Kaleidoscope (20 page)

“Come see what you think of the rest of the job,” he said. “We took out all the furniture in the guestroom so your daughter could have the suite from the master in there, but if she wants the guestroom bed back, just say the word. We think the office is nice for a schoolgirl. And there’s a couch in there if your daughter wants to have a friend for a sleepover.”

Ed and I followed Colton through the other rooms. In the smaller space of the guestroom, the bed from the master bedroom seemed enormous. “Taylor could sleep her six closest friends in that,” I said.

“Somebody’s idea of what a single man like Mr. Hunter needed,” Colton said.

“Somebody who still reads
Playboy
,” I said. “But the bed is fine in here. We appreciate your help.”

Colton handed me his card. “My cell number is on there. If you have any problems, we’ll be here within the hour.”

After they left, I turned to Ed. “So now that the jig is up, can I offer you a cup of coffee?”

“Sure.”

As he followed me down the stairs, Ed’s step was ponderous. When we were together, Ed and I were seldom silent, but as I made the coffee, there was so much unsaid between us that we said nothing. I placed napkins and mugs on a small tray and filled the mugs. “I’m not sure what we have in the line of cookies,” I said, “but there’ll be something. Leland’s housekeeper stocked the pantry, and she seems to have anticipated our every wish.”

“No cookies, thanks.” Ed cast a lugubrious gaze at the bar stools placed along the edge of the butcher block. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not perch on one of those,” he said.

“I don’t like them either,” I said. “Too much like a diner. Why don’t we go into the living room where we can actually look at each other while we talk.”

As we settled into reading chairs, Ed said, “We’ve never had secrets from each other, Jo.” He tried a smile. “You were my best man.”

“Even my kids don’t know,” I said.

Ed’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe you haven’t told your children.”

“There was a good reason for that. Mieka’s in a relationship with Riel Delorme. Apparently Riel has tried to sever his ties with the gangs, but that’s easier said than done.”

“God, Jo, you must be heartsick.”

“Heartsick and scared,” I said. “I’m trying to focus on externals, keeping our little ship afloat – making sure everyone’s settled in and has what they need, but every so often the chasm opens and I see all the terrible possibilities.”

“And I added to your worries by behaving like a petulant schoolboy. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad not to have to lie to you any more. And I’m glad you’re here.” I leaned toward him. “Ed, you
have
pulled back on investigating the gang activity in North Central, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t stopped digging, but I’m keeping my distance. When I saw Declan Hunter’s face the day of the wedding, I realized I wasn’t the stuff of heroes.”

“Thank heaven for small mercies,” I said.

Ed patted my hand. “And for small discoveries,” he said. “I’ve come up with something that isn’t exactly earth-shattering, but it is another piece in the puzzle. Apparently, Riel Delorme has a sister – more accurately, a half-sister. She’s an ex-cop who is now a lawyer. Her name is Sage Mackenzie.”

“That’s bizarre,” I said. “I know Sage, and you’ve seen her, Ed – that day at the Conexus Centre – Sage Mackenzie was the redhead who pulled Louise Hunter away from Leland.”

“She deserves a gold star for that,” Ed said.

“Agreed,” I said. “That whole scene was a nightmare, and Louise’s antics made everything worse.”

“And another plus for Sage. Apparently, Riel’s conversion from militant to pacifist came about because she took him by the scruff of the neck and forced him to face some home truths about the people with whom he was associating. Given what you just told me about Mieka’s relationship with Riel Delorme, you must be relieved to learn that there’s a law-abiding member of the family keeping an eye on the rebel.”

“My feelings about Sage are mixed,” I said. “She’s Louise’s lawyer, and as you saw, Louise is a troubled soul. Sage seems to know just how to help her.”

“So why are your feelings about her mixed?”

“Sage used to be at Falconer Shreve. One night when she and Zack were working late, Sage came on to him. Zack said that even after he made it clear he wasn’t interested, Sage kept up her efforts. She unzipped his pants and put her hand in. At that point some delivery guy came into the office. Zack zipped up and that was that.”

“That’s a disturbing story,” Ed said.

“It is,” I agreed. “When Zack told me about the delivery man the first time, I thought it was funny, but since then I’ve wondered whether there was something more sinister going on.”

“Such as?”

“Zack said Sage was pretty determined to get his penis out. I’m wondering if that delivery man was supposed to shoot some pictures.”

“You think Sage was trying to solidify her position at Falconer Shreve with a little blackmail?”

“I don’t know. The next week Sage was fired for assaulting Zack’s executive assistant.”

Ed’s moon face was troubled. “I guess you never know about people,” he said.

“No,” I said. “I guess you never do.”

Not long after Ed left, Riel called. His apology was terse, but it seemed genuine. Most importantly, he agreed to talk to Leland. When I put forward Leland’s proposal about giving Nation
TV
’s audience an inside look at the mediation process, Riel said he would consider it. Our conversation was stilted, but we were at least talking and I was grateful for that.

Jill Oziowy could barely contain her excitement when I called to tell her that if Riel could be persuaded to agree, Leland Hunter was prepared to let Nation
TV
’s cameras record their meetings.

“Leland Hunter never – and I mean
never
– talks to the media,” she said. “And to let cameras be there as the mediator brokers an agreement between Leland and the man who wanted to destroy his project – this is going to be amazing!”

Her exhilaration was infectious. “I agree,” I said. “There’ll be footage of the protest last week when Leland received his honorary doctorate from the university. All the chants and
the signs:
Bring Them Down. What about our Heritage? Reclaim Our Neighbourhoods
. And I know the Nation
TV
cameraman was there when Riel was jostled and his sign caught Leland Hunter’s skull. It was an ugly cut – a lot of blood. Seeing two former enemies sit down and hammer out an agreement to share a multipurpose development will be a hallmark moment, and it’ll be all yours.”

“So,” Jill said, “where’s the worm in this shiny apple?”

“There isn’t one,” I said. “Everybody wins. Leland believes, and I agree, that the publicity focus will force both sides to reconcile their differences, and he’s also hopeful that all the attention will drive the violent protestors – who may have bombed our house – into the shadows.”

“Into the shadows but not out of business.”

“No, but the reason buildings have security lighting is to keep the bad guys away. Leland’s hoping the media glare will work the same way.”

“And Riel – what does he get out of this?” Jill asked.

“If he co-operates, Riel will be front and centre again. Apparently he was hot stuff when he was the neighbourhood Che, but his pacifism has made him seem ineffectual. If Riel plays his cards right, the Nation
TV
program will put him back in the spotlight, and when he brings North Central a multimillion-dollar facility, he’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

Jill was thoughtful. “So everybody wins but the thugs,” she said. “Why do I have a feeling they’re not going to take this lying down?”

Zack and Taylor were going to Bushwakker’s for dinner, but we had time for a cup of tea together before we headed our separate ways. When I relayed the news of the day to Zack, his ears pricked up at Jill’s final comment. “She’s right, you know. This program Leland is proposing is a real ‘in your face’ gesture, and haters don’t react well to taunting.”

“You think the television program is a mistake?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.”

I glanced at my watch. “I’m supposed to be at Linda’s by six. People have to work tomorrow, so it’ll be an early evening.”

Zack gave me a lazy grin. “Good. I’ll have the bed warm when you get home.”

“What are you going to order at Bushwakker’s?”

“Let’s see. Maybe the wild boar burger with roasted hot peppers and a side order of those double-fried fries.”

“Bushwakker’s makes a very nice Greek salad.”

Zack scoffed. “No man ever satisfied his woman by eating Greek salad.”

“You’d satisfy me,” I said. “I want you to live forever.”

Linda Fritz lived in a small and carefully restored home on a double lot in the Crescents, not far from our house on the creek. As she greeted me at the door, I thought she looked remarkably fresh for someone who’d spent the day in combat with Zack.

Linda is an attractive woman: a tall, slim, self-possessed redhead with lightly lined pale skin, intelligent grey eyes, and a low but commanding voice. Zack had tried for years to lure Linda from the Crown Prosecutor’s Office to Falconer Shreve. He admired her attention to detail, and her ability to read a situation and react effectively. He’d offered her money, a corner office, and a partnership, but she said that one of her great joys as a lawyer was going head to head with him in court so she was going to stay put.

“We’re going to have dinner out back,” she said. “But before we join the others I wanted to say how sorry I am about your house – especially your garden. I remember that when we were there for Zack’s birthday last month, you said you finally had the garden you wanted and you were both looking forward to kicking back and enjoying it.”

“Lucky we don’t know what’s ahead,” I said.

Linda shuddered. “Isn’t that the truth?” As she looked at me, her eyes were assessing. “You seem to be handling it.”

“No choice,” I said. “But tonight’s for celebrating, not mourning. Let’s go to the party.”

As we walked through the kitchen, Linda handed me a platter. “Would you mind carrying this?”

“Do you trust me not to eat it before we join the others? It looks great.”

“Thanks, it should be nice. Paté from the Hutterite colony at Kyle and high cranberry compote that I made from berries I picked myself near La Ronge.”

“So you’re serious about the locovore commitment,” I said.

Linda sighed. “For tonight I am. Some nights I’m so tired when I get home, I could chow down on an endangered species.”

She held the door open for me and picked up her own tray. “As you can see, the yard is low maintenance,” Linda said.

The lot was deep and all grass except for a huge old cottonwood tree in the centre. “I imagine that cottonwood isn’t low maintenance in the fall,” I said.

“You’re right, but it’s so beautiful in the other three seasons, I accept those mounds of leaves as the price I must pay.”

Linda had set a plank table under the tree and her other guests were already seated around it drinking wine. The light poured through the leaves of the cottonwood, making lacy patterns on the women below. “It’s a gorgeous setting for a summer dinner,” I said.

“We all have such busy lives,” Linda said. “I thought we’d enjoy the peace.”

There were only ten of us. I recognized most of the women there, but Margot and Linda were the only ones I knew well. All, except me, were lawyers. The invitation had stated casual, but I had learned that for Margot’s crowd, “casual”
was upscale, and I’d worn a pale grey silk shirt with matching pants, strappy sandals that Taylor had talked me into buying, and a filmy fuchsia scarf that added a splash of colour.

Margot took the platter of appetizers from me and placed it on the table. “You know everyone, don’t you, Joanne?”

“Not as well as I’d like to,” I said. “But I’m counting on tonight to remedy that.”

A small, deeply tanned woman with shoulder-length greying hair poured a glass of Sauterne and handed it to me. “You’ll find this a very welcoming wine,” she said. “I’m Sandra Mikalonis. We’ve met, but it was at a law dinner, and you looked as if you were longing to find the exit.”

“Zack always says I’d never make a poker player, but it’s good to see you again.”

“In a more congenial setting,” Sandra said. She turned to the other women. “Why don’t we all introduce ourselves?”

After the introductions, everyone expressed concern about what had happened to our house, then we got round to the real business of the evening: eating, drinking, and talking.

Given the fact that we were celebrating a wedding, it seemed inevitable that someone would ask Margot about how she and Leland met.

“It’s not a long story,” Margot said. “Somebody brought Leland to my housewarming party when I moved into the condo on Halifax Street. One thing led to another. Leland bought the building where I lived and moved in next door. Not long after he gave me this.” She held up her left hand. Her spectacular diamond was fiery in the dappled light. “And neither of us has ever been happier.”

“Sounds as if you were both ready,” Sandra said. “Whenever I ran into him after his divorce, he was with a different woman.”

“Palate cleansers,” Linda said tartly. “Pleasant, forgettable little nothings to cleanse the palate before the really substantial dish arrived.”

Margot roared. “Leland will love that.” She took a bite of her chanterelle appetizer. “This mushroom thing is fantastic,” she said. “And so is the pate. What’s next?”

“Pickerel and wild rice from La Ronge; more mushrooms from my secret patch; and sugar snap peas from the market.”

It was a splendid meal. By the time we’d polished off the last of the goat cheese soufflé with fresh strawberries, the sun was dipping towards the horizon, the air was cooling, and the conversation was heating up.

Diane, an athletic blonde with a husky laugh and a wicked sense of humour, had just told a story about a law school classmate named Ana who was drop-dead gorgeous but had a very tiny mind.

Margot leaned forward. “I remember her. She didn’t really understand anything, but she had an incredible ability to focus.”