“The destination of choice for the maddest of the mad dogs,” Zack said. “The guys who’ve been threatening a full-on war over the land that Leland and Peyben have targeted for redevelopment. Did they blow up our house?”
Debbie’s shrug was weary. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Yesterday outside convocation, Riel said there was something he should talk to me about, but the time wasn’t right,” I said.
Debbie’s eyes were piercing. “And you think that what Riel wanted to talk about had something to do with your house being blown up?”
I shook my head. “No. If Riel was part of the plan, he wouldn’t have sought me out. I guess it’s possible that he knew about what was going to happen, but I can’t believe that if Riel knew about the bombing, he wouldn’t have warned me.”
Zack turned to Debbie. “Have you interviewed Delorme?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. He was down at headquarters this morning, bright and early. He volunteered to do whatever he could to help with the investigation.”
“That’s a surprise,” I said.
“It is,” Zack agreed. “Did Delorme give you anything useful?”
“Nothing that hadn’t occurred to us. He suggested that we look into Red Rage’s recent activities.”
“There’s always mischief afoot with those boys,” Zack said.
“True, but you’ll notice they aren’t under arrest,” Debbie said. “We need evidence and we need a motive.”
“The motive for killing Danny Racette is pretty straightforward,” Zack said. “Somebody wanted to demonstrate that Peyben regarded the workers from the community as expendable. Blowing up Danny Racette was a sure way to keep the anger level against the Village Project high.”
“I’ll buy that,” Debbie said. “So why would Red Rage blow up your house?”
“Obviously they wanted to kill us,” Zack said. “But since that didn’t work out, I guess they’ll have to settle for the pleasure of watching us twist in the wind.”
When I shuddered, Zack put his arm around me. “Let’s not give them the satisfaction.”
We exchanged a long, hard look. “Okay,” I said finally. “Screw them. Let’s get on with the rest of our lives.”
Zack grinned. “You’re a lot tougher than you look, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”
CHAPTER
5
It was a shock to move from the cool interior of the car to the heat of the sidewalk. When Zack was back in his wheelchair, Debbie slipped her coiled notebook into her jacket pocket. “I should get to work,” she said. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Is it possible for us to go inside the house?” Zack asked. “Taylor’s anxious about her paintings. So are we.”
Debbie was vehement. “No way,” she said. “Zack, I’m not even crazy about having our own people in there. It’s dangerous. There might still be explosives around, and there’s no way of knowing if the structure is stable.”
“Any idea about how long it’ll be before we can move back?” Zack asked.
“I’m not an expert,” Debbie said. “But you won’t be able to start construction until the investigation is finished, and that’s going to take time.”
“So are we looking at weeks – months? Zack asked.
“Depending on the extent of damage and your luck at getting a contractor, I think you’re looking at six months minimum, but that really is just a ballpark figure.”
Zack grimaced. “Jeez, Deb, you could have sugar-coated the pill.”
“You wouldn’t have swallowed it,” she said. “Now, I should get back. The faster we get our work down, the sooner your contractor can start.” She squeezed Zack’s shoulder and gave me a quick smile. “I’ll be in touch.”
After Debbie left, a truck from Rapid Rent-All pulled up. Zack and I watched as the driver and two workers took out a portable toilet and temporary metal fencing. They set the portable toilet on an area near the sidewalk that was clear of debris and began to fence off our property.
“We don’t need to watch this,” Zack said. “Let’s go.”
When we turned into the alley, we met Leland Hunter and Declan walking towards us. About four inches above Leland’s right eyebrow was a neat line of stitches. He placed a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “I’m so very sorry,” he said.
“We are, too,” I said.
“As soon as I heard the news, I called your place at the lake,” he said. “Taylor told me you’d come into Regina to check out the damage. I was hoping we’d catch you – is there anything I can do?”
“At the moment I don’t think there’s much any of us can do,” I said. “But in the next while, I imagine we’ll need all the help we can get.”
“I’m available,” Declan said softly. “Is Taylor’s studio all right?”
“I didn’t think to ask,” I said. “It’s a fair distance from the garage, so there’s a possibility …” My sentence trailed off. The enormity of what had happened seemed to come in waves. The memory of Taylor painting in her studio, bathed in the light that poured from the north window, was another blow.
“I’ll call the officer in charge of the investigation,” Zack said. He picked up his BlackBerry. His exchange with Debbie
was brief but positive. “The studio’s fine,” he said. “Thanks for the reminder, Declan.”
“No problem,” Declan said. “I can’t get my head around this. What if Taylor—” His voice broke and he swallowed hard. Leland put his arm around his son’s shoulder, and Declan leaned into him.
It was a nice moment and a significant one. There was a time when Leland wouldn’t have been there to meet his son’s needs, and Declan would have turned to Zack, whose job it was to handle Leland’s personal business. There was plenty to handle. Leland’s family was small, but their problems were large. The alcoholic ex-wife of a very rich man is easy prey to the bottom feeders who insinuate themselves into the lives of the vulnerable. In Leland’s absence, Zack spent hours protecting Louise from herself.
Leland and Louise’s only child had his own share of crises. On Declan’s sixteenth birthday, Zack had taken him to the Broken Rack to shoot a little pool and teach him exactly what the Youth Criminal Justice Act meant for the kind of young offender Declan seemed determined to become.
Zack was good with kids who were danger freaks, probably because he’d lived on the edge most of his life. He and Declan clicked, and the birthday game of pool was just the first of many. Between shots, Zack and Declan talked, and Zack heard enough to alarm him. He called Leland and told him that if he wanted to salvage his son, he should move back to Regina. Leland did. The sudden presence of his father in his life seemed to convince Declan that it was time to pull back from the precipice. He was a changed young man.
Leland’s arm still rested on his son’s shoulders as he turned to Zack and me. “Have you had a chance to think about living arrangements?”
“Not really,” I said. “We have the place at the lake, but the Cronus trial starts Monday, and it’s going to be demanding.”
Leland raised an eyebrow. “A slumlord accused of killing his girlfriend who also happened to be a cop? I imagine it will be demanding.”
“I’ll be keeping crazy hours,” Zack said. “And Taylor still has school and exams.”
“It’s only 145 klicks round trip from Regina to Lawyers’ Bay,” I said. “We can manage it, but we’re going to be making a lot of round trips.”
“Too many,” Zack said flatly. “Living at the lake during the week isn’t going to work, Jo. We’re going to have to find something in Regina.”
“My condo’s available,” Leland said. “I’m already living with Margot and we’re going to be travelling with Declan in August, so there’ll be nobody on the top floor. As you saw the other night, the condo is fully accessible, and God knows, that building is secure.
Zack looked up at me. “Do we want to talk about this?”
Life was moving too quickly. “It’ll take weeks to find a fully accessible rental with a solid security system,” I said. “And we don’t have weeks. It’s a generous offer, Leland, and we accept.”
“It’s settled then,” Leland said. He handed me his key card. “Why don’t you and Zack go by Halifax Street and take a look before you go back to the lake. My housekeeper’s number is by the phone in the kitchen. Her name is Jasmina Tervic, and if you call her, she’ll have the place ready so you can move in tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll get some of my guys over here to look at what it will take to rebuild.”
I dropped the key card in my bag. “I don’t know how to thank you, Leland.”
“No thanks necessary. You and I both know that this is the least I can do.” He looked at his son. “Ready to go, Declan?”
“Not quite,” Declan said. “I need to talk to Zack and Joanne for a minute.”
Leland shrugged. “Do you want me to go on ahead?”
Declan shook his head. “No. It’s not a secret or anything. It’s just – I got a text from Taylor. I was supposed to go out to the lake tomorrow night. Taylor said she still wants me to come. I told her I’d ask you.” He shifted his focus to us. “Look, I really understand if you’d just like to be by yourselves for a while.”
“If Taylor wants you at the lake, and you want to be at the lake, then that’s where you should be,” I said. “We could get the boat out and go to Magoo’s for dinner. The sooner we get back to real life, the better,”
“Exactly what is Magoo’s?” Leland asked.
“It’s a diner across the lake from us,” Zack said. “We usually take the boat over. They make their own burgers, and their French fries and onion rings are greasy enough to satisfy Joanne and Taylor. Magoo’s also has a jukebox that doesn’t play anything that was written after 1980 and a wooden dance floor that I dominate.”
“You dance?” Leland asked.
“He’s very good,” I said. “He’s also exhausting. As long as the Beach Boys have one more chorus about the advantages of quitting high school and getting married, Zack won’t leave the floor.”
“Litigator by day, Beach Boy by night,” Leland said.
“That’s pretty much it,” I said. “But why don’t you and Margot come out to the lake with Declan so you can see for yourself?”
“Another time,” he said. “You don’t want people around when you’re dealing with a crisis.”
It would have been easy to blow off Leland’s concern with polite words about how he and his family were always welcome, but I seemed to have moved past easy answers. I touched his arm. “Actually, Leland, I don’t know what we want,” I said. “All I know is that Taylor has been rocked by
this. Spending an evening with people she likes, doing what we’ve done dozens of times, might help her believe that the old safe world is still in place.”
Leland’s smile was ironic. “Thanks for considering me part of the old safe world. I’ll check with Margot.”
The call was brief. “She’d be delighted,” Leland said. “When would you like us?”
“Early,” Zack said. “Come around four. You can have a swim and we can all have a drink before dinner. Magoo’s doesn’t serve anything stronger than milkshakes.”
When we were buckled into our seats, Zack turned to me. “We’re alone. You can take off your game face.”
“Was it that apparent?” I said.
“Only to me,” he said. “You’re making all the right moves, Ms. Shreve.”
“Having Leland as a friend smoothes the rough edges,” I said, and my voice was tight. “Our house blows up and twelve hours later we’ve already got a condo and the promise of a contractor. No wonder the people in North Central hate us.”
Zack’s eyes flashed. “Guilt isn’t going to help here, Jo. We had some lousy luck and now we’re having some good luck. Let’s just play the hand we’ve been dealt.”
“Easier to play the hand we’re dealt when we get so many of the good cards,” I said.
“Jesus, Jo. Could you let it go?”
I looked at my husband who hadn’t walked in forty-four years. Who hadn’t known a day without pain and who never complained. I unbuckled my seat belt and moved closer to him. “Do you know what we need?” I asked.
“A referee?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of forty-five minutes in the No-Tell Motel.”
Zack’s smile started slow and ended big. “Forty-five minutes? You flatter me.”
I kissed him hard. “I was counting on a quick game of rummy first.”
“You’re on,” Zack said. “But let’s wait till we get back to the lake. I’ve got a thing about bedbugs.”
“In that case,” I said, “why don’t we stop by Mieka’s and see the girls? The kids could probably use some reassurance that we’re all right.”
“I could use a little reassurance myself,” Zack said.
The front entrance was not accessible, so as we always did, Zack and I headed for the backyard. We heard the fluty voices of our granddaughters before we saw them. Mieka and the girls were throwing around a beachball, but as soon as we rounded the corner and the girls spied Zack, the beachball was forgotten and they sped towards him. After two and a half years, he was still their shiny, star-spangled top banana. Lena leapt on to his lap and Madeleine stood close to his chair. Mieka stayed where she was, holding the ball in front of her.
The week before I had taken the girls shopping for swim-suits, and they were wearing their purchases. Madeleine’s navy suit was simply cut and functional; Lena’s, a pink and purple homage to the Disney princesses, had a little skirt. Both girls were sporting summer haircuts. As the girls twirled to show off their new ’dos, Zack murmured appreciatively. “Très mignon,” he said. “You obviously went to Paris.”
Lena scrunched her face. “Granddad, you know that Chantelle at Head to Toe always cuts our hair, and Head to Toe is just up at River Heights.”
“True,” Zack said. “Still there’s a certain je ne sais quoi about your hair. Perhaps Chantelle is from Paris.”
“She’s from Shaunavon,” Madeleine said flatly, and there was something in her voice that suggested discussion of Paris
was now fini. “Granddad, why don’t you and Mimi come watch us swim. My dive is getting better, and Lena can swim almost the whole length of the pool underwater.”
The pool was an albatross with an ancient and cranky circulation system and a whining need for constant and expensive repairs. But Madeleine and Lena, like their mother, her brothers, and Taylor, found magic in its waters, so year by year, the pool’s life was extended. As with many aging beauties, a trick of the light could do wonders for the old pool, and that June day, the shafts of sunlight hit the water at exactly the right angle, restoring the pool to its former glory.