Kaleidoscope (11 page)

I didn’t realize Zack had come back from inspecting the condo until I heard his voice beside me. “Well, it works for me,” he said. “Nothing too high, too low, too sloping, or too steep.”

“Good,” I said, turning away from the view. “Zack, you spent some time with Riel Delorme today. What do you think of him?”

Zack was slow to answer. Finally, he said, “Well, he’s no Wayne Gretzky.”

“Where’d that come from?”

“Gretzky always knew instinctively where the game was going – not just where his teammates were but where they were going to move next. Riel’s right in the middle of the action, but he can’t seem to see what’s going on, and he can’t figure out where the game is headed. I don’t get it.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t
want
to see what’s really going on. Maybe, with all his good intentions, he’s in over his head and doesn’t want to face it. Maybe Riel is what Ian used to call ‘terminally naive.’ ”

Zack nodded approvingly. “Nice turn of phrase.”

“Most of the time the phrase was directed at me.”

“You’re not naive.”

“Not any more,” I said, “but once upon a time I was a lot like Riel.”

CHAPTER
6

That day I really needed the calming effect of driving. Without comment, Zack took his place in the passenger seat. “Wouldn’t take many mornings like this one to make a dozen, would it?” he said.

My laugh was forced. “No, but we’re headed for the lake now so soon all will be well.”

“About that,” Zack said. “Joanne, I have to call Debbie Haczkewicz and tell her about our new living arrangements.”

“Every move we make, huh?” I said.

“Yep – and every breath we take – at least till all this is cleared up.”

“I’m assuming that Mieka’s relationship with Riel is now going to be on record at the police station.”

Zack nodded. “Yes, if it isn’t already. Jo, did you tell Mieka that we were moving into Leland’s condo?”

“No. I didn’t want to pour salt on the wound.”

“Just as well,” Zack said. “For the time being, the fewer people who know we’re living on Halifax Street during the week, the better.”

“Can I tell Peter and Angus?”

“It might be simpler not to, but that’s your call.”

“I don’t like lying to them.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Zack said. “Just don’t say anything. They’ll assume we’re driving in from the lake every day.”

“A sin of omission, not commission,” I said.

Zack’s smile was wry. “Get used to it,” he said. “Now, I’d better call Debbie. It never pays to withhold information from the cops.”

When we came through the gate, the dogs roared up to meet us. I scratched our bouvier’s head. “Somehow I don’t see these guys as condo dwellers,” I said. “I hate the idea of not being with Willie and Pantera every day.”

Pantera rested his huge jaw on the arm of Zack’s chair. “Me, too,” Zack said. “But I’m sure the condo has a no-pet rule, and a bouvier and a mastiff are not easy to sneak in.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Well, Noah Wainberg’s up getting the cottages ready. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking care of the dogs during the week, and as soon as the Cronus trial is over and Taylor’s finished exams, we can move up here till September. Are you okay with that?”

“I guess I’m going to have to be,” I said. “Let’s find Taylor and fill her in. We might as well get it all over with at once.”

We walked down to the lake into a scene from Norman Rockwell. Taylor and Isobel Wainberg were on the swings that Isobel’s father, Noah, had suspended from a high branch of an elm years ago. They were pushing themselves slowly, deep in conversation, their toes dragging through the dirt on the paths worn through the grass. The girls were very different. Taylor was tall and loose-limbed with the quick smile of the extrovert; Isobel was small-boned, tightly wound, and hesitant about revealing her private
self. Yet from the moment they met, Taylor and Isobel had been fast friends.

Not wanting to disturb the sweetness of the moment, neither Zack nor I moved, but the dogs loped ahead and the girls turned. Their young faces were anxious.

“How bad is the house?” Taylor asked.

“It’s bad,” I said.

“Were the paintings wrecked?”

“We don’t know,” I said. “The police wouldn’t let us go inside. It wasn’t safe.”

Taylor lowered her eyes and began scuffing the dirt with her toe. Isobel was a girl quick to sense the moods of others. She jumped off the swing and touched Taylor’s shoulder. “I think maybe you and your parents need to be alone to talk about this.”

Zack smiled at her. “Thanks, Izzie. We’ll see you later.”

When Isobel left, Taylor looked at her father and me. There were tears in her eyes. “Will we ever be able to move back?” she asked.

“It’ll be a while,” Zack said. “But it will happen. Until the house is back to normal, we’ve got the lake and we’ve found a place to stay during the week. It’s not far from your school.”

“Where?” Taylor asked.

“Leland Hunter’s condo on Halifax Street.”

“But the bedroom is upstairs,” Taylor said.

“You’ve seen it?” I said.

“Declan left his jacket there one weekend and we went to pick it up.” Her face pinched with worry, she turned to Zack. “You’re coming with us, aren’t you?”

“To the ends of the earth,” Zack said. “But in this case, just as far as the main floor. You’ll have the big bedroom on the second floor. There are a couple of other bedrooms downstairs. Joanne and I will take one of those.”

“I knew there were bedrooms downstairs, and I knew Jo and I would never move without you. What’s the matter with me?”

“The same thing that’s the matter with all of us,” I said. “There’s just too much to absorb. And, Taylor, there’s something else. We’re not going to tell anyone where we’re living. Declan and his dad and Margot will know, of course, and the police have been told, but that’s it.”

Taylor’s dark eyes widened. “Not even Gracie and Isobel?”

Zack’s voice was even. “I’ve known those girls since the day they were born. I love and trust them, but we can’t afford a slip. I honestly don’t think we’re going to hear anything more from those apes who blew up our house, but until the cops get them, we can’t tell anybody where we’re living.”

Taylor got off the swing. “Okay,” she said, and her voice was small. She started up the slope towards the house, and we followed. I could see Zack’s weariness as he pushed uphill. My own legs felt like lead.

We had a sandwich and when I suggested a nap, Zack didn’t fight me. Two hours later, I woke feeling if not reborn at least ready to face what lay ahead. I turned so I could look at my husband’s face. The creases that bracketed his mouth were deep. His paraplegia affected every area of his life. Routine made it manageable, but in the next month, there would be no routine. We’d be adapting to a new house, a new schedule, and Zack would be carrying the burden of convincing a jury that his client, a slumlord with unsavoury connections, hadn’t murdered his girlfriend. I went into the bathroom, picked up my nail polish, and came back to bed. When Zack awakened, he stretched lazily. “So any new crises while we slept?”

“Nothing major,” I said. “But I seem to have smudged the polish on my baby toe.” I handed him the bottle of
Mochaccino Mama. “How about a quick repair job before we go to Magoo’s?”

When Margot, Leland, and Declan arrived, Margot, a dog lover without a dog, dropped to her knees and began crooning endearments to Willie and Pantera. Leland’s stitches still looked angry, but he wasn’t the only member of his family among the walking wounded. Declan had a line of stitches along his cheekbone, and the area around his right eye was an ugly rainbow of purplish-blue and yellow.

“What happened to you?” Zack said.

Declan looked away. “I walked into a door.”

Zack cocked his head. “Just an educated guess, but I’d say the door was about five-foot-ten, hundred and eighty pounds.”

A small smile quivered across Declan’s lips. “Closer to six feet, two hundred pounds.”

“We’re lucky you’re still with us,” Zack said.

“So I’ve been told,” Declan said. “Is Taylor around?”

“She’s inside studying,” I said. “She’ll be glad to see you.”

When the door shut behind him, Zack turned to Leland. “So what did happen?”

Leland sat on the corner of one of the lounges. “Declan was upset about what had been done to your house,” Leland said. “He went into North Central to ask some questions.”

“And people were reluctant to answer,” I said.

Leland’s voice was devoid of expression. “According to Declan, he gave as good as he got.”

“Jesus,” Zack said. “He’s lucky he didn’t come home in a body bag, but I’m sure you explained that.”

Margot came up the porch steps. Her tone was dry. “Actually, being on the receiving end of a beating with a sawed-off baseball bat made the point for us.”

Zack shuddered. “Who’s for a drink?”

“Sparkling water for me,” Margot said.
“I could use something stronger,” Leland said. “Zack, I remember you saying that you make a fine martini.”

“He makes a great martini,” I said. “And I’ll join you.”

“Good,” Leland said. “We’ll drink to better days.”

Part of the allure of Magoo’s was the fact that we could get there by boat. As we nosed out into the lake, I turned to make certain that all the life jackets had been snapped on. They had. Margot and Leland were seated in the back; Taylor and Declan were directly behind us. Taylor had tipped her head back to catch the sun, and Declan was watching the play of light and shadow on her face with an intensity that made my heart ache for him. Taylor may have felt their relationship was a friendship of convenience, but clearly Declan’s emotions ran deep.

From the May long weekend to Thanksgiving, Magoo’s rocked. Most nights as we passed the midpoint in the lake, we could hear the music. Tonight, it was Buddy Holly singing “Oh Boy.”

Zack and Margot joined Buddy at the second verse. Zack had a tuneful bass, and Margot sang with wild down-home abandon. As she and Zack hit the “Dum dee dum dum dums,” even Taylor and Declan were laughing. It seemed an auspicious start for the evening.

Magoo’s was a favourite with our family, and it was fun to see the restaurant through fresh eyes. When Margot spotted the distinctive rounded top and the glass front of the vintage Wurlitzer jukebox, she clapped her hands with delight. “This is the real thing, isn’t it?” she said, bending to check the playlist. “There was a jukebox like this in Northey’s ice-cream parlour in Wadena when I was a kid. I spent hours standing in front of it watching people put in money, and punch the buttons, hoping they’d choose a song I liked. They seldom did, but I still danced.” Margot continued to
pore over the playlist. “Leland, give me a loonie, would you? C-5 is the song I want for our bride-and-groom dance.”

Leland smiled and handed over the loonie. Margot put it in the slot, hit C-5, and Slim Whitman began singing “I Remember You.” “Slim has always been a favourite in Wadena,” Margot said, then she held out her arms to Leland and they began to dance. Taylor and Declan followed suit.

Zack looked up at me. “Want to dance, Ms. Shreve, or shall we just find a quiet corner and smooch?”

“It’s been a long day,” I said. “Let’s smooch.”

We were in luck. There was one empty table left on the deck and it overlooked the lake. Zack moved a chair out of the way, wheeled in beside me, and took my hand. The sun was starting to fall in the sky, leaving a shaft of light across the water. A lone red canoe was heading for shore. “Let’s just stay here, forever,” I said. “Listening to Slim, watching the canoe, and canoodling.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Zack said.

“Neither am I,” I said, and then we shared a deep, lovely kiss that I wished could have lasted forever but, in the way of deep, lovely kisses, didn’t. Margot and Leland and the kids joined us. Herb McFaull, who owned Magoo’s, came out to say hello. The late, great Ritchie Valens began singing “La Bamba” and the sensory overload that was the true Magoo’s experience began. Everything at Magoo’s was superlative. The burgers were the sizzlingest, the shoestring fries the skinniest, the onion rings the greasiest, the coleslaw the most savoury, and the milkshakes in their old-fashioned metal containers the coldest and the thickest.

A meal at Magoo’s demanded and deserved full attention, so none of us talked much while we were eating. That didn’t mean there weren’t some nice moments. Zack, as he always did, solemnly unloaded his onions onto Taylor’s burger because she loved onions, and she never remembered to
order extras. When he attempted to open his mouth wide enough to take a bite of his burger, Declan winced with pain and slid his burger back on his plate. Wordlessly, Margot reached over and cut his burger into bite-sized pieces. Declan gave her a grateful smile and Margot leaned close to him and whispered, “I have brothers.”

After we’d eaten, Taylor and Declan gravitated towards the dance floor to put a little hip-hop into the sock hop, leaving the four of us to savour the pleasures of the gloaming. Only good friends can be comfortable sharing silence, and that evening I began to feel that Margot and Leland – in spite of the differences we might have – had entered that special category. When Leland’s cell shrilled, the spell was broken.

As Margot watched her fiancé move to the edge of the deck so he could be out of earshot, she made no attempt to hide her annoyance. “That will be the ex–Mrs. Hunter,” she said. “I wish someone could break Louise of her compulsion to drink and dial.”

“Many have tried,” Zack said.

“That’s right,” Margot said. “You were on Louise duty for a while, weren’t you? Before Sage Mackenzie took over.”

“Took over and took off to open her own law firm,” Zack said.

“I thought most young lawyers would trade their first born for a chance to be an associate at Falconer Shreve,” I said.

“Most would,” Zack replied. “But Sage isn’t a dewy-eyed young graduate. She was a cop before she was a lawyer.”

Margot turned to me. “You saw her, Joanne. She was the redhead trying to control Louise after the convocation. Anyway, I never had much to do with her, so all I know is the gossip.”