The rest of the week went by quickly, filled with store inventory, accounting, vetting potential handymen to work on the lodge, and going on the occasional horseback rides with Sophie. These last felt to Robert like an intrusion on time that could be spent in more productive ways, like poring over the map of USS telecommunication lines that his friend in Santa Fe had sent him. But since it had once been unsafe for girls to go alone into the woods, he would go with her until he felt sure that she would not be in danger.
One day he took her to see the old family house on the mountain slope. This was as much to satisfy his own curiosity as to show Sophie a trail she could use. The sleek multi-level home had partially collapsed and Robert was startled and slightly disturbed to see moss and tiny saplings growing out of what had once been the living room carpet. Sophie, of course, found it fascinating. She pointed to birds’ nests in the gutters and exclaimed softly over a fox and her kits who had made a home in what was left of the kitchen. That had been a fun afternoon for her.
But finally Saturday came and now there were two decisions to be made: whether they would go to church the next day, and whether Sophie would start school the day after that. Neither of them was particularly religious and their Castaño options were limited to the old Catholic church near the chestnut grove, or a tiny storefront that had once been a snowboarding shop and now advertised itself as God’s Holy Trumpet Congregation of New Life.
“Do we have to go to church?” Sophie asked as they discussed the matter over breakfast. “Back home we only went if they were having a picnic.”
“We don’t have to go,” Robert assured her, “But it may be a good idea. It’s a way to get involved in the community. And there are certain types of people who will think badly of you if you aren’t a regular churchgoer.”
For a moment, Sophie’s face screwed up as if she was going to pout, but then she suddenly grinned. “I can’t go to church. I don’t have any dresses.”
“I hope you don’t plan to use that argument to get out of going to school, because it’s not going to work.”
Sophie shrugged and said nothing.
Robert considered and decided that church was the lesser of the two battles he needed to fight with her. And since it was the one he was least concerned about winning, he agreed that they would not go to church. “But you will go to school on Monday.”
“Fine,” Sophie said in a tone that made it clear that it wasn’t fine at all.
Robert didn’t correct her tone of voice, and went back to eating his eggs. He had done well to get even this far with her, so for now he was satisfied.
That afternoon they picnicked under the old ski lifts and ate so many sandwiches and cookies that neither had any appetite at supper time. So they had apple pie instead, made with last season’s dried local apples, and baked by a round cheerful woman who lived two blocks from the store and ran an informal bakery out of her home. Then while Sophie fiddled with nails and bits of wood, trying to make a frame for one of her crayon horse drawings, Robert pored over his financials some more.
Then suddenly he saw it: a two hundred USS dollar payment made every month to Alejandro Gonzalez, one of the locals who left town each month to trade with the outside world. That Norma, and before him Arthur, should be paying him wasn’t the surprise. What bothered him was that it was a payment that he couldn’t align to any of the store’s regular purchases, all of which he had been able to tie back to inventory, past or present. He searched the account book for similar transactions, but could hardly think for all the racket Sophie was making.
“Could you please do that quietly?”
A few moments later, Sophie appeared at the doorway wearing a puzzled frown. “How do you hammer quietly?”
“What?” Robert looked up. He had been so engrossed in his find that he hardly remembered what he told her, and he was annoyed to find that she was now standing in the doorway expecting a response of some kind. “What did you say?”
“I asked how to hammer quietly. Will you show me?”
“You can’t hammer quietly,” he said in exasperation. “Take your project upstairs or better yet, to the lodge.”
“Okay.” The girl slipped away and Robert returned to his work, excited now. Should he question Norma about this expense? If she had something to hide, it was unlikely she would tell the truth, and she would be sure to cover her tracks more carefully in the future. Should he talk to some of his other staff? It was a good idea in terms of possible information, but a bad social experiment. If Robert started pitting his employees against each other, it would only cause him trouble down the road. They needed to feel like they could trust each other. Robert, as their boss, was the only exception to the rule.
The only option left was to speak to Alejandro himself. Robert wracked his brain, trying to remember something – anything about the man, but came up short. Perhaps he was one of the younger generation. They didn’t remember him, and he returned the favor. Alejandro could surely answer Robert’s questions about why the store was paying him $200 USSDs each month. And if he refused to tell, well, there was precious little paid work in Castaño these days, and he could always tell the man his services were no longer required. If that didn’t inspire him to come clean, that was okay, too. Whatever Norma was buying each month must be important to someone, and he would find out soon enough just who it was.
Now I'm wondering if it might be a shake down.
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