Mieka by offering to take the granddaughters up to the lake with us this weekend.”
“Give Mieka a chance to invite Sean over for a candlelight dinner?”
“No. I think that fizzled. I haven’t heard anything about Sean in a while. Mieka seems to have decided that she and the girls are doing fine on their own.”
“Well, that solves a problem for me.”
“What to do about Sean?”
Zack nodded. “Actually, Sean may have solved the problem himself. I’m pretty certain he’s going to work for Ginny. If Mieka’s heart won’t be broken, it’ll be a win-win situation all around. Good for Sean, good for Ginny, and good for Falconer Shreve. Disgruntled associates have a way of poisoning the well. Now, I’d better get going. I’m in court this afternoon, and if I don’t want to step on my joint I should go through the files again. There’s other stuff, but I guess I can take that to the lake with me.”
“No,” I said. “You can’t.”
Zack grinned. “Right you are, ma’am.”
That afternoon, all my needs were met on three blocks of 13th Avenue. My first stop was UpSlideDown. There was a birthday party in progress, and it was time for cake. Eight red chairs had been drawn up to two yellow tables and eight mothers were trying to herd eight little boys into place. There was a Bob the Builder cake, Bob the Builder party hats, and Bob the Builder balloons and noisemakers, which were wholly redundant because the noise level was already ear-shattering.
I smiled at my daughter. “Testosterone central,” I said.
Mieka looked wistful. “You know how much I love my ladies, but I always thought it would be fun to have a boy too.”
“You have time.”
“True, but you need either a man or a turkey baster to get things started, and I’m still using my turkey baster for basting turkeys.”
“Funny girl. What happened with Sean?”
“Nothing. Apparently a lot of women get a crush on their divorce lawyers. You’re feeling vulnerable and all of a sudden you’ve got somebody who’s on your side and taking care of all your problems.”
“And that’s all it was? Just a crush?”
“I wanted more. I guess Sean didn’t. Mum, I really am fine with this.”
“So if Sean were to take a job with Ginny and move to Ottawa, you wouldn’t be heartbroken.”
My daughter picked up a noisemaker and blew. The sound it produced was somewhere between a wheeze and a death rattle. Mieka grimaced. “Unlike this noisemaker, I will survive,” she said. “Now, pushy mama, I’ve got a Bob the Builder cake to dole out. Do you want to give me a hand with the drinks?”
“Sure,” I got the juice boxes from the fridge and put one at each place. Mieka brought the cake with the candles blazing and the mothers sang, “Happy Birthday.”
I put my arm around her. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?”
“About a thousand times,” she said. “But, hey, shut up some more.”
“Listen, I have a favour to ask. Could Taylor stay overnight at your place tonight?”
“That’s no favour. Taylor plays hide and seek with the girls for hours, and she helps with baths.”
“I thought in return, Zack and I could take the girls to the lake for the weekend.”
Mieka’s eyes widened. “Now that’s a favour.” She smiled impishly. “Gives me a chance to try out a new turkey baster.”
After I left Mieka’s I went to Pacific Fish, a shop that, despite its name, had the best pickerel and northern pike south of Lac La Ronge; then to Bernard Callebaut for our favourite dark chocolates; and finally to the Cheese Shop where, Dacia had assured me, I could get the Boursin au Poivre Zack loved. The Cheese Shop had only been open since the beginning of May and this was my first visit.
Dacia was with a customer, so I had a chance to look around. On the counter by the cash register was a simple glass vase of gerbera daisies: white, yellow, and flaming orange. The mingled smells of a world of cheeses were heavenly. Dacia was wearing white overalls and an orange shirt, and her pretty hair was tied back with an orange and white striped kerchief. Her skin was olive and already tanned – she looked very Mediterranean and, as Angus said, very lovely in a round way. When her customer left, she came over. “My spies tell me you’re on the lookout for some Boursin au Poivre,” she said in her lyrical storyteller’s voice.
“Your spies are right,” I said. “It’s Zack’s favourite.”
“And your favourite is Gorgonzola,” she said. “Here, have a taste.”
“Keep paying those spies,” I said. “That is superb.”
“There’s more where that came from,” she said. “We have an Oka that is the best I’ve sampled.”
“Bring it on,” I said. As we tasted and talked, Dacia told me what to look for in various cheeses.
“How did you get so knowledgeable?” I said.
“My grandmother had a cheese shop in Saskatoon. I grew up working there. She decided it was time to expand, so she bought this shop for me when I graduated from university.”
“What’s your degree in?”
“Comparative religion. My grandmother thought I’d need a way to support myself while I found truth.”
“Very sensible.”
“My grandmother’s a very sensible woman. Speaking of family, Peter and I had dinner with my parents last night.”
“How did that go?”
“Peter was a hit. He’s a great listener, which is lucky because both my parents are great talkers. And you’ll be relieved to hear that his name is numerologically sound. My last boyfriend’s name was Walter Johnson, and my parents were always trying to get him to change his name to Volter Ivanovski – more positive vowels. My parents take it very seriously. For me it’s just a party trick – something fun to do when you meet somebody new.”
“So the name Jason Brodnitz would be…”
Dacia did some quick figuring. “He would be a six.”
“So much for that theory,” I said.
“What theory?” Dacia asked.
“Zack’s working on a case in which someone is identified by a number. I had a hunch about the numerology thing, but it didn’t work out.”
I paid for my purchases, invited Dacia to join us at the lake for the July long weekend, and went out to my car. Once again, I’d left my cell on the dash. It was ringing – Zack’s ring tone. I picked up. “God, I’m glad to get you,” he said. “Where’ve you been?”
“Buying you Boursin au Poivre. Zack, is something wrong? You sound a little… tense.”
Zack’s laugh was short. “I’m more than a little tense, Jo. Jason Brodnitz is dead. Ginny called me. She’s at Jason’s house. She went there to talk to him and found him with a knife in his chest.”
CHAPTER 11
Suddenly the sunshine I had welcomed in the first hours of the day seemed too bright and too harshly revealing. I thought of Jason Brodnitz, the broken, defeated man I had seen in court on the day he withdrew his suit for custody of his girls; then I thought of
“Are you going to represent Ginny?” I asked.
“Looks that way,” Zack said. “And I’ve got a call in to Sean. Ginny trusts him, and he’s familiar with Brodnitz’s background.”
“This is all so terrible,” I said.
“Agreed,” Zack said. “But there’s work to be done. I’m going to be holed with my client and the cops for a while. Could you call Keith and let him know what’s happened? And, Jo, I’d be grateful if you’d track down Blake and tell him to get away for a few days till the dust settles.”
