then snapped forward again when they came to some tricky curves in the road.
“Keep going, Dad.”
“Wasn’t there also some suspicion the butler did it, or in this case the innkeeper?” Bob asked.
“Right you are—Shannon Fraser, the owner of Mowat Lodge. Sixty years after Tom’s death, one of the last survivors of that time swore her friend Annie Fraser, who was Shannon’s wife, confessed to her that her husband had murdered Tom in an argument over money.”
Dani’s eyes grew big. “Wow!”
“And after his body was discovered there were a number of very suspicious facts and events that came to light that are still puzzling.”
“Like what?” Caitlin asked.
John checked yet again in the mirror to make sure his newly interested listeners weren’t pulling his leg. “He had a wound on his right temple as though he’d been struck by a paddle or some other blunt object. His favourite ash paddle was never found, and there was fishing line wrapped around his left ankle sixteen times for no apparent reason. Strangest of all, Tom’s constant companion, a sixteen-foot grey-green chestnut canoe, vanished into thin air sometime after they found his body.”
“Dad, how in the world do you know all this stuff?”
John chuckled. “Oh, guys just know certain things.”
“Didn’t you just read about it yesterday in that book Dani got you for your birthday?” Bob asked.
The talking dad looked at the asking dad with sad eyes, sort of the way Nikki did when he accomplished something particularly clever and nobody noticed.
“Oh, yeah,” Dani said thoughtfully. “But I thought that book was about mysterious rock formations and junk like that. I didn’t know it had interesting stuff like unsolved murders.”
“Murder’s not supposed to make you so happy, Dani,” Caitlin said.
“I’m not happy,” Dani said, trying to hide her excitement. “I’m just kind of interested, that’s all.”
Caitlin giggled. “Oh, sure, Detective Dani.”
John tried to recapture the sweet sensation of finally having a fully attentive audience. “Of course, the Ottawa Valley was best known in its early pioneering life for its lumber industry, something few people think about these days. And in truth there really is very little to mark its passing as you drive or boat along the river valley…”
Dani’s dad made yet another quick inspection of the back seat to see how he was doing. Nikki continued blissfully unaware in La La Land; Caitlin allowed her eyes to droop as her face gripped the window glass and she drifted once again toward the bottom of the well on a big puffy pillow; Dani wrote ferociously in her journal and smacked her gum, preparing for yet another attempt at the record.
With a grin, and in his deepest radio voice, Bob said, “I’m listening.”
John groaned and focused his attention completely on the road for the first time that day. The van climbed and passed St. Mary’s Church. The Ottawa River, favoured among rafters because of its thundering whitewater, was flanked by luscious farm fields and the odd gnarly oak tree. The scene, under the noon sun and cumulous clouds, looked as it might have a hundred years ago—not that the girls took any notice. Descending toward Barry’s Bay, they motored under ancient pine tress. Colossal columns of sunshine and shadow filtered through the van. Dani’s dad whistled through slightly bared teeth, then said, mostly to himself, “What really holds their attention is a complete and utter mystery to me.”
2 Are We Having Fun Yet?
After several false starts, the dads managed to build a campfire that didn’t immediately go out. The two skinny men slapped each other on the back, coughing and rejoicing at having created a steady source of smoke.
“How come they didn’t put the bark and kindling under the logs an hour ago?” Dani asked.
Caitlin shrugged. “Let’s face it, dads are weird.”
“Yeah, I know, but my dad always tells me how important it is do something right the first time.”
“And my dad always tells me how important it is to do research for school projects,” Caitlin added.
Nikki’s delicate howl cut into the conversation and through the forest.
“I wonder if our dads researched bringing a dog to Algonquin Park when we talked about leaving Nikki in the kennel,” Dani said, pointing to a sign on a wooden post Nikki was leaning against to support his afternoon siesta.
The girls looked up at a large X through a happily bounding beagle.
“Oh-oh!” Caitlin said as Nikki planted his chin in the dirt and snorted satisfaction at his lot in life.
“Dad!” Dani cried.
Dani’s dad pivoted, a perplexed look on his face, something he always had whenever his daughter used that tone of voice.
The two men walked away from their smoky source of pride and stood for the longest time, slowly moving their heads from Nikki to the sign and back.
“Oh,” John simply said.
“Well, what should we do?” Bob countered.
“Um, well, the right thing to do is… that is…” Dani’s dad scratched the side of his face while balancing first on one leg, then the other. “Of course, in fairness to park rules, and then again, there is Nikki to consider…”
“How about if Caitlin and I take care of hiding Nikki?” Dani offered.
John scrunched his face, mulling over various options, then exhaled. “Okay.”
After that the dads stepped back to the source of smoke and said something about perfecting the fire before going on their run.
“Why do you think our dads take running so seriously, Dani?” Caitlin asked.
“’Cause if they don’t run, they feel guilty for a week.”
Caitlin made her face and neck tense. “‘If we don’t run today, civilization will cease to exist!’”
Dani giggled. “‘But, of course, girls, if you’d like to do something special, well, then, darn it, I can miss a run. Really, I don’t mind!’” But Dani’s laugh soon disappeared. “I guess Dad forgot about taking us swimming. He’s a great dad…” Dani rubbed her chin. “But sometimes he kind of has the same thing he says Nikki has. You know—ADD, attention-deficit-dog order.” She pouted as Nikki howled a truly piercing beagle serenade, which echoed through the pines and across the lake.
Caitlin sniggered. “Well, it’s nice to know Nikki’s opera lessons are paying off.” Then she sighed. “My dad’s the same. The world would come to an end if he didn’t run, but if the world was really coming to an end, he’d probably just go for a run. Oh, well, maybe they’ll relax this week and smell the pinecones,
