“And the DVDS still arrived in our mailboxes. That’s why people are so scared. With blackmail, it’s always a plus to know the blackmailer. That’s how you reach some mutually acceptable accord. Obviously, these men knew Cristal intimately. But because she’s dead, we don’t know who’s calling the shots. I never thought I’d say this, but in a way Ned Osler was lucky. He knew exactly who and what he was dealing with.”
“Did he? Zack, did it never strike you as curious that, out of all of her clients, Cristal chose to blackmail the one who treated her well – the one who brought her books and believed she was, like Henry James’s character Isabel Archer, too good for this world?”
He nodded. “It crossed my mind, but then Cristal was dead, and there were all these other problems, so I guess I just shoved that one aside. Jo, the truth is, there’s a lot I can’t figure out about this. I listened to those guys tonight, and usually when I hear the stories, I get a feel for what’s happening, but not with this one. I’m flummoxed, Ms. Shreve.” He picked up one of Taylor’s black and gold pom-poms and twirled it. “But at least Luther won.”
“And while Luther was winning, Blake was disintegrating,” I said. “After the game, Gracie took Taylor around to introduce her to some of her friends, and Blake and I talked. He’s in terrible shape, Zack. He blames himself for not saving Cristal.”
Zack smacked the pom-pom against his hand. “Shit. Talk about a train wreck you can see coming. Cristal was Lily all over again, you know.”
“I know,” I said. “Blake knows too, but that’s not making the loss any easier. He says Cristal was the only one he could really talk to about Lily.”
“Jesus, Jo, how dumb can he be? Doesn’t he understand that Cristal’s schtick was being whatever the man wanted her to be? That’s why she was able to charge $500 an hour. Remember me telling you that when I saw the tape of Cristal with Ned, I couldn’t believe it was the same woman I’d been with? Well, that was true right across the board. Every guy here tonight talked about what Cristal had been like with him. You wouldn’t have known they were talking about the same woman. She changed her act for every customer. The first night I was with her, she poured me a drink and asked me in that little girl voice of hers what my fantasy was.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I said my fantasy was to be able to get it up. She said, ‘So you’re not paying for games, just expertise.’ I agreed, and I got what I paid for. Just the way every guy here tonight got what he paid for. These were commercial transactions – nothing more.”
“Blake doesn’t see it that way. I think he loved her, Zack.”
Zack drew his hand across his eyes. “You know I don’t think I can deal with that tonight. I’m exhausted, Ms. Shreve.”
“Me too,” I said. “Boy, it wouldn’t take many days like this one to make a dozen, would it?”
Zack put his arm around me. “Nope, but at least you and I are headed for the same bed.”
“And it’s going to stay that way,” I said.
CHAPTER 7
The next morning when the dogs and I went for our run, fog hung over the lake and a light rain was falling. Puddles of water were spreading on the grass, so we stayed on the concrete. Willie and Pantera revelled in mud, but I didn’t, and after months of power struggles and the intervention of a dog trainer, I had established myself as the alpha or, at least, as the one who held the leashes. Running in what my grandmother called “the Scottish mist” was always a joy to me. The familiar world was suddenly a place of Brigadoon mystery, and while heather on the hill was in short supply in Wascana Park so were bridges of doom. In my view it was a saw-off. And that day as the dogs and I made our way along the rain-slicked walkway beside the Broad Street Bridge, there was another reward. On the sandy shoreline on the south side of the bridge, a pair of American avocets was foraging in the shallow water with their elegant upturned bills.
The southern part of our province was a favourite breeding place of the avocet, but this pair was the first I’d seen this year. I wasn’t a knowledgeable birder, but I’d always been attracted to quirky pieces of information and avocets provided a romantic one: after mating, the pair crossed their slender bills and walked away together. I was still smiling at that image when the dogs and I started home.
Zack was in the kitchen finishing his coffee and dressed for work in one of his beautiful silk suits. “You look like the cover of
He smiled. “Thank you. You look like you could use a kiss and a shower.”
“Maybe, not in that order,” I said. “I’m sweaty.”
“I thought I detected a powerful pheromonal waft.” Zack held out his arms. “Come on, you can’t let your body send out signals like that and not let me at least cop a feel.”
I kissed him. “Now you’re the one sending out signals,” I said.
Zack looked at his watch. “Damn, and I haven’t got time to follow through. I’ve got a meeting in half an hour. I picked up a new case last night.”
“One of your bad boys?”
“No, a case that one of my bad boys was supposed to be handling. He’s in-house counsel to Peyben, the company that’s developing that new housing tract out by the airport. Peyben is being sued by a clairvoyant who claims she had a vision that the land would be developed and she passed along her vision to one of their executives.”
“And now the clairvoyant wants some of the lolly,” I said. “How come the Peyben lawyer’s handing this off to you?”
Zack raised an eyebrow. “Because he’s obsessed with the Cristal Avilia case, and he’s afraid that if he met with the psychic, she’d be able to read his mind.”
“Oh what tangled webs we weave,” I said.
Zack chortled. “If only you knew. I’d better get a move on, but I’ll see you at UpSlideDown for lunch.”
“You’re coming? That’s a nice surprise.”
“Maddy phoned last night and asked me herself.”
“Get there early,” I said. “Ginny’s filming a campaign spot. So there’ll be cameras and lights and people.”
“Everything’s coming up roses for Ginny?”
“The polls say yes.”
“I heard a bit of her interview on
“You didn’t hear the whole thing,” I said. “At one point a young woman called in. She was reading from a script.”
“A script?”
“It happens,” I said. “Talk-show producers get to know the voices of campaign workers, so sometimes they keep them off air. That’s when organizers turn to novices to spread the good word.”
“Using a script.”
“Novices get off message.”
“And this caller got off message.”
“I don’t think she did,” I said. “I think she read exactly what she’d been given to read. The script was literate, and it started innocently enough. The girl commended Ginny for her good work in the past; then she said Ginny’s contribution was particularly praiseworthy because while she was working for her country, her ex-husband was living off the money he took from prostitutes in Regina.”
Zack’s eyes widened. “Did the caller mention any names?”
“No. Do you think she was referring to Cristal Avilia?”
“These days it seems that all roads lead to Cristal, but I guess she wasn’t the only sex-trade worker servicing rich clients.”
Zack’s words were blunt, matter of fact, and his lack of emotion infuriated me. I slammed down my mug, spilling coffee on the table. “Why is that, Zack? Do guys just finish at work for the day, close down their computers, buy an hour of love, then go home to the wife and kids?”
Zack picked up a napkin and mopped my coffee. “It’s more complicated than that,” he said. “Can we talk about
