than you seem to be.”
“I probably would have been more worried,” I said, “except that last night when I called Alex’s apartment, a woman answered.”
“Whoa,” Robert said.
“Exactly,” I said. “Robert, I think that bowl’s clean by now. You can probably stick it in the drainer.”
Robert turned off the tap and faced me. “There are always problems when a man lets his John Thomas do his thinking,” he said sagely.
“His John Thomas?” I said.
Robert picked up on my confusion. “Husband-and-wife talk. I’m sorry. I crossed a line there. All I meant was that Inspector Kequahtooway isn’t thinking clearly, and he needs his friends.”
I poured more tea. “I don’t think Alex considers me a friend any more.”
Robert’s eyes met mine. “Well, if he comes to you, give him a break – please. I know he disappointed you; he disappointed me too, but he’s in a lot of trouble, and he needs a hand.”
Detective Hallam’s car had barely cleared the turn when Zack Shreve appeared at my door.
“Don’t you ever work?” I said.
“I was working,” he said. “But the case is problematic, and I’m procrastinating.” Zack leaned forward, looking around. Finding nothing, he kept wheeling until he was in the kitchen. Willie, intrigued by the wheelchair, stuck with him. “So who was your company?”
“A detective from the Regina Police Force,” I said.
Zack stroked Willie’s head. “What did he want?”
I pointed to the cups on the table. “Tea,” I said.
“One-forty klicks round trip,” Zack said. “You must make a mean cup of Earl Grey.”
“Can I get you one?” I asked.
“No,” Zack said. “But thanks. I came to ask you to have dinner with me tonight. No kids. Just us. There’s a place down the road that opened up on the May long weekend. A young couple runs it. They have a pleasant seasonal menu and, like Magoo’s, they make everything from scratch. Unlike Magoo’s, they don’t have much of a clientele. I don’t give the place six months, but we might as well enjoy it while we can.”
“It’ll have to be early,” I said. “My son and his friends have an Ultimate Tournament.”
Zack frowned. “What’s Ultimate?”
“Come along and see for yourself,” I said. “Is six o’clock okay for dinner?”
Zack winced. “That’s when children eat,” he said. “But beggars can’t be choosers and I need a diversion.”
“The problematic case?”
He nodded morosely. “My client is alleged to have taken a knife to the lover who betrayed her.”
“Another case of a man led astray by his John Thomas,” I said.
Zack raised an eyebrow. “Somehow you didn’t strike me as a John Thomas woman. Be that as it may, the victim’s John Thomas isn’t going to lead him astray any more.”
“Is he dead?” I asked.
“No, but he is without his John Thomas.” Zack’s smile was wolfish. “So I’ll make a reservation for six o’clock?”
“Perfect,” I said.
I saw Zack out, then turned to Willie. “What do you want to do for the next five hours?”
Willie didn’t keep me on tenterhooks waiting for an answer. He went to the hook where I kept his leash, and we were on our way. We ran the horseshoe of Lawyers’ Bay, stopping only to check on the girls’ progress. Project Inukshuk was right on schedule. Seeing Taylor reminded me that I had to make some arrangements for her to have dinner, so Willie and I changed direction and headed for the Point Store. Through the screen door I could see Leah restocking the chocolate-bar display.
Willie hated being tied up, and I hated tying him up, so I just leaned closer to the screen. “How’s it going?” I said.
Leah came over, pushed the door open, and stood on the threshold. “Great,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve found my life’s work, but not many people have summer jobs that involve unlimited access to Werther’s Originals.”
“Since you’re having so much fun, maybe you wouldn’t mind doing me a favour.”
“Anything,” Leah said.
“Could you and Angus give Taylor dinner tonight before the tournament? I’m coming, but I’m going to have meet you at the field.”
“No problem,” said Leah. “So where are you having dinner?”
“With Zack Shreve.”
Leah shivered theatrically. “Ooooh,” she said. “The man who’s mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”
“That was Lord Byron,” I said. “Someone who knew Zack in law school said he attracts women who want to get up close and personal with a chainsaw.”
Leah grinned. “You can handle a chainsaw.” She glanced over her shoulder. A customer had arrived at the checkout, and he had the air of a man who didn’t like to be kept waiting. “Duty calls,” Leah said.
“I’ll catch you later,” I said. “Is Angus around?”
“He took the truck over to Bonnie Longevin’s to get strawberries. We’re going to set up a stand out front here to lure the cottagers.”
“Marketing 101,” I said.
“Something like that,” Leah said. “Anyway, Angus should be back any minute. Help yourself to a cup of our gross coffee and catch a few rays while you wait.”
“I can expand my knowledge, too,” I said. “I always learn something when I visit Coffee Row.”
The old gents were already at their places when I slid into a spot at the picnic table next to theirs. Endzone was there, too. Morris had put a piece of rug on the ground so that the dog didn’t have to lie on the wet grass. As Willie collapsed beside me, he gave me a reproachful look.
“Your dog’s mad at you,” Morris said. “Hang on. I’ll get you something to put under him.” He shoved the stub of his cigarette between his lips, walked over to his half-ton, pulled out a hunk of carpeting, and handed it to me. “Make him a little bed,” he said, and watched until I did as I’d been told. Willie curled up happily. I picked up my coffee and the gents went back to their conversation. As always, I arrived in medias res.
“I’m betting he swallowed his gun,” Morris said.
“Why the hell would anyone swallow his gun?” Stan Gardiner asked.
“He didn’t actually swallow the gun.” Morris hawked a goober disgustedly. “It’s a figger of speech. Jesus, Stan, if you stopped mooning over the champagne lady on Lawrence Welk and watched a real man’s show once in a while, you might join the rest of us in the twentieth century.”
Stan glared at him. “The twenty-first century,” he said. “That’s where the rest of us live, Morris – in the twenty-first century.”
Aubrey entered the fray. “Where we have VCRS that allow us to watch old TV shows and movies whenever we want.”
Morris fixed his friends with a malevolent eye. “And you’re so busy watching those old shows that you lose touch with how people today talk. Nowadays when people speak of a man swallowing his gun, they mean the man killed himself.”
I was keen to see where this discussion of semantics would take us, but at that moment Angus’s truck appeared, and Willie and Endzone got into a barking match. By the time Morris and I had calmed the dogs, the thread of conversation had been broken. As I left to greet my son, the old gents were talking about what would happen to a dog that had his bark removed, a good topic but not, in my opinion, a great one.
When Angus opened the truck’s tailgate, the scent of fresh-picked strawberries was enticing. “Put a quart of those aside for us, will you?” I said.
“Help me unload the truck and I’ll knock off a couple of bucks.” He grinned, and I felt a rush of love for this handsome stranger with the easy ways and quick smile who seemed to move farther from me every day.
“Can we talk a bit first?” I asked.
My son frowned. “What’s up?”
