The Nesting Dolls (8 page)

Zack wheeled his chair close to the table. “Thanks for the offer, Maddy,” he said. “But a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. I’m going to tackle these puzzles all by myself.”

Maddy looked at her mother and me and rolled her eyes. Lena opened the caterpillar box and shook out the puzzle pieces. Zack groaned when he saw them. “There must be a hundred pieces there,” he said.

“There are ten,” Lena corrected, “and they’re big.”

Mieka and I went into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on what she called our duelling chilies: mine,
con carne;
hers, vegetarian. We stirred, grated, chopped, and listened to Zack trumpet his success with the puzzle as the girls chortled. When the caterpillar was complete, my husband called me in. “Ms. Shreve, I’d like a picture of this.” The girls posed with him, and I snapped. “You’re a madman,” I said.

“Victors always look a little crazed,” Zack said, then he slid the completed caterpillar into its box and turned to the girls. “We are now cooking with gas. Bring on the piano.”

There had been plenty of groans and giggles from the dining room by the time Peter, our older son, and his girlfriend, Dacia, arrived. They said hello to Zack and the girls, then carried the plastic storage bins of lights and tree ornaments
from the garage through to the family room. They popped off the containers’ lids and began unwinding the lights from their newspaper cones, unwrapping the ornaments, and setting everything out on a trestle table by the tree. Mieka and I had just put Zack out of his agony by announcing that we were setting the dining room table so he had to either move his puzzle or scrap it, when Taylor and Isobel came bounding in, back from the concert. They were beaming, and the source of their pleasure was apparent. Delia and Noah were behind them, and Noah was holding the baby.

“The girls thought you’d like to see Jacob again,” Noah said.

“You bet we would,” I said. “May I take your coats?”

Noah and Delia exchanged glances. “I think we’ll make this a quick visit,” Delia said. “We should get Jacob home. The sooner he knows where he belongs, the better.”

Noah unzipped Jacob’s snowsuit, took off his toque, and carried him around so Jacob could inspect us as we inspected him. Isobel took Jacob’s small hand in hers and followed her father. “He’s a handsome baby, isn’t he?” she said.

Indeed, Jacob was handsome, and in the natural light of the living room, his kinship with Delia and Isobel was even more obvious than it had been the night before in the gym. Jacob’s eyes were brown, so dark they were almost black, but he shared the Wainberg women’s milky white skin and their thick springy hair. Like Isobel and Delia, he was preternaturally alert, tense with the need to take in every detail and assign it a place.

Jacob gave Zack and me a solemn gaze then, apparently finding us satisfactory, he smiled. The dimple Jacob displayed was winning and my husband was easy prey. When Zack held out his arms and Noah handed him the baby, Jacob settled right in.

Noah held out a warning finger. “Hey, don’t get too
comfortable there, Jacob,” he said. “There’s serious bonding to be done and it’s supposed to be with Delia and me.”

“Better get used to sharing him,” I said. “He’s a charmer.” I turned to Taylor. “Your sister’s in the kitchen. You know how she is about babies. If she doesn’t get to hold Jacob, we won’t hear the end of it. And Peter and Dacia will want to get acquainted too.”

The girls came back, and Mieka was right behind them, drying her hands on a tea towel. “Peter and Dacia are walking the dogs,” she said. “But I’m ready for this baby. Hand him over, Zack.”

When she bent to take Jacob, Mieka’s face clouded. She held him out, examining his face, then, still unsmiling, turned to Taylor and Isobel. “Would you two take Maddy and Lena into the kitchen and help them put some cookies on a plate for dessert?”

“We can do that ourselves,” Lena said.

Isobel placed her hand on Lena’s shoulder. “I think your mum has something to say that will be easier to say if we’re not around.”

The four girls disappeared into the kitchen and I caught my daughter’s eye. “What’s up?”

Mieka took Jacob and sat down in the wing chair by the fireplace. “Where’s this child’s mother?” she asked.

“You know her?” I said.

Mieka shook her head. “I don’t know her, but I know who she is. She and this little guy have been at UpSlideDown every day this week.”

Delia’s face was strained. “Did you talk to her?”

“I tried,” Mieka said. “But we’ve been crazy busy. A lot of parents promise their kids that if they behave while they’re shopping, everybody gets to come to UpSlideDown for hot chocolate and a playtime afterward. Anyway, it’s been
hectic. The kids are wired, and the parents are wired, but everybody’s in a good space. I guess that’s why the woman who brought in this little guy was so noticeable.”

“Her name is Abby Michaels,” Delia said bleakly.

Mieka slid the baby out of his snowsuit. “So you’re taking care of Jacob for her?”

“It’s complicated,” Noah said. “Yesterday afternoon, Abby Michaels went to the Luther Christmas concert. When the concert was over, she handed Jacob to Isobel and disappeared. It was just before the blackout, so there was a certain amount of confusion.”

“Why did Abby give her baby to Isobel?” Mieka’s eyes travelled across our faces, searching for an answer.

Noah glanced at Zack, and my husband picked up the thread. “We’ll fill you in on the background later, Mieka. Right now, our concern – everybody’s concern – is Abby Michaels. The police are looking for her, but they don’t have much to go on. Do you know anything that could help?”

“Not really,” Mieka said. “The woman – Abby – would come in around three and stay till we closed at five-thirty. She was so alone. She never connected with the other parents – and she never connected with her baby.”

Delia tensed. “Abby Michaels neglected her child?”

Mieka smiled at the little boy. “He was never neglected – at least not physically. His mother – Abby – cared for him. When he whimpered, she gave him a bottle, and when he turned it down, she took him to the space where other mothers breast-feed.”

“He was breast-fed?” I said. “It’s pretty difficult for a woman not to connect with a child she’s breast-feeding.”

“His mother was trying to wean him, and Jacob obviously wasn’t ready. He knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t a bottle. A lot of women have had that experience, and I’m sure some of the other UpSlideDown regulars would have
been only too willing to trade horror stories, but Abby didn’t encourage conversation.”

“So you left her alone,” I said.

Mieka lowered her eyes. “Yes, and it was hard because she was clearly desperate – not just about the weaning, but about everything. I tried, Mum. I’d linger with the coffee pot when I refilled her cup, but Abby didn’t let me in, and I didn’t push.”

Jacob grabbed at the necklace Mieka was wearing; she smiled at him and loosened his grip. “Once she asked me about the big holiday blast we were having before Christmas.”

“Did she want to bring Jacob?” Noah said.

“No, she’d just noticed that people were stopping by with presents and leaving them under the tree, and she wondered what was going on. I told her parents were supposed to bring a gift for a child who might not be getting many presents.”

“Did Abby bring a gift?” Noah asked.

“I don’t know,” Mieka said. “There’s a mountain of presents, but we ask people to put the toys in gift bags, so that we can make sure the presents are new, safe, and age-appropriate.”

The room was silent. Jacob had found Mieka’s necklace again, and she began uncurling his fingers from the chain and play-biting his fingertips. The game made him chuckle.

Delia watched with a half-smile. “And that’s all?” she said, finally.

Mieka coloured. “Not quite. There is something else, but it’s embarrassing to talk about because it makes me sound like a stalker.” She inhaled deeply. “On Friday evening when Jacob and his mother left, I tried to follow them.”

Zack had often remarked on Mieka’s solid common sense. He was genuinely gob-smacked. “Whatever made you do that?” he asked.

“Impulse? I don’t know. I was just … uneasy,” Mieka said. “It was closing time and Jacob and his mother were still
there. Maddy and Lena had their jackets and boots on and were chomping at the bit to go home, so I went to Abby and said I was sorry but I had to close up. She got herself and the baby ready to leave and came over to pay her bill. She seemed very tired, but after she paid me, she didn’t leave. She gave me this … penetrating look and asked me if I believed in God. When I said I did, she asked how I could reconcile my belief with the cruelties of the world.”

“The unanswerable question,” I said.

Mieka nodded. “Except Abby was so intense. It was as if she had really hoped I might provide an answer. When I didn’t come up with anything, she thanked me and said that I shouldn’t feel badly because there was nothing anyone could do to help her. Then she left.”

Noah put his arm around his wife’s slender shoulders.

“It was so sad, and so final,” Mieka said. “I locked up. When the girls and I started towards our car, I saw that Abby was parked close to us. She was getting Jacob in his car seat and strapping him in. That always takes a while, so I hurried the girls and, when Abby left, I followed her.”

“Where did she go?” Zack said.

“I don’t know,” Mieka said. “She drove down 13th, but when she got to Albert, she ran the light and turned left. There was a car coming across, so I had to stop. By the time the light changed, there must have been twenty cars between us, so I went home. All I know is that she was driving a Volvo – same vintage as yours, Mum, but black. I did manage to get her licence. It was an Ontario vanity plate that spelled out the word
LECTOR –
easy to remember because of Hannibal Lecter in
Silence of the Lambs.”
Mieka’s eyes were both sad and puzzled. “She didn’t seem like the kind of person who would pay money to have the name of a cannibalistic serial killer on her licence.”

“How was it spelled?” Noah asked.

“L-e-c-t-o-r,” my daughter said.

“Lector is Latin for ‘reader’ or ‘lecturer,’ ” Noah said. “That might be significant.”

Zack nodded. “If somebody’s willing to pay money to have a word put on their plate, that word has significance for them.” He took out his BlackBerry and called police headquarters. “Debbie … we may have a break.”

As Mieka gave her information to the Inspector, the Wainbergs zipped Jacob into his snowsuit and snapped him into his car seat. They both looked worried. No one offered words of comfort.

After we closed the door on the Wainbergs, Zack went to change for supper, and I made a last pass through the dining room to see if we’d forgotten anything. Taylor was there, adding a place setting. The slacks and shirt she’d been wearing under her choir robes had been replaced by a deep red jersey dress with a wide black patent-leather belt and a gently flowing skirt.

“Did I miscount?” I said.

Taylor folded a napkin and placed it on the bread and butter plate. “No. I invited somebody. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Anyone I know?”

“You met him last night at the concert. Zack knows him.” She straightened a fork without looking up. “It’s Declan Hunter.”

“Hmm,” I said.

Taylor’s gaze was level. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Your friends are always welcome. You know that.”

“Has Zack said anything about Declan?”

“Zack never talks about his clients.”

“But Declan’s not Zack’s client. His dad is. Declan’s just … ” Taylor shrugged and smiled her old open smile. “He’s just Declan.”

“Well, I’m glad ‘just Declan’ is coming for supper,” I said. “Is he into tree decorating?”

The tension drained from Taylor’s face. “He’s really stoked about this whole evening,” she said.

“You look pretty stoked yourself.”

Her expression was impish. “You’re the one who said I have to feed my art.”

I went to our room to clean up for dinner and found Zack struggling with the price tag on a turtleneck the shade of a eucalyptus leaf. I handed him my manicure scissors so he could snip off the tag, and fingered the material. “Cashmere,” I said. “Very nice.”

“I ordered one for you, too,” he said, pulling on his sweater. “It’s in that box on your dresser.”

I picked up my gift and touched it to my cheek. The material was sinfully soft. “Thank you,” I said. “It’s gorgeous.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But you’re not going to put it on.”

“Mieka says that the day you and I start wearing matching outfits is the day she puts us into Golden Memories.”

“I’ve got pull at Golden Memories. I kept the owner out of the hoosegow. I could get us adjoining rooms.”

I unbuttoned my blouse. “So what did the owner do?”

“He was alleged to have encouraged some of his female guests to give him power of attorney.”

“Did he?”

“All my clients are innocent, Ms. Shreve. Now come on, let’s see the sweater.”

I pulled it over my head and held out my arms.

“Looks better on you than it does on me,” Zack said.

“Thanks,” I said. “For the sweater and for the compliment. Hey, guess who’s coming to dinner?”

“The Green Knight.”

“Close. Declan Hunter.”

Zack’s smile vanished. “How come?”

“Taylor invited him.” I sat down on the bed, so Zack and I could face one another. “She isn’t aware that Declan’s your client,” I said.

“He’s under no legal obligation to tell her.”

“But there are legal issues in his life,” I said.

Zack wheeled closer. “Jo, you know I can’t give you any specifics, but if I thought for a moment that Taylor was in danger, Declan wouldn’t get past the front door.”

“His transgressions are minor?” I asked.

“So far, but they’re the kinds of dumb-ass things that can put a kid on the glide path to disaster, so I worry.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“I do. We had a great time that night we went to the Broken Rack, so in the spirit of camaraderie I asked Declan why he’s so determined to make trouble for himself. He said that it’s easy to get lost when you live in your father’s shadow.”