Constable Molly Smith 01 - In the Shadow of the Glacier

up?
    “What paper are you with, Mr. Ashcroft?”
    “Please, call me Rich. May I call you Lucky? I’d love to know the story behind that name. Is it what your parents christened you?”
    “My legal name is Lucy. Many, many years ago, I was in the drama club at the University of Washington.”
    “My sister went there. I wasn’t so lucky. Oops, that wasn’t meant to be a pun.” He grinned at her, and she found herself smiling back.
    “I was second string.” She hesitated, but Ashcroft was looking at her with interest, as if he wanted to hear the story, and so she drifted into memories. Of when she was young, and the world was electrified with the possibility of change, and she’d been head-over-heels in love with a math major with radical opinions by the name of Andy Smith. “Just a stand-in. But the lead actor in
The Glass Menagerie
caught a dreadful cold the day of our opening. She could barely breathe, never mind project. So I took her place. And for some strange reason, I was a hit. So they called me Lucky, and it stuck.” Andy Smith had been in the audience that night, leaping to his feet and cheering when Lucy Casey took her bows. “Lucky Lucy. Lucy Lucky,” her castmates had chanted when the final curtain fell. “Lucky Smith,” Andy said later as they watched the lights of the city twinkling in the distance. Then he’d told her that he’d received his draft notice and was going to Canada. He wanted her to come with him. She had never acted again.
    “You’re interested in the Commemorative Peace Garden?” she asked.
    “It’s an incredible story. After all these years, you people are still looking for approval.”
    A warning bell rang in the back of Lucky’s mind.
You people?
“The garden isn’t about
us.
It’s a memorial to everyone who’s stood up to oppose war. Many at great cost to themselves.”
    “I have a cameraman due in town soon, and if we act fast I can get this story out tomorrow. Prime time. So why don’t we….”
    “Cameraman? You mean a photographer?”
    “Yeah, a fellow who takes pictures. He’s good, one of the best. He’ll do your face justice.”
    Lucky looked at Meredith. “The local media covered this story in depth. Why the renewed interest?”
    “Rich isn’t…” Meredith said.
    “I’d like to talk to you at the place where the garden’s going to go. Get some visual background. Seven okay, Lucky?”
    “Sorry, but it isn’t. The death of Reginald Montgomery has changed the dynamics a bit, so the committee’s meeting at my house at seven. Tomorrow morning?”
    “You’re getting together tonight? That’s a perfect opportunity. How about I bring my photographer around and interview you all at once? The
Daily Gazette
has your address, right?”
    “It’s in the phone book.”
    “How about seven thirty, then. Hey, I’ve had a great idea. Let’s make my visit a surprise, Lucky.”
    “Why?”
    “You know what people are like soon as they think their face’ll be on TV. Or in the papers. They’ll come all dressed up, and look unnatural. I want to get the feel of a real salt-of-the-earth, middle-America planning committee.”
    “This is Canada.”
    He laughed. Lucky didn’t like his laugh; she couldn’t see much, if any humor in it. “I meant,” he said, “America as in the generic North America sense.”
    “You said you’re from B.C. right?”
    He stood up. “I’m looking forward to this, Lucky. We can do a great story.”
    And he left, Meredith following with such enthusiasm that Lucky wondered why a tail wasn’t wagging on her skinny behind.
    She snatched up the first piece of paper that came to hand and fanned herself again. Why was the
Daily Gazette
treating this as if it were a new story? The whole thing had been hashed out for months. It was so damned hot. How could she think straight when she was so hot?
    “Lucky.” Duncan stuck his head into her office. “Someone from the police is here. He wants to talk to you, about when you left work yesterday. It’s not Molly.” His voice was tinged with disappointment, and Lucky hid a smile. Duncan was obviously smitten with Moonlight, and Moonlight blind to anything but her police career. It might be up to Lucky to do something about setting them both straight.
    ***
    Ruth Tyler was delighted to receive visitors from the police. Sergeant John Winters had been the subject of gossip ever since he’d moved to town. Involved in the infamous Sanders case, it was said. So handsome, and