the water stopped.
“Lindsay?” I don't know what the hell I thought, as I stood at the foot of the enormous bed. I sure didn't expect Lindsay Grace to step from her bathroom to her bedroom, shaking her damp hair behind her.
“You're all right,” I blurted. “Thank God. We were so worried.”
She whirled, screamed and dropped her towel. She hit the floor on the far side of the enormous bed.
“I'm so sorry,” I said quickly. “I guess I panicked after your phone call. When you didn't answer, I drove over here in case. Now, of course, I see you're all right. So I guess I'll leave you alone to get, um, organized.” It's not like me to babble, but this time, I couldn't stop. Lindsay scrambled back into the bathroom. Who could blame her? I felt like a fool. “I'll be downstairs.”
“All right,” she said, in a muffled voice.
“Are you sure you're okay? Didn't mean to scare you. I brought a friend with me. He's a Mountie. He works in security.”
“Give me a couple of minutes.” The voice was shaky.
“No problem, Lindsay. I'll make some fresh coffee.”
I caught sight of Merv. People look healthier after neurosurgery.
“What's the matter?” I whispered. “Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?”
Six
Merv's coffee went down fast. He takes three sugars, but this time he drank it straight. I was still dipping the teaspoon in the sugar bowl when he drained the last drop.
Merv keeps his hair clipped about the length of a five o'clock shadow. His scalp was pink, another measure of his state of mind. I had no choice but to lean across the kitchen table and stare him straight in the eye. “Pull yourself together.”
“Holy shit,” he said. And not for the first time.
“And try a little conversational variety while you're at it.” I twitched the teaspoon dangerously.
Merv poured himself another cup. Before I could dump the three teaspoons of sugar in it, he said “holy shit” again.
“Lindsay might come downstairs. Do you think you can act like a rational human being? Imagine how traumatic it was for her coming across a strange man in her bedroom while she was…”
“Holy…” Merv said.
“…fresh from the bath. And if she does comes down, if you can't say something intelligent, don't say anything at all.”
Merv didn't say anything, but I was pretty sure I knew what he was thinking.
I asked myself some tough questions. Why hadn't Lindsay answered the phone after her hysterical call? How could she relax and listen to music in the tub while waiting for Ralph Benning to kick in the front door? I knew her first steps would have been to the medicine cabinet for an extra boost of the sedatives that helped her get through every day. But even so.
“Merv, let's not sit on our duffs wasting time. We should review the security here. That's your specialty.”
That seemed to snap him out of it.
“Okay,” I said, “there are bars on the basement windows, top-grade Clear Defence security film on every pane of glass in the house, bars across the patio doors, a first-rate silent alarm system, wired to every door and window, panic button, and double deadbolts on the doors. Do you think she's missing anything?”
I was still talking when Merv bounded off to check the basement and the first floor. It gave me time to think about Benning and how he might try to get in. These security products would discourage a burglar, but not a psycho with nothing to lose.
Twenty minutes later, I was brooding over my third cup of coffee, when Merv returned. “Impressive. Someone did an fine job on this place.”
“Anyone else but Benning and she wouldn't have a worry.”
“I don't see how anybody could get in,” he said, grudgingly.
“Benning could. Even this security won't keep out a hail of bullets or a two-thousand pound vehicle ramming the front door.”
“You'll get rapid response with that centrally-monitored system.”
“On a normal day, sure. But with every unit after Benning and the roads clogged, the response time will be pathetic.”
Merv opened his mouth to speak. I shook my head to silence him as a slight movement in the doorway caught my eye. Lindsay Grace entered the kitchen with the soft, smooth movements of an expensive cat. Elegant and understated in a cream-coloured slim tunic and leggings that looked like cashmere. Her dark chestnut hair was dry and brushed back into a ponytail. That golden olive complexion didn't need makeup, not even the dab of lip-gloss she'd applied. Her only decoration was a tiny pair of gold hoop earrings. As usual, she smelled good. Organza, if I remembered correctly.
Lindsay had the kind of face you'd see on the cover of Chatelaine. Except a photo might not capture the soft backlit skin and the fragility. If it wasn't for the lack of focus in her eyes, you would have thought she hadn't a worry in the world.
She didn't match the stereotype of a battered woman. Of course, in my line of work, you learn fast not to rely on those preconceptions. None of Ralph Benning's victims had looked the part.
“Mmmm,” she said, “I smell coffee.”
“Ready for one?” I asked.
“I'm sorry about the call to the office.” She reached for her coffee, her hands steadier than mine.
That took me by surprise. “You're sorry? What do you have to be sorry about?”
“Alarming you. I panicked when I turned on the radio and heard a prisoner had escaped. I don't know why I assumed that the prisoner who had escaped was Ralph. That was stupid of me. I guess I'm strung out because it's the sentencing hearing. That's all I can think about. You didn't have to come all the way over and on such a terrible day too. I wasn't using my head. I had to take an Ativan, well two, and a long bath with some Vivaldi to calm down. I called back to tell you not to bother, but I got the answering machine.”
“I wanted to be here.”
“Well, I appreciate it, but I'm all right.”
I took a deep breath. “Lindsay, have a seat.”
She slid onto the attractive light metal chair. “Sorry for screaming, but I didn't recognize you for a minute. I've never seen you dressed quite like that. And I didn't know your friend.”
It must have taken at least three Ativans to let Lindsay feel untroubled by the sight of Merv with his jaw around his ankles. I decided not to explain my outfit. I had no choice but to introduce Merv.
“Lindsay, meet Merv Morrison. He's with the RCMP.” Out of regard for our longstanding relationship, I didn't mention Merv's sick leave, nor did the words gall or bladder leave my lips.
