
"Oh, I'll probably head up after lunch," Kevin said. "I always round up the girls and Marion and we vote together. Long tradition."
"Aww, that's sweet," Gary said a trifle mockingly.
"One thing that will be nice; at least no more political ads on the TV and stuff," Lee said.
"I'll miss Will Garrett's crap in the paper, though," Gary said. "That's the best thing in it, these days."
"I think it's pretty stupid, myself," Deirdre said. "But it's a free country."
"Well, I already voted," Gary said, "So I'm ready for all of it to stop."
"Me, too. Did that dingbat Zabrowskie stop you while you were leaving to ask you who you voted for?" Deirdre asked.
"Yes, and I told him if he had to ask, he really didn't know me," Gary replied.
"Hah! I should have said that," Deirdre said.
"You're not going to believe this," Lee said, passing the carafe around to Gary, "But Danny Zabrowskie actually stayed awake through our whole meeting last night."
"You sure he didn't paint eyeballs on his eyelids or something?" Gary asked suspiciously.
"Well, he didn't snore anyway," Lee said. "And he took notes, which he never does. Leah must have put the fear of god into him."
"Or maybe he's just decided to start doing his job," Rex said.
"Same thing," Gary said.
"I don't know how she puts up with that weirdo," Kevin said, shaking his head. "Except she's pretty weird herself."
"We should just be glad they're not dating or anything," Gary said. "They'd make the freakin' weirdest kids ever."
"I hear you're about to be a grandpa again," Kevin said to Gary. "Third kid?"
"Fourth, counting my stepson's kid," Gary nodded.
"Oh yeah. When is Cathy due?"
"June, I think. Yeah, June."
"That's when I'm getting married, we decided," Roger said.
"Still can't believe you're doing that again," Gary said.
"What can I say? I lost my mind," Roger smiled. "Actually, our dogs decided," he said, scratching Maker's Mark under the chin. "Hey," he said to Mark. "Deirdre's got some toast over there. Got get it! Go get it!"
"Dammit, Roger! I was actually going to get to finish a piece," Deirdre said.
"It's okay, it's okay," Suzie said, "We had some heels today, so Mark gets his own toast," and she set down a plate next to Roger.
"God, what a spoiled hound," Roger said, breaking off a piece for the dog. Mark, however, had made his way around the table to put his head in Deirdre's lap.
"Hey! This is my toast! Mine! Go bug your dad!" she said, making a throwing motion. Mark, fooled again, dove under the tables, his wagging tail briefly visible between the gaps like a periscope before he emerged in front of Roger.
"I can't believe that worked," Gary said. "Mine would still be there begging. And here I thought Mark was the smart one."
"Oh no, Lily's the smart one, Mark is the pretty one," Roger said.
"Holy– I'm going to tell her you said that next time I see her. Hey, how come we never see her?" Deirdre demanded.
"Because I want to keep her around," Roger stuck his tongue out at his sister-in-law.
"Good point. Don't let her meet my husband," Deirdre said, munching her toast.
Her friends smiled their agreement, and for a while everyone's attention went to the silent TV screen. The stock market was down again, so only Rex was smiling. "Almost low enough for me to buy in some more," he muttered gleefully.
"So, I went in to see Leah yesterday afternoon about an ad, and, is it just me or is she getting a little obsessive about that dead guy?" Roger asked.
"She mentions him now and then, yeah," Rex nodded.
"What dead guy?" Caleb asked.
"What was his name... Jeeze, it's only been a few weeks, you'd think I could remember..." Gary said.
"Kim Huffnagle," Rex said.
"Oh, that cigar-chomping old crank used to hang out at the gas station in the morning?" Caleb asked. "Kind of funny, mousy hair? Scraggly beard? Weird eyebrows? Really dark eyes? That guy?"
"Yeah, you mentioned he hung out there sometimes," Rex said, eyes narrowing. "Did you know him very well?"
"Oh... not a lot... He bored me to tears. Actually put me to sleep once with that story about the hole he dug. He had to describe every shovelful of dirt, and then phhht! I was out like a light," Caleb shook his head. "Missed two service calls."
"Interesting," Rex said.
"Dewey and Lane used to make fun of the way he talked, I remember. They spent a lot more time around him than I did," Caleb continued.
"How did he talk?" Rex asked.
"Oh, real slowly, and he repeated himself a lot. And always really quiet; you really had to listen to hear him. And then you'd tune in and it would be that same... damn... story.... Always with the... Huh?"
"What?" Gary asked.
"I didn't quite catch what you said, is all," Caleb said.
"None of us said anything. You were telling us about... that guy..." Gary said.
"Oh yeah..." Caleb said. "Well... Yeah."
"Anyone else remember him really?" Rex asked.
"Who?" Kevin said.
Rex sighed. "She's right. This does get tedious," he murmured. "Kim Huffnagle."
"Oh, that cigar-chomping old crank used to hang out at the gas station in the morning?" Caleb asked. "Kind of funny–"
"You said that already," Rex said, cutting him off. "I'm wondering if anyone ELSE knew him."
"I think he was here for happy hour once," Kevin said. "But I wouldn't swear to it. To tell the truth, I always get him and Buford mixed up."
"That's interesting," Rex said.
"Dammit, Wainwright, you're starting to sound like some kind of shrink. 'That's interesting,'" Gary said.
"Well, it is," Rex said. "Do you remember where he worked, Kevin?"
"I'm not sure he did work," Kevin said. "Unless... No, Buford's the garbage man, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then no, I don't think he did work," Kevin finished.
"Where'd he live?" Rex asked again.
"Don't know that, either."
"You know, you do sound awful funny about this stuff, Rex," Roger opined. "You and Leah both. What is it about this guy that's bugging you so much? He was just some drifter, wasn't he? Who died?"
"Maybe," Rex said. "I don't know, there are just some things that don't fit. Things I can't make up my mind about."
"Well, maybe stop fussing about that and start thinking about what I'm going to do about my washing machine," Gary said. "Or are you in the P.I. business now instead?"
"I told your wife yesterday there isn't much I can do," Rex said patiently. "The thing is, what, we figure 30 years old at least? Certainly you got your money's worth out of it. Anyway, I can't even get parts of it any more. You're just going to have to suck it up and buy a new one."
"Or there's one for sale in the classifieds," Lee said.
"No, my wife called on that Friday. They'd already sold it," Caleb cut in.
"Rex, you send out your gremlins again? Me, Caleb... didn't Kevin just get a new machine from you?" Gary said.
"Yeah, I did. Marion loves it, but she can't reach to the bottom. Large capacity. Damn, it's funny to watch her try," Kevin said.
"How'd you sell her a large capacity washer?" Gary said.
Rex opened his mouth to speak, but Kevin rushed to his defense. "Hey, Leah and Ellen both come up every weekend to do their laundry. We need it."
"When are you going to get them married off and on their own making grandbabies like they should be?" Gary asked.
"They're both too independent, I think," Kevin said ruefully. "Well, except for their laundry."
"Ah, one of these days someone'll crack 'em," Rex said. "My girls are just as bad. I told you about my funny little phone call the other day, didn't I?"
"Which one?" Kevin asked.
"I almost hung up on the poor kid. It was Saturday evening and I was finishing my dinner, and the phone rang and this kid says 'Is this Mr. Wainwright?' And I said 'Sure,' and he said 'This is Jamie Seaver, Mr. Wainwright.' And I almost hung up on him, I thought he was a telemarketer – I never knew Jamie's last name or anything – and then he says 'I'm calling to get your permission to ask Jessica to marry me.' And I finlly realized who he was and I said 'Sure, take her off my hands; she's getting a little long in the tooth.'
"And," Rex continued, looking at Kevin. "Jessica is four years older than Ellen. So there's always hope. Though I have to admit, just because she's getting married doesn't mean she's going to have kids. They'd spoil her figure for dancing."
"She's still dancing?"
"Houston Ballet Theater," Rex said proudly. "Not bad for a little girl from Big Fittings learned her early dancing upstairs above the saddle shop."
Gary started to laugh. "I remember when she and my daughter were in that recital when they were in elementary school," he said. "Jessica had her arm in a cast and Maggie had a big ol' black eye from when they'd gotten into a fight on the monkey bars."
"I still have a picture of that," Rex agreed. "The two of them standing there in their tutus and cowboy boots. Oh, and wasn't Maggie missing her front teeth then?"
"Yeah. The two of them looked more like hockey players than ballerinas."
"I remember that!" Caleb said. "I think it was my baby brother who knocked Maggie off the bars!"
"I think you're right," Gary said. "He always was a little shit. Where is he now?"
"State pen," Deirdre said.
"How'd you know that?" Caleb asked.
"I put him there," Kevin said.
"Oh."
"Wasn't he the one who kept claiming he'd seen Big Foot up in the Battle Mountains when he was in high school?" Deirdre said. "I remember hearing about this."
Caleb sank down in his chair.
"No, that was Caleb," Kevin said. "But he admitted later that he was stoned out of his gourd. Who was it you saw, actually?"
"My Uncle Jack," Caleb muttered.
"Oh Jesus," Rex said. "If I were liquored up and up in the mountains in the middle of the night, I'd probably mistake your Uncle Jack for Bigfoot, too."
"But it wasn't the middle of the night," Kevin teased.
"It was the '70s," Caleb said. "I was young and stupid."
"Yes you were," Kevin said. "Still, you should have known something was up when 'Big Foot' shot a whole in your keg."
"Hey, who says Big Foot doesn't have a gun?" Caleb said.
"Everybody," Gary said.
"Whatever. It was a long time ago," Caleb said.
"Well, Kanebrain, some of us have a living to make," Rex said.
"Point taken. Listen up..."

MONDAY IV - November 5

"Did anyone else hear that mountain lion screaming down by the riverbottom last night?" Lee asked as he took his seat.
"We were just talking about that a few minutes ago," Gary said. "Not sure if it was a mountain lion, but I think I heard something big."
"Maybe it was Mike Cuthbertson's lion come to eat the rest of him," Kevin said.
"Cuthbertson's lion is dead and mounted over at Will Garret's store," Caleb said.
"Well, it was dead when it got his ear," Kevin said. "Why can't it git him again?"
"You have a point," Caleb agreed.
"What's this?" Tad asked, leaning forward. "A dead mountain lion got someone's ear?"
"Oh," Kevin said, chuckling his loud chuckle. "It was the damndest thing ever. Mike is Mr. Lion Hunter, you understand, and he's been after a real big ol' trophy for a couple years. Well, here what, a year ago?, he managed to tree this huge fuckin' monster lion and shot him. So there was this dead lion in the tree, and all of his hunting dogs barking at it from underneath, and he wanted to save it to get it mounted for his den, right? But he knew these dogs of his would tear it up if he knocked it out of the tree and just let it fall, so he took this huge stick and started poking at the lion from directly underneath it, so when it fell he could catch it," Kevin spread his arms to illustrate. "But on its way down, its paw swiped his head and tore his ear clean off."
"Holy shit," Tad said. "But you know, I've met Mike and he still has his ear. It's funny looking, but..."
"Oh, that's the other funny part," Rex said, warming to the subject. "Mike had to find his ear before his dogs did, and keep the lion from them, too. I don't know how he did it, but he did. Jesus, that man is tough. Anyway, he gets his ear, packs the lion out, about 15 miles or so, I think it was, gets in his car, and drives himself to the little country hospital there in Douglas. They don't know how to help him, so they phone ahead to the Wyoming Medical Center in Casper, pack his ear in DRY ICE, and send him on his way there.
"When he got to Casper, his ear was frostbitten!" Rex laughed, as did everyone else, even those who already knew the story. "But they sewed it back on anyway, just in case, and the ear made it. But that's why it's funny looking," he concluded.
"We must be talking about Mike Cuthbertson," Leah said, sitting down and pulling off her gloves. "The Lion King."
"Lion King, that's a good one," Gary said. "I think I'll start calling him that from now on. Good one, Leah."
"Oh, I didn't make that up. His wife calls him that," Leah smiled.
"Sounds like her," Lee said.
"So what prompted all of this?" Leah asked, pouring herself some coffee.
"All of us on the south end of town heard a mountain lion down by the riverbottom last night," Deirdre said. "So your dad thought maybe it was Mike's lion coming back for another piece."
"Oh, like Captain Hook's crocodile," Leah smiled. "That's funny!"
"Yeah, well, I try," Kevin said.
"You know, it's the damndest thing," Leah began. "Danny got wind of that story over the weekend, got hold of Hal Grossman, and actually wrote a coherent news story out of the thing."
"Who's Hal Grossman?" Tad asked.
"Our latest game warden," Gary said. "But I don't believe a word of it."
"What don't you believe?" Lee asked. "That there was a lion? That Hal answered the phone?"
"No, that Danny Zabrowskie wrote a coherent news story," Gary said. "Or even less likely, that Leah used 'coherent' and 'Danny' in the same sentence."
"I'm as shocked as you are," Leah said, giving Tad and Rex significant looks. "He's like a new man these days. All the stories he's filed so far for this week are written up right. Accurate, clear, organized, attributed... I tell you, it's downright spooky."
"Reverse pyramid and everything?" Paul prodded, knowing that Leah hated the traditional format for newspaper writing.
Leah rolled her eyes. "Actually, yes."
"Damn, that is a miracle," Paul said.
"So wait, was it a mountain lion, then?" Gary wanted to know.
"You'll have to wait for the paper, just like always," Rex said.
"Hey, if someone knows something like that, I consider it their duty to share it, paper or no paper. I need to know if I need to start bringing my dogs in at night," Gary said, glaring at Leah and Rex.
"I'd agree," Leah said. "Hal confirmed lion tracks along the east bank of the river, and some spoor. Thinks it's a big male. I'd definitely start bringing your dogs in at night, guys. Mine's not going anywhere at all until that thing is shot or trapped or whatever the hell they decide to do with it."
"Oh, they'll trap it and take it somewhere else in the state and let it loose to terrorize some other town. Never mind that it's a vicious killer and it's probably doing more economic damage than a forest fire," Gary groused.
"Then it'll find its way back down here and eat Gary's dogs," Lee said.
"Or it'll eat Gary," Rex said.
"Or it'll come after Mike and finish him off," Kevin said.
"You don't think the G&F will just shoot it?" Leah asked. "Hal told Danny they were considering it."
"Leah, for someone who grew up here you are just amazingly naive sometimes," Gary said. "The goddamn stump humpers and PETA have made a sensible solution like that impossible. Every goddamn Ranger Rick-reading schoolkid in the state would start crying and screaming and pestering their parents and they'd be howling for our blood in Cheyenne before the lion hit the ground."
"True, true," Leah sighed.
"It's a wonder they've never firebombed the Old Home Bar down the street over that diorama with the lions they've got," Gary continued.
"Those lions are so old and dusty they probably don't look real enough anymore," Lee said.
"Yeah, last time I was in there I could see a cobweb so thick hanging between that one lion's tooth and the antelope head on the ground it looked like a piece of rope," Leah said.
"They haven't cleaned that thing in 50 years, I'll bet," Gary said.
"Well, the stuffed animals would probably disintegrate the second the feather duster came near them," Rex said.
"If they could find a feather duster," Lee said. "Are there any left in town after you and your brother made that suit out of them for the poor Chicken Lady?"
"Oh, that was you guys?" Tad asked. "Hey, why do you pick on her, anyway?"
"She started it," Rex said.
"Yeah, a couple of years ago she and her husband filled up Ted's yard with turkeys for Thanksgiving and they've been pranking each other back and forth ever since," Lee said.
"Why's she called the Chicken Lady?"
"Because Ted and I set up a chicken coop full of roosters in HER yard for Christmas and she actually kept them. Tried to convince us all that she LOVES chickens," Rex said.
"Finally the neighbors called our attack zoning officer, who made her get rid of them," Gary said.
"Which she eventually did," Rex said.
"And then on the next Halloween she filled Rex's and Ted's truck cabs with the feathers," Lee said.
"Boy, I hope I never piss her off," Tad said. "Don't she and her husband own the feed store?"
"Yup. Lotta potential for mischief there," Lee agreed.
As the group continued to regale each other with Chicken Lady stories, Leah pulled her chair back a little and motioned to Rex and Tad.
"Guys," she whispered. "Can we talk a second after coffee?"
"Oh, we can talk now. Everybody's going to be telling Chicken Lady stories until lunchtime now," Rex said. "Happens all the time."
"But then I won't get to hear them," Tad pouted comically.
"You'll have plenty of chances this winter," Rex said. "'Specially come about February when there's nothing going on."
"You're not kidding," Leah said. "Anyway, what I've got to tell you is a little heartening. Danny totally remembers Kim."
"Well, that's good," Tad said, watching the stock ticker on the TV while he listened. "Hey, Gary! Your Cisco stock is going even farther into the toilet!"
"Don't even talk about it," Gary grumbled.
"So what does he remember?" Rex whispered.
"He doesn't remember Kim being the editor, but he does remember Kim... sort of."
"What are you guys whispering about over there?" Caleb demanded.
"Oh, they're probably plotting something silly," Deirdre said. "Rex and Leah are probably drafting Tad into the conspiracy."
"Conspiracy?" Leah said, alarmed.
"We all know it was you and Rex that put shrinkwrap around Sherwood's car the other day," Gary said. "So now you're going to try to drag poor old Tad into it, just because he's a newbie."
"Newbie, hell," Tad said. "Where do you think they got the shrinkwrap?"
"The cops'll be after you in no time, Tad," Gary said, shaking his head. "You've fallen in with the wrong crowd."
"From what I hear the cops are more likely to listen to Leah than to Sherwood," Tad said. "I think I'm safe."
"Until Leah turns on you," Gary said.
"I would never turn on Tad!" Leah said. "As long as he leaves my car alone."
"Wouldn't dream of doing a thing to that beauty," Tad said.
"There's nothing you COULD do to that beauty that she hasn't done to it herself," Kevin said.
"Anyway," Leah murmured to Tad and Rex as the laughter roared all around them, "He doesn't remember Kim being the editor, thinks I've been the editor all along, but he said he's known Kim his whole life and all of his other lives, too."
"All of his other lives," Rex began to laugh.
"What's so funny over there?" Gary demanded.
"Long story," Rex said. "Wait and see." Then to Leah, he said "So if you were the editor, then how did he know Kim?"
"Oh god, I definitely have to wait until after coffee to tell you," Leah said. "Everybody's getting too curious."
"Well, why don't we ask them about it?" Tad said.
"What do you mean? We've been over it and over it with them, remember?" Leah was stunned at the suggestion.
"Not about what Kim did or if they remember someone else being the editor, but just basically if they remember Kim at all."
"Oh, here we go again. You ask them. I'm sick of it," Leah said.
"So am I. But if you want to open that can of worms again, go ahead," Rex said.
"Fine, I will," Tad said. "Say, Leah," he said in a louder voice. "Whatever happened with that guy who died a few weeks ago. Was it a heart attack or what?"
"You mean there really was a guy who died that day they thought it was my dad?" Deirdre said.
"Yeah, there was," Tad said. "Leah's whacky little lackey was the guy who found him."
"Then how come there was nothing in the paper about it?" Gary asked suspiciously.
"There was, you probably just missed it," Rex chimed in, rubbing Leah's shoulder as she sighed audibly.
"Must not have been too interesting, then," Paul said.
"No, I suppose it wasn't," Gary said.
"So is there anything new?" Tad asked. "About him dying, I mean?"
"Who was it?" Kevin asked.
"Kim Huffnagle," Leah said tonelessly.
"Oh, that cigar-chomping old crank used to hang out at the gas station in the morning?" Caleb asked.
"Well, yeah, I think he hung out there once in a while," Leah said cautiously.
"Kind of funny, mousy hair? Scraggly beard? Weird eyebrows? Really dark eyes? That guy?" Caleb asked.
"Sounds like him. What do you remember about him?" Leah leaned forward, interested.
"Oh... not a lot... Dewey and Lane used to make fun of the way he talked, I remember. They spent a lot more time around him than I did. He bored me to tears. Actually put me to sleep once with that story about the hole he dug. He had to describe every shovelful of dirt, and then phhht! I was out like a light," Caleb shook his head. "Missed two service calls."
"What did he do for a living?" Leah asked.
"I don't know, I never saw him doing anything other than sitting at that back table, smoking cigars and talking. Even if no one was there," Caleb said.
"Hmm." Leah said. "I might have to talk to you about this some more sometime. But now, Gary, if you don't mind, I've got a paper to finish putting together. At least for a change I don't have to interrogate Danny about all of his stories..."
"Hey, speaking of that... You covering the airport board meeting tonight? We're up at my hangar at 7 o'clock," Lee reminded her.
"One of us will," Leah acknowledged.
"One of us? Don't send Danny, dammit! He–"
"Lee, if I can get my stuff done, I'll be there. But if we get behind, I need me there more than I need Danny. You know that."
"When's Gunter going to let you hire some help?"
"Call him and ask him," Leah shrugged.
Grabbing a pad and pen from Paul, Gary began the daily ritual. "All right, listen up..."

SATURDAY - November 3

Rex, Leah and Tad had chosen to take their mini-version of morning coffee in one of the side booths in the cantina, to avoid being overheard by straggling Saturday morning customers looking for hair of the dog and other remedies.
"Okay, boys, here's one thing I haven't told you about yet," Leah said, pulling out a stack of advertising order forms.
"What's this?" Rex frowned.
"These are all of the 'Elect Buford' ads and all that other silly crap that's been running since Will Garrett ran his first ad about our 'fascist dog laws' in Big Fittings," Leah said.
"And these are part of our current discussion because?" Tad asked, flipping through them.
"Look at the top one. See the signature? That's Will's signature. Here, compare it to his signatures for his last three ads for his outfitting business."
"I'm no graphologist," Rex's eyes waggled, as they always did when he used a word he didn't expect Leah to know he knew, "But they look to me like the same signature."
"That's because they are. I took these ads myself: see, there are my initials in the 'taken by' box," Leah said.
"That scribble is your initials?" Tad asked. "I can make out an 'L', but..."
"Trust me, she's been signing everything that way since she was a teenybopper. LAA. Leah Amelia Ambrose," Rex said.
"OK. So you know he took out these three ads, and this one..." Tad prodded.
"Now look at all of these other ads. At least one a week since the primaries. Note the signature, and the staff initials."
"Different signature, all right," Tad said, squinting. "All the initials boxes say DZ."
"Danny Zabrowskie."
"Danny took all these ads?" Rex asked.
"Well, again, I'm no graphologist either," here Leah winked at her friend, "But look at those really tall capital letters in his initials and those wide loops, and look at the fake Will Garrett signatures."
"So you think Danny forged these?" Tad frowned.
"I'm not done yet. Now here's the paper's last staff mileage report, which my editor – you guys both still remember that Kim was my editor, right?"
"Wouldn't be here if I didn't," Tad said.
"Who's Kim? OW!" Rex said, rubbing his shin. "Yes, I still remember."
"SO not funny, Rex my love. Anyway, which my editor has to sign before we can all get reimbursed. Look at this signature."
"OK, OK, so you're saying Kim wrote out these ad slips and signed them 'Will Garrett' in his own handwriting?"
"AND forged Danny's initials. Look here in Danny's column on the mileage report, where he has to put his initials."
"His writing's worse than yours, Leah!" Tad said.
"Doctors and serial killers and Leah," Rex smirked. "And Danny, I guess."
"Whatever. You see where I'm going with this, guys?"
"Kim placed all of the ads after the first one?" Tad said.
"BINGO!"
"Hey, this one is dated after he died, isn't it?" Rex pointed out.
"Oh, christ, you're right. I hadn't noticed that," Leah said. "No, wait, that's just the run date. It was placed–"
"The morning he died."
"Yeah, but he was there in the office that morning," Leah said.
"BUT," and here Rex brought out a photocopy with a flourish, "Here's a copy of the 'missing' newspaper article about Huffnagle's death, where the coroner puts his time of death, let's see, he was found at 9:30 and the Bruno said three hours before, 6:30 a.m. Do people usually come in at 6:30 on a Monday morning to place ads?"
"Jesus, I dunno, I'm never there that early, unless Kim has kept us for an all -nighter for a special section or something. I leave the chore of shoving the sun up to you spry old fellers," Leah said, patting Rex's hand affectionately.
"Someone's got to do it," Rex said in his best old man voice.
"But what you're saying is Kim could have put it in the system before he died, right?" Tad said.
"Not a lot of date verification goes on. We mostly," and again Leah grinned up at Rex, "Count on our customers to let us know when we get stuff like that wrong."
"So we have a dead guy who placed a lot of weird, provocative ads before he died, who nobody can remember now, and whose death notice has disappeared from printed copies of the paper, is that pretty much the size of it?"
"Yes," Leah said. "It is."
"Oh, and the coroner says he's got no wife, no horse and no mustache."
Leah looked at him alarmedly, catching the reference but unable to believe her grocer fiend had made it.
"I mean, no hair, no navel and no genitals." Tad added.
Rex nodded agreement, but then said, "You look like you've still got something bugging you about this, though, Tad."
"All right. Let's really put all our cards on the table here, guys," Leah interrupted. "Have either of you, oh god, I totally can't believe I'm asking this question... Have either of you, or your wife, Tim, or, I dunno, your little grey tabby mouser, Rex, or anyone you know..."
"Spit it out, Leah," Rex said. "Though... I think I know where you're going with this..."
Leah took a deep breath. "Just promise you won't call me nosy or a nut or anything, all right? All right. Have either of you had any really weird dreams lately?"
"Honey, I think any dream doesn't have naked ladies in it is weird," Tad said. Rex laughed along with him for a moment, but then noticed that Leah's eyebrows had shot up, and that all traces of humor had long departed from her face.
"No, I mean really weird," she said earnestly, putting a hand over one each of theirs.
Tad and Rex eyed each other.
"You're asking if we've dreamed about Huffnagle, aren't you?" Tad asked at last.
"Or something like him, yes," Leah said.
"Ah, now that IS interesting. Suzie!" Tad raised his hand. "We're going to need this carafe refilled. It's definitely going to be a three or four pot morning, I think."
Rex scrutinized Leah's face closely for a moment, a quizzical look on his face. His eyebrows went up in an unspoken question, which produced a vigorously negative head shake from the girl.
"I have," he said, then waited as Suzie poured another pot of coffee into their carafe.
"Tell us," Leah said.
"I hadn't gotten to sleep at my usual early hour, so I was really kind of groggy, but I really think that I was actually awake when I saw this," Rex began, staring nervously down into his cup as Leah poured him a refill. "And I didn't have my glasses on, of course..."
"It's okay, hon, just tell us," Leah prompted again.
"Well, I'm not used to telling people... this kind of thing... with a few exceptions, and even then, it's usually me listening to someone else telling this sort of thing... Anyway, I remember looking up from my bed to see what time it is – the only clock in the room that I can see in the dark is on the VCR – and I couldn't see the display on the VCR. I knew it was pretty late because you could see Orion perfectly through the patio doors in my bedroom... Anyway, I realized after a minute that I couldn't see the VCR display because there was something in front of it. I got up to move whatever it was, and it was... big... and when I touched it, it moved."
"And it wasn't your cat?" Leah asked, eyes wide.
"Oh no. Too big to be my cat, and no fur, and... very, very cold, but not cold like a thing... cold like... cold like your wife's feet when she crawls into bed after she's been out rabbit hunting in secret with your kids in the middle of the night. That kind of cold."
"Alive?" Tad asked.
"Oh yeah. Like I said, it moved. And my eyes got used to the dark a bit, and I could see it was shaped kind of like a person but with... this is so weird... backwards knees? And I could hear it whispering, but I couldn't make out what it said. But I realized I'd been hearing the same whispering in my dream, or in a different part of my dream... I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not, I still really just ain't sure whether or not I was dreaming, but it was whispering there in the dark, and it creeped me the hell out."
"What did you do?" Leah asked.
"Reached across to the bedside to turn on the lamp over there, but it took me a minute because I was disoriented, on the wrong side of the bed and everything, and when I turned back there wasn't anything there."
Leah seemed on the verge of panic, reacting, perhaps, with disproportionate horror to the narrative. She grabbed Rex's hand and squeezed it tight. He squeezed it back and did not let go.
"You all right, Leah?" Tad asked.
"Yeah, just..." she looked bewilderedly at Rex before taking a deep breath and continuing. "That really, really freaks me out..." she trailed off.
"You okay, hon? I think you know what you're thinking," Rex said, and nodded.
"It's just that something very similar happened to me the other night. Except I could see better and... is there still a cold spot on the floor where that thing or whatever was in your room, Rex?"
"I... guess I'll have to check."
"I bet there is. OK, same thing. I woke up, about 3 a.m. or so, real Hour of the Wolf type stuff, you know–" Rex and Tad both looked at each other, shaking their heads "Oh, it's a Russian thing. And a Bergman film. Anyway, that really late and creepy hour when everything that's bugging you just sits in your head and won't let you go, and I remember just completely freaking out that I'd never be able to run the paper myself, it would be so much better if we could get, oh, my mom or Ellen or pretty much anyone else on the planet to do it–"
"Nonsense, you've done a great job so far. That special section on the election kicked ass!" Tad said.
"Thanks, but no amount of assurance like that works during the Hour of the Wolf, and all of this stuff was running through my head, and all the sudden I remember thinking 'Wow, writing in Buford for mayor would really shake all of this up. Everybody'd be so freaked out and so interested or whatever that nothing I did, no matter how stupid, would matter because no one would notice.' And then I remember thinking 'What the hell am I thinking; that man is insane and I'd be stuck with him every other Wednesday for two years, plus whatever other mischief he could cause,' and so on. And then I looked up, and I saw him."
"Definitely a him?" Tad asked.
"Not just a him. A whom. As in Kim, except without any clothes. Or hair. And he was just like the coroner had described him. No navel, no sex organs. Not even any nipples."
"He was in your house?" Tad asked, incredulously.
"What did your dog do? She doesn't like men much," Rex explained to Tad. "Took six months of dog biscuits and visits to my store before she'd not bark at me, for instance. Longer yet to get used to Leah's old man, right?"
"Yeah," Leah said. "She went and hid in her 'cave' in the closet, just like she used to when you came to dinner."
"So, was this Kim thing whispering, too?" Rex asked.
"Yes. I couldn't really make anything out, though. Mostly 'k' sounds and really aspirated phonemes like that," she replied.
"Aspirated phonemes? Sounds like a hemhorroid medicine," Tad said.
"Speech sounds that use quick breaths," Leah explained. "'K', 'P', 'Sss', 'T', stuff like that."
"Only our Leah would even notice something like that," Rex said.
"Well... yeah," Leah said. "And there was this funny smell... not nasty or anything, kind of like... incense or something."
"Pheromones," Tad said, slapping his hand down on the table. "I read about this in the Enquirer."
Leah chuckled. "Hey, I can't rule anything out at this point. Anyway, I just felt really weird, and even more anxious. And then he was gone. I remember calling out to him, I knew it was Kim and I knew he wanted something, but he was gone."
"Sound at all familiar, Tad?" Rex wanted to know.
"Well, yeah. No smells and I don't remember any whispering, but something spooked my dogs and looked like a bald man with a really big head and it was standing really close to my side of the bed," Tad said.
"Mine was just like three nights ago," Leah said.
"Four or five," Rex said.
"Night before last," Tad said.
"So all definitely after Kim died, or whatever," Leah concluded.
"What's up with the autopsy, by the way?" Tad asked.
"Oh, you mean I forgot to tell you guys?"
"Tell us what?" Tad and Rex both asked, almost in unison.
"Bruno can't find the body. And now he just totally doesn't even remember ever having had it. Swears to god I'm making the whole thing up."
The trio just sat there for a while and stared at each other as Suzie refilled their carafe again.
"Everybody thinks I'm making the whole thing up, actually, except for your two," Leah said, looking dejectedly into her coffee cup. "And before this morning, guys, I was starting to think everybody was right."
"Well, if you made it up, you did a good job," Tad said.
"And you did a really good job making us believe it," Rex said.
"At least now I know you guys aren't just humoring me," Leah, suddenly very tired, said. "There's no way you could have made up the same dream or whatever...
"Crap, guys, what do I do about this?" she asked after a moment.
"Do about what? The ads? The story?"
"Well, that and running this paper," Leah nodded. "Jesus, I was already burning out just writing the thing and trying to fix all of Danny's stories before they saw print; now I've got to run it, too?"
"I think that you're going to do just fine," Rex said, a little sternly. "You've just got the jitters. But if you really don't think you're up to it, I suppose you could ask Gunter to hire somebody. Though I think that would be blowing your big chance."
"Oh, I didn't tell you that, either? Gunter's already in step with the rest of the town. Judging from the chat I had with him on the phone yesterday afternoon, he doesn't remember Kim, iether."
"Wouldn't he have records on him or something? W-2s and I-9s and things?" Rex, ever the businessman, asked.
"Yeah, I asked him... Look, it was really weird. You know how hard it was to get all our coffee buddies to even sort of remember that something had happened last week? Just even introducing the subject... Jesus. So anyway, I asked Gunter to check over his personnel files and stuff. I had to pretend I was getting info for an employment reference. Guys, Gunter didn't have a thing on him. And then he started chewing me out for having hired someone under the table and not telling him. 'You've been too good an editor to mess it up by pulling that kind of crap, Leah,' he says, and goes on to detail to me all the trouble HE could get into for not having documentation on his workers and stuff."
"OK, so I guess Gunter's messed up, too, then. By the way," Tad said, rubbing his chin. "Does Danny remember this guy?"
"Danny only remembers his own name because people are always yelling it at him," Rex said. "He probably thinks his last name is 'Dumbass.'"
"You know, I haven't even bothered to ask him," Leah said. "I should, I really should. He seems so much more... I don't know... lucid, now? His conversations make a lot more sense, anyway. He's still obsessed with whackos and gave me a 45 minute lecture about how sunlight has weight, but it was a very reasonable lecture about sunlight having weight, thesis, antithesis, conclusion, the whole bit... rather remarkable, really."
"What was he like before?" Tad asked.
"He didn't even try to tie his sentences together. He'd start off with something like 'Did you know the earth was hit by two million pounds of sun last year?' and next thing you knew he wast talking about Atlantis with no attempt to connect them at all. It's hard to describe," Leah said.
"Sounds like my kind of guy," Tad said, giving a thumbs-up.
"Oh, you'd love him," Rex said, rolling his eyes. "He's a real crap artist."
"But now he's apparently a less scatterbrained crap artist?" Tad continued.
"Yeah, I guess we could say that. Too soon to tell, maybe," Leah said.
"Is he off the pot or what?"
"You know, I never ever heard him say anything about smoking or anything. That's just my dad's theory," Leah said. "Everytime someone's a little weird, Dad assumes he's on drugs."
"Usually a safe assumption," Rex said.
"Well, but you know, I've been around a few potheads in my day, and he didn't really strike me as one. Potheads are sort of slow and slothful and got no ambition at all. Danny's a complete spaz, can't sit still, always running around, talks a blue streak – I mean really, I sometimes gotta wonder if he breaths... No, not pot. Just nuttiness, I think. Some people are just born weird," Leah concluded.
"Or something makes 'em weird," Tad said.
"You're maybe positing that because he hung around Kim so much something was making him weird?" Rex asked.
"Makes a weird kind of sense," Tad said. "Somehow or other something is making everyone forget this guy, right? Everyone except for people who never really met him, like me, or people who have some kind of untamperable evidence that he existed, like you two. What's doing it?"
"I follow you," Leah said. "If something about Kim could make people forget him, and if Danny spent lots of time around him, A. Danny would be the most likely person to remember him, so B. Whatever it is would have to work hardest on making Danny forget, and C. Maybe it worked too well or something? Wait, that doesn't work. Nobody was forgetting Kim while he was alive, so whatever it is wasn't happening then... God, I'm so not the person to be dealing with this..."
"Yes you are," Rex said.
"And we're here for you," Tad said.
"I think what really needs to happen next is you need to have a sit-down with Danny and see what he knows, what he remembers, what he thinks. Maybe, at least, it won't be as big of a pain in the ass as it used to be," Rex said.
"Yeah, maybe he'll even wind up being normal before long," Tad said.
"That would be interesting," Leah acknowledged. "It might have to wait, though. We've got another paper to get out. Always another paper to get out." She sighed. "In fact, crap, what time is it? I've got to go take photos of that thing at the high school."
"It's just past 11," Rex said.
"OK, I'd better go. I'll talk to Danny maybe on Monday, if we get a little downtime. Should be interesting. God, guys, why didn't I think about doing that sooner?"
"You're used to writing him off as a meatball," Tad shrugged. "It happens."
"Yeah, you're right. Look, I've got coffee today," Leah said, waving Suzie down. "Thanks for listening and everything."
"Keep us posted, and let us know what else we can do," Rex said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"Will do. Don't forget about him," Leah said seriously. "In fact, would you mind making a few copies of that clipping so we can each have one? Plus, I could use one to show to Danny. Since the 'real' newspapers don't have it anymore, that's all we've got."
"Wow," Rex said. "Only thing to prove a man existed is a newspaper clipping from a guy's scrapbook. You got it. Come by the store when you're done taking pictures and I'll have some copies for you."
"OK. Thanks again, guys. You're the best," Leah said, kissing each of them on the cheek as she rose to go.
"Anytime," they said.

FRIDAY III - November 2

"Has anyone seen Tad today?" Leah asked as she rushed into the cantina, her face stricken.
"I think he had to go to Loose Cannon this morning. Why?" Rex asked.
"Oh, just something we had to figure out before the weekend. I guess it can wait. Is he gone all day?" Leah was still standing in the doorway.
"I don't know. Look, you coming in? You're letting out all the heat!" Rex shivered and pulled his vest tighter around himself.
"I guess so. Crap. Oh well. Sure." Leah pulled off her gloves shoved them into her pockets, and threw her coat over a chair next to Rex.
"Don't let us detain you," Gary said. "We'd hate to think we were wasting your time."
"Sorry, Gary, just preoccupied. Last night was weird."
"Well, it's always weird on Thursdays. It's Lion's night." Walt said.
"Not just us, not just us. You and your sister were having quite a discussion in here last night," Caleb observed.
"Fighting about the haunted house? Can't say I didn't warn you!" Kevin said.
"No, nothing like that. We were just comparing notes on something and kind of... Well, it got a little drunk out last night, as several of you know," Leah said.
"Not me, I took my winnings and went home like a good boy," Rex said. "I bet I was asleep before you and Ellie-Wellie were even tipsy."
"As much booze as those two can put away, I'd believe it," Kevin said, shaking his head.
"Chips off the old block, I'd say," Gary observed. Kevin just nodded, a little ruefully.
"So what were you two talking about so intensely?" Caleb prodded.
"Staffing issues," Leah said, a trifle evasively. "Just staffing stuff."
"She trying to get rid of her assistant again? Or are you trying to get her to join you at the paper?" Kevin asked.
"Oh god, can you imagine her and me working together in the same office? Remember what happened during that overlap when MOM was her secretary? They drove each other NUTS. And Ellen's the patient one!"
"I wouldn't say that," Gary said. "She didn't take it too well when we teased her about being mean to your poor old grey-haired momma and making her make photocopies. Hasn't been back to coffee since, has she?"
"Oh, she comes sometimes on holidays when certain people," here Leah glared at Caleb, "Aren't here."
"Can I help it if she can't handle being reminded of stupid things she did in high school? Hell, that's all we talk about come about February," Caleb said.
"Well, she's very thin-skinned," Leah said.
"Which is why you're the politician and she's not," Kevin said.
"Still, you've got to wonder how many people thought they were voting for her instead of you..." Rex said.
"Hey, we took out an ad to clarify it and everything," Leah said. "Not my fault if people thought they were voting for the pretty one."
"Keyboard! And fishing for compliments."
"Whatever. Suzie," Leah said, eying Paul's customary glass of ice water. "Can I have one of those, too, this morning? Thanks."
"Hoo hoo, you must have had a good time. Got a little headache, do we?" Rex teased.
"No, just wanted something cold to drink."
"We've been using that one since before you were born, honey," Rex said.
"So, can I just ask you all a question?" Leah said after the knowing sniggers died down.
"Don't see why not," Gary said.
"Do you guys all remember about, oh, ten days ago when I had to cover a possible murder for the paper?"
"I remember they thought for a while that my dad had had a heart attack," Deirdre began, frowning, "The stupid fuckers, but it turned out to be some other guy who had the same first name, and then not much came of it after that, did it?"
"Do any of you remember who the guy with the same first name was?"
"Hmm... This conversation is starting to sound a little familiar," Walt said. "Didn't you ask us about this a few days ago?"
"Oh, I might have. Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Remember anything about the guy who had the same name as Dee's dad? The one who died?"
"No, I don't think I knew him," Walt said.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh... Nope, neither did I," Tom said.
"Paul?"
"Another guy named Kim? I'm pretty sure I'd remember that if there was somebody," Paul said.
Growing still more exasperated, Leah turned to the others. "Rex? Dad? Caleb? Roger? Mark?"
"Mark's really bad with names," Roger said. Leah shot him a dirty look.
"You guys aren't pulling my leg or anything, right?"
"Wish we'd thought of this, since you're so very shaken up, but no," Rex said.
"I haven't tried to fool you since you caught your grandma playing Santa Claus," Kevin said.
"You swear you're not messing with me? None of you?" Leah demanded.
"Of course not. What's this all about?" Deirdre asked.
"Gary!" Leah called out. "How long have I been editor of the Reader?"
"Jesus, let me think... coupla years, um..."
"Wrong! Deirdre?"
"I'm with Gary, it's been a long time..."
"Wrong! Dad? Rex?"
"Is this a trick question?" Rex asked.
"Well, kind of. I'll rephrase it. Rex... how long have I been ACTING editor?"
"Oh, oh, is this sort of like the way Kim Huffnagle used to always harass Dave at the Loose Cannon Leader by calling him an 'interim editor? OH!!!!!!!!! I see what you MEAN!!!!!" Rex said, excitedly.
Leah stood up from her chair in her excitement. "YES! Gold star to the cute balding guy with the glasses. Oh, make that the cute BLUSHING balding guy with glasses. YES! UP UNTIL HIS DEATH TWO WEEKS AGO, KIM HUFFNAGLE WAS THE EDITOR OF THE BIG FITTINGS REPUBLICAN READER."
"Bullshit," Gary said.
"I'm with Gary on this one, honey. Do you have another sinus infection or something?" Kevin asked.
"No, no... Leah's right... I'm having a little trouble pinning down why, but I think she's right," Rex said.
"Who is it you're talking about now?" Walt asked again.
"Kim Huffnagle. New Jersey accent. Died two weeks or so ago at age 64. My boss up till that time. This guy," Kim said, passing around a blow-up of the dead man's column photo. Her friends passed the photo around.
"This guy could be any one of those scraggly bearded weirdos who hang out here after the mill shuts down every night," Gary said.
"Nah, he looks too old for that," Deirdre said.
"I might have seen this guy once at church," Walt said, but I probably thought he was some passing bum.
"Or one of those preachers you guys are always hiring and losing," Gary said.
"Did this guy smoke cigars by any chance?" Rex asked. "Ones you can't really get around here anymore?"
"YES! Another point to the cutie with the glasses!" Leah said excitedly, blowing Rex a kiss. "He used to get them from Rudi the Nazi barber, but when Rudi left town he had to start special ordering them from some shop in Fort Collins."
"Same place I get mine," Rex said. "That's why his name is familiar! It was always on the delivery guy's list above mine."
"Do you remember ever meeting him?" Leah prodded.
"Saw him every month when he brought me my cigars," Rex said, puzzled.
"No, I mean Kim Huffnagle!"
"You're awfully upset about this, honey. You sure you're not getting sick?" Kevin asked again.
Leah all but hopped up and down as she burst out, "Dad, yes I am upset. I'm upset because none of you can even remember the guy I worked for for nearly three years, who choked me out of our building on an hourly basis with the smoke chugging out of his office, who bored the pants off of me with the same two or three stories every day for years, who cut all the adjectives out of my articles and told me I needed to dumb them down and look, look, all of your faces are still blank except for Rex's! Look!"
And it was true: Rex was nodding vigorously with Leah's every point, while the rest of Leah's coffee circle were still puzzling over the photograph or idly watching the stock ticker roll by on CNN Headline News playing, muted, as always, on the TV just above her head.
"Well, I don't remember all that stuff, Leah, but damn, the man did have good taste in cigars," Rex said. "And, well, I do remember you bitching about him for some reason..."
"But that's all?" Leah asked. "You don't remember the day your bookkeeper tried to get you to threaten a lawsuit for her when Danny got the engagement notice for her daughter wrong, for instance? No suit, but you did come in instead of letting Geraldine come because Geraldine, and this is a direct quote, 'wanted to hand him his balls for breakfast.'"
"I remember her being mad at Danny, but no, I don't remember getting involved in it," Rex said.
"JEE-sus! What WAS it... IS it... WAS it about this guy?" Leah roared. "Gary, run the numbers. I have to get out of here before I say something I wind up regretting later or something. No, forget it, don't even run the numbers; I'll just buy. HERE!!" she flung a ten dollar bill in the direction of the counter and stormed out.
"I'd better see what's up with her," Kevin began.
"No, I think I know what's up; she'll just yell at you some more, Kev. I'll take this one," Rex said, patting his old friend on the shoulder as he got up.
Leah was sitting, shaking on the bench outside the bar.
"That was quite a production in there," Rex began.
"Rex, if you're going to patronize me or pretend you understand or... or.. anything, I swear I'll squash you like a bug... I'll knock your block off, I'll..."
"Shh..." Rex said, putting an arm around her as he sat next to her. "I agree that there's something weird about this. I talked to Tad a little about it at Lions last night. He told me a little bit because he didn't think he'd be here today – you guys have really gotten to be good friends already, haven't you?"
"Except for you, and of course my dad and Gary, he's already about the best friend I have in this town," Leah agreed. "He's off his rocker and can be a pain in the ass, but he's a great guy."
"Agreed, agreed. And for some reason, he's in the same boat with you on this Huffnagle thing. Wanna talk about it for a minute, and I'll try to keep up? At the very least you'll maybe feel better, and you know I won't mess with you. I'd never mess with you. I don't always act like it, but I do love you to pieces, you know."
"I know. All right. Look, first, what do you remember of what I said in there?"
"Not... quite what I was expecting you to say there, but... all right, all right, I can see you're serious. You said he was your editor for a few years, and you used to bitch about him... his editing jobs, right? And you alluded to some incident with Geraldine's daughter's engagement notice that Danny screwed up... is that what you mean?"
"But you don't remember that YOU went to see Kim instead of Geraldine doing it because Ger was too hot and you needed to place an ad anyway? Don't answer right away, think hard, please? It's important."
Puzzled, but seeing it was indeed very important to his friend, Rex crinkled his forehead in thought for a moment before answering. "Well, vaguely... So he really was the editor for a little while...? Yeah, maybe, yeah..."
"Right close to three years. Rex," Leah took his face between her hands. "Rex, I was NEVER the editor in chief of the Reader. I've been the head reporter for two and a half years. Before that I wrote columns and stuff once in a while, but," and she pulled his face down a little closer to hers, "I was just made ACTING editor a little less than two weeks ago, after Huffnagle died."
Rex absorbed this. "Jesus, woman, this is giving me a headache," he said after a pause.
"I'm sorry, but it's important to me. I've got to... got to figure out what's real, here. Because there's more."
Rex's eyes widened. "You mean that cockamamie crap Tad was talking about with the switched papers or whatever is true, too?"
"Damn, I'm going to KILL him. He was supposed to keep this under his hat until we could figure out what's going on," Leah muttered.
"Hey, in his defense, I pretty much made him do it. We made a bet on whether or not a team we were watching would get a first down and I made him tell me what you guys have been staying late after coffee to talk about... Oh, bye Deirdre, Caleb, Paul. No, no, it's all right here. I'm just trying to see if Leah will let me take her out to lunch today."
"See you tomorrow, guys," Leah said. "Oh. Wait. I mean Monday. See you Monday." She waved as her friends receded from sight down the street, in search of their cars.
"He still didn't have to get into the whole deal with the papers and everything," Leah said darkly.
"Well, he'd had a few beers, and I'd had a few beers, and I'd cleaned him out at poker, and we'd been talking about you and Ellen for a little while anyway – you were out there arguing in the front of the bar–"
"God, we were arguing about this very thing. She's absolutely positive that I've been the Reader editor for even longer than she's run the chamber of commerce. My own sister!"
"So I went back to my office and, you know Auggie, that guy who cleans up the store after hours while I'm doing the books at night?"
"Paul's grand-nephew, the one who got hurt in that accident when I was a kid?"
"Yeah, that one. Well, he keeps this scrapbook of obituaries and things. Some kind of hobby of his. He shows it to me sometimes when we're having a smoke."
"I wish you would find a way to quit that, by the way," Leah said absently. "If my dad can do it, anyone can."
"I'll quit when you stop bumming them off me, sweetie," he said, hugging her closer. "Anyway, he showed me the scrapbook this morning, and that article that's missing from last week's paper was in it. He'd clipped it first thing last week, I guess, and there it was."
"Hmm. So maybe that's why you remember better than my dad and everyone," Leah mused.
"Maybe so, maybe not. Anyway, I definitely see why you're so worked up over this. And, by the way, that lunch invitation still stands if you want to talk about this some more."
"Oh, I'd love to, but: A. People gossip about us enough already, and B: I'm having lunch with Mom and Ellen today. Oh, and C: I think we should have Tad with us, too, since he remembers even better than I do."
"You're right, I think he does. Well, how about this: why don't you and Tad and I break all the rules, all the rules, and meet here for coffee tomorrow morning. Our first ever Saturday morning coffee."
"Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures, and all that?"
"Exactly."
"Well," Leah said, taking his hand, "I'll make sure Suzie knows to make us some coffee if you make sure Tad knows to join us."
"Sounds like a plan, schnookie."
"All right, schnookie. You'd better get back to the store, and I'd better go check on Danny. He really is doing better, you know."
"Well," Rex said, peering at her mysteriously over his glasses with a conspiratorial smile, "You did say he used to spend all his free time hanging around Kim."
Leah's mouth opened, and closed, and opened again, trying to form words that wouldn't come. Then, finally...
"Rex Allan Wainwright, you remember more than you've been letting on!"
"Maybe so, my dear, maybe so. But maybe more than one of us has been. Until tomorrow!" he said, and took her hand and kissed it.
"Until tomorow."

THURSDAY III - November 1

"Leah, I'd lay low for a day or so if I were you, honey," Kevin said as his daughter walked through the door. "Your sister is pretty pissed."
"How come?" Leah said absently, sitting between Tad and Rex, as usual.
"You sent Danny to take pictures of the haunted house. What were you thinking?" Kevin said, concernedly.
"I had a council meeting last night, remember? And it went extra long because of that guy who wants to build a doggie playground. Wasn't enough for him to say his piece, he got every dog nut in that club of his to show up. We had to listen to them all. 'Um, uh, you know, dogs are a really, really important part of people's life and they, they lower dog pressure, and they, they, they need a place to play too,'" Leah said, aping an infamous "dog pound lady" of everyone's acquaintance.
"Well, Ellen says he knocked over four or five pieces of scenery and tried to pull off somebody's mask in front of a bunch of little kids and was just a general meatball," Kevin said.
"Wow. He's been doing so much better lately, I guess I thought..."
"What do you mean, like remembering appointments on his own?" Paul laughed.
"Well, that, and the football story was the only thing he got wrong, and that was pretty much a straight switcheroo. I... don't know what to say," Leah said.
"Well, say it to your sister. I'm not getting in the middle of this," Kevin said.
"Say it to me, too. It wasn't a mask he tried to pull off, it was my face," Tad said. Rex did a classic spit-take, spraying coffee onto his toast.
"You're kidding!" Rex said, recovering.
"You should have seen the make-up job that girl did on me. I didn't think I looked real, either," Tad said. "Those people go all out!"
"Yes, they do. I liked the stuff with the aliens dissecting the elementary school principal myself," Gary said. "You guys should have heard him, wailing and moaning and thrashing around and calling to the kids by name, 'Help me, help me!' I haven't laughed that hard in years. Scared the piss out of my granddaughter, though."
"Oh no, literally?" Leah asked. "I did hear about that."
"Your sister is probably going to be really pissed when she gets to clean THAT up," Gary said, nodding.
"I hear Rex's brother Teddy scared the hiccoughs out of Bill's wife," Leah said.
"Oh yeah, he was talking about that at the bar later," Rex said, continuing to guffaw. "He was dressed as a tree, and I guess she just thought he was part of the scenery, and when he tapped her on the shoulder and said 'Hi, Mrs. Greenwood' she jumped about a foot I guess."
"How does he end up in get-ups like that every year?" Gary said. "Wouldn't catch me dead doing that."
"Except for the year you were the mummy," Leah reminded him. "It took Ellen and me, what, an hour to wrap all those bedsheets around him?"
"Damn near cut off my circulation, you silly wenches," Gary grumbled, but he was smiling.
"So I got off easy as the 'human salami,' huh?" Tad asked.
"Human WHAT?" Bill said, walking in, huffing and puffing from his bike ride.
"Human Salami. Last night in the haunted house," Tad said.
"Oh, that was you, wasn't it. It was so dark and my wife was so busy hiccoughing and grabbing my arm I couldn't quite tell who anybody was. How'd they rig you up like that?"
"They had me sit down, and wrapped this black cloth around my legs, got a pair of kids' pants, tucked my shirt into them, stuck a big ol' salami in one of the pantlegs, and gave me a knife. Served myself up as horzes doovers," Tad said proudly.
"Originally that was going to be Ellen's boyfriend, but he got a paying job down in Denver," Leah said.
"You don't say?" Kevin said.
"Dad, he always does those haunted house things. That's the real funny part – that's why Ellen said she didn't need me to help her find people this year. Her boyfriend does these big fancy haunted house things in Colorado every year, except this year they decided to go on strike because they weren't getting paid enough, so she was going to get them for free – go figure, but boys are dumb – but then at the last minute Elitch's or whoever showed them the contracts they'd signed last year that basically said they HAD to work, so off they went."
"So who'd she get, then?" Kevin asked.
"Me..." Rex sighed.
"And me," Caleb said.
"Me, too," said Deirdre.
"Oh, that's too funny. Who were you guys?" Kevin asked.
"Oh, we were the aliens," Rex said.
"Oh! Oh! You said no one was ever stuffing you in a latex mask again! Oh!" Leah said.
"Well, this year she had beer coolers at all of the stations," Caleb said.
"And she promised mine would have–" Rex began, but Leah cut him off.
"Guinness?"
"Guinness."
"But you only drink that stuff with me, now. We made a pact," Leah said, poking him in the shoulder.
"Well, drinking with your sister is almost drinking with you," Rex said lamely.
"And for that you missed the council meeting. So there was no one but me, ME!, to address all that lingering crap about Jim Morris's house! You owe me bigtime, buddy."
"I won't disagree with you there," Rex said.
"Did Mack show up, then?" Gary asked.
"No, but I guess he stirred up all the neighbors. Doesn't appear to have told two of them the same story either. Like the dogpound ladies weren't enough, oy!"
"Dogpound ladies sing their song–" Tad began to sing.
"Doo-dah, doo-dah" most of the table joined them.
"Oh my god, that was so bad you guys," Deirdre said. "She's going to kill you. Look at her!"
"No. No I'm not. Some things are just not worth the dignity of a response," Leah said.
"So aside from that, how was your last meeting with that crew?" Gary asked Leah.
"Oh, there's still two more before the new council," Leah said.
"Well, it was still the last one before Election Day," Gary said.
"You're wanting to know if Colson was grandstanding or anything? No. He mostly just sat there looking confused, like he always does," Leah said.
"That's because he turns off his hearing aids during the Pledge of Allegiance," Rex said.
"You guys can see that from the floor, can you?" Leah asked.
"No, but you just confirmed it!"
"Ass," Leah said.
Rex just made kissing noises at her.
"So, hey, Leah, did you find out who was buying those ads?" Paul asked as he pulled up a chair next to Gary.
"Dammit, Paul, you're not allowed to sit there anymore. You stick me for coffee way too often," Gary said.
"Oh, pshaw," Paul said. "I haven't gotten you in ages. Did you, Leah?"
"Which ads? The Buford for mayor stuff?"
"Yeah, those," Paul said, lifting carafe after carafe, looking for a full one.
"Suzie's making more," Gary told him.
"Funny you should ask. There's something very, very weird about those, Paul." Leah said.
"What's that?" Paul asked.
"Does the name Kim Huffnagle mean anything to you?"
"Deirdre's dad?"
"My dad's name is McGonagle, you dope," Dee said, swatting him.
"Oh. Then, no. Should it?"
"I guess not," Leah said, shaking her head and looking at Tad.
"Why?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure it was him," Leah said.
"Some greenie or other trying for the Golden Spoon Award, hmm?" Paul said.
"What do you mean by that?" Tad asked indignantly.
"For stirring the pot," Paul said.
"No, I know what that is. I mean about greenies!"
"Oh, present company excepted, of course. You're not a born greenie anyway, I hear," Paul said.
"Well, no, I'm from Illinois originally. But greenies are people, too, dammit!" Tad wiped at an imaginary tear.
"Only if they bring enough money," Caleb said.
"Only until we perfect our state line cash extraction system," Gary said.
"I can see I'm outnumbered on this point," Tad said, shrugging.
"Aw, we know what you mean, sweetie," Leah said.
"Yeah, we don't need to perfect our cash extraction system as long as the dummies keep buying day licenses to fish the good side of Big Creek," Rex said. "Thank god for dumb greenies."
"Did you see that kid that went through the haunted house last night? He wore these fancy waders and shit and had Monopoly money falling out of all of his pockets and green food coloring on his face and went as a 'Gosh Darned Greenie.'" Deirdre said.
"Oh yeah! He went as Al Gore last year. Wore a blue suit and drew all these joints and things on his body and looked like a robot or a dummy or something. Funny kid," Caleb agreed.
"I went as Bill Clinton last year," Tad said.
"How'd you do it?" Leah asked.
"All I needed was a suit, a grey wig, and a sticky cigar," Tad said.
"Oh gawd," Leah and Deirdre and Rex all said at once.
"No wonder you and Leah are buddies. She went as the Unabomber a while back," Rex said.
"Before they knew who it was," Leah clarified. "I was in the middle of moving, so I wasn't even going to go to Dee's dad's party, but they insisted, and so I just through on a hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses and grabbed one of my boxes that was still sealed up, and voila!"
"She went all around the party telling people 'This is for you.' It was really bad," Deirdre said.
"Did the box tick?" Tad asked.
"No, it was just some of my comic books inside," Leah said. "But the thought counted!"
"Yes, it did," Kevin said. "My daughter the terrorist."
"Is that why they call your house the Unabomber Cabin?" Tad asked.
"One reason, yes," Leah acknowledged.
"The other reason being that it's a ramshackle, tiny piece of crap that just happens to be by the river," Kevin said. "I have to listen to her bitch about how cold it is in there every winter."
"Long as she keeps buying space heaters, I'm happy," Rex said.
"I have pretty nice parties there in the summer, you've got to admit," Leah lectured her friend and her father.
"First bad mosquito year and they'll suck, too," Kevin said.
"But I sell citronella torches!" Rex said.
"See what I put up with, Tad?" Leah asked.
"I don't see a gun to your head," he observed.
Leah sighed. "You have a point, you have a point." Then she leaned over and whispered "Can I see you for a sec after coffee?"
Tad nodded as Gary bellowed "All right, Bill says he's got an appointment. One to 1000."
******
As the last of their friends departed or went into the kitchen, Tad and Leah sat down again for a brief chat.
"So all of the other papers were missing that story, weren't they?" Tad asked.
"Yeah, but last week's layout flat had the story I wrote about him dying still on it. That's the thing we take over to the printer's in Loose Cannon to shoot the films to print from."
"Films?"
"Yeah, and before you ask, the films had it, too. So the papers that Rex brought back from Loose Cannon last week all had my story, and if you remember, it was in the paper for Gary to read aloud last Wednesday."
"No, I wasn't here then, I was up at the store, but I remember seeing it, too. So you have no idea what happened, do you?"
"None at all."
"Could it be a prank?"
"Pretty elaborate prank. Someone would need a printing press and some way of switching every single copy after they'd all gone to the post office and stuff."
"Does Paul still have a press or anything?"
"It's down at the Battle Mountain Museum, and I don't know if it still works. Besides, totally not Paul's style."
"If you say so."
"I do."
"Then who? I swear it's not a Lion's Club prank. Those guys all love giving you shit, but they're more likely to do something simple, messy and easy like T.P. your house, from what I've seen so far."
"Joined the Lions already?"
"I was a member down in Colorado, and they were a lot like these guys."
"No wonder you fit in here so well," Leah said admiringly. "Anyway, I'm fresh out of ideas of how this happened." She looked around the empty room, then forced a chuckle. "Your alien theory looks more and more plausible."
"I wanted to talk to you a bit about that," Tad said. "You said he was born on Halloween?"
"Yeah, I finally saw his driver's license myself. Oh, and I got his age screwed up in the story that... no one can find now. He was born in 1937."
"Oh boy, this is going to sound really weird, but... You know what happened on Halloween night of 1937?"
"Um, my MOM was conceived right around then, but I don't know it was that particular date, but... something tells me that's not what you're talking about..."
"God, you're too young to remember. Hell, I'm too young to remember. Look, you seem kind of, well, forgive me, but, kind of... nerdy... Did you ever see a movie called 'Buckaroo Banzai?'"
"Only every other week in college, among many other times, yes. Ohh... You're talking about the prank Orson Welles pulled over the radio. Shit, shit, shit, that's too funny - Kim was from New Jersey!"
"Grover's Mill?"
"Grover's Mill. He actually used to joke about that 'War of the Worlds' broadcast. Damn, that did happen on his birthday. Oh, Tad, you don't really think...?"
"I'm not saying nothing, you can't quote me, this is off the record, your publisher guy would tell you it's too weird anyway."
"Ok, but still, that doesn't explain why nobody else can even remember him anymore..."
"Hey, what do we know about aliens really? What we read in the Weekly World News? I hear they make that shit up."
"You know, I always used to dream about writing for them. Like writing science fiction, only never having to come up with a plot."
"Well hey, now's your chance. Start with that coroner's report thing. Still have it?"
"Yes. And thanks to you I'm now totally afraid to jack into the LAN. I've been e-mailing everything to the office computers."
"Good. Look, I have to get back to the store. Keep me posted, okay? There's something else I've got to tell you, but today's a really busy day."
"All right. There's something I've got to tell you, too."
"I wonder if it's the same thing," Tad said cryptically as he left.

WEDNESDAY III - October 31

"Another half-decent paper, there, Leah," Paul congratulated her as Leah walked through the door.
"Well, aren't you funny?" Leah snarled as she sat down.
"No, I mean it," Paul said, puzzled.
"You obviously haven't read the sports page yet," Rex giggled.
"I usually save that for last because I clip it for my brother in Fort Collins," Paul said. "What did I miss."
"Only that Danny managed to get the score and everything backwards on the Moorcroft game and wrote this big article about our big victory," Leah said before anyone else could.
"Oh yeah, I did read that. You're right... but... it didn't have any typos!" Paul said patronizingly.
"No, it didn't have any typos. God." Leah put her face in her hands.
"When are you going to fire that kid, Leah?" Rex asked.
"He's not for me to fire," Leah said.
"You're the editor," Rex countered.
"Acting editor. Acting," she replied.
"Acting... What the – since when?" Rex sputtered.
"Leah!" Tad whispered.
"Since last– OW!" Leah rubbed her shin where Tad had kicked her under the table.
"Talk to me about this after coffee," Tad said, sotto voce.
"What are you two whispering about?" Rex asked from the other side of Leah.
"Oh, nothing," Leah said, catching on and looking bewilderedly around at her friends.
"Just something I REMEMBER that Leah needs to TALK TO ME about," Tad stressed, fixing Leah with a look.
"Yeah, about that guy we were talking about the other day," Leah agreed.
"What, did you find yourself a hot date?" Gary asked. "What'll I tell my cousin?"
"Oh, tell him I got tired of being part of the harem," Leah said, relaxing. "He'll surely understand."
"So, who's the hot date, then?" Rex inquired.
"Uh, same as always," Leah stammered after a moment.
"That guy from Senator Enzi's office gonna be in town again?"
"No, no, just a phone date again. You understand," Leah winked.
"Ho ho HO... Yes, I do. Your secret's safe with me, schnookie. Just like that time I found you guys having phone sex out on your lawn. Oops! Did I say that out loud?" Rex chuckled as he looked around the room, then covered his face with his hands in mock dismay as he spoke.
Leah gritted her teeth and grinned through the ensuing laughter, which only Tad didn't share. Tad put one finger to his lips and gestured with his other hand that everything would be OK.
"A girl's got to get it where and how she can," Leah finally shrugged.
"Poor baby," Rex said, smoothing her hair. "You're not really upset, are you?"
"You can make it up to me sometime," Leah said.
"Another nice ad from that nutjob Garrett, I see," Gary said after a moment.
"Two of them, actually," Paul said, brandishing the paper. "One here about 'Ask Mr. Sherwood' and one about 'Jackboot Gonzales.'"
"No, there's a third, where he says 'Hose Ambrose!'" Leah pointed to the classified section. "Never mind that I've got two years left on my term before anyone gets to vote against me."
"Didn't exactly talk him out of throwing his money away, did you, Leah?" Paul teased. "No wonder Gunter likes you."
"Actually, Kim took that ad a couple of–OW!" Leah winced as a boot dug again into her shin.
"Who?"
"Danny took that ad a couple of weeks ago," Leah said, rubbing her leg and glaring slightly at Tad.
"So he's planning ahead now?" Gary asked.
"Who?" Leah's confusion was evident.
"Will Garrett is planning these ahead now?" Gary repeated.
"Yeah, I think he is. Last paper before the election, you know," Leah said.
"Oh, that's right! No wonder it's so fat," Mack said, taking it from Paul.
"You know, I was teasing Will about these the other day, and he swears he doesn't really know where they're coming from," Walt, silent until now, said thoughtfully.
"Will Garrett or Will Colson?" Tom asked his son-in-law.
"Garrett, of course. Don't you remember Colson took out that one ad when all of this started that all of his advertising would have his first AND last name?" Leah said.
"Oh, that's right, he did," Walt said. "But no, it was Colson I was talking to. BUT, he told me he'd talked to Garrett about it and Garrett said it wasn't him, either."
"But the ads showed up right after he got popped for a leash law violation while he and his dog were crossing the street," Gary said.
"He put in the first one, but the rest are coming from somewhere else, he says. Or Colson says he says. Right, Leah?" Walt continued.
"I don't have that much to do with ads, guys. I'm out of the office a lot," Leah explained, "Obviously..." she gestured around the room, taking in her friends, the tables, the coffee.
"But you're the editor, and doesn't the editor do most of the ads?" Gary looked genuinely puzzled.
"Well, yeah... But... I... I..."
"You got her there, Gary!" Rex said. "She's just messing with us again. It is, too, Garrett, isn't it? Don't shit a bunch of old shitters, schnookie."
"Wouldn't dream of it, schnookie," Leah fired back.
"So who was it bought all those ads?" Rex fired back at her.
"Um... C'mon, give me a break. Can I expect you to account for who bought every single hunk of hardware you've sold in the last few weeks?"
Rex's mouth fell open a moment before he found a reply. "No. But: A. You're what, 20 years younger than me? and B: I certainly remember the weird ones."
"Well, all of mine are weird ones," Leah said.
"Hey, wait a minute," Tad said. "I, I..."
"You resemble that remark!" Gary said.
"Well, he's definitely weird," Mack agreed with his cousin. "Look at this ad he took out. 'If you don't buy something, I'm laying myself off this week sale.' What the hell kind of ad is that?"
"One that works! Now I can tell who's actually reading the thing," Tad said proudly.
"Why not just run a coupon like everybody else?" Mack said.
"Takes people too much effort, and not enough people want what the coupon offers. Old hat. On the other hand," Tad said, holding a hand out towards Leah, who took it and shook it, "Everybody that sees something like that has to make a smart remark.
"So I have a very good idea of how many people pay attention to the ads." He finished.
"Hey, that's actually pretty smart," Gary said.
"I can't take credit for it," Tad said. "It was all Leah's idea."
"What?" Leah burst out.
"Shh, trying to do you a favor, honey," Tad said, patting her on the shoulder.
"Hah! Now I know how he gets the good ad placements!" Rex said, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion.
Leah's head snapped around to regard her friend. "What are you talking about, Wainwright?" she demanded. "You've had a lock on that big space on the back page for as long as I've been alive."
"Just making an observation," Rex said, looking innocently up at the ceiling. "You're leaping to conclusions. Leaping." He moved his hand to mimic a fish jumping out of the water. "I never said I didn't get good placements, I just said now I know how HE gets them."
It was Leah's jaw's turn to fall. "Well, OK."
"So hey," Walt said. "Why does Garrett want to Hose Ambrose?"
"Oh, he's still on about the leash law stuff and how it's a rotten town where you don't see a dog in front of the hardware store, blah blah blah," Leah said.
"There's a dog in front of the lumberyard," Paul said.
"Yeah, there is. But she's not telling you the whole story. He's picking on her because of that silly thing she wrote in the paper last year about the 'Dogs of Main Street' and how we all miss them so much," Gary crowed.
"How can we miss them when they're still there? Well, except for poor old Bernie at the barber shop – and he died of plain old age last May!" Leah said hotly.
"Keyboard, keyboard," Rex grinned, pointing toward Leah. "Look at that keyboard!"
"Lots of space between the buttons," Tad agreed, peering toward Leah's chest. "But I only see two buttons."
"Shit, Tad, now she's closing her shirt. You've got a lot to learn about Leah-baiting," Rex shook a disappointed finger Tad's way.
"Betcha don't do that when Kevin's here!" Tad shook a finger back at Rex.
"Are you kidding? Kevin usually starts it!" Gary said.
"Jesus, what did you guys talk about before I started coming here?" Leah said, sitting up straighter and squaring her shoulders.
"Deirdre's cleavage, mostly," Rex said. "But she kicks harder than you do."
"She never kicked me," Walt said.
"Nor me," Tom said.
"I don't recall her kicking anybody," Gary said. "Nor Leah, for that matter."
"Just a figure of speech," Rex plead.
"Maybe I should start," Leah said.
"I bet she kicks in–OW!" Rex said, reaching down to rub his shin. To his surprise, Leah did the same.
"Tad, you got me, too, dammit. Nice try, though," she said to Tad.
"All right, kiddies, that's enough. Listen up. One to 1000."
"511," Tom said.
"Tom, honey, you've got to watch it. You always pick that number. One of these days it's going to be IT," Leah cautioned.
"But not today. 511 to 1000," Gary said to Walt.
"611," Walt grinned.
"611 to 1000," Gary said to Mack.
"711."
"611 to 711, Tad."
"Oh, goodie. I think 666," Tad said with a giggle.
"Nice number, but it's not it. 666 to 711, Leah."
Grinning wickedly at Rex, Leah said "7-0-9."
"Dammit, schnookie, one of these days–" Rex began, but Gary interrupted him.
"666 to 709, Wainwright."
"Oh. 704," Rex said.
"666 to 704," Gary said.
"Oh... how about 680," Paul said.
Gary sighed. "OK, 680 to 704, Walt."
"689."
"689 to 704."
"Was that 700?" Tom asked.
"704," Gary said patiently.
"700?" Tom said, a little hesitantly.
"No, 689 to 704."
"Yeah. 700," Tom said a little more decisively.
"Oh, you mean you're picking 700?" Gary asked.
"Yes. 700."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"That's a winner," Gary said. "Give me a letter."
"Oh, how about... X."
Gary named off the letters from Tom's left. "Y, Z, A, that's you, Tad."
"Oh, I knew I was bound to win something today," Tad said with mock glee, throwing down his tip and getting out of his chair. "Suzie, what's my damage?"
As the rest filed out for the day, Leah hung behind a moment.
"Tad?" she said as Tad got his change back from the waitress and said good bye to Tom and Walt.
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Have you got a moment?"
"For you, always, my love," Tad said, sitting back down and pouring himself the dregs from the nearest carafe.
"Do... do those guys think I'm the editor now?" Leah asked, sitting next to him.
"Well, there you are on the masthead thingie," Tad began.
"No, I mean, since before Kim–"
"Oh! So you at least still remember Kim."
"Well, of course. I worked for the guy for a couple years, how could I not?"
"Well, no one else does, if you haven't noticed."
"Actually, yeah, I have, but I really thought it was everyone just funning with me. Long tradition of that sort of thing, especially with this crew. Did they ever tell you about the time they turned Matt MacArthur's corral into the 'New MacArthur Landfill?'"
"No. Sounds like a good story. But I really don't think they're pulling your leg. Hey, Suzie, have you got last week's paper anywhere around? Thanks, hon."
"Why do you want last week's paper?" Leah asked.
"I have a suspicion," Tad said. "Do you save your notes or anything like that?"
"We have a file where we're supposed to stuff 'em for each week, but that's so behind the times. I usually just plug my laptop into the printer and print them out when I get time on Wednesdays or Thursdays. I take all my notes on my laptop. Why?"
"Still got your notes from when you talked to the coroner?"
"Yeah, fat lot of good they do me. I probably couldn't even get that stuff into the Weekly World News."
"Make sure you still have them. That's probably why you still remember. Ah, here we go. Look at this, Leah my dear. Notice anything weird?"
"Just last week's paper."
"How many stories did you have on Page One?"
"Just the thing about that whacko gubernatorial candidate and the teasers for inside. It was a big article, a big deal, having that guy, and what with Kim dying and all– Oh my god, I see what you mean!"
"Where's the other page one story? The one about your editor dying?"
"What the– Suzie? Is this the same paper we've had laying around all week?"
"Yeah. I was getting ready to throw it out, since there's a new one and all."
"Look at the editorial page, too, Leah," Tad said.
"Holy shit. It says I'm the editor. Man, I left that alone out of respect for Kim!"
"There is definitely something funny going on here, little girl," Tad said.
"I wonder if Danny did this?"
"Did Danny make that whole Page One story go away, too? AFTER it was printed and distributed?"
"Holy shit," Leah said again. "I gotta go see if the other papers are like this."
"Check your laptop, too. Make sure your notes and stuff are still in there. Anyone else ever use it?"
"No. Sometimes I plug it into the paper's LAN to share files with the boys, but..."
"LAN?"
"Local Area Network. Let's us swap files and stuff. Like making all of our computers into one big one."
"Ooh, don't connect it. Something could happen to your notes, couldn't it?"
"Well, it would be a long shot, but..." Leah thought for a moment. "I see what you mean. Talk about long shots."
"Pretty long shot," Tad nodded.
"Hey... How come you remember him and none of the other guys do?" Leah said, gesturing around the empty chairs.
"Well, I only talked to Kim on the phone once, but I never really met him in person, so there's not much for me to forget."
"That... that makes no sense at all... But none of this does. Tell you what, I'm going to go check the leftover copies of last week's paper back in the office and the morgue–"
"Morgue?"
"Where we store back issues of the paper," Leah explained. "I'm going to go check those, and maybe talk to Danny a little bit and see where his head is at. Can I call you later about all this?"
"Anytime."
"Cool. I'll, uh... I'll see you later."

TUESDAY III - October 30

"Jeeze, I've been busier than a one-armed paper hanger," Tad said, walking into the cantina. "What have I missed."
"Oh, nothing really," Gary said.
"Anybody else in that haunted house tomorrow night?" Tad asked eagerly.
"Hell no," Gary said.
"Even I got out of it this year," Rex chuckled.
"Oh, I wound up helping Ellen haul some stuff," Kevin said ruefully, "And she asked if I didn't want to help scare some children, but I said no, I really didn't."
"What a mean dad you are!" Deirdre accused. "What if she really needed you?"
"She didn't 'really need me,' she just asked," Kevin said. "And I gave her my honest answer."
"Damn straight," Gary said. "Time those girls started picking on someone their own age."
"From what I can put together there isn't anyone their age here," Tad said.
"Not my problem, not my fault," Gary said, setting his mouth firmly. "I had kids and they just didn't choose to live here."
"So what's the latest on the dead guy?" Tad said, sensing a coming taboo subject.
"Which one?" Paul asked. "We got two up on the funeral board at the church."
"They're having Huffnagle's funeral at your church?" Tad asked, frowning.
"Huffnagle... no. Old Reggie Weems and Mabel Vasey died up at the nursing home over the weekend. Damned shame, too. I hear the same little girl found both of them," Paul said.
"What about Huffnagle?" Tad asked.
"Who?"
"The newspaper guy."
"Danny? He's fine. I just saw him this morning. He forgot to pick up my ad again. Why Leah didn't fire that knucklehead years ago I'll never know," Gary said.
"Too soft-hearted," Rex said.
"No, no, I'm talking about the other – never mind. I'll ask Leah later," Tad backed down.
"You know, that guy has the most beautiful girlfriend I've ever seen," Caleb said. "You really got to wonder what she's doing with that guy."
"Maybe he's her dealer," Kevin said.
"Hadn't thought of that," Caleb said.
"What guy are we talking about now?" Walt asked.
"Danny Zabrowskie. That dumbass kid that works for Leah over at the paper," Caleb said.
"Oh, him. Why'd she hire him, anyway?" Walt mused.
"I think he had a really good resume," Kevin said. "If I recall correctly. And he interviewed pretty well."
"Wouldn't it have been the editor that hired him?" Tad asked, still puzzled.
"Leah is the editor," Kevin said. "Has been for, oh, quite a while now. We're very proud, Marion and me. One girl running the paper, the other running the chamber."
"Hey, yeah, are they twins?" Tad asked.
"A lot of people think so, but actually Ellen is three years older," Kevin said.
"But anyway... how long has Leah been the editor of the paper, Kevin?" Tad resumed.
"Oh, a couple years now. She moved back from Chicago to take the job in... Let's see... was it '99?..."
"Done an okay job, too," Gary said. "Even if she does goober up my ads sometimes."
Tad frowned at all of this, but said nothing as his attention was quickly diverted by the entrance of a giant brown dog and a much smaller brown man.
"Well, Roger, look at you! got some sun, didn't you?" Gary asked as the lumber yard manager sat down.
"Yes, yes I did. Got engaged, too, as a matter of fact," Roger beamed.
"You didn't!" Rex said. "I thought Lily had more sense than that!"
"Wore her down," Rex said. "And plunked down some pretty serious money on a rock. Persuasive things, those rocks."
"How did you propose? I love this shit," Deirdre demanded, hanging up her coat.
"Nothing fancy, just asked her at dinner the last night of our vacation. We'd talked about it a little before, after all."
"Did you set a date?" Deirdre asked, sitting down.
"No, not yet."
"Did you tell Leah so she can get it in the paper?"
"No, not yet. It just happened, jeeze!"
"Well, congratulations!"
"Thank you," Roger nodded and waved at Suzie. "Hey, can I get some toast?"
"Yeah! A toast!" Deirdre snickered, raising her coffee cup. The others followed suit.
"Another idiot bites the dust," Gary said. "What do you want to go and do that for?"
"I did it before, if you recall, and I kind of liked it," Roger shrugged.
"Well, I at least hope she likes your dog," Gary said, petting Mark absently.
"Does she ever!" Deirdre enthused. "Got a chocolate lab puppy herself a few months ago, didn't she? Oh god, there's going to be two of them in the same house!"
"And the same neighborhood," Gary said. "Old Miss Kelley had better really watch her chickens now!"
"It was only one time, and it was only one chicken, now!" Roger shook his finger at Gary. "And it could have been my neighbor's lab. We don't know it was Mark."
"Weren't there bloody feathers found in Mark's doghouse that evening?" Kevin asked, his eyes narrowed.
"Could have been a pillow," Roger said, somewhat defensively.
"A pillow!" Rex snorted. "That's good, Roger. A pillow!"
"Well, anyway, Mark much prefers toast, right Roger?" Deirdre said, reaching over to pet the dog herself.
"So ANYWAY," Roger tried to change the subject. "Everyone figured out who they're voting for next Tuesday?"
"Like you even have to ask," Gary said with disgust.
"Yeah, it's easy. We vote in Sammy Asher so he can fire the football coach, we write in Buford so he can fire the police chief," Rex enumerated on his fingers, "Who we missing."
"Freudenthal so he can fire the Director of Corrections," Deirdre added.
"Freudenthal so he can fire Uphoff," Rex nodded. "And let's see, is Leah up for re-election, Kevin?"
"No, she's got two more years on her term."
"Oh good, so let's write her in for Congress!" Rex said gleefully.
"You know, one of these days she's going to hand you your ass on a plate," Deirdre said.
"She's got to find my ass first, and she always says I haven't got one," Rex said.
"Oh, you're not that skinny," Deirdre snorted.
"In all seriousness, though," Roger said. "What about the mayoral election. Do we keep Sherwood or what?"
"Well, the only difference I can see between Sherwood and that Colson character is that Sherwood occasionally thinks for himself, while Colson doesn't even try to think without Millie and Gonzales telling him what to do."
"That's not entirely true," Kevin said. "He voted against hiring that one kid the Gonzales wanted to put on the force."
"Only because the other guy up for consideration was his own nephew," Rex said.
"Grand nephew," Gary said.
"Same thing," Rex said.
"Basically."
"I didn't know that kid was his nephew," Kevin said. "Hmm."
"Yeah, but isn't Colson related to like half the town?" Deirdre asked.
"So aren't we all," Caleb said. "You're even related to a good bunch of it."
"Only by marriage," Deirdre said.
"Yeah, but when your sister married Roger's brother you became part of the biggest clan in the valley," Caleb said.
"Only by marriage," Deirdre repeated.
"I think that kid was Colson's grand nephew by marriage," Rex said, thinking back. "Family harmony is family harmony," he shrugged.
"True," Deirdre said.
"Anyway, Leah asked me to please vote for Sherwood again, and that's good enough for me," Rex said. "She's the one who has to deal with them all. I just deal with the planning commission."
"Say, yeah, that reminds me – when do I get my sign permit?" Tad asked.
"What sign permit?" Rex asked back.
"The one I applied for before I even moved here. I'm doing these really pretty signs for the grocery store. They light up and everything, so that parking lot won't be so dark anymore."
"First I've heard about it," Rex admitted.
"Must still be on the zoning officer's desk along with Mack's protest of Jim Morris's setback variance," Gary groused.
"Maybe so. I'll look into it," Rex said.
"I'd appreciate it. I've already spent a bit on the designs and stuff," Tad said.
"Don't hold your breath," Gary said.
Tad inhaled and puffed out his cheeks, then let it go with a laugh.
"Whatever. All right, listen up, you clowns –" Gary began.

MONDAY III - October 29

"Looks like my former editor isn't the only one who's dickless," Leah grumbled quietly as she walked into the cantina.
"What's the matter?" Rex asked, pulling out a chair for her.
"Just got off the phone with Gunter and he told me if I want to keep my job I won't run the story of what Bruno found when he autopsied Kim," she replied quietly.
"What's that?" Gary asked from across the tables.
"Oh, nothing," Leah said, giving Rex and her father warning looks.
"What are you going to do?" Rex asked her.
"I don't know, I've got a whole paper to get out and there's a school board meeting tonight to cover and... it's not like it's a slow news week or anything."
"Well, just hang on. Have you talked to Paul about it?"
"No. Figured maybe I'd catch him here when we're done," Leah shrugged.
"Did Gunter say why he didn't want you to run your story?" Rex asked.
"Oh, I don't want to get into it now. He thinks it's too weird, basically."
"What's weird?" Gary demanded.
"Yeah, you two quit whispering over there," Deirdre demanded. "Share it with the class."
"It's nothing," Leah said. "Just newspaper bullshit."
"Over what?" Walt asked.
"My dead editor," she said shortly.
"Your editor died?"
"Oh god, here we go again. Walt, you remember last week when there was a rumor going around that Deirdre's dad had a heart attack?"
"Oh yeah, but he didn't, did he?" Walt asked Deirdre.
"No, it turned out to be some other guy we've never heard of," Deirdre said.
Leah looked pleadingly at Rex and Tad and her father.
"You've heard of him," Leah said quietly. "He was my boss."
"What, the cigar chomper?" Deirdre said incredulously. "He bought the farm?"
"Yes, yes he did," Leah said, growing irritable.
"Wow, no wonder you look so beat. You've been running the paper with just Danny!" Deirdre said. "Bet that's a blast."
"Oh yeah," Leah agreed. "Wakes up every morning to a brand new world, that guy..."
"Does he smoke pot?" Kevin, ever the retired cop, asked.
"Oh, I don't know what he does in his free time, but I guess it wouldn't surprise me," Leah said. "Mostly I think he just hung out with Kim."
"Kim who?" Kevin asked.
Leah sighed. "My editor. Former editor. Deceased editor. The dead guy."
"Do they think Danny had anything to do with this guy dying?" Walt asked.
"He found the body, is all. Still no cause of death, not really," Leah sighed.
"Can you imagine what that must have been like?" Rex guffawed. "Wonder how long it took for him to figure out he had a dead body on his hands."
"Yeah," Kevin said, laughing along, "He probably thought the guy was just really stoned. Silly little fucker."
"He had a birthday coming, you know," Paul piped up.
"Who, Danny?" Leah asked. "Do you know when?"
"No, the other guy...Kim?... Yeah, Kim. He was born on Halloween."
"God, that's right, he was!" Leah said. "But how did you know that, Paulie?"
"Oh, he dropped his driver's license once at a chamber social last year. Couldn't help but notice a birthday like that. Well, especially since I'm nosy anyway. Used to be nosy for a living," he chortled. "And I couldn't help but notice you didn't get an obituary written last week, so I thought I'd lend you a hand and I pulled out my old notes."
Leah sighed. "Well, thanks Paul... Good luck on that. I couldn't find a thing."
"Born on Halloween, huh? Say, that reminds me, Leah, when are you planning on suckering us into being in that haunted house Ellen puts on?" Rex nudged his friend.
"She told me yesterday that she's got a full cast lined up and she's all set," Leah shrugged. "Says she doesn't even need me."
"She says that every year," Rex snorted.
"Hey, I'm just telling you what she told me. Want a different answer, maybe ask her yourself," Leah said. "Born on Halloween... born on Halloween... Oh, that's funny. Do you remember what year, Paul?"
"Nope, I don't, but you can probably find out from Bruno."
"Good point," Leah said.
"Whatcha thinking, Leah?" Deirdre asked. "Think it's a prank or something?"
"Oh, I'll tell you if it comes to anything," Leah smiled. "It's probably nothing."
"Hey, did anybody hear how the kids did in Moorcroft Friday?" Caleb asked, strolling in.
"They lost, 24-8," Gary said. "But personally I think they got robbed. Eddie caught a pass in the endzone in the fourth and the refs were nowhere near enough to see it but they ruled him out of bounds."
"So, but they still would have lost then," Paul pointed out. "Even if they'd scored and got another two-point conversion – when, oh when, are they going to train themselves a kicker? – it'd still have been 24-16."
"You don't know what that did to their momentum," Gary said, folding his arms. "You weren't there."
"In the fourth quarter? How much momentum could they have?"
"Aw, quit needling poor Gary," Deirdre said.
"Yeah, he'll start in on the coaches soon and we already heard plenty of that this morning down the street," Walt agreed.
"From who?" Caleb asked.
"It was after you left, Caleb. Sammy Asher came in on a rampage because his son got taken out of the game again. You didn't miss much," Walt rolled his eyes.
"Oh, you talking about early this morning at the gas station?" Gary asked.
"Yeah."
"How you guys can stand that Asher I'll never know," Gary said.
"Well, we don't have to stand him often. He's usually not up that early," Walt said.
"Only after football travesties," Leah agreed.
"When did you start going to that one?" Rex asked. "I always thought you weren't a morning person."
"Sometimes I just can't sleep and there's no point in trying, so I join my dad and Walt and Sammy and whoever else is at the gas station. Mack's usually there, too, and he tells stories there instead of just sitting there grousing like he does here. Sometimes it's even worth the sleep deprivation," Leah said.
"Hey, so you'd know then – is Asher really running for school board?" Rex asked.
Kevin sighed. "Just so he can get the coach fired."
"Oh great. Another one." Rex sighed back.
"Hey guys," Leah said, looking at her watch. "I don't suppose the paper is going to lay itself out, so I'd better think about taking off."
"Right-o," Gary said, pulling out a pen and paper.
"Wow, look at this!" Paul said, putting his own notepad away. "Gary's got paper of his own!"
"Yes! It's a first!" Gary rolled his eyes. "All right, listen up, one to 1000..."

FRIDAY II - October 26

"So, anyone know anything yet, honey?" Rex said, rubbing his hands together gleefully as he took a seat between Leah and her father.
"Well... I'm still trying to figure out some stuff that Bruno said yesterday, to be honest," Leah replied. "He's an odd duck anyway, and this... well, give me a bit, okay?"
"Hmm," Rex said, narrowing his eyes. "Not what I was expecting outta you, Mizz Ambrose. So hey, where is everybody today?"
"I dunno, it's Friday," Kevin said, shrugging. "Football team's way up north, so I suppose Gary's watching his grandson play, and I think Matt was thinking about going, and you know Lee's there... No accounting for Walt and Tom..."
"I think Deirdre's off visiting her sister or something," Leah said, nodding.
"Hoo-ah, but I guess Roger's here!" Kevin said as Maker's Mark bounded into the room and knocked over a chair. "Whoa!"
"Where've you been, old man?" Leah said cordially, patting the dog as Roger came into view.
"Oh, here and there. As usual, I miss all the fun. Fill me in!" Roger replied, settling in. "I heard Deirdre's dad had a heart attack. How's he doing?"
"Here we go again," Kevin rolled his eyes.
"Dee's dad is fine; it's the newspaper guy who croaked," Rex explained. "There was just a mix-up with the names or something."
"Oh really? What's the mix-up? Danny Zabrowskie... Kim McGonagle... Hey, wasn't Zabrowskie a little young for a heart attack?"
"No, the other newspaper guy. What was his name, Leah?"
"Very funny," Leah said, refilling her cup.
"No, seriously. I know it's stupid, but I really can't remember his name," Rex insisted.
"Puddin' Tame," Leah said derisively.
"Huffnagle, Huffnagle, Huffnagle!" Tad trumpeted from the doorway. "See, I remember!"
"Oh yeah," Rex said. Then, to Roger, "Kim Huffnagle's the one died while you were gone. Zabrowskie's the one who found him. Just dropped dead in the office, right Leah?"
"Yeah," Leah said, chewing on her lip. "That's the story..."
"You guys were having trouble remembering his name again, weren't you?" Tad said, sitting down with a concerned look. "That's just weird."
"Oh..." Leah murmured. "It gets weirder..."
"Leah's selling newspapers, don't mind her," Rex teased.
"Hmm? Oh, sure," Leah said absently. "Gotta wait for the next edition just like everybody else. I'm probably going to get in trouble for sending Danny to the football game, but man, I just didn't feel like riding a schoolbus all the way up to Moorcroft today. They left at what, 3 a.m., Dad?"
"Something like that," Kevin nodded. "Poor little shits. I bet it was cold."
"Isn't this their playoff for state or something?" Tad asked.
"Yup," Leah said.
"So why you going to get in trouble for sending Danny?"
"Have you met Danny yet?" Rex asked, a little incredulous.
"Bit of a meatball," Kevin said.
"But he's a better photographer than me," Leah said. "And the pictures are what count."
"Don't let Paul catch you saying that," Rex said.
"Actually, he's the one who taught me that," Leah replied. "'People who read the sports pages only look at the pictures, just remember that, Leah.'"
"Cynical!" Tad said.
"True!" Rex said.
"Irrelevant!" Leah said. "Look, can I tell you guys something in confidence? I mean, since hardly anyone's here today and I feel like I can trust you all..."
"What is it, honey?" her dad said, frowning. "Something wrong at town hall again?"
"No, no, that's fine, we even got that legal ad for the airport board straightened out, I think. It's just, well... Bruno had some weird things to tell me yesterday morning," she said.
"Oh yeah, I remember you ran off to see him," Rex said.
"Who's Bruno?" Tad asked. "Have I met him?"
"Oh, I doubt you have, Tad," Kevin said. "He's our county coroner, lives up in Loose Cannon. Kind of a recluse, odd guy really..."
"Seems like this place breeds 'em, those recluses," Tad said.
"Yeah, it does, it does... So what did he have to say?" Kevin asked his daughter.
"First promise me none of you will blab about this until I've figured out what to put in the paper," Leah said seriously.
"Sure, honey," Kevin said. Rex and Tad nodded assent.
"Bruno is way wigged out," Leah said. "First off, he keeps forgetting the body is in his freezer..."
"That doesn't sound like Bruno at all. Is he okay?" Kevin asked.
"Seems all right," Leah said. "I don't think there's anything wrong with him that isn't wrong with a lot of people... anyway, the forgetting isn't the big thing. Guys, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to tell you: my former editor was funny."
"Funny strange or funny ha-ha?" Tad asked.
"Definitely funny strange," Rex said. "I don't remember him having any sense of humor at all."
"Funny as in... no navel... and no sex organs... and no hair," Leah said.
"He did too have hair. Big messy mop of it, I remember that much," Kevin said. "It was always sticking out from under that hat of his kinda funny."
"His beard, his eyebrows, the hair on his head, even his nose hair... deer hair and spirit gum," Leah insisted. "And did I mention no navel and no sex organs?"
"I knew I guy had a condition like that once," Rex said. "He made himself eyebrows out of clippings from the barber shop. There's a name for it... I'll think of it..."
"Allopecia," Leah said. "But did you hear me about the rest?"
"More than the hair?" Kevin asked.
"Bruno would not freak out over a guy's having no hair. The man had no navel and no sex organs. Not like they'd been cut off or anything, either. He's like a kewpie doll down there, Bruno said."
The small group stared at each other silently for a moment.
"Hah, when my brother called him a dickless wonder I guess he wasn't too far off the mark," Rex finally said. His friends laughed at that.
"So what are you saying, Leah?" Tad asked.
"I'm saying... this guy really wasn't normal. There's something weird about his skeleton, too, I guess, but I don't remember what," Leah said.
No one said anything for a moment, thinking, until Rex barked out laughing some more. "Leah, you got us good on that one!"
"What do you mean?" Leah asked.
"What do you think I mean?" Rex said. "That was a good one. You really had me going for a minute."
"I'm serious as a heart attack, Rex. Honest."
"What are you serious about, schnookie?"
"Everything I've been telling you," Leah said.
"About what?"
"Huh?"
"What have you been telling us about?"
"She wasn't, you were," Kevin said. "About some guy with allopecia."
"I was? Oh, yeah. I didn't really know him that well or anything. Kind of kept to himself. Nice kid, though."
"No, weren't we talking about something else?" Tad asked. "Some dead guy."
"Dead guy?" Leah said. "Dead guy... Oh, yeah we were. My boss that died."
"They got a cause of death yet?" Kevin asked.
"No, I'm waiting to hear back from Bruno," she replied.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute..." Tad cut in. "This is getting too weird. You were just telling us what Bruno told you, Leah. He was freaked out about something about the body."
"Oh yeah. He keeps forgetting it's there," Leah said.
"How does a coroner forget a body?" Rex said skeptically. "That's wild even for one of your tall tales."
"No, he does, he told me... He was in my office yesterday... Guys, is it just me or is there some heavy deja vu going on right now?"
"It's just you," Rex said.
"No, it's me too," Tad said seriously. "I feel like we already had this conversation."
"Oh, that's just the coffee hour in Big Fittings," Rex said dismissively. "Keep doing this for enough years and you're bound to wind up repeating conversations."
"No, I mean like this morning. About this guy, this newspaper guy with no hair that we somehow keep forgetting we're talking about," Tad said.
"Now that you mention it, this is feeling a little weird," Kevin said.
"Yeah it is. Oh, did I tell you the guy had no sex organs, either?" Leah asked her friends.
"Oh shit, you're right. You did tell us, Leah. And I said my brother had called him dickless the other day... All right, yes, this is officially weird."
"Why do we keep forgetting?" Kevin asked.
"I don't know, Dad. It's like the other day when we were all sitting here and you couldn't even remember that we'd all been to happy hour with Huffnagle," Leah said. "And none of you could recall meeting him or anything."
"Meeting who?" Rex asked.
"Rex! Really?" Leah asked, her eyes wide.
"Just kidding," Rex said. "Look, this isn't so weird. Some people just aren't very interesting, so it's no wonder if you don't remember meeting them. Not like Tad here. And didn't you always say, Leah, that he never came out of that office of his except to get more matches?"
"So you're just saying this guy was so boring that just a few days after he drops dead in his office it's no big thing that we can't even remember that we're talking about him? I don't buy it," Tad said.
"Neither do I," Kevin agreed.
"Well, I didn't say I was selling it," Rex said. "But now that I mention it, I do have a living to go make, and it's about ten of, so what's say I run the numbers. Since there's just four of us, I'll just do it once, one to 100..."

THURSDAY II - October 25

"So," Tad said, stomping snow off his boots and casting about for another chair as he surveyed the full house for coffee, "I assume you guys have the scoop on the dead guy, right?"
"No," Gary groused, glowering at Leah. "We don't know anything more than what was in the paper."
"Hey, I don't know anything more than that, either. Bruno isn't returning phone calls right now, we still can't find any friends or next of kin, and Gonzales took his guy off the case because it was his turn to go hunting, or something," Leah retorted. "I'm not keeping anything from anybody. Keeping things from people isn't my business."
"Yeah, blabbing is," Rex giggled beside her.
"God knows where she gets that," Kevin said on his other side, shaking his head.
"So he's just a mysterious dead guy in the newspaper office, huh?" Tad said, pushing his chair between Rex and Kevin.
"Not so mysterious, he was the editor," Lee cut in. "Though actually, did anyone ever meet him? My wife and I were talking about that last night. Neither of us ever met him, and I bet we couldn't have picked him out in a crowd, either. Sure as hell not from that photograph of himself he always put on his columns. Looks like it was from the Eisenhower years or something."
"I never met him. I think I talked on the phone with him once, maybe..." Gary trailed off.
"Yeah, I think I spoke with him on the phone a coupla times," Walt said.
"Not me," Tom said.
"I think I met him once, but I don't really remember anything about it," Paul said. "Let's see... what was it all about...?"
"I met him at the chamber banquet last year, I think," Rex mused. "Didn't have much to say, and I thought that was odd for an old newspaper guy. Of course, the only old newspaper guy I've ever known is Paul, so what do I know?" he grinned.
"It wasn't about photos, was it...?" Paul continued to himself.
"Never had any occasion to meet him, and that suited me just fine," Matt said. "I had my fill of dealing with the press back when I worked for a living."
"Ever notice how he never really said anything in those columns of his?" Deirdre said. "Leah could always be counted on to either piss someone off or confuse the hell out of somebody, Danny pretty much just gets everything wrong, but Huffnagle... Huffnagle... you'd read it three or four times and still not see where he'd taken a stand or anything at all. Just a lot of words..."
"Was I in there to correct an obituary?" Paul asked himself quietly.
"You know, I'm not even sure I even met him," Kevin said, surprised. "That's weird. My daughter worked for him." He looked over at Leah, puzzled.
Leah shook her head as if to clear it. "Dad, we went to happy hour together every once in a while, right here, on a few Fridays when I first started at the paper. Don't you remember? He told you that story about... what was it about? I remember that you... OK, I don't remember if you believed it or not, but he... Well, shit, I know we went to happy hour," she finished lamely.
"Well, this is interesting," Tad said, looking at everyone. "Did this guy really exist, or did Leah make him up?"
"Naw, when Leah makes something up, we remember it," Kevin said. "Like that wild-ass story she told about that rock in first grade..."
"Hush!" Leah interrupted her father. "But he's got a point; I make up much more interesting bullshit than that. I come by it honestly."
"Doesn't it seem a little weird to you guys to have a newspaper editor that none of you knew, that never pissed any of you off, never got drunk at a public function or raised hell at a meeting or anything? In a town this small?" Tad asked.
"Well, of course it does," Gary said. "But... it's no weirder than anything else that goes on around here."
"I wouldn't call it weird so much," Rex began. "It's maybe weird how un-weird he was, I'd say. Especially after that last coupla guys... oh, and that one girl, what was her name, the one Gary said was a commie..."
"Gary thinks every reporter's a commie," Lee said.
"Gary thinks every person is a commie," Paul countered.
"Now, that's not entirely true. I never thought Richard Nixon was a commie. And I never once said that Al Simpson was a commie," Gary said.
"What about John Birch?" Leah teased.
"Who?"
"Never mind – OW!" Leah said, as Rex pinched her.
"So, back to this editor guy..." Tad prodded.
"Who?"
"The dead guy," Tad said, his face growing more puzzled.
"Oh, him. Well, he never gave any real evidence now that I think about it, but he was a newspaperman so he was probably a commie," Gary replied.
"Hey!" Paul and Leah said in unison.
"Oh, uh, present company excepted. Of course, you're just 'Democrats'" Gary drew skeptical quotation marks in the air.
"Hey!" Leah said alone.
"Oh yeah, and a Libertarian," Gary sneered.
"Thank you," Leah said as a familiar eletronic whine interrupted her. Seven people patted their hip pockets, checking their phones as Gary scowled his continuing hatred of cell phones. It was Leah's phone.
"Speak," she said. "Oh, what now, Danny? Aren't you supposed to be down in Warm Springs at the basketball tournament?... Oh yeah, that's tomorrow. Sorry.... So, what's up?... Bruno?... Bruno Brown?... Huh! Yeah, that's the guy... Wait, he's where?... Oh, wow... OK... OK... I'll be right there." Leah flipped her phone closed. "Guys, Bruno Brown's waiting for me at the paper office. He's been listening to Danny's blather about that nut in Warm Springs who thinks Dick Cheney is personally responsible for his not getting a permit for a concealed carry. He's sure to chew his own leg off any minute. I'm sorry, but I gotta break the rules, unless you want to run the numbers right now."
"It's what, 10:35?" Walt said. "Pretty early... we can always let Rex guess for you and let you know later if you won."
"I saw what you guys did to Paul last time," Leah said, getting up. "So, should I just pay right now?"
"What do you mean 'you guys?' You were part of it, too," Gary chided.
"Anyway, run the numbers or not, but please, don't let Rex guess for me. I don't trust him," Leah chucked her friend on the shoulder.
"Actually," Rex said, getting up, "I probably ought to get back to the store. Ted is in Las Vegas with Doc Upmann and Zed is hunting, so I've got poor Carol holding down the fort today. Run 'em, Kanebrane."
"All right, listen up, One to 1000," Gary said, grabbing a pen and paper.
"You haven't picked the number yet!" Walt protested.
"I knew you'd whine about that, and it gave me just enough time to pick a number," Gary replied. "So pick one."
"Um... 500," Walt said.
Gary sighed. "One to 500, Tom."
"450," Tom said.
"450 to 500, Lee."
"Oh, how about... no... How about..." Lee looked up toward the ceiling, as if to find his number there.
"Come on, Meyer, Leah's got the coroner waiting," Gary said impatiently.
"460," Lee said at last.
"460 to 500."
"Aw, hell... 475," Kevin said.
"475 to 500."
"480," Tad said, leaning back with a smile.
"480 to 500," Gary intoned.
"Hey, I'm getting better at this," Tad said.
"Hush! 480 to 500, Rex."
"482," Rex said, leaning towards Leah avidly.
"482 to 500," Gary said, chuckling.
"Damn! Thought I had her," Rex said.
"490," Leah said, shooting Rex a stern look as he put a companionable arm around her.
"490 to 500 to you, Paul."
"492," Paul said.
"492 to 500," Gary sighed.
"Jesus. 499" Deirdre blurted out.
"That's a winner," Gary said. "Pick me a letter."
"Aw, damn. 'D' for damn," Deirdre said.
Gary rattled off the letters from 'D' to the winner, which landed again on Deirdre.
"You should have gone to Vegas with Rex's brother," Gary grinned. "Pick again."
"F." Deirdre said.
"G. I'll buy," Gary said, pointing to himself.
"Hah!" Deirdre said. "Takes some of the sting out of it!"
"OK, guys, I'll see you later. Bye, dad. Have mom call me after lunch, would you?" Leah dashed out the door.
"Hey, wait, Leah, I had a question for you!" Rex followed close on her heels.
"Bye..." Gary waved as the door thudded shut behind them.
"Wonder what the coroner wants," Lee said.
"He's probably going to tell her the body's missing or something," Tad giggled. "Or he's an alien."
"Or he's Elvis," Walt piped up.
"Or Batboy," Lee said.
"No, you guys would all remember something about him if he was Batboy or Elvis. But clearly he had the power to wipe your memories, so clearly he's an alien," Tad said, smiling.
"Oh yes. Clearly," Gary said, glaring across the tables at their new friend.
"Oh yeah, let's trust the new guy," Lee said.
"Yeah, the guy who sells the National Enquirer," Deirdre cackled.
"I do what I can," Tad agreed.
"Oh God, I can see the headlines now. 'Newspaper guy' – what was his name again? – 'found to be an alien'"
"Film at ten," Gary added.
"They don't say 'film at ten' in a newspaper, Gary," Paul said, shaking his head.
"Oh, you don't think something like that would be on TV?" Gary retorted hotly.
"It sure would be down in Colorado, but I know, I know, you don't care about how we did things where I came from," Tad said.
"Leah briefed you pretty good," Walt observed.
"Yes," Tad said, darting his eyes side to side and grinning evilly, "Leah."
"Well, I suppose I'll go find something constructive to do," Kevin said, rising.
"You do that," Gary said. "Nice to see ya, Kev."
"Glad you got to see me," Kevin said, waving.
The rest of the group soon followed suit.

WEDNESDAY - October 24

"So, where's the paper?" Mack said irritably as he strode into the bar. "I didn't have one in my mailbox."
"Neither did I," Gary said. "She must not have been able to get it done."
"Who wasn't able to get what done?" Mack asked.
"You must have been hunting," Walt said.
"Well, yeah, just got back last night. Nice six point buck... Why, what did I miss?"
"Kim Huffnagle is dead," Gary said simply.
"Holy Christ, how did that happen?"
"Leah said Danny just found the guy slumped over his desk Monday morning," Walt said.
"What was Danny doing at Kim's house? I wouldn't let that dingaling within a mile of my place," Mack said, helping himself to coffee and signaling to Suzie for toast.
"Wasn't at his house, it was at the newspaper office. Hey, did he even have a house? Where'd he live, anyway?" Walt asked.
"I don't know," Gary said.
"Why would Kim be at the newspaper office on a Monday morning? I thought he and Matt went elk hunting," Mack said, confused. "And by the way, what has this got to do with me not having a newspaper today?"
"Oh, oh, oh – he thinks we mean Kim McGonagle," Tom mused, shaking his finger and taking a sip.
"There's another Kim?" Mack said, frowning.
"Kim McGonagle has the huge house full of dead animals south of town. Kim Huffnagle was the editor of the Reader," Gary explained slowly. "It's the newspaper guy who died."
"Oh. So just because he croaked we don't get a paper?" Mack groused. "Damn, this coffee tastes funny this morning. Soapy."
"Suzie, I thought you yanked the carafe that didn't get rinsed," Gary roared into the kitchen. "We've got a new dishwasher and he's not too bright," he added.
"Must be related to that new workman of mine," Walt said. "I went up to Tad's house yesterday after coffee and he'd put half the new shingles on upside-down. Fast worker, I'll admit, but how do you put shingles on upside-down and not notice something a little odd?"
"Didn't Kevin's brother do that to his house a while back?" Gary asked as Suzie brought out Mack's toast and carried off the offending carafe. "Thank you, dear. Make sure the others aren't soapy, too, would you?"
"So why don't I have a paper again?" Mack said, searching through the jam packets for the coveted blackberry.
"The editor dropped dead, it was deadline day, and Leah and that creampuff whathisname had to get the paper out by themselves. My guess is they didn't get it done in time," Gary said patiently.
"Oh yes they did," Rex announced from the doorway, doffing his hat. "They got it done early, as a matter of fact. The publisher guy in Loose Cannon was very surprised to see me."
"So she did sweet-talk you into bringing the paper up?" Paul said behind him. The two men sat down and turned over their coffee cups.
"Oh yes, how can you say no to someone who looks so pathetic?" Rex said.
"Oh, I bet she just batted her eyes and you turned into a big ol' marshmallow," Walt teased.
"No eyes were batted. Matter of fact, when I came in at first she asked me what the hell I thought I was doing barging in on production day. Had an X-acto knife in her hand and blue ink on her face and another knife stuck through a bun in her hair and looked like the newslady from hell," Rex grinned. "Inherited Kevin's temper, I think. But she apologized after a few minutes."
"So you got the paper to the printer in time, then?" Paul asked. "That Dave is a real stickler about paying his press boys overtime. I once showed up 45 minutes late and he about handed me my ass and almost didn't print up the Reader."
"I was an hour and 45 minutes early, actually. So we sat down for a while in his office, had some very good scotch, and he shot me a pretty good deal on an insert for the store. Which Leah gets to match for my trouble," Rex exulted. "It pays to be nice to the newsladies."
"So the paper got done on time? And you brought it back? And the circulation people got everything done?" Paul continued.
"As far as I know," Rex shrugged. "Leah was all excited that she'd actually get to bed on time for once."
"So then what the hell happened to the paper?" Gary demanded.
"I don't know – here comes Leah, why don't you ask her?"
"Hi, guys," Leah sighed as she sat down, still in her coat and scarf. She slumped down in her chair, closed her eyes, and murmured "Oh god, please give me coffee."
"Right away, schnookie," Rex said, pouring her half a cup and pushing it her way. "You look a little tired."
"I've been arguing with Viv over at the post office all morning," she said.
A general murmur of sympathy made its way around the table.
"She claims we didn't leave the sacks of the paper in the right place last night and so she 'didn't know to put it in the mailboxes' this morning," Leah said, rolling her eyes and beginning to remove her jacket. As her arms tangled in the sleeves, she heaved a tremendous sigh and just sat there for a moment, immobile, until Rex stood up and came to her rescue.
"All tangled up like a kitten in yarn," he teased.
"Hmmm..." she replied.
"So do we get a paper or not?" Mack groused over his toast.
"Maybe later this morning. If she gets time. She said this, mind you, while she took her second cigarette break of the morning. I have it on very good authority that it was her second," Leah sighed. "So she's smoking and the entire town thinks I screwed up and couldn't get the paper out on time."
"Don't worry, your hero here just told us you actually had time to spare," Gary said.
"That I did," Rex said, pleased with himself.
"Thanks," Leah smiled wearily at him.
"Did you maybe think to bring us a copy, hon?" Paul prompted.
"Oh. Shit. Yes I did. Hey Lee–" she said as the airport manager walked into the bar. "Could you hand me my satchel there? Hanging up with the coats? I brought two copies."
Paul grabbed the first to emerge from Leah's bag, while Gary snatched the second and, with a flourish, began to read the headlines.
"Gubernatorial candidate speaks on land use issues," he intoned. "Accuses opponents of corruption and kickbacks. That's hardly news, Leah."
"You should read the kind of crap he had to say," she replied. "Though nothing I could do could convey the freaky fervor with which he said it. It was like one of those guys on channel 10 predicting the end of the world and crying. He knocked over no fewer than seven coffee cups during his performance. Thanks, Lee, by the way, for the tip. That guy's a yellow journalist's dream!"
"She's right!" Paul said, following a line in the article with his finger. "'I cry foul on the officials of the Snowy Mountain Ski Company for withholding information about the existence of the Wyoming Business Council from legitimate businessmen,' Gantz said. 'They are trying to keep this resource a secret, and succeeding far too well.' How could any company keep the existence of a state bureau a secret?"
"Oh, it's a vast conspiracy with the Cheyenne and Casper newspapers and the TV stations and the post office," Leah said, giggling. "If you read further down, Sherwood and I are complicit, too."
"Well, of course you are," Rex said. "Everything's your fault when you're in local government."
"Ain't that the truth," Paul agreed. "So how'd it feel, printing accusations against yourself, Leah?"
"Oh, it's awesome," Leah said.
"OK, here we go," Gary interrupted. "'Reader editor dead at 65. Circumstances of his death still unknown, coroner says.'"
"He was 65?" Lee said. "My god, I had no idea he was that old."
"None of us did," Leah said. "But that's what his driver's license said and everything. Bruno said he was the healthiest looking 65-year-old he'd ever hauled away."
"Bruno?" Tom asked. "Bruno Brown?"
"Yeah, the coroner," Leah nodded.
"How'd you get him to talk for the paper?" Paul asked. "In my day he'd tell me to go to hell almost before I said 'hello' on the phone."
"Well, Paul, honey, I never had a yard sign for his opponent in my yard," Leah said patronizingly.
"That was, what, 20 years ago?" Paul protested.
"Wyoming Alzheimer's," Rex said, shaking his head.
"Anyway, if I may continue," Gary said, resuming his reading aloud. "'Big Fittings Republican-Reader editor Kim Huffnagle, 65, was found dead in his office Monday of what has preliminarily been rules as natural causes.
'Caldwell County Coroner Bruno Brown told the Reader he could find no obvious cause of death, but that Huffnagle looked "peaceful, like he'd just taken a nap,".
'The body was found at approximately 9:30 a.m. Monday morning by Reader staffer Danny Zabrowskie. Brown indicated that the time of death occurred approximately three hours before.
'The Big Fittings police department were summoned to the scene, but officers say they found nothing to indicate foul play or anything but a natural death, a conclusion with which Brown concurred.
'"He's just gone," Police Chief Doyle Gonzales said, shrugging. "65 isn't that surprising an age to go in your sleep. I think that's what happened."
'Huffnagle was the editor of the Reader for nearly three years, and will be missed by his employer, Reader publisher Gunter Baer of Moorwood, Wyo.
'"He always got the job done, and was a pleasant, dependable man," Baer said. "This is a disappointing shock for us all."
'At present, Reader reporter Leah Ambrose will serve as acting editor until a final decision is made, Baer added, saying he has "every confidence in Ms. Ambrose's abilities."
'Huffnagle leaves behind no survivors, and next of kin have yet to be located.
'Funeral arrangements are being handled by Phoenix Services, LLC of Loose Cannon. Dates for a service and interment were not established as of press time.'" Gary concluded reading.
"No family, no friends, no funeral, I'd say," Lee said.
"Gunter's paying for the funeral," Leah said. "It's going to be pretty simple, I think. I'm not even sure what's up with the pallbearers and stuff. We don't even know if he was a member of a particular church or anything."
"Well, he wasn't Catholic," Rex said.
"Never saw him at the Presbyterian," Paul said.
"He was no Baptist," Walt said, and Tom nodded.
"There are maybe eight people going to the Episcopal Church and he ain't one of them," Lee said.
"Never struck me as much of a holy roller, so I doubt he went to that funny thing on the hill," Gary mused.
"On the other hand, he never cussed, didn't hunt or fish, God, I never even saw him drink coffee," Leah said, puzzled.
"Maybe he was a Mormon," Walt said.
"Nah, remember that photo of Morton Kelley at the chariot races we had on the front page? The one where he's wearing those striped pants with the fake ass cheeks sticking out of them? No way a Mormon would print a picture like that, I think," Leah said. "Though sometimes he didn't pay too much attention to what was going in..."
"Yeah, like when you got elected to the town council. Didn't he have a fit because he found out about it from that reporter at the Loose Cannon paper instead of from you?" Gary asked.
"I tried and tried to tell him I'd gone ahead and filed, but he always waved me off and chased me out of his office with those horrible, stinky cigars," Leah said. "So I figured he'd at least see it in the proofs for the paper – it was in the second paragraph of the lead news story, I wrote a column about it, it was published in a legal ad in back, and there was a letter to the editor endorsing me, all in one issue. Missed 'em all. Cindylou Gibson didn't miss it, though!"
"Who, 'Miss Quote' herself?" Rex asked.
"The same! She always grabs a copy of the Reader while it's being printed so she can mine it for stories for the Loose Cannon Leader so she doesn't have to work so hard that night," Leah said, rolling her eyes. "And she came downstairs and asked Kim if it wasn't maybe a tiny conflict of interest that I was running for city council. Oh man, I guess he really wigged out, got on the phone to Gunter... and I guess he was really, really embarrassed when he learned that it was Gunter who'd written the letter to the editor endorsing me!"
"Yeah, printing that was maybe not good journalism," Paul chided her.
"Hey, what do I know about this stuff?" Leah said. "I majored in classics!"
"I know, but you'll probably hear about it at the press association convention," Paul said, patting her on the shoulder.
"To tell the truth, that is so not high on my list of things to worry about," Leah said.
"I kind of figured," Paul said.
"So what happens now?" Gary asked, folding the paper and tossing it onto the table.
"Well, I guess they're still looking for a cause of death, and meantime, I guess I'm in charge at the paper," Leah shrugged. "Just me and Danny..."
"Just make sure the airport board's legal ad doesn't get screwed up again," Lee said. "We've got to wrap things up with that contractor who widened the runway, and we can't until that notice has run."
"Have we gotten it?" Leah asked, blind-sided.
"Millie's supposed to have sent it in yesterday," Lee shrugged. "Again."
"Yesterday? Lee, our deadline for that stuff is Friday."
"Well, you already had the ad," Lee said. "You just had the contractor's name wrong."
"Oh, that thing. Actually, WE didn't have the name wrong. She did. She e-mails us those and we just copy and paste straight out of the message," Leah said.
"Whatever, I don't care about that stuff, just get it right."
"Tell Millie," Leah dismissed him.
"Well, you're on the council, you should know this stuff. You just paid this guy, what, $500,000?"
"Lee, do you know how many contractors and crap whose names I see every month? I refuse to be responsible for the details. That's why we have boards like yours. Phooey!"
"Keyboard," Rex snickered again. "Keyboard."
"Oh, shut up," Leah said, irritably. "You're just as bad as he is when the planning commission wants something. But at least our Attack Zoning Officer can spell."
"Hire him for the newspaper, then," Lee said.
"Now that would be interesting!" Rex said, nodding at Lee. "Hey Leah, now that you've got the bully pulpit and all, why not take the opportunity to make the paper interesting. You should give Leon a column! 'Zoning and You' or something, I don't know, you could make something up. Give Leon a column, and Gonzales, and..."
"And Millie!" Gary grinned.
"Oh, you guys are funny," Leah said. "I should give you guys a column."
"Anytime, schnookie," Rex said. "Anytime."
"Hmm..." she replied.
"Well, if you're not going to give Millie a column, at least you're going to buy coffee, if it's in my power to make it so, Miss Ambrose," Gary said, pulling a notepad out of Paul's pocket. "Listen up, One to 1000..."

TUESDAY II

"So do we know yet what happened to the newspaper guy?" Bill Greenwood asked as he removed the bicycle clips from his pantlegs.
"Not a thing," Gary said. "And I don't suppose we'll see Leah today to ask. She's probably got her hands full."
"Yeah, the lights were still on in the newspaper office when I left my store last night at 11," Rex agreed.
"They're always in there late on Monday nights," Paul said. "It takes a long time to develop all of that film, and wasn't there a school board meeting last night? Someone would have had to cover that, and write the story..."
"There was a volleyball game last night, too, I think," Walt, whose daughter was an assistant coach, added. "Woulda had to wait for the results from that, too, wouldn't they?"
"Plus an obituary," Paul said. "That'll be a hard one to write, too. Nobody really knew this guy that I know of. Not to mention the news story. I saw two police officers in there last night; who would have been interviewing whom?"
"So the guy's really dead, huh?" Matt said, strolling in and removing his cowboy hat. "Newspaper Kim and not Rubber Kim?"
"Rubber Kim? Oh, I get it," Rex said. "That's good."
"I don't," Tom said, frowning.
Walt leaned over and whispered something into his father-in-law's ear.
"He made his money on WHAT?" Tom sputtered.
"Condoms," Rex grinned.
"But I thought he was Catholic," Caleb said.
"Oh no, not really. His mom was Catholic, but she died when he was a teenager. Get him drunk and he'll tell you about how guilty he felt about being in a business she would have hated so much, but on the other hand, he did make lots of nice donations to the Church here in her memory. That's probably why you think he's Catholic," Rex said.
"Oh."
"So anyway, about this newspaper guy... Was he murdered or what?" Gary asked. "We could use some excitement around here."
"They don't know yet," Paul said. "It'll probably take a while. They said he was just slumped over his desk, peaceful as all git out, like he'd just taken a nap or something."
"Heart attack, maybe?" Lee said. "That's what we thought had happened to McGonagle yesterday."
"He's pretty rip roarin' mad about that," Matt giggled. "He'll probably sue poor Kelly or something. Said his wife has a new white streak in her hair over it, and Deirdre blew out the transmission in her car racing off to the hospital in Loose Cannon."
"God damn that twit dispatcher, anyway!" Deirdre thundered from the doorway. "She should lose her job for this!"
"She's got three kids and a deadbeat dad on her hands. What would she do?" Paul said.
"Well, she'd better learn to do her damned job," Deirdre retorted, flinging herself down into a chair. "Do you know what we went through yesterday?"
"Wasn't your dad just at home in his library?" Walt asked.
"Oh, no, he was off elk hunting," Deirdre said.
"Yeah, he was with me, and we were way out of cell phone range following this big bull over near the Samson place," Matt said. "Closest Kim came to a heart attack was when he got the news that he'd supposedly had a heart attack."
"How'd he hear about all the hubbub?" Paul asked.
"Oh, we gave up at about 1 o'clock yesterday afternoon and headed back to his house and he heard all the messages on his answering machine. My lord that man has a temper!" Matt said.
"Well, that's all fine and dandy, but I want to know about the newspaper guy," Gary insisted over the laughter.
"It's just like the grocer, Gary, we're just going to have to wait," Rex said calmly.
"Hey, did Leah get the stuff down about that governor candidate that was in town, I wonder?" Lee said. "It'd be a shame not to have that."
"We'll find out tomorrow," Rex said.
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Unless she can't get the paper out in time. It's just her and that college kid now," Paul said. "Though if Huffnagle did it my way all the ads were done on Friday so she's just got to fill the newsholes."
"Newsholes? Newsholes? That's maybe the greatest word ever," Deirdre said, laughing for the first time. "I might have to start using that. 'Shut up, you newshole.'"
"Oh, Leah already does," Gary said. "Weren't you here that one day when I stuck her for coffee and she called me that? Said it's even worse than calling someone an 'ice hole.'"
"Speaking of that, is the lake frozen over yet? Ellen's been slacking off over at the chamber, and she doesn't know if it's safe for ice fishing yet," Roger said, walking in. "God knows why, but everyone expects ME to know it."
"Why don't you ask Will? He's got nothing better to do this time of year than obsess over that kind of stuff," Gary said.
"Naw, Will doesn't mess with ice fishing; we're the only people around who sell that kind of stuff," Rex said. "But I don't know how much ice is on the lake yet. I'll ask Karen and Marcia next time I see them; they go walking out there every morning with their dogs." He pulled out a pen and wrote something on his hand.
"Jesus," Deirdre said, watching over Rex's shoulder. "How many notes have you got on there? Why don't you get a daytimer like a normal person?"
"That's one more thing to carry around," Rex said, sagely, "And they don't make them small enough to fit in your shirt pocket. Besides, too easy to lose?"
"But what happens if you wash your hand before you take care of that stuff?"
"Who says he washes his hands?" Walt joked.
"Ha." Rex said to Walt. "I use a very good pen, and I'm careful. Plus, if it's serious, it goes on these," he added, pointed to a stack of "sticky notes" in his left breast pocket.
"Yeah," Walt said, pointing to his own pocket, and to Paul's and Gary's. "A pad for to-dos, a pad for phone calls to make, a pad for your grocery list..."
"You can pretty much tell how you rate from which pad your stuff gets written down on," Matt added.
"So is stuff on your hand more important or less important?" Deirdre asked.
"If it's really important, it goes on a pad later," Rex said cryptically.
"So how important is finding out how much ice is on the lake?"
"It's of critical importance," Rex said.
"So you're going to call Karen and Marcia right after coffee?"
"No, I'm going to tell Ellen and tell her to get on the ball. She needs to know this stuff. What if a tourist calls about it?"
"Oh. Good point," Deirdre said.
"Anyway, that's not what my note is about," Rex said, putting his pen away.
"What was it, then?"
"I just wanted to remember my new vocabulary word. Newshole," Rex grinned. "See?" and he showed Deirdre his hand. "It's the best one since 'ignoranus.'"
"Someone who's both stupid and an asshole?" Gary asked. "I got that in my e-mail the other day."
Rex nodded. "I had Leah make me a big ol' poster of that for the bulletin board above my desk."
From deep in the kitchen, a phone rang. And rang. And rang.
"Dammit, I forgot I sent Suzie off to do the bank deposit," Gary said, getting up from his chair.
A moment later he came back, a cordless phone in his hand.
"Leah has some questions for you," he said, handing it to Paul.
"Well, she's just down the street," Paul grumped, taking it. "This is Paul... No, I didn't sell it directly to the Murdochs... Yeah, I bought it from Hearst... Yeah, it was the smallest paper Hearst ever owned... No, I don't think that was ever public... If you quote me about it, make sure I said it 'speculatively'... It is, too, a word... Right... No, Baer bought the paper from me in 1990... Oh, I think he hired Huffnagle just two or three years ago... Unless Baer changed the filing system the personnel stuff would be in the white cabinet, you ought to be able to get the date out of there... Are you going to be able to get the paper out?... It's what?... Hold on, I'll ask...
"Any of you guys going to Loose Cannon this afternoon?"
"I have to go to my store there for a bit, maybe," Rex said. "Why?"
"Leah wants to know if someone can take the paper to get printed over there. She doesn't trust her car right now, something about a solenoid on the transmission," Paul said.
"I'll talk to her about it after coffee," Rex said.
"Rex might be able to help," Paul said into the phone. "No, kiss him yourself... That's right, 1990. Oh, is there going to be an obit?... How'd you find out anything that fast?... Ha ha ha... Yeah, all right, we'll wait for the paper..."
"Ask her what's in it for me if I help her," Rex interrupted.
"Rex wants to know what he gets for helping you," Paul said, then began to laugh. "She says you get to read the paper a day early."
"Still got to teach that girl a thing or two about negotiating, I see," Rex said.
"All right, honey... You sure you don't need a hand over there? I know a thing or two about getting a paper out... Oh, well, you've got a point... OK, see you tomorrow... Bye."
"What was her point?" Walt asked.
"She said it would take her longer to teach me to use those computers than it would for her and Danny to finish getting the paper out themselves," Paul said ruefully.
"Well, Kanebrain, some of us have a living to go make," Rex said, "And I gotta go make a deal with Leah."
"You want me to run the numbers, I take it?" Gary said.
"If you would, please."
"All right, listen up... One to 1000..."

WEDNESDAY

"So, where's the paper?" Mack said irritably as he strode into the bar. "I didn't have one in my mailbox."
"Neither did I," Gary said. "She must not have been able to get it done."
"Who wasn't able to get what done?" Mack asked.
"You must have been hunting," Walt said.
"Well, yeah, just got back last night. Nice six point buck... Why, what did I miss?"
"Kim Huffnagle is dead," Gary said simply.
"Holy Christ, how did that happen?"
"Leah said Danny just found the guy slumped over his desk Monday morning," Walt said.
"What was Danny doing at Kim's house? I wouldn't let that dingaling within a mile of my place," Mack said, helping himself to coffee and signaling to Suzie for toast.
"Wasn't at his house, it was at the newspaper office. Hey, did he even have a house? Where'd he live, anyway?" Walt asked.
"I don't know," Gary said.
"Why would Kim be at the newspaper office on a Monday morning? I thought he and Matt went elk hunting," Mack said, confused. "And by the way, what has this got to do with me not having a newspaper today?"
"Oh, oh, oh – he thinks we mean Kim McGonagle," Tom mused, shaking his finger and taking a sip.
"There's another Kim?" Mack said, frowning.
"Kim McGonagle has the huge house full of dead animals south of town. Kim Huffnagle was the editor of the Reader," Gary explained slowly. "It's the newspaper guy who died."
"Oh. So just because he croaked we don't get a paper?" Mack groused. "Damn, this coffee tastes funny this morning. Soapy."
"Suzie, I thought you yanked the carafe that didn't get rinsed," Gary roared into the kitchen. "We've got a new dishwasher and he's not too bright," he added.
"Must be related to that new workman of mine," Walt said. "I went up to Tad's house yesterday after coffee and he'd put half the new shingles on upside-down. Fast worker, I'll admit, but how do you put shingles on upside-down and not notice something a little odd?"
"Didn't Kevin's brother do that to his house a while back?" Gary asked as Suzie brought out Mack's toast and carried off the offending carafe. "Thank you, dear. Make sure the others aren't soapy, too, would you?"
"So why don't I have a paper again?" Mack said, searching through the jam packets for the coveted blackberry.
"The editor dropped dead, it was deadline day, and Leah and that creampuff whathisname had to get the paper out by themselves. My guess is they didn't get it done in time," Gary said patiently.
"Oh yes they did," Rex announced from the doorway, doffing his hat. "They got it done early, as a matter of fact. The publisher guy in Loose Cannon was very surprised to see me."
"So she did sweet-talk you into bringing the paper up?" Paul said behind him. The two men sat down and turned over their coffee cups.
"Oh yes, how can you say no to someone who looks so pathetic?" Rex said.
"Oh, I bet she just batted her eyes and you turned into a big ol' marshmallow," Walt teased.
"No eyes were batted. Matter of fact, when I came in at first she asked me what the hell I thought I was doing barging in on production day. Had an X-acto knife in her hand and blue ink on her face and another knife stuck through a bun in her hair and looked like the newslady from hell," Rex grinned. "Inherited Kevin's temper, I think. But she apologized after a few minutes."
"So you got the paper to the printer in time, then?" Paul asked. "That Dave is a real stickler about paying his press boys overtime. I once showed up 45 minutes late and he about handed me my ass and almost didn't print up the Reader."
"I was an hour and 45 minutes early, actually. So we sat down for a while in his office, had some very good scotch, and he shot me a pretty good deal on an insert for the store. Which Leah gets to match for my trouble," Rex exulted. "It pays to be nice to the newsladies."
"So the paper got done on time? And you brought it back? And the circulation people got everything done?" Paul continued.
"As far as I know," Rex shrugged. "Leah was all excited that she'd actually get to bed on time for once."
"So then what the hell happened to the paper?" Gary demanded.
"I don't know – here comes Leah, why don't you ask her?"
"Hi, guys," Leah sighed as she sat down, still in her coat and scarf. She slumped down in her chair, closed her eyes, and murmured "Oh god, please give me coffee."
"Right away, schnookie," Rex said, pouring her half a cup and pushing it her way. "You look a little tired."
"I've been arguing with Viv over at the post office all morning," she said.
A general murmur of sympathy made its way around the table.
"She claims we didn't leave the sacks of the paper in the right place last night and so she 'didn't know to put it in the mailboxes' this morning," Leah said, rolling her eyes and beginning to remove her jacket. As her arms tangled in the sleeves, she heaved a tremendous sigh and just sat there for a moment, immobile, until Rex stood up and came to her rescue.
"All tangled up like a kitten in yarn," he teased.
"Hmmm..." she replied.
"So do we get a paper or not?" Mack groused over his toast.
"Maybe later this morning. If she gets time. She said this, mind you, while she took her second cigarette break of the morning. I have it on very good authority that it was her second," Leah sighed. "So she's smoking and the entire town thinks I screwed up and couldn't get the paper out on time."
"Don't worry, your hero here just told us you actually had time to spare," Gary said.
"That I did," Rex said, pleased with himself.
"Thanks," Leah smiled wearily at him.
"Did you maybe think to bring us a copy, hon?" Paul prompted.
"Oh. Shit. Yes I did. Hey Lee–" she said as the airport manager walked into the bar. "Could you hand me my satchel there? Hanging up with the coats? I brought two copies."
Paul grabbed the first to emerge from Leah's bag, while Gary snatched the second and, with a flourish, began to read the headlines.
"Gubernatorial candidate speaks on land use issues," he intoned. "Accuses opponents of corruption and kickbacks. That's hardly news, Leah."
"You should read the kind of crap he had to say," she replied. "Though nothing I could do could convey the freaky fervor with which he said it. It was like one of those guys on channel 10 predicting the end of the world and crying. He knocked over no fewer than seven coffee cups during his performance. Thanks, Lee, by the way, for the tip. That guy's a yellow journalist's dream!"
"She's right!" Paul said, following a line in the article with his finger. "'I cry foul on the officials of the Snowy Mountain Ski Company for withholding information about the existence of the Wyoming Business Council from legitimate businessmen,' Gantz said. 'They are trying to keep this resource a secret, and succeeding far too well.' How could any company keep the existence of a state bureau a secret?"
"Oh, it's a vast conspiracy with the Cheyenne and Casper newspapers and the TV stations and the post office," Leah said, giggling. "If you read further down, Sherwood and I are complicit, too."
"Well, of course you are," Rex said. "Everything's your fault when you're in local government."
"Ain't that the truth," Paul agreed. "So how'd it feel, printing accusations against yourself, Leah?"
"Oh, it's awesome," Leah said.
"OK, here we go," Gary interrupted. "'Reader editor dead at 78. Circumstances of his death still unknown, coroner says.'"
"He was 78?" Lee said. "My god, I had no idea he was that old."
"None of us did," Leah said. "But that's what his driver's license said and everything. Bruno said he was the healthiest looking 78-year-old he'd ever hauled away."
"Bruno?" Tom asked. "Bruno Brown?"
"Yeah, the coroner," Leah nodded.
"How'd you get him to talk for the paper?" Paul asked. "In my day he'd tell me to go to hell almost before I said 'hello' on the phone."
"Well, Paul, honey, I never had a yard sign for his opponent in my yard," Leah said patronizingly.
"That was, what, 20 years ago?" Paul protested.
"Wyoming Alzheimer's," Rex said, shaking his head.
"Anyway, if I may continue," Gary said, resuming his reading aloud. "'Big Fittings Republican-Reader editor Kim Huffnagle, 78, was found dead in his office Monday of what has preliminarily been rules as natural causes.
'Caldwell County Coroner Bruno Brown told the Reader he could find no obvious cause of death, but that Huffnagle looked "peaceful, like he'd just taken a nap,".
'The body was found at approximately 9:30 a.m. Monday morning by Reader staffer Danny Zabrowskie. Brown indicated that the time of death occurred approximately three hours before.
'The Big Fittings police department were summoned to the scene, but officers say they found nothing to indicate foul play or anything but a natural death, a conclusion with which Brown concurred.
'"He's just gone," Police Chief Doyle Gonzales said, shrugging. "78 isn't that surprising an age to go in your sleep. I think that's what happened."
'Huffnagle was the editor of the Reader for nearly three years, and will be missed by his employer, Reader publisher Gunter Baer of Moorwood, Wyo.
'"He always got the job done, and was a pleasant, dependable man," Baer said. "This is a disappointing shock for us all."
'At present, Reader reporter Leah Ambrose will serve as acting editor until a final decision is made, Baer added, saying he has "every confidence in Ms. Ambrose's abilities."
'Huffnagle leaves behind no survivors, and next of kin have yet to be located.
'Funeral arrangements are being handled by Phoenix Services, LLC of Loose Cannon. Dates for a service and interment were not established as of press time.'" Gary concluded reading.
"No family, no friends, no funeral, I'd say," Lee said.
"Gunter's paying for the funeral," Leah said. "It's going to be pretty simple, I think. I'm not even sure what's up with the pallbearers and stuff. We don't even know if he was a member of a particular church or anything."
"Well, he wasn't Catholic," Rex said.
"Never saw him at the Presbyterian," Paul said.
"He was no Baptist," Walt said, and Tom nodded.
"There are maybe eight people going to the Episcopal Church and he ain't one of them," Lee said.
"Never struck me as much of a holy roller, so I doubt he went to that funny thing on the hill," Gary mused.
"On the other hand, he never cussed, didn't hunt or fish, God, I never even saw him drink coffee," Leah said, puzzled.
"Maybe he was a Mormon," Walt said.
"Nah, remember that photo of Morton Kelley at the chariot races we had on the front page? The one where he's wearing those striped pants with the fake ass cheeks sticking out of them? No way a Mormon would print a picture like that, I think," Leah said. "Though sometimes he didn't pay too much attention to what was going in..."
"Yeah, like when you got elected to the town council. Didn't he have a fit because he found out about it from that reporter at the Loose Cannon paper instead of from you?" Gary asked.
"I tried and tried to tell him I'd gone ahead and filed, but he always waved me off and chased me out of his office with those horrible, stinky cigars," Leah said. "So I figured he'd at least see it in the proofs for the paper – it was in the second paragraph of the lead news story, I wrote a column about it, it was published in a legal ad in back, and there was a letter to the editor endorsing me, all in one issue. Missed 'em all. Cindylou Gibson didn't miss it, though!"
"Who, 'Miss Quote' herself?" Rex asked.
"The same! She always grabs a copy of the Reader while it's being printed so she can mine it for stories for the Loose Cannon Leader so she doesn't have to work so hard that night," Leah said, rolling her eyes. "And she came downstairs and asked Kim if it wasn't maybe a tiny conflict of interest that I was running for city council. Oh man, I guess he really wigged out, got on the phone to Gunter... and I guess he was really, really embarrassed when he learned that it was Gunter who'd written the letter to the editor endorsing me!"
"Yeah, printing that was maybe not good journalism," Paul chided her.
"Hey, what do I know about this stuff?" Leah said. "I majored in classics!"
"I know, but you'll probably hear about it at the press association convention," Paul said, patting her on the shoulder.
"To tell the truth, that is so not high on my list of things to worry about," Leah said.
"I kind of figured," Paul said.
"So what happens now?" Gary asked, folding the paper and tossing it onto the table.
"Well, I guess they're still looking for a cause of death, and meantime, I guess I'm in charge at the paper," Leah shrugged. "Just me and Danny..."
"Just make sure the airport board's legal ad doesn't get screwed up again," Lee said. "We've got to wrap things up with that contractor who widened the runway, and we can't until that notice has run."
"Have we gotten it?" Leah asked, blind-sided.
"Millie's supposed to have sent it in yesterday," Lee shrugged. "Again."
"Yesterday? Lee, our deadline for that stuff is Friday."
"Well, you already had the ad," Lee said. "You just had the contractor's name wrong."
"Oh, that thing. Actually, WE didn't have the name wrong. She did. She e-mails us those and we just copy and paste straight out of the message," Leah said.
"Whatever, I don't care about that stuff, just get it right."
"Tell Millie," Leah dismissed him.
"Well, you're on the council, you should know this stuff. You just paid this guy, what, $500,000?"
"Lee, do you know how many contractors and crap whose names I see every month? I refuse to be responsible for the details. That's why we have boards like yours. Phooey!"
"Keyboard," Rex snickered again. "Keyboard."
"Oh, shut up," Leah said, irritably. "You're just as bad as he is when the planning commission wants something. But at least our Attack Zoning Officer can spell."
"Hire him for the newspaper, then," Lee said.
"Now that would be interesting!" Rex said, nodding at Lee. "Hey Leah, now that you've got the bully pulpit and all, why not take the opportunity to make the paper interesting. You should give Leon a column! 'Zoning and You' or something, I don't know, you could make something up. Give Leon a column, and Gonzales, and..."
"And Millie!" Gary grinned.
"Oh, you guys are funny," Leah said. "I should give you guys a column."
"Anytime, schnookie," Rex said. "Anytime."
"Hmm..." she replied.
"Well, if you're not going to give Millie a column, at least you're going to buy coffee, Miss Ambrose," Gary said, pulling a notepad out of Paul's pocket. "Listen up, One to 1000..."

MONDAY (II)

"Where's Leah? I've got a story idea for her," Lee said, hanging up his hat.
"It's Monday," Paul said. "She's trying to make all the deadlines she blew off over the weekend."
"Oh, good. So she won't mind one more," Lee said, pulling out his cell phone.
"Dammit, Lee, no cell phones here unless it's an emergency, you know that. It's going to be in the bylaws whenever Leah or somebody gets around to actually writing them down. Meanwhile, I really freakin' hate cell phones, and it's, oh yes, by the way, surprise surprise, my bar!" Gary said.
"Oh, it is an emergency, it is," Lee said, dialing Leah's number. "That crackpot from Loose Cannon who's running for governor is over at the Donut Shop telling everyone how much better it would be for everyone if all of the public land in the state were distributed under the Homestead Act."
"Oh gawd, that's right up her alley," Rex said, slapping his thigh. "She'll fall all over herself to get there."
"That's what I'm counting on. But dammit, Gary, why aren't there any windows in this dungeon? We could watch her run by and whatnot," Lee said.
"So no drunks can get thrown through them. Do you know how much plate glass costs?"
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Lee said. "Hey Leah," he continued into his cell phone. "Get your butt over to the Donut Ranch right away. That Homestead Act nutjob is holding court!... No, I'm not kidding. He's railing away, doing the whole Jesse Jackson act... No, Rex didn't put me up to this... It's Lee. Who did you think it was?... All right. Be sure to stop by on your way back and tell us what he said... I know it's Monday, but it's two weeks from the election!... Right... Right... So that's my price for the tip, you come and tell us what he said... OK. Bye."
"Is she going?" Paul asked.
"Oh yeah, she's on her way."
"Whew. I trained her right, I guess."
"Trained who right?" Rex called out from the front door.
"Leah," Paul said.
"I thought I was training her," Rex said, hanging up his coat.
"I had her first, when she was a little kindergartner in my office," Paul said.
"You sick bastard," Rex said in mock shock.
"Not like that," Paul said, blushing.
"That's your department," Gary said.
"Hah?"
"Don't play dumb," Gary told him. "We all know you're sleeping with her."
"I've never slept with that girl in my life," Rex said carefully.
"Just because she probably doesn't let you sleep," Gary continued, nastily.
"Now wait a minute–" Rex began as the first sirens sounded.
"What the hell is that?" Paul said, getting out of his chair. "Too early for the noon whistle, Kevin isn't doing any work on his daughter's house, Walt is out of town, that rules out half the fire danger..." Paul wandered out the front door to see what he could see.
Walt's cell phone rang as the rest of the group filed out to join Paul.

"Guys," Walt said sadly, "I know what it is. It's an ambulance call."
"For who?" Lee said.
"It's Deirdre's dad. Her mom just called my phone in case Dee was here. She couldn't get through on the Cantina's line."
"Shit! That goddam phone company," Gary said.
"Is he all right?" Rex asked, stricken; he was very fond of Kim McGonagle, who had taught his sons to drive when Rex's patience ran out.
"We don't know," Walt said. "Any idea where Dee is?"
"She was going to go over some stuff with Leah over at the newspaper office this morning, I think. Something about that fall arts festival," Rex said, starting off down the street.
"Naw, wait, Rex!" Lee called out. "Leah was complaining about waiting for her; she's not there yet."
Rex came back.
"Then where's Deirdre.? She's back from Steamboat, right?" Rex said, coming back.
"I think so," Tom said. "Why not check in with the department store? She was doing a show with them this weekend, wasn't she?"
"Oh yeah," Walt said. "What's the phone number there?"
"I dunno," Gary said. "Call the chamber."
Lights flashing and sirens screaming, the ambulance rushed by.
After a few minutes, the men filed back into the Cantina.
"I hope he's all right," Rex said, hints of tears in his eyes. "Silly old bastard."
"Thank god I didn't go with the local company for my cell," Lee said. "I've actually got a signal. Is Deirdre there?" Lee said into his cell phone. "Oh good," he told his friends, "They're getting her... Dee, honey? It's Lee Meyer. Sit down a minute, would you?... Good. Honey, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to tell you: your dad just a heart attack... Yeah. They're probably taking him to the hospital in Loose Cannon... Right Walt?"
"Yeah, I think so," Walt said.
"Yes, Loose Cannon. Just across the state line in Jackson County... Yes... Are you all right?... Shit," Lee said to the group. "She just hung up."
"You've done what you can," Tom said.
"I sure hope so," Lee said.
Just then Leah burst in.
"Holy crap, you guys," she began.
"We know," Lee said, sadly.
"You know? How can you? Danny just called it in a few minutes ago!" Leah said.
"What would that idiot have to do with Kim McGonagle's heart attack?" Gary demanded angrily.
"What?" Leah asked, uncomprehending. "Kim McGonagle's dead, too?"
Her friends stared at her, also uncomprehending. At last, Caleb asked "What do you mean, 'too'?"
"I mean Danny just went into the production room at the paper and found Kim Huffnagle stone freaking dead, slumped over a light table. He called 911 a few minutes ago. That's what the sirens are for."
"Oh Jesus," Lee said, burying his face in his hands.
Rex began to laugh.
Leah gave him a severe look. "What the hell's so funny, Rex? The guy's dead."
"Oh hon, that's not what's funny. It's just...a little bit ironic... You see, Lee just got off the phone with Deirdre. He just told her that her dad was the one with the heart attack," Rex said.
"Poor Dee," Lee said, his voice muffled by his hands.
"Her dad?"
"Kim McGonagle," Gary said, starting to catch up.
"Oh Jesus," Caleb said. "Did the ambulance go to the wrong place?"
"No," Leah said after a moment. "I saw it stopping in front of the newspaper office. They're getting 'our' Kim. Um... why do you think it was McGonagle exactly?"
"I got a call from Kim's wife a few minutes ago. She was looking for Deirdre," Walt said.
"Oh wow," Leah said. "What a huge fuckup. Must be the dispatcher..."
"Unless something happened to both of them," Gary pointed out.
"Hadn't even thought of that," Leah said. "Shit! I'd better go see what I can find out. No matter what, I've got a paper to get out this week." And she dashed out of the bar.
"What are the odds of both Kims dying on the same day?" Walt mused.
"Well, we don't know that Kim McGonagle is dead, just that he might have had a heart attack," Paul pointed out. "Kim Huffnagle is the only one we know is dead. And even that's just second hand."
"Do you really think it was just the dispatcher goofing it up?" Tom asked. "She's a bright, bright girl."
"Sure, but who knows Kim Huffnagle?" Gary pointed out. "Nobody. He's a total recluse. If Leah wasn't bitching about him all the time, we wouldn't even know who the hell he is. I'd probably assume it was McGonagle." He shrugged.
"You have a point," Rex said, pondering. "Few of us have even met him. He's more mysterious even than Tad was. Leah certainly never brought HIM to meet us."
"Well, as you say, Leah was brought up right," Tad observed.
"I've met him, and he's nothing much to weep over," Caleb said. "From what I've seen of him, nobody would miss him. Nobody. He just hides in that back office and smokes those cheap cigars."
"Christ, he's already messed me up, and I've only had the store for three weeks," Tad agreed. "My insert got stuffed in the Loose Cannon paper instead of Big Fittings's."
"That wouldn't have been Huffnagle's fault; they do the inserts over at Loose Cannon. His only mistake there was not noticing they'd screwed up when he was driving home," Paul explained. "Remember, the paper gets printed over there on Tuesday nights."
"Oh. Good thing I haven't bitched him out yet, then," Tad said.
"He'd have just said 'I'm sorry' and stared at you for a while," Caleb said.
"I hear he tried to get Leah fired when she got elected," Gary said darkly.
"Well, I don't know anything about that," Paul said.
"Well, look, Leah isn't God's gift to reporting, she's made mistakes, too," Rex said.
"Yeah, but at least when she makes mistakes she owns up to them and prints corrections when we catch 'em," Paul said. "Remember when Huffnagle ran that story ran about the cop running over the dog on First Street that implied it was a local cop when it was really some guy from Montana? Never saw a drop of ink retracting it, unless you count that letter to the editor the Montana guy wrote apologizing for the wreck."
"Oh yeah," Lee said. "That was Huffnagle? I thought it was that meathead he had working for him for a while there a few years ago."
"Doesn't matter," Paul said. "It was Huffnagle's retraction to print, and he didn't. That never would have happened when that paper was mine."
"Well, yeah," Gary said. "But you sold that thing 15 years ago."
"Big mistake," Paul acknowledged. "Big mistake. But I had my mother to take care of."
The group nodded, solemnly. Paul's mother had been someone they had all respected deeply.
"So how do we figure out who's actually dead?" Caleb asked bluntly after a moment.
"Well, I suppose we wait," Gary said.
"Or we call the police department," Walt said brightly.
"We could do that," Lee said, bringing out his cell phone again.
"Well, let's see if the house phone is working again yet," Gary said.
"Sheah, right," Rex said.
"You never know," Gary said, picking up his cordless. "I've got a dial tone. What's the police department's number?"
"8311, I think," Walt said.
"No, that's the newspaper's number," Rex said.
"8315," Tom offered.
"That sounds right," Caleb said.
"No, 8316," Paul said.
"That sounds right, too," Caleb said.
"Well, which is it?" Gary demanded.
"Try 8316," Paul said.
"OK... It's ringing... Hey, Kelly, this is Gary Kane calling... Oh, I'm glad you liked the tamales, I'll tell Michaela... No, I'm calling because, listen, who was it that the ambulance was for this morning... Huffnagle? Really? What happened?... Oh my, that is a surprise... No, no, just... Did something happen to Kim McGonagle too?... Oh, it's OK, you can tell me, I won't tell anyone–" here Gary rolled his eyes at his friends, who snickered quietly, "Oh really? Really? OK, that makes sense, sort of. Yeah, I'll be sure to keep it under my hat... We all make mistakes... Make sure you tell his wife, OK? Oh, and see if you can get hold of Deirdre, would you? Last I heard she was on her way to the hospital in Loose Cannon. She won't like it very much if she goes all that way and it's for nothing.... No, I don't know her cell phone number..." he looked quizzically at his companions, none of whom volunteered information. "Try the department store, maybe they know... No, I know, it's an easy mistake to make... Yes... So, what do they think happened to Huffnagle?... Really? Oh my... Thank you very much, Kelly, you're a good hand... Yes, I'll tell Michaela about her tamales, she'll be very happy... OK, thanks again... Good bye."
"Well?" Paul said eagerly.
"Kim McGonagle is fine, as far as she knows. She got them confused in the heat of the moment, or something – kind of a twinkie, that girl, you know – and it really is Huffnagle that they sent the ambulance for. He's stone dead in the newspaper office," Gary said.
"Of what?" Rex asked.
"They don't know yet. No blood or anything. We'll maybe know later. Maybe Leah knows something, I don't know..."
"Oh yeah, let's call Leah!" Lee said.
"No, let's not," Rex said. "Hey, Kanebrain, you mind running the numbers? I have a feeling this is going to be a wild and woolly day."
"Got some paper?"
"Always," Rex said, handing him a notepad.
"All right, listen up," Gary said somberly. "One to 1000..."

FRIDAY

Friday morning found the group assembled, with a surprise guest.
"Everyone," Leah said, bringing in a spectrally thin, impossibly tall, bald and mustachioed man, "This is Tad the grocer."
"Hi, everyone," Tad said with a goofy smile. "I hear you think I'm the devil."
"Tad!" Leah said, slapping his shoulder with the back of her hand as they sat down between Rex and Kevin.
"So she's been telling you about us, then?" Gary said.
"No, not at all. I heard it on the wind," Tad said, smirking again. "The wind that Leah broke."
Leah smacked him again before proceeding to introduce the table to him. "Tad, this is Rex Wainwright, he runs the hardware store," she said, placing a hand on Rex's shoulder, "And, of course, his mouth–"
"Only when you're around, schnookie," Rex grinned.
"Right. Only when I'm around. And on days that end in 'Y'" she said, not missing a beat. "To his left is Bill Greenwood, retired lawyer and probably your future golf buddy, unless you screw up and start rooting too loudly for CSU–"
"Fuck the Sheep!" the table said as one.
"See?" Leah said, eying Tad.
"I'm new here, so I'll just let that pass," he said, wisely.
"Next to Bill is my friend Matt McArthur, retired tire executive."
"Mucho gusto a conocerle," Matt said.
"Gumbo musto congo," Tad said after a moment, bowing in his chair to general laughter.
"He likes to show off his command of foreign languages," Leah acknowledged.
"Look who's talking!" Rex said.
"Hush! Next to Matt is Gary Kane, who owns this here joint," she continued.
"Pleased to meet you. Do you stock Xingu?
"LEAH!" Gary roared.
"Sorry," Leah said, nudging Tad in the ribs. "He was supposed to wait and spring that on you next week."
"Oh, sorry about that, Leah. Hey, while I'm thinking of it, is there somewhere around here where I can get a latte? It's for my grandkids."
"Tad!"
"Oops, sorry again, Leah. My mistake, that was for week three, wasn't it?"
"And four, but never mind. That's what I get for trying to help you out, isn't it? Anyway, next to Gary is Deirdre McGonagle – you'll like her, Tad, she's a bigger heretic than you are. She likes the Terrapins–"
"Go Maryland!" Deirdre spouted.
"Right back to the ocean!" Tad said in return, to general applause.
"Good one. Next to Deirdre is Tom Peters, who taught geometry to pretty much everyone here except for Deirdre and you and, Roger..."
"Man, I've gotta talk to you later, then," Tad said to Tom. "Nobody in this town can angle park! Now I know who to blame!"
"Way to endear yourself, Tad," Rex guffawed.
"You have to understand," Gary said, "That Tom studied with Euclid himself, and still thinks cars are pretty newfangled."
"I knew I should have flunked you, Kane," Tom said.
Gary just smiled.
"And there's Tom's son-in-law, Walt, who's our building contractor, landfill board member, and – aren't you on the cemetery board now, too, Walt?"
"No, that's my brother Kenny," Walt said.
"Ahh. Anyway, he'll probably be the one to fix all the things that Gordie's sons got wrong when they built your house–"
"Oh, which house did you get, Tad?" Rex asked.
"I bought that old stone place above the ditch. It's gorgeous," Tad said proudly.
"Pretty," Lee, sitting next to Walt, agreed, "Pretty moldy."
"He'll discover that in due time, Lee. Tad, this is Lee, who runs our airport and whose wife runs the branch library. Be nice to them; they bite. Next to Lee is Roger and Maker's Mark. Maker's Mark runs the lumber yard; Roger just works there."
"Please to meet you," Roger said. Mark, typically, just stared at Deirdre's newly arrived plate of toast.
"Oh yes, and the young lady serving the toast," Leah continued, "Is Suzie, who really runs this town because if she cuts off our coffee or our toast we all just sort of shrivel up and die."
Suzie laughed and held out a shy hand to Tad, who gallantly kissed it.
"Do you have rye bread back there?"
"Goddammit, Leah, I knew this guy was going to be trouble," Gary burst out, starting to rise from his chair until he noticed Tad's smirk. "Oh. This guy is good."
"Yes, yes he is."
"Hush, Leah! My wife might find out!" Tad said, blushing.
"Poaching on the married men again, Leah?" Rex asked, not quite mockingly.
"I never poach, Rex, dear. Now hush. Next to Lee is Caleb, a.k.a. 'Red' for obvious reasons," the flame-topped gas man smiled at this, "Who is the gas company's local service tech."
"I'd better be extra nice to him, then, or he'll start bleeding my gas meter in the night, right?"
"Tad, you are most indiscreet. And this man, to Caleb's right, is my own dear personal dad, Kevin Frank Ambrose," Leah continued.
"What do you do, Kevin?" Tad asked.
"Kick ass and take names," Kevin said.
"Ex cop," Rex said in a stage whisper.
"Oh, I see where Leah gets her charm, then," Tad said.
"You know what, I like this guy," Gary said.
"Yeah, he grows on you," Leah admitted. "Sort of like ringworm."
"I resemble that remark," Tad said.
"Hmm." she replied. "Anyway, between my dad and you is Paul Black, who thinks he still owns the newspaper – hush! – and is our all-around historian and general savant. Got a question about Gordie or anybody and he's your man."
"Not just Gordie," Paul began. "Know how that building you bought originally got built? It was originally a whorehouse, and then–"
"Wow, I've definitely got to sit down with you!" Tad said.
"Umm, yes..." Paul said, nonplused.
"Wait until you've got about six hours," Leah warned. "So anyway, there's a few guys who aren't here today, but this is pretty much the group."
"I'll strive to be worthy of it," Tad said solemnly.
They all raised their coffee cups to this.
"So but here's the big question," Gary began.
"Oh god, here it comes," Roger said. "Get out while you can, Tad."
"Hush! Who did you vote for in the last presidential election?"
"Donald Duck," Tad said.
"Hey – you said you voted for Frank Zappa," Leah glared at her new friend.
"I lied to get into your good graces, my dear," Tad said.
Rex, recovering from a spit take, could restrain himself no longer. "Where the HELL did you find this guy, Leah?"
"At the grocery store," she said innocently.
"She did say she was an OK sort of guy," Paul said.
"But he voted for Donald Fucking Duck," Gary began.
"Who should he have voted for, Mickey Mouse?" Paul asked.
"No, at least Donald is married to Daisy," Rex said. "Mickey and Minnie just live together in sin."
"How do you know that?" Leah asked.
"Oh... I forget where I read that," Rex said. "But the important thing is..."
"The important thing is he didn't vote for Al Gore," Gary said, silencing them all.
"Oh wait, actually... I did vote for Gore. I always get him and Donald mixed up," Tad said.
"What?"
"Just kidding," Tad said.
"You'd better be," Gary said darkly.
"Oh, let's not even get into that again," Lee barked. "At least once a week, Gary gets on a tear about what if we'd elected Al Gore and he about has an aneurysm."
"But it's so funny," Rex said.
"Oh, come on, it stopped being funny about seven months ago," Lee countered.
"To you, maybe," Leah said. "But Rex and I are much easier to entertain."
"Damn straight, honey," Rex said, grabbing her hand and raising it for emphasis.
"So, has Leah filled you in on the local political situation?" Paul asked.
"Sort of. She told me Gary was mayor first, then quit when he couldn't get people to throw out their junk–"
"Junked cars. Junked cars," Gary said.
"Yeah. And then Paul was mayor, but some harpies tore out his liver–"
"Ooh, good description!" Rex said, patting Leah on the back.
"Thank you," she replied.
"And now some guy named Sherwood Something is mayor and Leah's on the council with some guy named Will and two other guys who do whatever the town clerk–"
"Sillie Millie," Kevin intoned.
"Yeah, whatever she wants, and Leah is the only one fighting for righteousness and the American Way–"
"Tad! That's not what I said at all!"
"Poetic license," Tad said.
"Oh, I can already see why she likes you," Rex said.
"She adores me," Tad said. "So anyway, Leah is our selfless heroine and you are her Round Table of Chivalry and Stuff–"
"Awww, that's sweet," Walt said.
"Ain't it?" Leah said.
"And she takes it up the ass on a weekly basis because the voters all think you're bossing her around."
"Ha! More like she's bossing us around," Caleb said. "She makes us do the damnedest things..."
"Oh, did she get you signed up to judge the fishing derby, too?" Rex asked.
"Yes. Leah, god help us if Ellen ever quits the chamber, because they'd probably give you the job, and then we'd never be free," Caleb said.
"Leah... is this the same fishing derby I'm helping judge?" Tad asked.
The table roared.
"She got you too, huh?" Kevin asked. "Whenever her buddy Ellen can't find enough volunteers, she whines to my daughter and turns her loose on us. Tad, I like you, so let me tell you right now, if she ever asks you to be in the chamber of commerce haunted house, you're busy that week."
"Damn right, I'm still having nightmares about being trapped in that sweaty mask," Rex said.
"Actually, it wasn't the mask that was sweaty, it was you," Leah said.
"Enough! Listen up, everybody, one to 1000," Gary hollered.
"What's this?" Tad said.
"The numbers game!" Paul said. "It's a contest to see who can guess today's secret number!"
"Oh, goody! I'm great at guessing games!" Tad said.
"Oh, we're counting on that," Gary smirked.

THURSDAY

"So how'd the council meeting go, Mizzzzz Ambrose?" Rex drawled as Leah sat down.
"Don't ask unless you really want to know," Leah growled, helping herself to a cup. She softened a bit as Rex gallantly poured her some coffee – just half a cup, as she liked, because, as she and Rex always maintained, the Cantina's cups were too large and leaked too much heat to enjoy a full cup. By the time a cup was half gone, it was always room temperature.
"Oh, poor baby, do tell," he said.
"You already know, I think," Leah sulked.
"Millie!" Gary trumpeted.
"Yes, Millie. She finally got her goddam redecoration through," Leah stormed. "Her 'capital improvements' line item that I had understood to be for restriping the parking lot was actually for buying new conference tables and chairs and matching blinds and shit like that."
Gary, Paul, and Mack all laughed nastily.
"See, details matter," Gary gloated.
"I don't see where you have any room to laugh at me over this," Leah said. "It's your tax money that woman is wasting, too."
"I warned you about her. She was an evil bitch when I was mayor and she's even worse now that there's no one to sit on her," Gary said.
"Hey, I sit on her plenty," Leah said.
"Obviously not enough," Rex teased.
"Do I really have to do all of this myself?" Leah asked. "Jesus, I've only got so much I can do, you know?"
"That's the hot seat, baby," Rex said.
"It only gets better," Gary agreed.
"Great. Now which one of you assholes started my write-in campaign again?"
The tables were silent, until Paul, barely suppressing his laughter, pointed towards Rex and Kevin.
"Huh?" Leah said.
"Oh yeah," Gary said. "This was all Rex's idea."
"Not quite," Rex said. "I wasn't the one who wrote you in for the primary. I think I know who that was, but I can't take credit for that."
"But," Leah said, nodding as she recalled it all, "You campaigned for me behind my back after I was dumb enough to say I'd go ahead and be on the general election ballot."
"I had help," Rex said. "Who do you think bought that campaign ad?"
"I thought it was my boss," Leah said.
"Ho! That's a good one," Gary said. "Though now that you mention it, it makes a little sense..."
"Best way to get rid of her, maybe?" Paul said. "I tried that once when I owned the paper..."
"You weren't going to get rid of Gert that way," Gary said.
"Cheaper than a divorce, and I'd still get sex once every couple of years," Paul said.
"Wait, so who did buy the campaign ad? That idiot editor of mine won't ever let me see the books," Leah said.
Kevin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Honey..." he began.
"DAD?"
"It was... It was your mother's idea."
"DAD..."
"Well, not exactly your mother's idea, Rex sort of–"
"Don't go there, Ambrose, you coyote!" Rex cut in.
"Well, you were the one who said 'wouldn't it be funny if' we did..."
"But you're the one who went and did it!"
"DAD. I should have known. Do you know the kind of hell you put me through?"
"Oh, it was your turn. Being on the council isn't that bad. Hell, more'n half of us have been there," Kevin said.
"That's not what I mean. The county clerk gave me 20 kinds of hell accounting for that newspaper ad. You have to report all of that shit if you run, you know."
"You mean you actually filed?" Gary said, incredulous.
"Well, yes. I made this deal with Millie, you see..." Leah began.
"Oh my gawd, you fell for the old 'put your name in the hat' gambit, didn't you?" Gary said.
"Didn't realize it was an old gambit, but... yeah, I did. She just said I was the name that was drawn. And I'd promised if I was drawn I'd file," Leah said.
"Aha!" Gary said, trading significant glances with Paul and Mack.
"Jesus. She did that to me, too," Paul said.
"And me," Mack said.
"Worked on me, too," Gary admitted. "Only one name in the hat, hmm?"
"Christ," Leah said. "For exactly how many years has this woman been hand-picking council members?"
"Well..."
"Wait, why would she pick YOU, Leah?" Caleb said suddenly. "These guys are all creampuffs when a pretty girl smiles at them, but you? Is there... something we should know?"
"Um, nothing like that, Caleb, thanks for playing," Leah quipped.
"She must have picked on you because you're young," Rex said. "And she obviously didn't realize how much you take after your father."
"Who, 'Damn You Ambrose'?" Kevin said, laughing.
"You know, she said that to me the other day," Leah told her father.
"What for?" he asked.
"Because I voted with Sherwood and Dooley Hampton to approve that new contract with the water and sewer board," Leah said.
"What's the big deal with that?" Deirdre asked, walking in and pulling up a chair.
"The water and sewer contract? Everything!" Leah said. "The board wanted to invest its money locally instead of in Cheyenne, and that meant Millie wouldn't have complete control over it. Couldn't squirrel it away like she does."
"Oh," Deirdre said. "Is that bad?"
"Not in and of itself, no, but by state law that money is really theirs to control," Leah said. "So she had no business getting into a snit over it. Pass that goddam carafe, would you Tom? This one's empty."
"Ah, hence the 'Damn You Ambrose," Kevin nodded.
"I hear when you were on the council that got abbreviated to DYA," Walt quipped. "Didn't it even make it into the minutes once?"
"No, that made it into my column," Paul said. "Damn if I don't wish I still had the paper; sounds like it's time for DYA: The Next Generation!"
The group sipped coffee in silence for a moment, pondering this.
"Doesn't have much of a sense of humor, does she?" Tom observed quietly.
"Who, Leah?" Gary asked.
"No, Millie."
"Town clerks never do," Gary said.
"Yeah. I have a whole theory about them," Leah said. "Ever since I saw them at the local government convention last summer. Hoooo," she shuddered, "Nothing like spending an evening drinking tequila with 20 or 30 municipal clerks."
"What's your theory?" Kevin asked.
"Oh. I know now what happens to high school cheerleaders after they graduate, is all. They become municipal clerks."
The group absorbed this for a moment. Heads slowly began to nod, fingers to steeple under chins.
"She's got a point," Rex said.
"No shit," Paul said.
"I bet you anything Millie was a cheerleader," Leah continued.
"She's sure as hell got the legs for it," Gary opined.
Deirdre threw toast at her old friend. "Gary, you dope, this is Leah talking. 'Cheerleader' is not a compliment."
"What's it mean, then?" Gary asked.
"Cheerleaders are bitchy, backstabbing, manipulative... bitches," Deirdre concluded, munching her final piece of toast savagely.
"Yes!" Leah said.
"They do whatever it takes to get their shitty little way, right Leah?"
"That's what I'm talking about."
"Uh-HUH!" Deirdre and Leah slapped each other "five" across Rex's lap.
"My, my, my!" Rex said. "Do that again!"
"Why?" Deirdre demanded.
"Oh, no reason."
"Oh, Leah – he must have been looking down your blouse again."
"Rex!" Leah clutched at her neckline.
"Just a red-blooded man, I am," Rex said proudly. "Not like I've never seen it before. I've got two sons your age, after all!"
"Not my age!" Deirdre said.
"No, Leah's age."
"Not quite," Gary interjected. "Leah and my son graduated two years before those crazy ass twins of yours did."
"Thank you for setting the facts straight, Gary," Leah said, glaring a bit at Rex.
"Aw hell, when you're my age, two years is nothing," Rex said dismissively.
"Your age? You're the youngest one here, except for Leah," Deirdre snorted.
"Yeah, but when I'm not here the median age skyrockets," Leah pointed out.
"What, have you done the math?" Deirdre demanded.
"Oh shit, here we go. Deirdre, never ask Leah about math stuff. She's still got a chip on her shoulder from when Tom gave her a B in geometry in high school," Rex said.
"Rex! How dare you divulge my secrets that way?" Leah said.
"Wrote all about it on your weblog last week, didn't you, schnookie?" Rex said.
Leah sighed. "Some days I regret teaching you to use that computer," she grumbled.
"You're still sore because of that 'B'?" Tom asked her.
"Not exactly sore, but..."
"But you've compensated ever since by becoming a psycho math nerd, you said it on that website," Rex goaded her.
"You're just sore because I speak the truth," Leah said. "When I'm here, the median age of this group is 55. Without me it's almost 68."
"Is it really?" Bill Greenwood said, sitting down with a slight huff.
"Well, hate to break it to you, but yes," Leah said. "Hey, are you all right?"
"Oh yeah, yeah. Just rode my bike here again," Bill, who was 77, said. "Coming over that bridge is always a bitch."
"Oh, you're not kidding. Try it sometime with a hyperactive border collie on a leash!" Leah said. "Incline, adverse winds, and the constant danger of being pulled into traffic if a pickup load of dogs goes by!"
"Aww, did your wicked wittle black doggie pull you off your bike again?" Kevin mocked.
"She did. Hush!"
"Oh she most certainly did!" Rex enthused. "Right in front of my door! Me and Sherwood and Will Colson and, what, about six other people saw it?"
"At least," Leah groused. "Thanks so much."
"Hey, at least the bruises are healing nicely," Rex observed, holding up her hand and kissing it. "This wrist was completely purple about a week ago."
"Yeah, yeah, no thanks to you," Leah said.
"Next time, don't be so goddamn cheap," Rex said. "When you buy a new tire from me, spend the extra buck-oh-nine and get a new innertube, too. That's what gotcha."
"What, did her tire explode again?" Paul asked.
"So, what are we going to do about Millie," Leah said, trying to change the subject.
"Seems obvious to me," Gary said. "You need to run for mayor and fire her ass."
"A little late for that," Leah said. "The filing deadline is passed, and oh, by the way, HELL NO."
"Gotta love that keyboard," Rex grinned, pointing to Leah's chest. "Can't you just see it there?"
"Yeah, yeah, tap tap tap," Leah said. "Seriously, what are we going to do about this woman?"
"That's not for us to do, it's for you," Paul said.
"Why, because none of you guys had the balls to do it when you were on the council?"
"She wasn't thwarting our grand schemes when we were on there," Gary said.
"That's because you didn't have any," Leah said.
"Excuse me, what do you call my junk car ordinance?" Gary demanded.
"Junk," Paul and Rex said in unison.
"You tried to kill a whole lotta sacred cows," Paul added.
"And you didn't create a need for it," Leah said.
"Oh? And how would you do that?"
"Well, there's always my strategy..."
"Which is?"
"If you want to get rid of a stupid law," Leah pontificated, "First you enforce the hell out of it."
"Oh, so by that logic you think the leash law is a stupid law?" Paul teased.
"Only sort of," Leah said. "There's dogs at large and there's dogs off the leash, and those two aren't the same thing."
"Oh, good point."
"So anyway, if I may continue," Leah said, glaring slightly at Paul. "First you enforce the hell out of it, and then you ride the groundswell of public outrage to support your move to get rid of the stupid law. That's why we hired the police chief we did. Old King Log and Young King Stork."
"Hah?" Gary said.
"An old Roman story," Leah said. "Once upon a time, the frogs in the swamp grew dissatisfied because, of all the peoples in the land, they alone didn't have a king. So they demanded that the gods give them a king."
"Oh gawd, not this story again," Rex said, burying his face in his hands.
"Hush! It applies, Rex. Hush!"
"Oh yes, yes it does."
"So the gods said, ok, and gave them Old King Log."
"Is that your name for Sherwood?" Walt piped up.
"Wrong! Good guess, but wrong," Leah continued. "Old King Log–"
"Was really a log," Rex interrupted, to hasten the story. "As in a dead piece of wood that just sort of wallowed in the swamp."
"Who's telling this story, you or me?" Leah said sharply.
"..."
"Thank you. Yes, a real log. And the frogs were happy... for a little while. But then they started to notice a certain lack of leadership, of dynamism, of–"
"Movement?" Kevin asked.
"Movement, yes. And so they harassed the gods again. 'This king is a dud, we need an active leader, someone who really gets things done, someone we can respect, blah blah blah.' And so the gods sent down–"
"Young King Stork," Rex finished for her.
"Young King Stork," Leah nodded.
Silence reigned for a moment.
"Ummm?" Bill said. "What did stork do?"
"Oh, what storks usually do," Leah said.
"Storks," Rex interrupted, "Eat frogs."
"Ohhhhhh!"
"Yes. Which reminds me of another–"
"Leah!"
"Yes, Rex?"
"You are not going to tell the Russian joke again."
"But it's–"
"Why did we eat the frogs?" the whole table chimed in.
"Oh," Leah said. "Guess I've told it a time or two.
"Or three, or four... Your mother let you read too many books that were over your head when you were little," Kevin said. "Should have made you stick to the Cabela's catalogue."
"We'd all be happier if we stuck to the Cabela's catalogue," Walt said sagely.
"What about the Bible?" Tom prodded his son-in-law.
"That, too," Walt said.
"Oh Jesus, that's enough. Listen up," Gary said.
The game commenced, as always.
The winning number was 42, which only Leah thought funny.

WEDNESDAY

Caleb, Mack, Tom and Walt sat quietly, desultorily sipping coffee and eying the latest issue of the Big Fittings Republican-Reader, which featured Leah's profile of the new grocer on the front page.
"Well, he doesn't sound like too bad of a guy," Mack said.
"Who?" Caleb asked, staring down the hallway towards the front door.
"Whatshisname... Tad something. The guy who bought old Gordie's grocery store. The Greenie."
"Oh, him. You know, I think I met him at church Sunday," Walt said.
"You THINK you met him at church? How could you mistake a mug like that?" Caleb said, pointing at the photograph, which made the man look, as someone had observed earlier that morning, kind of like a cantelope with a mustache. They must have had trouble in the darkroom again.
"Well, I don't know, a lot happens on Sundays," Walt said.
"Where is everybody?" Mack asked.
"I think Gary's getting his ulcers checked again," Tom said. "Or some more skin cancers scraped off his nose, or something like that. Anyway, he's in Cheyenne."
"Anyone surprised that Gary has ulcers? That man isn't the least bit happy unless someone's plotting against him or trying to rip him off or something," Caleb said, shaking his head. "Was he always like that?"
"Oh wow, you should have seen him in high school. He ran for student body president all four years and every year there was some crazy story about how so and so had put something in Gary's coke so he'd screw up his campaign speech or how this teacher had been paid off to keep him late from class so he'd miss a chance to talk the pep squad into voting for him or something," Walt said.
"Once he said you were sneaking over to his house at night and letting gas out of his meter to jack up his gas bill," Tom said.
"But then we pointed out that your wife was off having a baby at the time and messing with Gary probably wasn't your highest priority," Walt said.
"He didn't believe you, though," Mack said.
"Well, he wouldn't be Gary if he did," Walt sighed.
"Did what?" Leah said sitting down and grabbing a coffee cup.
"Believed there was no way that Caleb was letting gas out of his meter at night last year," Walt said.
"Oh yeah. 'There's no such thing as an unexpected spike in gas prices, Leah.' I remember that lecture," she said.
"Heh, I was expecting him to break out the flow charts on that one," Walt agreed.
"Nice story on the new grocer, Leah," Tom said.
"But you didn't give his agenda," Mack grumbled.
"Agenda? Agenda? He's going to run the grocery store, Mack. You're starting to sound like Gary," Leah said worriedly.
"Well, they're cousins," Tom said, eying Mack.
"Well shit, we're all cousins if you go back far enough," Leah said, testing out the carafes one by one to find one that still had coffee in it. "Suzie, is there some more coffee ready?"
"Jussec, I'll fill those up again," Suzie said.
"So what's new with you, anyway, Miss Leah?" Tom asked.
"Oh, just the usual. We've got a council meeting tonight with nothing very interesting on the agenda. We're probably going to give Jim Morris a variance on his place... that's been in violation of the setback requirements since the zoning ordinance was passed. Pretty exciting stuff."
"Well, the house was where it is a long time before there was any zoning ordinance," Tom said.
"I know that, and you know that, and Walt knows that, and I know Mack knows that since he's the one that reported him," Leah winked at Mack, who had indeed called in the setback violation after losing to Jim at poker the night before his call. "But our 'attack zoning officer' didn't know that until he did all the research and he's just trying to make the law conform to reality."
"Gary says he's trying to make reality conform with the law, and I think he's right," Mack said.
"That's not for him to do," Leah said gently.
"Well, that's what he is doing, since you and Sherwood won't sit on him. I have half a mind to vote Sherwood out this time. He's been a mighty bad mayor," Mack said.
"Oh, who you gonna vote for, Colter? 'Let's go backwards faster, faster, fast as we can!'" Leah snorted.
"Well, there's always Will and Buford," Mack said defensively.
"Careful, there. You can only vote for one of them. Which is it going to be, a crazed drunken garbageman or a self-centered ass of an outfitter who keeps telling his customers that his competition once murdered a man for tying his fly wrong?" Leah pressed.
"I can always write in someone else," Mack said.
"Well, yes you can," Leah agreed.
"How about writing in me," Walt suggested merrily.
"You don't live in town or I would," Mack said.
"You know, this whole coffee group is just civics in action," Leah mused. "They should maybe just import the high school citizenship class down here every morning."
"What do you mean by that?" Mack said.
"Just that you guys all really know your stuff as far as how this town works and what's legal and how to get big stuff done and I don't think that goofball basketball coach who's teaching social studies up there has ever even been near a voting booth," Leah said.
"You've got a point," Walt said.
"Who's got a point?" Deirdre asked, sauntering to her customary chair, two down from Leah.
"Leah says we're 'civics in action,'" Walt said.
"Oh, you guys have been talking politics again. Big surprise," Deirdre said.
"Well, we started off talking about that new grocer, but then Mack got on my butt about how I didn't disclose his 'agenda' in my article about him and we sort of veered off course," Leah said.
"Agenda? He's the grocery man. His agenda is to sell groceries," Deirdre said.
"Thank you, Linda! That's what I said! He's just a regular guy who's been looking for a nice place to live and do business and he really likes what he's seen of Big Fittings," Leah said.
"Don't let Gary hear you say that. He already thinks it's some kind of fifth column Colorado plot," Deirdre said.
"Oh, where's Rex when he need him, so he can tell us whether our water supply is vulnerable to fluoridation! Protect our precious bodily fluids!" Leah cried out.
Deirdre stared at her for a moment before saying "You are way too young to remember that."
"Dr. Strangelove, darling. Dr. Strangelove," Leah said.
"You're way too young to remember that, too."
"Ah, but there's the movie channels on cable and there are VCRs and remember I went to a schwanky east coast college with a famous film school," Leah said.
Deirdre just smiled. "I thought you didn't have a TV."
"I don't. But I sometimes house sit for my parents, and –"
"And you use that as an excuse for TV orgies. I'm onto you, girlie."
"Yup!"
"Who's on who here," Rex demanded, swooping into the cantina and into his chair between the women.
"That's for us to know and you to wonder about," Leah said.
"Yeah," Deirdre said.
"Oh, I can wonder a lot," Rex said, grinning. "How you doing, Mickey Mack?"
"I'm all right, except Ambrose here just said she's going to give Jim that variance," Mack grumbled.
"You're still sore about that," Leah said in genuine shock. "Mack, the house should have been grandfathered and it was just overlooked. Really!"
"The law's the law," Mack said stubbornly.
"And a straight flush is a straight flush," Rex said. "Wyoming Alzheimer's at work, ladies and gentlemen!"
"What's Wyoming Alzheimer's? I'm still just a po' old Maryland girl," Deirdre said.
"We forget everything but the grudges," Leah said, smiling apologetically at Mack. "Really, Mack, what are we going to do, make him hire up a crew to move that old house 20 feet to the right? Thing would probably fall apart the second you hooked up a winch to it or whatever."
"Now that would be something to see, people trying to move a house with a winch," Rex laughed. "Stick to that there readin' and writin', schnookie. For all our sakes."
"No question about it," Leah said readily. "I never pretended to be anything else."
"So where's Gary this fine, frosty morning?" Rex asked.
"Off getting his ulcers checked, we think," Caleb said.
"Oh wow, has it really been a whole year since you let all that gas out of his line, Caleb?"
"Well, Macy's going on a year old next month, so yeah. Guess his check-up's early."
"Time flies, time flies," Rex said, sipping coffee. "Well, it's a good thing he's kept himself so calm so as not to make 'em worse, isn't it?"
"Heh, that's probably why his appointment's a month early," Walt said. "He's been about as calm as my head is hairy." Walt smoothed a hand across his bald dome.
The small group gathered for Wednesday morning coffee laughed heartily at that.
"Am I alone in really kind of worrying about him?" Leah asked.
"No, you're not," Rex said.
"I've been worrying about him since we were in grade school," Walt said.
"Me, too," Rex agreed.
"So he really has always been this paranoid?"
"Actually, he's mellowed out some," Rex said. "I remember right around the time we graduated and he was dead certain that Stan Hathaway was a Kruschev plant."
"Hathaway was a Republican," Leah said, surprised.
"Oh, he had some big theory proving his point. I don't remember the details. I think his wife – well, girlfriend, then – traced it back to his having a dream about Stan banging a cowboy boot on the table at a party or something. Gary... well, Gary used to drink a lot more than he does now."
"Oh yeah, 'Old age has done more to reform him than his mother, his wife or church ever could' and all that," Leah nodded.
"Amen to that," Tom said.
Rex just grinned. "My wife never once tried to reform me."
"Your wife," Walt declared, "Was too smart to try."
"That was my girl," Rex agreed. "She didn't try at all."
"Like Yoda," Leah snickered.
"Huh?" her companions said.
"You know, from Star Wars. 'Do, or do not. There is no try.'"
"Well... Yup. She laid down the law all right. And I just sidestepped it when it suited me," Rex said.
"And now..." Walt began.
"And now there's nothing to sidestep since she croaked on me," Rex said. "And that's that."
"Well, Leah bosses you around a lot," Mack pointed out.
"Well, Leah has some good advice for one so young," Rex, said, tousling her hair like he'd done when she was a child. "And she's none too cute when she's mad."
Leah simply raised an eyebrow at him.
"See? There she goes!" Rex laughed.
"So ANYWAY, we were TALKING about GARY," Leah harrumphed. "Did I tell you what he said on the street the other day about that Senator who died in that plane crash? He actually sounded like he believed it was the Majority Leader conspired to make that happen to preserve the balance in the Senate! I told him I was going to rush home and make him a tinfoil hat and he didn't even laugh at me, just kept right on roaring about it."
"He told me about that, too," Walt said. "I just chalked it up to his getting carried away again. Remember that time he went off for most of coffee about how Ranger Rick is actually a communist magazine for kids?"
"Well, it did make a lot of little tree huggers..." Rex said.
"But then you guys were able to straighten us out with some gopher hunts and bonfires and fishing trips," Leah said.
"And you didn't help matters, ma'am, when you asked him if he thought it was a coincidence that the Game and Fish wear red shirts," Rex scolded.
"True," Leah said. "It's just... so fun to egg him on sometimes."
"Just like it's fun to push your buttons, schnookie," Rex said.
"I know, I know, everybody gets a turn in the hot seat," Leah agreed.
"Hey, what time is it, somebody? I don't think that clock is right," Walt interrupted, squinting at the back wall.
"It's on bar time, Walt. About 15 minutes fast so they can chase the drunks out at night," Leah said.
"Of course you would know that," Walt grinned.
"Oh jeez, how many times have I fallen for that?" Leah whispered to Rex, who said nothing.
"It's really about ten of, Walt. Gotta be somewhere? Hot date?" Caleb asked.
"Oh, no, but this new kid I hired needs a lot of supervision. He's like Leah's dad: every time he picks up a tool he starts bleeding. My workman's comp insurance is going to skyrocket!"
"Well, since Gary isn't here, Rex –"
"Feh! Who says it always has to be me?"
"It's right there in invisible ink in our unwritten bylaws," Leah nudged.
"I thought you were going to write those down sometime," Rex nudged back.
"I am, sometime. I just haven't yet. So you have to take our word for it."
Rex nodded and took out a pen. "Gaze fondly into my eyes and pick today's number."
Leah gazed fondly into Rex's eyes, and smirked. "This never works, you know."
"That's not true, I got you once."
"Once," Leah agreed. "And how many times has it backfired on you?"
"More than once," Rex admitted.
"You should maybe quit trying to pick on Leah and you wouldn't have to buy coffee so often," Walt said.
"Say, is that why you always get nailed, Tom? Are you picking on Leah?" Caleb asked.
"Hush!" Rex said.
"You forgot to say 'Listen up,'" Caleb said.
"I don't have to say it, and I'm not gonna say it. One to 1000, Tom."
"511."
"511 is on the top, Walt."
"411."
"411 is on the bottom, Mack."
"400."
"400 is on the bottom, Caleb."
"405."
"405 is on the bottom, Schnookie."
"4...0...9," Leah grinned.
"That's a winner," Rex exulted. "You're playing with a pro now, Schnookie. Heh heh. Couldn't be sweeter if I'd planned it. Better write that down in your little Palm Pilot. And pick a letter."
"F."
Rex laughed and counted off the letters. "G, H, I, J, K, L, M... Oh shit."
"Heh hehe. Couldn't be sweeter if you'd planned it," Leah said.
"I don't care. I can afford it. The important thing is that I got you."

TUESDAY

Leah came crashing into a full house at the cantina. Rex got up and found her a chair, squeezing her seat in between his and her father's, while she knocked snow off her boots, hung up her hat and coat, and unwound herself from a long, hand-knit scarf.
"Woo! First snow of the year!" she called out cheerfully to the room.
"Yeah, and the weather guy got it all wrong. Wonder what he's up to," Gary groused.
"Same thing as the pollsters and the people on Meet the Press, I suppose," Rex said, seating himself again.
"Suzie, Leah needs a coffee cup," Gary growled in response. The waitress wandered into the kitchen to find one.
"What's up, pop?" Leah asked Kevin Ambrose as she sat down.
"Oh, nothing new. Got another asinine school trip tomorrow. That crazy math teacher thinks she needs to take the ninth grade to some contest thing. God forbid she runs 'em through an actual full day of school," Kevin muttered.
"Well, it pays for your trip to Vegas in December," Leah said brightly. "You guys and your basketball."
"Oh, are you going to the tournament, too?" Paul asked. "Damn it all if Gert and I don't go every year, and every year the Cowboys get humiliated. And so do we." Paul shook his head. "At least last time Gert won enough from a slot machine to pay for dinner."
"Marion only plays the nickel machines, so we can basically buy coffee," Kevin joked.
"What's she doing today, anyway? I thought she was going to come by the office," Leah asked.
"Your mother has discovered a new computer game and she hasn't come out of that room in three days. Fucking waste of time if you ask me," Kevin said.
"But watching obscure college football teams that you've never heard of isn't," Leah observed.
"Well, you've got to pass the time somehow."
"Give it up, Leah. It's football. You'll never get 'em off football. Not that that's a problem," Leah's friend Deirdre said from across the room. Deirdre had season tickets for the Maryland Terrapins, even though she lived in Wyoming and only made maybe one game a year. She'd always had Turtles tickets, and always would, she always said.
"Yeah, you're right. Hey, you guys mind if I bring someone new to coffee tomorrow? I had to ask before I forgot," Leah said.
"Depends on who it is, and if he's a good guesser or not. Can we stick him for coffee?" Walt asked.
"Oh, I imagine so," Leah said, settling in and accepting a cup from the waitress.
"Who is it?" Caleb asked.
"You'll see tomorrow," Leah said mysteriously.
"I bet she's bringing Buford!" Walt said.
"No, I bet she's bringing Will!" said Caleb.
"Which Will? Garrett or Colter?" asked Walt.
"Garrett, of course. You think Colter will ever come back after that time he got stuck three times in one week? Called us all cheating bastards and said that was the last we'd see of him. Then he came back when he had that asshole who was running for governor with him and we stuck the asshole!" Lee gloated from over his water glass.
"Which asshole was that?" Matt MacArthur asked.
"Oh, you weren't here, Matt," Walt said. "This guy really ticked off Leah and Rex when he started going on about how he's the only guy in the state who really understands school funding and knows how to fix the problems we've got. We thought Rex's head was going to explode."
"Must have been a Republican," Matt opined.
"Well, yes, but that was incidental," Rex said. "I have known a Republican or two in my day who wasn't an asshole... He just happened not to be one of them."
"Plus he's one of the guys who got us into this mess, so it's pretty annoying that he claims he's the one to get us out of it," Leah added.
"That, too," Rex nodded.
"Plus, he called me 'missie.'" Leah said.
"Oh gawd," Matt said.
"Gawd is right, you should have seen it," Kevin said, laying a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Gary had introduced her as our councilwoman, and this jackass starts blowing smoke up her ass about how municipal government is so important this and it's inspiring to see a young person in politics in this state that, and then –"
"And then Leah got on his ass about how he voted to de-earmark mineral revenues away from municipal governments when he was in the legislature!" Rex laughed.
"And he said she was too young to remember that, and he called her 'missie!'" Kevin exulted.
"Hoo shit! Did you rip him a new one, Leah?" Matt asked.
"No, she just reminded him that he'd met her at the press convention the previous year and promised her to her face that he'd never vote for de-earmarking and asked him why he flip-flopped and did it have anything to do with the deal he made with that guy from Sheridan to vote for his directory assistance bill," Paul said.
"Then his face turned very red and he shut up for a while and he didn't say another word until we ran the numbers and he won," Rex said.
"Remember, he accused us of cheating, too," Leah said.
"Oh yeah, he did. And then somebody – was it Roger? Where is Roger, anyway? – said that's what he got for cheating the towns out of sales tax revenue and then the asshole accused Will of setting him up and said he'd never come back to Big Fittings again," Paul concluded.
"God, that sounds great! What was the asshole's name?" Matt asked.
"It was... It was... well hell, this was two years ago... Russ... Russ..."
"Russ Carpenter," Leah said, tonelessly.
"Carpenter! Yeah. Didn't even get the nomination," Rex exulted.
"Yeah, but there's a punchline, if you recall. The asshole carried Big Fittings in the primaries," Leah said darkly.
"Guess it just shows we're not as easy to fool as the rest of town is," Gary spoke up for the first time.
"You're one to talk, you kind of liked him I thought," Lee said, eying Gary suspiciously.
"I like anyone who ruffles Rex's and Leah's and Deirdre's feathers," Gary said simply.
"I'll ruffle your feathers, Kane!" Deirdre said, flinging the crust of her toast at him. The toast missed Gary and sailed behind his chair, describing a magnificent arc through the air before landing between the bar's two dart boards, closely followed by 150 pounds of chocolate labrador retriever.
"Holy shit, is that Mark? He's getting big," Deirdre exclaimed. "Roger must be here!"
"Hey, it's the drool machine! And his dog, too," Leah said, grinning up at Roger as he emerged from the hallway.
"That gets funnier every time you say it, Leah. Maybe someday someone will actually laugh at it," Roger said, kissing Leah on the top of her head.
"Hope springs eternal," Leah said.
"Hey, Roger, where's my kiss?" Kevin said as Roger gave Deirdre a peck on the cheek before sitting next to her.
"I save my affections for my girlfriends and my sisters-in-law," Roger said sanctimoniously, "And last I checked you are neither."
"Well, I sure ain't one of your girlfriends," Kevin guffawed. "But I don't recall your asking permission to fool with my daughter."
"If he had to go asking permission for every time he was a fool he'd never get any work done, Dad," Leah said.
"Who says he gets any done?" Walt said.
"Hey now, no need to get personal," Roger said. "Mark! Mark, go git him!"
Maker's Mark, the registered lab Roger had bought at the last Ducks Unlimited auction, obediently lumbered over, water and spittle dripping from his jowls, and rested his head on Walt's lap.
"What a magnificently trained dog," Gary said. "You need to help me teach mine to do that."
"Teach? Teach? Labs pretty much do that from birth," Deirdre, who had a house full of the dogs, said.
"Yes, but Mark actually does it on command, and to whomever Roger says to," Gary said.
Mark looked adoringly up at Walt, who fed him a scrap of toast.
"So, what else has been going on while I was off in sunny Mexico, sippin' margaritas at 9 a.m. and wishing you all were here," Deirdre asked.
"Don't you mean 'wishing we all were there?'" asked Walt?
"No, I was pretty glad I was there and you were here," she said, obviously proud that her set-up had worked.
"Well, let's see... Gary still thinks that Will Garrett is right on about the leash law but says we should vote for Will instead of his chosen candidate," Walt began, pointing toward Gary, "Matt got pulled over by the highway patrol over in Laramie but the trooper let him off because he couldn't read his driver's license –"
"I showed him my Costa Rican one," Matt said, proudly. "Hey, it's still good."
"Um... Paul and Kevin are both planning to go to the big tournament in Las Vegas to watch the Cowboys lose again this winter..." Walt continued, "Leah and Rex's brother conned poor Bill, here," Walt patted Bill Greenwood on the shoulder, "into doing some kind of pro bono work for their committee... Rex still has some gutter shielding for sale if you need it, Caleb got mad at the phone company and disconnected his phone again, and Kevin is mad at some schoolteacher again."
"Well, aren't bus drivers always made at schoolteachers?" Deirdre said.
"Damn straight," Kevin said. "But we's just po' dum bus drivahs, massah. Where you wanna go, massah, I'm here to haul chillin' anywheahs you want, massah. Anything but havin' 'em in the classroom where they might accidentally learn somethin', right massah?"
"Oh, and Leah's met the new grocery guy but she won't tell us anything about it just to make sure we'll buy the newspaper tomorrow," Walt said.
"So I didn't miss TOO much, then," Deirdre concluded.
"Well, apart from Kevin's being mad at a teacher, no," Walt agreed.
"You forgot to tell her that Woodstock might finally have something to do, soon," Gary said.
"What?" asked Walt.
"When the grocer starts demanding soccer fields and brand new parks for his grandkids to play in the one month out of the year they're here," Gary said.
"Oh yeah. Well, if that in fact happens, then yes, Woodstock will be a busy boy," Walt agreed. "But we don't know that yet."
"Yeah, he'll probably find a way to get out of that, too," Gary grumbled.
"Hey! That wasn't really called for, was it?" Leah demanded.
"You know what he was doing this morning, Leah?" Gary said.
"I saw him driving a snowplow by my house," Caleb said.
"Mine too," Lee said.
"Mine too," Gary said. "What's the director of parks and recreation doing driving a snowplow?"
"Avoiding Millie," Rex laughed. Leah winced and laughed along with him before giving Gary his answer.
"It's there in his job description, Gary: 'And other duties as may be assigned by the mayor and council when necessary.' He couldn't exactly work on installing the playground equipment until the roads were clear enough to get to the park, could he?"
"Always got an answer for everything," Gary mused. "That's why I like you, Leah. You don't take shit from anybody. Well, not everybody anyway."
"Actually she takes quite a lot of shit, just not from you, Gary," Rex said.
"Oh, especially not with gallant gentlemen like you around to defend me," Leah said to Rex, and rolled her eyes.
"I do what I can, my dear," Rex said.
"Mark! Mark! Go git 'im," Leah said, pointing at Rex.
Mark looked at her dumbly and continued to rest his head in Walt's lap.
"You've got to at least look like you're throwing toast that way, Leah," Roger said.
Leah tried that.
"Well, not NOW. He's onto you now," Roger said.
"Aww, great."
"Mr. Kane, some of us have jobs to get back to, if you don't mind," Walt announced.
"Paul, give me some paper, please," Gary said. "All right, listen up, one to 1000."
With much grumbling about going back to Mexico and kidnapping Roger's dog, Deirdre split the morning's tab with her brother-in-law.

MONDAY

"Anybody meet that guy who bought the grocery store yet?" Gary Kane asked the room. Nobody answered him. Nobody, it seemed, had heard him; too many conversations were going on at once, as usual.
But then, across the massed tables, a finger went up, indicating that an answer might be forthcoming as soon as Leah Ambrose and Rex Wainwright finished their argument.
The finger stayed up for a while as Rex continued his narrative explaining why the concrete lining in the irrigation ditch that ran through town stopped at Bridge Street instead of at Main or Rochester. Rex enjoyed a good conspiracy theory as much as the next guy, but demanded that these be consistent with and inclusive of the facts – especially where family was concerned.
"I told you, Leah, my brother was the mayor then, and that's just where the town ran out of money. It's really that –"
"No, Rex, it wasn't your brother, it was Jim's uncle, whathisname, that retired pilot," Caleb Keith interrupted. "He was the mayor then. Your brother paved the alleys, remember? Downtown?"
"I know what my brother did, and you have it backwards," Rex countered. "The pilot's restaurant
rant always had trouble with delivery trucks getting stuck in the alley over there, remember? So he cut that clerk off at the knees, got rid of her town hall redecorating scheme and crap like that from the budget, ramrodded his amendment through and hired that idiot out of Colorado to come in September – September! – to pave the alleys."
"Oh yeah, I remember that guy..." Paul Black murmured into his coffee cup. "Had that Studebaker almost as old as mine..."
"Except he kept his in decent shape," Gary managed to chime in, somewhat impatiently. Leah's finger was still up in the air above her cup, but he couldn't catch her eye to get an answer to his question. Soon it would be lost altogether...
Paul laughed a little ruefully to himself, gulped a swallow of coffee, then, suddenly, slammed his palm down on the table.
"DUNCAN!" he roared.
"What the – Oh yeah, you're right." Mack Cobb agreed.
The rest of the group stared quizzically at Paul and Mack. Even Walt Gibson and his father-in-law, Tom Peters, had stopped their private chat about Walt's latest hilariously incompetent hire.
"Who in the hell is Duncan?" Gary enunciated at last, blinking emphatically.
"The pilot that was mayor then. Duncan!" Paul said triumphantly. Then he seemed to back down a bit. "Duncan... Duncan... Give me a minute, I'll think of the whole name. He wasn't mayor for that long. Got appointed at the end of old Gordie's term. I only interviewed him a few times..."
"I always called him Duncan Hines," Walt grinned.
"Yeah, we all did," Paul said, nodding vigorously.
A silent moment or two went by as the group sipped coffee, nibbled toast, and pondered the true last name of Mayor Duncan "Hines."
"Remember that one issue of the paper when Paul's wife actually called him that in her article?"
"YES!" Rex roared. "That was funnier than shit. I remember it very well. It was an article about when Duncan POTTER – that was his name! –"
"Yeah, Potter! Jim's uncle, like we said," Paul interrupted.
"Hush!" Rex demanded. "About when Mayor Duncan Potter/Hines yah yah told the clerk to go get stuffed and like it because he was paving the alleys and she could go make doilies if she thought the chairs in town hall were ugly." Rex jabbed a finger in Leah's direction as he said this, and shook it as if to say "aha!"
"You sure that wasn't your brother who said that, Rex?" a voice came from the doorway. Lee Meyer hung up his hat and sat down in his usual seat next to Caleb.
Leah's laughter nearly drowned out Rex's reply.
"No, no, no. Potter paved the alleys. My brother lined the ditch. Help me out, Paul – remember the stink that columnist of yours tried to raise because my brother's boss was a part owner of the ditch company?"
"Oh yeah," Paul said. "She high-tailed it out of town not long after that. Too bad. Good proofreader. But hey, I thought you guys were talking about the Ridgeway ditch out on the Samson place. Everybody knows Big Brother Teddy lined the ditch in town. At least until he ran out of money."
"JEE-sus, Paul, you make me wish I still smoked!" Rex said, throwing his hands up in the air.
Leah ducked, then gave him a patronizing pat on the shoulder. "Well, I always believed you, sweetie."
"Then why'd you start in with all of those leading questions about Kelley Ables and her stupid wetlands?" Rex said, agog. "YOU make me wish I still smoked, too."
"Oh really? When exactly did you quit?" Leah asked quietly.
"Hush!" he told her.
"Well, anyway, I wasn't asking any leading questions. I was simply relating a humorous anecdote about what a drunk said to me in the bar last night," Leah said in a more audible tone.
"Which bar? This one?" Paul cut in. "Was it that Buford guy your boyfriend wants everyone to write in for mayor? God, that guy is a nut."
"Which guy? Buford or Will?" Caleb chuckled.
"Leah has a boyfriend?" Rex blurted out. Then he turned to Leah beside him with a high-wattage smile. "Do tell, schnookie. Who is it? Jack Daniels? Johnnie Walker?"
The group laughed its approval of Rex's witticism; Leah had managed to drink most of them under the table at least once over the years, and had the temerity never to show up for coffee with a hangover.
"You forgot Arthur Guiness." Leah stuck her tongue out.
"Oh. My mistake, ma'am," Rex said.
"So what's this about Leah and Buford, now?" Walt asked, dropping his side conversation again, leaving Mack in mid-utterance about the state of his rain gutters.
The table erupted again in mocking laughter – whether it was directed at Walt or at Leah was anyone's guess.
"Just promise me you won't have any kids," Gary groused when his friends quieted down again. "Or is it too late?"
"Oh, it's far too late, Gary. We're naming the first one after you," Leah said, patting her belly. "I do hope you'll accept it for the honor it is!"
"What the – Leah, dammit, that is not funny. You had me believing –" the rest of Gary's outburst was drowned out in another round of boisterous laughter.
"So hey, Paul," Leah said when things quieted down again. "Who is really supposed to be my 'boyfriend' these days? I'm always the last to know."
"Yeah, you know what she always likes to say, guys," Rex said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Leah is always happy when someone's gossiping about her, because it means she's still interesting."
Leah swatted at her friend's hand. "Hey, that's my line!"
"Well you know, Leah," Paul began. "You're always spouting off about that yay-hoo who keeps putting in those ads in the paper making fun of you guys on the council and saying to vote for Buford for mayor. You know what they say about protesting too much."
"Oh, Leah, not HIM," Mack said in what appeared to be genuine shock.
"No, Mack, honey, not him," Leah reached across Rex's lap to pat Mack's hand. "I'm still your best girl. Except for all your other girls."
"Shh!" Mack said with a wink.
"So hey, did we finally figure out who that contractor was?" Paul asked after a brief lull. "I remember it being a really funny name. Leah? What company was it screwed up everything while they were paving those alleys?"
"You expect me to know?" Leah asked.
"It was right by your folks' house. They managed to cut out the power."
"That was in like the 70s or something, right?"
"Yeah. '79, I think. Or was it the sewer line they cut?"
"Not the sewer," Rex interjected. "That neighborhood was still on septic tanks then."
"Only here would I find someone who would know that," Leah said to Rex, shaking her head and taking a sip.
"Come on, Leah," Paul continued. "You've got to know this. It was your house!"
"Paul –"
"Your dad was raging about it for weeks. Almost got Bill Greenwood to help him sue them. Too bad neither of them is here to help you, Leah, you getting senile a little early or something? Or smoke too much of that wacky tabacky?"
"Paul, I was nine years old in '79."
"So?"
"NINE."
"So?"
"NINE."
"Old enough to be paying attention to that sort of –"
"NINE. I was falling off monkey bars back then. Jumping rope. Playing tag. Shooting gophers. NINE."
"You and that son of mine never played a game of tag in your lives," Gary told her.
"Details, details," Leah dismissed him, still looking across at Paul.
"Details matter, Madam Reporter. Madame Councilwoman. Details is your life now, my dear," Gary replied.
"Okay, no tag," Leah agreed, waving her hand as if to shoo him away.
"Don't recall you bookworms jumping a lot of rope, either," Gary needled further.
"Gary! I'm trying to make a point here!" she retorted.
"What point is that? Though I'll grant you the gophers. You were brought up right, after all. Can't vouch for what you've done since then, but you were brought up right."
"Ooh, good thing Kevin isn't here to hear that," Rex chortled.
Leah ignored that last remark, and addressed Gary again, slowly and carefully. "I was trying to explain to Paul, here, that when I was NINE I didn't pay much attention to things like paving contractors."
"You still don't, from the looks of things," Paul said indignantly. "What about –"
"Hush, Paul. We've been over that," Leah said. "If your nephew was dumb enough to let some gypsy freak knock on his door and charge him – how much was that again? – to pave his driveway, and dumb enough to pay this guy UP FRONT, he's got bigger problems than a muddy driveway. If he'd hired a REAL paver that was bonded and insured and, I don't know, LOCAL, he wouldn't even have THAT problem anymore, would he? Oh, and he wouldn't have spent as much money! And he'd actually have some asphalt on his driveway! My, my, my! Anyway, none of this is the Town's fault..."
"Hee hee! Some people have buttons to push – Leah's got a whole keyboard!" Rex said.
"Hush!," Leah poked her friend in the sternum, then turned back to Paul and Gary. "Gary, didn't you have a question a minute ago?"
"Huh? Did I?"
"Something about the new grocer?"
"Oh yeah. I was just wondering if anybody had met him yet."
"Way to change the subject, schnookie," Rex whispered to Leah.
"What subject was that," she inquired, innocently.
"You're learning," he whispered back with a grin.
"I hear he's from Colorado," Lee said, shaking his head sadly. "Another one."
"Does he have any kids?" Walt asked. "Didn't we start checking for kids at the border?"
"Walt, we want kids. We need kids. Our school enrollment is down," Gary began, carefully.
"I know that! That's why we're checking at the border, right? Can't move here if you don't have kids, that's the way it ought to be. Leah, you'd better pass an ordinance about that."
"Oh, I'll get right on that, Walt. I'll make it nice and constitutional," she agreed.
"Very funny," Gary said.
"More likely he has grandkids," Lee continued as if he hadn't heard them. "If he's moving here. Grandkids still in Colorado, but they're going to want to come up here for the summer and he's going to start crying for a soccer field or a field hockey program or some godawful expensive thing to keep 'em busy. We've seen it all before."
"So he won't have to deal with them himself," Gary agreed, grouchily. "'Cause you know that's what the city government is for. Oh well," he continued, fixing Leah with a look, "At least Woodstock will finally have a way to earn his keep."
"Hey, Woodstock has plenty to do keeping that swimming pool open and installing all that playground equipment Lee's wife and her buddies screamed about for so long. He's totally earning his keep," Leah said.
"Keyboard!" Rex piped up again.
"Shaddap!" Leah whacked his shoulder.
"You two are better than TV," Walt observed.
"Thank you," Rex and Leah said, then broke into giggles.
"Well, you know this new guy's going to be all over Woodstock's ass anyway," Lee continued, warming further to his theme. "He'll want doggie parks and indoor swimming pools and a leash law and –"
"We already have a leash law," three or four of Lee's companions reminded him.
"I know, but you know what I mean. And he'll start wanting fancy beer in the bars –"
"He can't be pickier than Leah and Rex," Gary interrupted. "What's that shit you're always asking for, Leah?"
"Xingu!" she said.
"Brazilian Black Beer!" Rex chimed in.
"Makes Guiness look like bathwater!" Leah said.
"And bathwater look like Coors!" Rex finished.
"Yeah, that shit," Gary said. "The liquor commission doesn't have it. Nobody has it. I think you have been smoking that wacky tabacky, Leah. As for Rex, well, there never was much hope for Rex..."
Leah took a deep breath to respond, but Rex stopped her, grinning and murmuring "Keyboard." Leah fell silent and tuned back in to Lee's evangelical diatribe.
"And he'll want lattes at coffee, and he'll want his steak cooked with herbs and..."
"You know, before we start greasing the rail to ride him out of town on, does anyone care to hear from someone who has actually met him?" Leah asked.
"No," Lee said.
"You have?!?" Gary said.
"Hell yeah!" Rex and Paul said.
"Who?" Tom said.
"I'm with Lee," Caleb said.
Walt and Mack were deep in a discussion of Mack's gutters and ignored the outbursts. Were they about to come to blows? Nobody else cared.
"Of course I have," Leah answered Gary. "I interviewed him yesterday for the newspaper."
"Well, what's his deal? Is he as bad as Lee says?" Gary asked, eagerly.
"I don't think Lee has met him yet," Leah began, but then Rex interrupted her.
"Wait and read the paper," he said. "It's no fun if you already know what's in it. You have to read the paper."
Leah looked bemusedly at her friend, then said, "Well, yeah. Read the paper Wednesday, Gary."
"I only read the paper to see Will Garrett's ads," Gary said. "He got you pretty good last week, Leah."
"Oh, you mean the thing about the 'dogs of Bridge Street'? Um, you know, Gary, all those dogs are still in the businesses, just like I wrote about last year. None of them have been removed. So isn't that maybe a little disingenuous? Maybe even an obvious lie that shows what a loon Garrett really is? I know," Leah said, swatting at Rex, "Keyboard."
"Well, anyway, what's the point of having you at coffee if we don't get the inside scoop," Gary said to her, leaning back and folding his hands over his belly in satisfaction.
"Her sparkling wit and scintillating conversation," Rex said, putting his hand back on her shoulder.
"Feh!" Leah said, then "It's not about what benefits you, it's all about me. Gotta get my story tips somewhere."
"She's got a point," Walt piped up.
"Dammit, Walt, what are you going to do about my gutters," Mack said querulously.
"You haven't told me what's wrong with them yet," Walt said.
"I been telling you this whole time!" Mack yelled.
"Oh, well, I've been listening to Gary and Leah. You've got to admit they're more fun. Anyway, sorry. I'll come take a look at them after coffee."
"You should see them," Mack told the room. "They're so full of leaves they're pretty much useless."
"Mack, you silly bastard, I told you to get some of that gutter shielding when I had it on sale at the store this summer," Rex said, shaking his head and staring down into his cup. "But I've still got some if you want to come take a look. Friend price, of course."
"You really should get some," Caleb added. "I put some on at my house this summer, this wire mesh stuff..." Caleb held up his hands and began to fold his fingers into a complex pattern.
Leah watched him and laughed quietly, murmuring "This is the church, this is the steeple..." until Rex grabbed her leg and hissed at her to stop through his own giggles.
"Huh?" Caleb asked. "Anyway, it keeps the leaves and stuff out just fine. Just knock the leaves off the wire with a garden hose. It's great stuff."
"So anyway, Leah, what's this new guy like?"
"And does he have kids?" Walt asked.
"She told you, read the paper tomorrow," Rex grinned.
"The paper never tells the whole story. Just a bunch of bullshit," Gary said.
"I beg your pardon!" Leah said, pretending to get up.
"Except for your stuff, of course, Leah," Gary amended. "But you know that idiot editor of yours always cuts off the bottom."
"Whether the sentence is finished or not," Walt agreed.
"True, true," Leah agreed. "But I'm still not going to tell you!"
"That's my girl!" Rex said.
"No, didn't you hear? I'm Buford's girl," Leah teased.
"I thought you were Mack's girl," Tom said.
"One of the dozens," Mack grinned.
Gary grunted and dug a pad of note paper from Paul's shirt pocket, brandishing a pen as he did.
"All right, people, listen up! One to one thousand!"
The group sat at attention as the morning ritual began.
"511" Tom said.
"One to 511," Gary intoned.
"Oh, how about 411," Walt, seated at Tom's right, said.
"One to 411," Gary intoned.
"Hmmm... 611," Caleb, seated at Walt's right, said.
"I said one to 411," Gary warned.
"Oh," Caleb laughed. "Um..."
"Oh, you know what he's going to say. Just say it," Paul teased.
"How about 311," Caleb finally guessed.
"One of these days it's going to be an 11 and you clowns are going to be sorry," Leah said.
"Hush!" Gary said. "One to 311 to you, Rex."
Ever theatrical, Rex looked over at Leah as he guessed.
"Hmph. Too much wiggle room today to 'git' you," he said.
"Oh, go ahead and try," she retorted.
"309" Rex said.
"One to 309, Leah," Gary intoned.
"Damn!" Rex said.
"Nice try, schnookie," Leah smirked. Then she turned her attention back to the rest of the group. "Um... 200."
"One to 200," Gary intoned.
"111" Lee, seated at Leah's right, said, stifling a giggle.
"One to 111," Gary intoned.
"109," Paul, seated at Lee's right, guessed.
"That's a – Oh shit," Gary said, looking down at the paper where he'd secretly written the magic number. "That's not a winner. I'll buy. Dammit, Paul, you're not allowed to sit there anymore. Pick a letter."
"Oh, how about 'G' for 'Gary'," Paul said, rubbing it in.
Gary counted off the letters for each player in turn. "H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q" he said at last, landing on Tom.
"Aw, poor Tom, how many times have you gotten stuck this month," Lee asked.
"Oh, it's no big deal, it's Uncle Sam's money anyway," Tom said cheerfully, digging for his wallet.
"So wait," Leah said, pulling out her Palm Pilot, "The number today was 110? And the letter was –?"
"Q," Gary said, showing her the notepad.
"Thank you," Leah said, entering the numbers.
"What ARE you doing, writing down what won?" Gary asked.
"Our Leah is running a sophisticated statistical analysis of the winning numbers and letters at this coffee group and the 6 a.m. group over at the gas station," Rex said. "She doesn't think the selection process is random."
"Well of course they're not random," Gary said. "I make them up. Or you do, if I'm not here."
"Yes, but she's interested in just how not random they are," Rex explained in a mock-scholarly tone. "We will all know much more about how our own rituals and habits work when she's done. She may publish in an important journal someday, and we'll be famous. We'll go down in history as –"
"Leah's monkeys," Leah cut in.
"Leah's monkeys. It will be a signal honor." Rex agreed.
"Say, how come you're always answering for Leah?" Caleb asked. "How do you know so much about what she's up to?"
"Because I read her weblog," Rex declared. "I read it every day. She has no secrets. But only if you read it every day."
"Phooey," Gary said, returning the notepad to Paul.
Amidst a muddle of hats and coats, the group began to disperse for the morning.