for enough years.”
“Well, she doesn’t appear to be there.”
“She could just be out shopping.”
“I don’t think so. I tried all last night. And this morning from nine o’clock on.”
“Hmmm, well, I’m kind of busy now trying to find out what kind of knots were used on Mitzi. Once I find out, I could look into why Alexa isn’t answering her phone. In the meantime, I guess you could say I’m tied up.”
“Reef knots. Some people call them square knots.”
“What kind of people use square knots?”
“Sailors and boy scouts among others,” he chuckled.
“Thanks. Oh, and Conn, I just remembered. Alexa’s spending a couple of days opening up her cottage. Too bad she doesn’t have an answering machine.”
“Oh, thanks a lot.”
I could feel the chill on the line.
“Think nothing of it,” I said.
For my next phone call, I had to pinch my nose to change the sound of my voice. First, I found Manon Bruyère’s telephone number in the government telephone book.
“This is Mabel Hubley calling from the Headquarters of the Girl Guides of Canada. We’re double-checking our list of famous former guides. Can you tell me if Ms. Goodhouse is one?”
“Well, of course, she is. You must know that. She’s been on your Board of Directors.”
Oops.
Manon’s voice changed. “Wait a minute. Who did you say you were?”
But it was too late. I had what I needed.
* * *
I was alone in the office, planning my next coup, when Ted Beamish knocked. It was time to close up for the day and I’d sent Alvin off to the public library to get some books on knots. I’d made him promise to borrow them officially.
“Hi,” Ted said.
“Hi,” I answered, wondering why he was there.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure, why not?”
He settled into the chair, placing his briefcase on the floor and loosening his tie with the little palm trees.
“Just on my way home from the office and I thought I might check to see if you wanted to try that movie tonight.
And bring your friend.”
“Robin’s not in shape for a movie.”
“Oh.” Disappointment flashed across his face. I swear all the little palm trees on his tie drooped a bit.
“She’s a bit slow getting over finding Mitzi’s body. And the police are hassling her.”
He looked like a little red-headed kid whose popsicle had melted too fast.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll talk to her about the movie. Maybe that’ll cheer her up a bit and speed the recovery.” I beamed at him, hoping he’d leave me alone.
“Sure,” he said.
“I’m sure she’ll want to go the minute she gets the old pep back.”
“Right.”
“No, I mean it.” I had no idea of how she’d react to the three of us going out to a movie. But I had an overwhelming urge to protect him.
“Okay. Do you think I could drop in with you and maybe help to cheer her up?”
I could just imagine what would happen if Robin discovered I’d brought one of Ottawa’s rare available bachelors to see her with her hair in strings and her feet in pigs.
“I’m afraid she’s sedated. Not allowed any visitors except family. They make me sit in the living room, and they relay my messages to her whenever she regains consciousness.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me.
“But I could go to the movie with you later. We could even grab a hamburger or something.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Hadn’t he been the one who jumped the gun about asking me to a movie? And here I was pleading with him to make it happen. And all because I didn’t want the little jerk to look sad.
“I guess so,” he said.
“Good. Good. Good. Good. Well, I’ll give you a call as soon as I get home.” I stood up and slipped into my jacket, hoping he’d get the hint. “You’d better give me your phone number.”
* * *
Brooke arrived from Toronto just after I settled in at the Findlays’.
“Surprise,” she said as she swept into the room, trailing garment bags.
I was surprised all right. Surprised it had taken her six days to manage the five hour drive from her Toronto penthouse.
We all looked up from the chocolate chip cheesecake muffins Mr. F. had just served.
With the exception of me, everyone switched into “Brooke’s here” mode, rustling about, fussing. Fetching her a chair, then a cushion for the chair, then a glass of wine and cup of coffee. Fretting because the coffee couldn’t be cappuccino. Trying to tempt her with the muffins.
Brooke leaned back, stretched out her mile-long legs and lit a cigarette.
“So many things are happening. I’ve been so frantic. I can’t wait to tell you all the news.”
They leaned forward in anticipation. Mrs. Findlay with the same expression she uses to watch the soaps. Mr. Findlay with a tray of mixed baked goods he’d assembled for Brooke. Robin still in the pink pig slippers. In fact, Robin hadn’t taken her eyes off her sister since Brooke blew through the door.
“Big new assignment,” said Brooke, smiling and taking a sip from the wine.
She was wearing long, long, tight, tight jeans and a washed out blue tee-shirt. No make-up, no jewellery. Of course, she was getting a little long in the tooth for a model, close to twenty-five. But she was still breathtaking. Her parents and sister were, in fact, almost holding their collective respiration waiting for the news of the big assignment. I picked another muffin from the plate and asked myself how Elmvale Acres could have produced an amazing specimen like Brooke.
“Okay, just a little bit, Daddy,” the amazing specimen said, accepting the plate of goodies.
She picked up a brownie, took a tiny bite, put it back on the plate and licked her fingers. Everyone smiled in approval. Except me.
Perhaps you’re
