by Gail Bowen
“And while you talked, you listened to ‘A Rainy Night in Soho’ by the Pogues at least fifty times,” I said.
“Jill told you that?”
“She did. When she was here on Friday, she also told me you were one of the best parts of her life.”
“And now that part is gone because she had an affair with my father and I couldn’t forgive her.” Mieka drew a deep breath. “Mum, I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t either, but I came across something that might help. Hang tight. I won’t be long.”
My laptop was in the kitchen. So were Zack, Charlie and Des. Charlie was slouched in his chair with his long legs extended. Des’s cradle was positioned close to Zack’s wheelchair, and Zack was rocking it. The world outside was grey and stormy, but the overhead light in the kitchen enclosed the two men and the baby in a pool of warm light. It was a comforting scene.
I went over to check on Desmond. He was fast asleep. I squeezed my husband’s shoulder. “They say the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world,” I said.
Zack grinned. “At this moment, that is exactly how I feel,” he said.
“Hold on to that vibe,” I said. When I picked up my laptop from the table by the back door, Charlie tensed. “Is everything okay with you and Mieka?’
“Yes,” I said. “I think we’ve just about finished what we had to do.”
When she saw my laptop, Mieka raised an eyebrow. “Puppy videos to strengthen my resolve?”
“I’m saving the puppy videos till later,” I said. “But bring your chair closer; this is worth watching too.” I turned on my laptop and pulled up the page I had bookmarked. “Not long ago, I came upon the word ‘Kintsugi’ in something I was reading,” I said. “When I searched it, this picture of a ceramic bowl with irregular gold stripes came up. I learned that in Japanese Kintsugi means ‘golden scar,’ and the gold stripes are the bowl’s ‘scars.’ Kintsugi is a Japanese art form that consists of filling the cracks of broken objects with gold. You can read the article for yourself, but the philosophy behind the art form stuck with me. In our culture if we break something, we’re angry and frustrated, and we throw out the pieces. But the Japanese believe that all the pieces are part of a whole and they belong together.
“The teacher who coached our basketball team at Bishop Lambeth’s used to say, ‘Behind every scar, there’s a story.’ I don’t imagine Miss Talbot ever studied Japanese art, but I think that’s the principle behind Kintsugi too. Kintsugi reminds us that instead of being hidden, the broken parts of us should be known and recognized because they make us the people we are.”
As I related what I had learned, Mieka’s gaze remained fixed on the picture of the shallow green bowl with the gold stripes. When I moved to turn off the laptop, she stopped me. “Just one more minute, please,” she said. “I have an idea, but I need a little more time with that bowl to make sure I’m on the right track.”
I sat back in my chair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For a long while, I watched the embers in the fireplace and hoped.
Finally, my daughter turned to me. “Could you send this link to me, Mum? I’m not making any promises, but I think the story behind this bowl may give Jill and me a place to start.” She stood and came over to me. “Let’s save the puppy videos for next time. I have a lot to think about right now.”
“I’ll send Jill’s contact information along with the link,” I said. “Just in case.”
When we returned to the kitchen, Charlie leapt to his feet to Mieka. “Everything okay?”
Mieka slid her arm around her husband’s waist. “We’re on the right track,” she said.
“Good. Now, I hate to cut the visit short, but I think we should get back to the city. That rain is not going to let up, and I know the road from here to the highway has been improved, but I don’t want to push our luck.”
Mieka went to the cradle and picked up Des. “I’m going to take this guy into the family room and feed him. Mum, would you mind calling Taylor and letting her know that we’re going to be leaving soon? I know Maddy and Lena will want to give you and Zack a hug.”
By the time Taylor arrived with the girls, Des was fed and bundled into his hooded bunting, and Mieka and Charlie had donned their rainwear. I could tell from the girls’ faces that their talk with Taylor had gone well. The awkwardness had given way to exuberance. There were plans to be made: Thanksgiving all together and visits with Taylor and Gracie in Saskatoon.
After we’d waved off the Kilbourn-Dowhanuiks, Taylor drew a deep breath and exhaled. “That was an intense afternoon. I told Maddy and Lena that nothing was off the table. They could ask me anything, and I would answer every question honestly.”
Zack gave our daughter a mock scowl. “You do realize you should never have made that offer without having a lawyer by your side.”
Taylor laughed. “I’ll take you along next time, Dad. It was pretty brutal. The girls weren’t brutal. They were very tender with me. In fact, our whole time together was very warm and comforting. I put on the wood stove, and we sat on the couch together. Maddy was on one side of me, Lena was on the other, and we talked about everything: love, sex, why being faithful mattered, why trust was important and some other subjects the ladies might wish remain private. Finally, Madeleine and Lena both asked me two of the questions I’ve been asking myself. Would Vale and I ever be a couple again? Would I ever fall in love again? Answering those questions honestly wasn’t easy, but I did it, and I’m glad.”
“I’m glad too,” I said. “Madeleine and Lena look up to you. They’re on the cusp of young womanhood and having a frank talk with you about who to love and how to love is something they’ll remember.”
“It’s something I’ll remember too,” Taylor said. “Can I stay here and eat leftovers with you? I’m bushed. Madeleine and Lena asked all the right questions, but after coming up with all those honest answers, I’m in need of something more substantial than a can of cold pork and beans.”
Zack held out his arms to her. “You’ve come to the right place. The grub’s good, the price is right and although the help tends to hover, they mean well.”
Chapter Fifteen
Zack and I had started our day in a particularly pleasant way, and as I left to take Pantera and Esme for their morning run, Zack was in the shower singing “Ring of Fire.” The path to the lake was muddy, so the dogs and I stayed on the grass, circling the cottages, the gazebo on the point and the woods. The run was far from strenuous; the air was fresh with the scent of wet grass and evergreens; the sun was bright; and I arrived home in a mellow mood.
Zack was sitting at the kitchen table checking his phone. He was dressed for the office, and he was clearly preoccupied. The dogs’ water dishes were filled, so I poured Zack and me a glass of orange juice. “What’s with the lawyer suit?” I said.
“Warren Weber called a few minutes ago. Patti Morgan is dead. They don’t know exactly when she died. The best guess seems to be early this morning.”
I took a sip of juice. “It’s hard to know what to say. Patti was going through hell. Was it suicide?”
Zack sighed. “As cruel as this sounds, I wish it were that simple. Mike Braeden discovered Patti’s body. He’d arranged with their housekeeper, Halima, to pick up his winter clothing this morning. The clothing was in the front hall, packed and ready for pick up, but the box where Mike kept cufflinks and memorabilia was on his dresser.
“Halima had left a note for him on the table in the front hall where the Braedens kept mail. She said she had a doctor’s appointment and she’d called upstairs when she arrived, but Patti hadn’t responded, so Halima assumed she was still sleeping. She told Mike that Patti took pills to help her sleep, and she was certain he could pick up the jewellery box without awakening her.”
“So, Mike went upstairs,” I said.
Zack nodded. “He found Patt
i lying face down on the bed. He tried CPR, but when that didn’t work, he called Warren Weber. Warren called 911. Warren’s there with Mike now. As is Debbie Haczkewicz, and my presence has been requested.”
If the head of Major Crimes was on the scene, the case was heavy stuff, and high stakes meant more stress and punishing hours. I leaned forward. “Do you have to take this on?” I said. “We promised we were going to cut back.”
“That’s why I called Maisie just before you got in and asked her to meet me at the Braeden home. If the need arises, Maisie will take the lead, and I’ll be second chair.”
“You won’t mind that?”
“Not at all. Maisie has been second chair for me a half-dozen times, and I’ve been second chair for her once. We work well together, and I value life with you too much to do anything that might cut it short.”
“That’s exactly what I needed to hear,” I said. “Give me ten minutes to get dressed and load the dogs into the car, and I’ll drive you to University Park Road.”
* * *
The road to the highway was not in bad shape, but it required focus, so Zack and I remained silent until we turned onto the highway.
“I know you can’t say much, but if you want to talk, I’m here.”
Zack patted my leg. “I appreciate that. I also appreciate the fact that at the end of the day, you’ll be there, and I won’t have to be alone with my thoughts.”
“Is there something particular that’s worrying you?”
“No. When Warren called, he was pretty close-mouthed — understandably, because I’m sure he was surrounded by members of Regina’s finest. It’s nothing concrete, Jo. Just a nagging sense that there’s more trouble ahead.”
“We’re the only ones on the highway.” I tried a joke. “Want me to hang a U-ey? We could be back in Lawyers Bay in fifteen minutes?”
Zack’s smile was weary. “If I had three wishes, that would be all of them,” he said, “but duty calls.”
* * *
Police cars blocked off the area in front of the Braeden house, so I had to drop off Zack. I watched as he made his way through the gauntlet of police officers, and when the front door was opened, my husband turned and waved to me. The house was not accessible, and I winced as two brawny police officers picked up Zack’s chair and carried him inside. I knew that an already bad day had just become worse for him.
Zack called around noon with an update. He and Maisie were going back to Falconer Shreve to make some decisions about how best to proceed, and he would be home for dinner at the regular time. That left me with an afternoon free to tackle a task I’d been putting off. I’d harvested the root vegetables, but I still hadn’t cleared off the vegetable garden.
I donned my gardening gloves and floppy sun hat, took a wheelbarrow and rake from the garage and went to the backyard to check the damage. As I’d anticipated, the vegetable garden was a mess of dead and dying plants. Cleaning away the debris was therapeutic, and when the beds were clear, I wheeled out two bags of compost and mulch. I was contemplating my next task when just as she had three weeks earlier, Julie Evanson Gallagher Fairbairn appeared around the corner of the house.
I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. “We have to stop meeting like this, Julie.”
“I rang your doorbell repeatedly, but no one answered.”
“That’s because there is no one in the house.”
“I’m not in the mood for banter, Joanne. I need to talk to you.”
“Fair enough. I was just about to take a break. Zack and I were at the lake, and the patio furniture is still in the garage, but we can sit at the picnic bench.”
We took our places directly across from each other and, at close range, I noticed there was something different about Julie. In the thirty-five years I’d known her, I’d seldom seen her less than immaculate. But that morning the silver hair that always fell smoothly from its central part to Julie’s mid-cheek was dishevelled, and her makeup had been hastily applied.
However, the differences in Julie went beyond the cosmetic. Over the years, storms might have lashed her psyche, but Julie had never dropped her mask of steely control. That afternoon she seemed lost, and despite our rocky history, I reached out to her. “Has something happened, Julie?”
It wasn’t easy for Julie to open up. For a long while, she hesitated, biting her lip. “It’s Clay,” she said finally. “I’m losing him.” After that, the words poured. “That girl has him wrapped around her little finger. I need an ally, and I know I have one in you. Thalia told Clay you don’t like her, that you tried to convince Alison Janvier to reject the podcast she and Clay are working on together.”
“That’s not true, Julie.”
She batted a dismissive hand in my direction. “I don’t give a damn if you did or did not. That’s the least of my worries. This morning I heard Thalia’s voice in Clay’s bedroom, and I walked in on them.
“Clay and I argued. We’ve never argued. There’s been no reason to, and now . . . He said terrible things, vile things, and all the time he was castigating me, that slut lay in his bed with the covers pulled aside, so I could see that she was half-naked. When I told her to put on some clothes and get out, Clay grabbed my arm and pulled me into the hall.
“He’s such a handsome boy, but he was so angry I could barely recognize him. I told Clay that Thalia was just using him, manipulating him the way she manipulates all of them. I said that she used her body to keep them all in line.
“And then . . . and then, Joanne, my grandson said, ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Julie’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “And he slapped me across the face.” Julie’s hand moved towards her cheek. She touched it, tentatively at first and then she pressed hard and began rubbing it. She continued numbly pressing against it until the tears came.
Julie was pale and shaking. I was afraid she was sliding into shock. I got up and put my arms around her shoulder. “Come inside with me. You’re cold. I can put on the fireplace and give you some blankets.”
Docile as a child, she followed me inside. I turned on the fireplace and pulled a chair close to it. Then I wrapped her in blankets. The tea I gave her was milky and very sweet. She drank it quickly and then held her cup out for more. For a few moments we sat side by side watching the fire. Gradually Julie’s breathing became more regular and her body relaxed.
Finally, she turned to me. “What should I do, Joanne?”
“Did Clay offer any explanation for why Thalia was in his bed?”
“He tried. He said Thalia texted him around five o’clock this morning. She was out for her morning run in Wascana Park and a man started following her. He tried to attack her, but she managed to get away. Thalia told Clay where she was, and he picked her up and brought her home. He suggested she stay in the guest room, but she was afraid to be alone.”
“Did they report the attack to the police?”
“She wouldn’t let him. When Clay said that, I told him I didn’t believe a word of Thalia’s story, and he shouldn’t either. Clay said he believed her because she’d never lied to him.”
“Had the man touched her?”
“According to Thalia, he tried. He ran past her and then jumped in front of her, blocking her way. The man grabbed at that necklace she always wore and said something about dragging her into the bushes. She pulled away and the necklace broke. Clay said Thalia was devastated over losing the necklace. Apparently, it had some significance for her.”
“Was your husband there when the argument with Clay happened?”
“No, Hugh was already at the office.”
“Julie, you asked what you should do. You’re not going to like what I say, but I think you should call Hugh and the two of you can work this out together. You’ve raised Clay and you both love him. In my opinion, the best thing to do is sit down with Clay and Thalia, and hear them out.”
/> “Do you believe her story, Joanne?”
“I do, because I know what that necklace meant to Thalia. The amulet the chain held contains a lock of Thalia’s brother’s hair. Thalia was never without the necklace. She and her brother were very close. I don’t believe she would have risked losing that amulet if this were some ploy to manipulate your grandson.”
“I’ll call Hugh. We can’t lose Clay.”
“You’re making the right decision.”
Julie inhaled deeply. Her colour was returning and when she stood and squared her shoulders, she was herself again. “Hugh and I will face them together, and we’ll do what’s necessary,” she said. “The idea of capitulating to that little bitch makes me sick, but I’ll bide my time.” Julie’s eyes narrowed. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat, Joanne. Just watch me.”
After Julie left, I sank into my chair, stared at the fire and marvelled at the amazing resilience of Julie Evanson Gallagher Fairbairn. In less than an hour she had moved from the shattered figure of defeat to a warrior with a plan that would begin with capitulation but end in victory. Once again, Julie’s universe was unfolding as it should.
* * *
Zack called at five to say he was finished for the day, and if I wasn’t busy, he’d welcome a ride home. When I picked him up outside the glass tower that houses the Falconer Shreve offices, he looked exhausted. After he’d transferred his body to the passenger seat, collapsed his wheelchair and stowed it in the space behind us, I leaned across and kissed him. “I won’t ask you about your day if you don’t ask me about mine,” I said.
His smile was weary. “Deal,” he said.
And we didn’t exchange another word till Zack poured the martinis and we’d had our first sip. “I’ll go first,” Zack said, “because, although it was a lousy day, I have some news that I think will please you.
