The Brutal Heart (29 page)

“Sean is anxiously waiting, but if you’d like a moment to freshen up, here’s the key to Zack’s bathroom.”

“Thanks,” I said, pocketing the key. “I’ll need more than a moment. Could you let Sean know I’m here, and I’ll be along?”

“Will do,” Denise said. She opened her desk drawer and found a container of instant spot remover and held it out to me. “Interested?”

“Very,” I said.

Denise handed me the tube. “Zack’s at home, you know.”

“I know,” I said. “I wish I was there too. It’s been a long day.”

Sean was sitting on the edge of Denise’s desk when I came back. He jumped up and offered his arm. “Can I get you anything before we start, Joanne?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “So, are you still in your old office?”

“Nope. Moving on up. Come have a look.”

I followed him down the corridor to the office next to Zack’s. He opened the door and stood aside so I could get a clear view. It was impressive. The room was probably half the size of Zack’s, but a floor-to-ceiling window gave it great natural light, and it had been decorated with surprising inventiveness for a business. The walls and furnishings were in complementary shades of brown and taupe, but the ceiling was a bracing asparagus green.

“What do you think?” Sean said.

“I love it. Who did the decorating?”

“I did,” he said.

“That colour on the walls is gorgeous. I’ve been looking for a brown that shade for our bedroom at the lake. What’s it called?”

“Moleskin,” Sean grimaced. “Terrible name, I know, but I went through a hundred decorating books till I found exactly what I wanted.”

“You were just named partner a few days ago,” I said. “How did you find the time?”

“I’ve always known what I wanted,” he said. “It was just a question of waiting until I got it.”

“Well, congratulations,” I said. “On being patient, on the partnership, and on the decorating. I’m going to send Zack around to take notes.”

“Please do,” he said. “Right now, just make yourself comfortable.” He pointed to a reading chair covered in café au lait leather. “That particular chair is very restful.”

“Another time,” I said. “If I settled into that, I’d never leave.”

I walked over to his desk and pulled out the leather client chair. His framed law school diploma was on the seat. I picked it up. “You don’t want to lose this,” I said.

Sean coloured and grabbed the diploma from me before I’d had a chance to really notice anything but the date.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” I said.

“Zack says if you need to have a diploma on your wall proving you’ve mastered the law, you’re in the wrong business.” he said tightly.

“You’re a partner now. Put whatever you want on your walls. Besides, you know Zack. He doesn’t care what you do with your office. All he cares about is that you love the law the way he does.”

Sean’s eyes met mine. “The only thing I’ve ever loved is Falconer Shreve,” he said. His face was blank; it was clear he had no idea how much he had just revealed. I felt a chill. “Let’s talk about Ginny’s campaign,” I said.

“It was like everything else,” he said. “Just a series of trade-offs.”

“I thought you believed in Ginny.”

“Not really,” he said. “But I needed leverage to get what I wanted at Falconer Shreve.”

“Ginny was just leverage?”

Sean’s baritone was smoothly reassuring. “Everyone is leverage, Joanne. You invest in a person, hoping that the potential return from your investment is great. Sometimes it is, but sometimes people disappoint us. When we realize that our investment is worthless, it’s time to move along.”

“And that’s what happened with you and Ginny?”

“Among others,” he said.

I thought of how Sean had suddenly spurned my daughter. “So what do you do when an investment doesn’t pay off?” I asked.

“Like any other investor, I cut my losses,” he said. “Now, let’s talk about the future. I can’t tell you how excited I am to be part of the Falconer Shreve family.”

CHAPTER
16

Friday morning when I flipped through the business section of our local newspaper and saw Falconer Shreve’s announcement that Margot Wright and Sean Barton would be assuming new positions with the firm, I knew Sean would be over the moon at being publicly acknowledged as a member of the Falconer Shreve family. The pictures of Margot and him were equally flattering; more importantly, they were of equal size and side by side. By his own assessment, Sean was a patient man. It was only a matter of time before his name would be added to the letterhead of Falconer Shreve.

When I handed the paper to Zack, opened to this page, he grinned. “Hey, nice picture of the newest members of our bowling team.”

“They look promising,” I said. “Margot could bowl a perfect game without breaking a sweat or a single one of her fabulous red, red nails, and Sean is certainly single-minded.”

Zack raised an eyebrow. “Do I detect a note of criticism?”

“No,” I said. “If you’re happy with the hires, I’m happy with the hires.”

“I’m happy. I know it started as a joke, but Delia’s convinced we have to find our soul again. Maybe bowling is a start.”

“Well, if it is, I get to be in the team picture,” I said. “It was my joke.”

“Palman qui meruit ferat
. Let him bear the palm who has deserved it,” Zack said. “But it was neat that Margot picked up on the joke.”

“She does look sensational in that bowling shirt,” I said.

“We were lucky to get her,” Zack said. “And not just because she looks good in a bowling shirt. She’s a hell of a good lawyer.”

“Were you lucky to get Sean?”

“He’ll be fine,” Zack said. “He doesn’t have the feel for the law Margot does, but I was impressed with the work he did tracking down the sources of Jason Brodnitz’s income. I was also impressed that he wasn’t afraid to use what he knew to get Brodnitz to back down on the custody case.”

“You don’t think what Sean did was ruthless?”

“Sean wasn’t the one who was living off money he earned from prostitutes. We all have to live with the consequences of our actions.” Zack pushed his chair back from the table. “Speaking of, I’d better get a move on or I’ll miss my flight.”

“I hate being apart overnight,” I said. “How come you’re always the one who has to speak at these dinners?”

“Because, Ms. Shreve, your husband is the only lawyer in the province who knows when to leave the podium.”

We weren’t in a rush, so I parked and waited with Zack in the terminal until his flight was called. We had a cup of bad coffee from a kiosk and talked about the weekend ahead. When the announcement came, Zack drained his cup and pitched it in the recycling bin. “What do you think about calling our team the Piranhas?”

“I think it stinks,” I said.

Zack reached out and pulled me towards him. “Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes,” he said.

I spent the morning at my laptop looking at video clips of Ginny’s career. The material was familiar, yet I found myself moved and saddened by the documentation of Ginny’s rise and fall. Her career had the kind of arc that television loves: beginning with her promise as an athlete, moving onto her success in business, building to her political wins, her exemplary handling of her cabinet post and the growing belief that she was destined for great things, and then suddenly the climax – when at the moment where everything seems possible, the protagonist self-destructs, leaving nothing behind but the shards of lost possibilities.

At a little before noon, I e-mailed my draft proposal to Jill, then called the massage centre Zack and I used and booked an appointment. In my opinion, I’d earned an afternoon of indulgence. I had a glass of wine with lunch, then I had a nap and a swim and went to my massage. Two hours later, with the life force once again flowing unimpeded through my body, I came home, made a salad for Taylor and myself, and took my Matisse biography outside with a glass of iced tea. The good life.

Ed Mariani called just as Taylor and I were about to leave for Mieka’s. “Glad you caught me,” I said. “Taylor and I were just on our way out the door.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to Zack,” Ed said.

“He’s in Saskatoon. He had meetings there all day and he’s speaking at a dinner tonight. Do you want his cell number?”

“Thanks,” Ed said after he wrote the number down. “Everything okay with you?”

“Couldn’t be better,” I said. “I spent an entire afternoon following my bliss.”

“Well, I won’t keep you,” Ed said. “Thanks for Zack’s number.”

“Ed, you sound a little distracted. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” he said, and he hung up.

Taylor and the granddaughters and I were sitting on the steps of Dessart Ice Cream Emporium when Zack called. “What are you up to?” he said.

“I’m sitting on the steps of Dessart with the young women in your life. We’re all eating double-deckers with sprinkles.”

“You’re lucky. I’m at a reception with a bunch of other lawyers waiting to get our joints bored off by an evening with Morty Lamb.”

“Isn’t the expression ‘tits bored off’?”

“I was attempting to be inclusive,” Zack said. “The last time I used the term tits, you took umbrage.”

“You sound a little lubricated.”

“Probably more than a little. Some of us got together for drinks before we came here.”

“Always a good idea to have a few drinks before you go to a reception where the wine will be flowing.”

“I’ll slow down.”

“That’s my boy. Hey, did Ed Mariani get in touch with you?”

“I had my cell off. I’ll call him later.”

“Ed says it’s important.”

“Okay, I’ll call him now. Hold that. We are being waved into dinner. I’ll call him after the prime rib.”

“Make sure you eat something.”

“I will. And I’ll call you when I get back to my room. It won’t be late. Morty joined us for drinks, and he’s already nodding.” Somebody who was demanding Zack’s attention was speaking to him. When Zack came back, he sounded wistful. “Tell me again exactly what you’re doing.”

“Sitting on the steps of Dessart with the girls. The sun is setting behind the cathedral. We’re finishing our ice cream, and we all miss you.”

“That is precisely what I wanted to hear.”

The girls were tucked in, and Taylor and I had just started perusing Mieka’s
DVD
s when Francesca Pope called.

She got right to the point. “Your husband can’t be trusted,” she said. “I want my bears.”

“I can’t do anything tonight, Francesca,” I said. “I’m not at home. You called my cell.”

“I know,” she said. “I got the number from your voice mail. When will you be at your house?”

“Probably not till around ten. You can come by then if you like.”

“It’s not safe for me there.” Her voice was thick. “It’s not safe for them either. I have to get them out of there.”

“I’ll bring the bears to you tomorrow morning.”

“No! It could be too late by then.” Her voice rose with desperation.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll bring them to you tonight. Where can I meet you?”

“At the side of Acme Store-All. It’s right next to the Pendryn.”

“Where Cristal Avilia lived.”

“And died,” she said.

My pulse quickened. “Francesca, how close were you and Cristal?”

“She was my best friend,” Francesca said, then the line went dead.

I thought about calling Zack but realized he’d be in the middle of dinner. The news about the nature of Francesca’s relationship with Cristal could wait, but Francesca’s fear stayed with me as Taylor and I settled in to watch
Atonement
.

Mieka came home just as the credits at the end of the movie were rolling. Taylor and I had polished off a pitcher of iced tea and most of a bowl of popcorn. We’d also gone through a substantial number of tissues, but I would have been hard-pressed to identify exactly for whom I was crying.

When Mieka walked into the family room, I stood up and looked past her for Sean. “Where’s the junior partner?” I asked.

Mieka scooped out the last of the popcorn. “Where junior partners go at the end of an evening – back to the office.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes, we did. Very low key, but it was nice.” She kicked off her shoes. “Would you care for a beer while you debrief me?”

“I’d love a beer, but I have to go on an errand.”

Mieka glanced at her watch. “It’s quarter to ten.”

“This is urgent. Do you remember Francesca Pope?”

“The Care Bear lady? Sure. She’s pretty memorable.”

“She left her bears at our house for safekeeping and she’s decided she needs them back.”

“So you’re going to take them to her at this time of night?”

“I’m going to meet her next to the Pendryn – I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Mum, that is not a safe area.”

“People pay three-quarters of a million dollars to live in that area, Mieka. How dangerous can it be? Besides, I promised.”

“Okay, then. I’ll go with you.”

Taylor was off in the kitchen, making a phone call, but I still lowered my voice. “Mieka, you know how Taylor is about being in the house alone at night.”

“She won’t be alone. The girls are here.”

“The girls are little kids.” I picked up the popcorn bowl. “When I get back, we’ll have a beer and I’ll fill you in on nightlife in the warehouse district.”

“At least promise to keep your car doors locked.”

“If the car doors are locked, how will I get the bears out?”

“I thought you were the brains in the family,” Mieka said. “Hand Francesca the bears through the window.”

I’d forgotten to leave any lights on at home, and as I opened the front door I felt the stab of mindless fear I always experience going into a dark house. Taylor wasn’t the only one with anxieties. Reassured by the presence of the dogs, I moved quickly, turning on lights and humming to break the silence. I picked up Francesca’s backpack and returned to my car. Then, with the bears beside me on the front seat, I drove down Albert Street to the warehouse district.

Our mayor had dreamed of transforming the northeast core of the city into a place where the rich could live and the hip could play at night. As I turned onto Dewdney Avenue, it seemed that at least part of the mayor’s dream for the area had been realized. The magenta lamppost pennants that marked the district were snapping in the breeze and the brightly lit streets were filled with people laughing and talking as they moved between nightclubs, bars, and poolrooms. I drove past Bushwakker Brewpub, the meeting place of choice for my students and the home of my husband’s favourite, the Wakker Burger. Everybody seemed to be having fun, and it occurred to me that Mieka and I might leave Zack with the kids some night and come down and hit a couple of clubs. Maybe it was time my cautious older daughter took a walk on the wild side.

The shift in atmosphere when I crossed Broad Street was sobering. Except for the Pendryn, the developers had not yet reclaimed this part of the district, and I found myself in the dark, lonely world of deserted lumberyards and crumbling buildings. There were streetlights, but no one walked beneath them, and the only sounds I heard came from guard dogs barking.

Acme Store-All and the Pendryn shared a city block. The Pendryn was surrounded by a razor-wire-topped security fence, and the swimming pool and Japanese garden behind the condo were as brightly lit as a prison courtyard. Ed had said that one of the beauties of the Pendryn was the spectacular view it offered of the city. The windows of the individual condominiums were floor to ceiling but, without exception, they were dark. Seemingly, I’d come on a night when there was nobody home.

I chose a parking place that gave me a clear view of the cinder yard beside Acme Store-All. Francesca Pope was nowhere in sight, but her bicycle was propped against the wall. I remembered how frightened she was. She was obviously hiding, waiting for me to show myself. I took a deep breath, picked up the backpack, got out of my car, and clicked the locks on my doors. My cell rang before I’d taken a single step.

Ed Mariani was apologetic. “Jo, I’m know I’m being a pest, but Zack hasn’t called back, and there’s something he needs to know.”

I adjusted the backpack. “He’s probably still at that retirement dinner. I imagine that right about now they’re on the brandy and cigars. Why don’t you leave the message with me? Zack will call me to say goodnight when he gets to his room.”

“All right,” Ed said. “I may be interfering in something that’s none of my business, but do you remember that friend I mentioned who lives at the Pendryn?”

“Of course,” I said. “He was the one who told you that Jason Brodnitz was a frequent visitor of Cristal Avilia’s.”

“Apparently Jason wasn’t the only frequent visitor,” Ed said. “David called this afternoon. He’d seen the photos of Zack’s new partners in the paper, and he recognized Sean Barton. He thought Zack should know that Sean was Cristal Avilia’s boyfriend.”

I felt a coldness in the pit of my stomach. “Is he sure?”

“Positive. David said Sean was there all the time. I guess there were some terrible fights. David even went up to Cristal’s condo once to see if she wanted him to call the police.”

I glanced at the darkened windows of the Pendryn. “But of course she didn’t,” I said.

“No,” Ed said. “You know how these things are.”

“Ed, I’m going to call Zack now. You were right to pass this along. My God, Mieka had dinner with Sean tonight.”

“But she’s not with him now.”

“No. She’s home with her girls.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded strained. I was having trouble absorbing the truth about Sean. “Ed, let me call you back after I talk to Zack.”

I speed-dialed Zack’s number and got his message immediately. Wherever he was, he’d turned off his cell. I wanted to go home, but I could see the shadow of Francesca’s shambling bulk against the wall of Acme Store-All. She was waiting for me. I started along the sidewalk. I added up the letters in Sean’s name – there were ten, and there were thirteen letters in Cristal Avilia’s name. Thirteen minus ten – three. Sean was Cristal’s perfect 3.