at his retreating back.
“God, it’s all my fault,” Dorothy groaned. “I should have made her stay. I knew something was up. She was so upset, wouldn’t sit still, kept fidgeting with her amulet. At one point, she even took it off. I thought after all these years she was finally going to show me what it contained. But she changed her mind and put it back on again.”
“Did she say what was bothering her?” I asked.
“Louis, who else.” Dorothy played with the gold band on her finger. “I’ll never forgive myself if something has happened to her. “
“Please, don’t blame yourself, Dorothy. There’s no way you could have anticipated this.”
“If you only knew the number of times I’ve blamed myself for not interfering.”
I nodded in sympathy, thinking of Monday afternoon, when I hadn’t interfered either. I’d let Louis drag her off without a whimper of protest, knowing full well what would probably happen, and it had.
“Did she say why she was upset with Louis?” I asked.
“Not really, but she was very upset about the gold mine, kept asking me all sorts of crazy questions, as if I would know anything about it. She wanted to know who CanacGold was. How’d they know where to find the gold? Who told them? Questions like that. She never stopped. You know, from the way she was talking, it was almost as if she knew the gold was there before talk of this mine started.”
“Is it possible?” I asked, wondering if this was the information she had refused to tell me.
A low murmur, punctuated by the sound of a fridge opening and closing, drifted in from the direction of the kitchen.
“I don’t see how. The first any of us learned about it was a few days ago, when those planes came in. Except now that you mention it, she did mutter something about Louis and a lot of money. She seemed to be accusing him of something.”
“What’s that about Papa and money?” joined in Tommy walking into the living room. He carried a bottle of beer.
Before he had a chance to take a slurp, Dorothy grabbed it from his hand. “I don’t care whether you’re white enough to be a lawyer or not, you’re not drinking in my house at this hour of the day.”
Tommy stopped, plainly startled by the force of Dorothy’s response. For a moment, I thought he was going to grab the bottle back from her, but he kicked the chair instead.
“Is she at work?” I asked, anxious to know the answer.
But Tommy ignored my question and turned to Dorothy. “What were you saying about Mooti and a gold mine?”
“Nothing to do with you,” she replied impatiently. “Just tell us if your mother is at work today?”
He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say “have it your way.” “No, she’s not there, and she wasn’t at Betty Braun’s yesterday.”
ELEVEN
I wasn’t happy with the way Tommy wanted to proceed. Neither was Dorothy. He insisted we keep our busybody noses out of it. Marie was his mother, after all. The Migiskan First Nations Police would take it from there. I argued we shouldn’t wait for them, but begin the search for her right away. He refused to consider it, saying the cops were better equipped. We ladies would only get in the way.
But he wasn’t going to get rid of me that easily. There was no way I was going to sit back and let a police investigation take its slow course. I decided to pursue a couple of ideas of my own. And it seemed Dorothy thought likewise. Before I stepped out her door, she was on the phone asking someone if they’d seen Marie.
Although I was certain Marie had made the call yesterday morning while I was battling my own demons on Whispers Island, I thought it would help narrow the search if we knew the exact time she’d made the call. And knowing the phone number she’d called from would narrow it even further. With no phone of her own, Marie would have used someone else’s. Fortunately, I wouldn’t have to search far to get the time or the number. The information attached to her voice message would tell me.
However, my heart sank when, back at home, I discovered the actual time. Instead of the day before, she’d called two days ago on the Tuesday at 8:02 pm, right after she’d left Dorothy’s, and while I was at home. Where else would I be? I didn’t exactly have a thriving social life.
But I couldn’t remember the phone ringing. And I knew I’d been at home, because that was the day Marie and I learned about Aunt Aggie’s secret marriage. It was also the day Marie refused to tell me what she knew about Whispers Island.
While I tried to come up with excuses, like I was outside getting firewood or taking out the garbage, I knew there was only one reason why I hadn’t heard the phone ring. I was passed out on the couch, a state I seemed to be in a lot lately. I didn’t remember much, just waking up around midnight or so, shivering and stumbling off to bed feeling like roadkill.
It was my fault she was in trouble. If I’d been sober, I’d have been there for Marie. I could have talked to her, found out what was wrong, made her come to my place instead of going home. She’d be safe. Now I really had to do all I could to find her.
I quickly dialled the number she’d called from and wasn’t the least surprised when I heard Hélène’s voice. The country music blasting in the background of Marie’s message had tipped me off.
With no patience for pleasantries, I immediately jumped in with, “Where did Marie go after she left your store the other night?”
“Pardon? Who’s this?” Hélène replied in confusion.
“Sorry. Meg Harris. I need to know where Marie went after she made the phone call the other night.”
“How should I know? Why don’t you ask her?”
“Can’t. She’s missing.”
“Missing? When?”
“Two nights ago. She used your phone. Remember?”
“Jeez, a lot of people use my phone. What night you say?”
“Tuesday, around eight o’clock.”
Behind Hélène’s heavy breathing, Shania Twain belted out one of her latest hits. “Yeah, I remember she was here all right. Seemed kinda upset.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“Nope, not that I remember. Just came in, used the phone and left.”
“Any idea where she went, even the direction she took?”
“Hmmm, let me think. It was kinda busy.” She expelled a rush of air into the phone. “Nope, don’t know.’
“Well, thanks for your—”
“Don’t hang up! I remember something. Louis’s old heap went by about that time. He probably picked her up. Ask him.”
“You’re sure? He was supposed to be in the bush.”
