Bones to Ashes

I felt a tickle of apprehension. “Did they leave contact information?”

Winston shook his head.

“Did they use my name specifically?”

Winston gave the question some thought. “Not sure. It’s been a zoo here today. They’re probably gawkers. We get a lot of those.”

“Release absolutely no information on my condo.”

Winston’s smile crumpled. His arms came up and crossed on his chest.

“I’m sorry. I know you’d never do that.”

Winston ran a finger and thumb along the corners of his mouth.

I smiled. “Thanks for telling me.”

“That sister of yours is a hoot.”

“Isn’t she.” I made the turn toward my hallway. “I better feed her or she’ll start gnawing the woodwork.”

Still wounded, Harry had declined participation in restaurant selection. I took her to one of my favorites. Milos is pricey, but this wasn’t the night for counting coins.

Conversation upon departure went something like this.

“Is the fish fresh?”

“Still swimming.”

Upon arrival.

“Where are we?”

“Saint-Laurent near Saint-Viateur.”

“Holy mackerel.”

We shared a Greek salad and an order of deep-fried zucchini. Harry had crab legs and I had snapper.

After much prompting, she agreed to discuss Bones to Ashes.

“When I called the Bathurst post office, I was directed to a Miss Schtumpheiss.” Harry pronounced the name with a hokey Colonel Klink accent. “Frau Schtumpheiss would neither confirm nor deny that Virginie LeBlanc had rented a postal box in her facility. I swear, Tempe, you’d think the woman was running a gulag.”

“Stalag. What did she say?”

“That the information was confidential. I think Frau Schtumpheiss just didn’t want to move her frauenhintern.”

I bit. “Frauenhintern?”

“Buttocks. Female.”

“How do you know that?”

“Conrad spoke German.”

Conrad was hubby number two. Or three.

“I could ask Hippo to give her a call,” I said. “He hails from that neck of the woods.”

“Might work.” Aloof, but not hostile. Harry’s mood was improving.

For the rest of the meal, I kept it light. When coffee arrived, I reached across the table and took my sister’s hand.

“Hippo gave me some very bad news today.”

Harry fixed me with two worried eyes.

I swallowed. “Obeline may be dead.”

The eyes clouded. “Ohmygod!” Whispered, “How? When?”

I relayed what I knew. Braced.

Harry picked up a spoon and stirred her coffee. Tapped the rim. Set the spoon on the table. Leaned back. Bit her lip thoughtfully.

No tears. No outburst.

“Are you OK?”

Harry didn’t respond.

“Apparently the current is very strong.”

Harry nodded.

My sister’s composure was unsettling. I started to speak. She flapped a hand for quiet.

I signaled for the check.

“There is something we can do,” she said. “In homage to Evangeline and Obeline.”