scene, my mind raced through the kaleidoscope of possibilities that might have brought him out in a blizzard. None of them was good. When his eyes found me, they betrayed nothing, and as he walked towards me, my heart began to pound. “Has something happened to one of the kids?” I asked.
Alex’s obsidian eyes were warm. “No. Your family’s fine, Jo. This is about another matter.” He gestured to a stone bench in the lobby. “Let’s sit down.”
The gallery had a number of benches upon which the weary could share space with a sculptured figure that, reflecting our politically sensitive times, represented the full spectrum of our citizens: male, female, young, old, aboriginal, non-aboriginal, executive, worker. Alex had pointed to my favourite, a pregnant woman in a sundress and sandals, reading a book. He knew that particular bench reminded me of a good time in my own life, but his first words made it clear that chance not memory had determined his choice.
“About an hour ago, we had a call,” he said. “Someone trying to deliver a meat order to the Hotel Saskatchewan ran over a man’s body. In the blizzard, the driver didn’t recognize what he saw as human – he thought it was just a snowbank.”
My nerves tightened. “What’s the connection with me?”
“The deceased had the numbers for both your home and your cell in his pocket, Jo. They were the only local tie-in, so it seemed logical to start with you.”
A flash. Gabe smiling. Wouldn’t it be ironic if this wedding was the start of a real love affair? I covered my face with my hands.
Alex swallowed hard. “So you do know the man.”
“His name is Gabriel Leventhal. He was supposed to be the best man at Jill’s wedding today. He told the groom he was going back to New York City.”
“He didn’t make it,” Alex said stiffly.
“How did he die?”
“They don’t know. The blizzard will make determining the time of death a little tricky, and, of course, the truck driving over him wasn’t exactly a lucky break.”
“For you,” I said furiously. “Not great for him either, but that’s not your concern, is it?”
Alex ignored my outburst. “Were you intimate?’
“Yes,” I said, “but not in any way you’d understand.” I regretted the words immediately, not just because they were intended to wound, but because they were untrue. When I began to weep, Alex rubbed the back of my neck in a gesture of intimacy that evoked times when his touch was all I needed to restore me. More coals heaped upon my head.
CHAPTER
4
When I stopped crying, Alex waited for a moment, then offered me a tissue. Beside me, the stone pregnant woman with her secret knowing smile read on, tranquil and impervious. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just – this is such a shock. Last night Gabe was so alive, full of plans.” I met his eyes. “How many times have you heard someone say that?”
“It doesn’t make it any less true.” Alex held my gaze. “We don’t know what’s ahead, Jo. That’s how we manage to get up in the morning.” He ran his hand through his hair to comb out the melting snow. “Let’s stick to business. The next of kin need to be notified. Does Mr. Leventhal have any relatives in Regina?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “He’s an American – from New York City.”
“Then I’m going to have to ask you to make the ID.” Alex eyed my gown. “Your neighbour told me you were here for a wedding. How long do you think you’ll be?”
“The formal part of the reception doesn’t take long: just a few toasts and the cake cutting. I can be out of here in half an hour.” My response sounded confident, but my body felt boneless. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe deeply, but the image of me walking into the morgue and seeing Gabe’s body was too much. “I can’t do it, Alex,” I said. “I’m not even the logical person to ask. I just met Gabe last night at the rehearsal dinner; Evan’s known him for years.”
Alex’s eyes grew hard. “But you said you and Mr. Leventhal were intimate.”
“I just meant we clicked. We enjoyed one another’s company; we planned to get together today, but I really don’t know that much about him. I don’t think there are next of kin. Evan will know.”
“Fair enough,” Alex said. “But asking a groom to identify the body of his best man on his wedding day seems a bit harsh.”
“Evan’s very controlled.”
“Good,” Alex said. “Given the condition of his friend, he’ll need to be.”
Alex and I walked into a party mellowed by hot jazz, great food, smart talk, and servers who had been instructed to allow no glass to remain empty for longer than ten seconds. The room couldn’t have been more welcoming, but I felt Alex grow tense beside me. He could have faced a firing squad without flinching, but social situations were agony for him. Out of habit, I squeezed his arm; then, suddenly feeling awkward, I withdrew my hand and, anxious for a purpose, searched the crowd until I found Evan. He and Jill were making the rounds, accepting congratulations.
For the first time that day, Jill seemed genuinely happy, her face flushed with the pleasure of being with friends again. When she spotted Alex, she gave me an impish smile. After my relationship with him had come to an end, Jill had called from Toronto every night for a month. She was the only one who knew how deeply Alex’s brief affair with another woman had wounded me, and that night she couldn’t hide her pleasure at seeing us together again.
As soon as she and Evan came over, she held out her arms to Alex. “It’s so good to see you,” she said. “I don’t need to hear the details. I’m just glad you’re here.” Jill turned to her new husband, “Evan, this is Alex Kequahtooway – Inspector Alex Kequahtooway of the Regina Police Force. Alex, Evan MacLeish.”
Alex offered his hand. “Congratulations,” he said.
“Thanks.” Evan was tight-jawed as he took Alex’s measure. “Am I wrong in assuming there’s more on your mind than wishing us well?”
Alex didn’t falter. “No, I’m here on police business.” His eyes met Jill’s. “I’m sorry, Jill. I really was hoping I could talk to Mr. MacLeish alone.”
“We seemed to have closed that option,” Evan said.
“I guess we have,” Alex replied. “So here’s the situation. A man’s body was found behind the Hotel Saskatchewan this afternoon. We have reason to believe the deceased is Gabriel Leventhal.”
Jill’s face grew dangerously pale. “Was it his heart?” she asked.
Alex took out his notepad. “Did Mr. Leventhal have a history of heart problems?”
Evan answered for her. “He had a history of hypochondria. Last night he thought he had an angina attack. He said it was mild, but it was obvious he was shaken.”
“When did this happen?” Alex had his pencil poised.
Evan looked away. “I don’t know. Sometime in the night. Gabe’s room at the hotel was across from mine. I was asleep. I heard a knock at my door, and it was Gabe. He said he was experiencing some pain in his shoulder and he thought he should go back to New York and consult his doctor.”
“Did you suggest he see a doctor here?” Alex asked.
“Why would I? He was a hypochondriac. A hundred doctors could have told him his heart was sound and it wouldn’t have changed anything.” Evan’s tone was flat, the way his daughter’s had been when Jill asked Bryn if she’d been disturbed by seeing her aunt wear Annie Lowell’s wedding dress.
Evan’s lack of emotion goaded me. “What happened to ‘Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a great battle’? You knew what kind of battle Gabe was fighting, why didn’t you check to see if he was all right?”
“Jo, I’m attempting to get some answers here.” Alex’s warning was clear, but I ignored it.
“So am I,” I said. “I want to know why a man I cared about froze to death in the snow and was run over like an animal.”
