Cornwall and Redfern Mysteries 2-Book Bundle (12 page)

“When did I say that? I'll still smoke once in a while on social occasions. What do you think people do when they have a party?”

“Uh, eat, drink, talk?”

“You are quite the little innocent, aren't you? What did you do at university when everyone else was stoned?” Dougal was shoving items from the fridge and cupboard into a plastic bag and glancing at his watch every few seconds.

“Worked in my spare time to help the Weasel through law school,” I replied, thinking I could remember every party we attended at university, there were so few of them.

“Well, that worked out well, didn't it? You would have been better off having a little more fun.” He shoved the bag and a bottle of water into my hands. “Here, drink this. You're looking a little dry around the edges. Got your underwear? Good. See you bright and early in the morning. Don't be late again.”

I sniffed my armpit.

“What are you doing that for?” Dougal backed away quickly.

“I can't remember when I had a shower last. I have to use your bathroom before I go.”

“Oh, no you don't. You'll just have to smell yourself until tomorrow. Company's coming, and I have a few preparations to make.”

“Like lighting some candles and uncorking the wine? Or maybe rolling a few?”

“None of your business.” He shut the door on me, an affront I was growing used to.

I did consider, once again, hanging around to catch Melanie in the act, at least see what she looked like. But something Dougal had said about the parties at university triggered the ghost of a memory. It was a long shot after so many years, but suddenly I was in a hurry to get back to the trailer, my fear of Hemp Hollow's threatening shadows forgotten for the moment.

Maybe, just maybe, I had a spare ace up my blackmailing sleeve.

I noticed the stench first. My preoccupation nearly caused me to miss the low growling, but even had I been in a coma my nose would have detected the fetid reek emanating from the forest behind me.

Hugging my bag of food close to my chest, I turned my neck and saw the unblinking green eyes cutting through the black night. A snarl preceded another wave of wild animal scent. Bear!

My feet flew between the trailers and around to my stoop. I was certain I heard the bear crashing through the underbrush, snapping at my heels. This time the key found its mark at first try. Lucky, since I wouldn't have had a second chance. As soon as I slammed the door shut and shot the bolt, a heavy thud sounded against the trailer wall, followed by a menacing growl. Starving bears were known to move down the Bruce Peninsula this far south in search of food, and I had heard stories of bears actually tearing doors right off their hinges.

The skin on my neck tightened as I waited for another assault on my aluminum door. I should have my bat, I thought, but the logical part of my mind knew a bat was no protection against a bear. I ran to my bedroom to get it anyway, stealing a peek out the tiny window. Nothing.

The bat under my arm, I pulled out my cell to call 911. I punched the 9 and the first 1, and stopped. The police would come around in response to my call. They would look for a bear, which they may or may not find. But the police might notice something suspicious around the Quigley trailer. When Ewan and Snake were released on bail, they would be really angry.

Bear or Ewan and Snake? The choice could kill me. I closed my BlackBerry and sat on the floor in the dark, my ear pressed against the door. It may have been hours, it may have been ten minutes, but I heard no further rumbling, and nothing clawed at the door from the other side.

I was still holding my plastic bag. Knowing bears could smell food from miles away, I got up and stowed the bag in the fridge. I called Rae's number, but there was no answer. I left a message warning her about the bear.

I really, really hated nature. I could hardly wait to move back to town where sidewalks and pruned bushes discouraged wild animals, and the worst thing you could meet in the dark was a Doberman on a leash or your neighbour mooning you in the backyard. I'd take a bare ass over a wild bear any day.

Even though I had to pee, I didn't dare go outside and climb the hill to the recreation building. A full bladder and terror are not conducive to restful sleep, but exhaustion finally claimed me and Morpheus held me in a steely grip until a pain in my abdomen woke me at first light.

The pain was my bladder about to let go. Frantically, I tried to think of something to use as a receptacle. Pulling open the only cupboard in the trailer, I surveyed the possibilities. One small pot and one plastic bowl. Not enough, even combined.

Unlocking the door, I stuck my head out and sniffed. Cooking odours drifted from the Quigley trailer. Vanilla and some other unfamiliar seasoning. No musty bear odour.

Bat in hand, I scurried around back and sought out a suitable spot. Not that I had time to be fussy, but I needed privacy. Finding a clump of low-growing wild junipers, I climbed into the middle and hunkered down to business.

Junipers have short, scratchy needles, and the dried leaves I was forced to use in lieu of two-ply were going to leave serious scars. Just as I pulled up my undies, which were beginning to resemble a shredded thong, I heard crackling nearby. Something was shuffling through the deep blanket of pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. And it was coming my way.

I squatted down again and my fingers found the bat. Dragging it behind, I crawled deeper into the junipers. I couldn't smell the bear, but if it was out there it would be able to smell me. It was too late to run.

The shuffling became louder and closer and, just as I imagined the pain of thick, sharp claws closing on the skin of my neck, someone spoke.

The voice was no farther than five or six feet from my juniper cave. I scrunched up in a ball and tried not to whimper.

“You shouldn't be here, man. It's too close to ground zero. We could meet somewhere tonight.” The voice was low and gravelly.

Oh boy. Snake. I could only pray that my red tee-shirt didn't show through the branches of the junipers. I pulled the back of the shirt down over my rump.

“I parked on the concession road and walked in. I know it's dangerous, but you need to know what's happening in town.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth to thwart the cry of surprise that almost leapt from my throat. It couldn't be …

“I'll walk back to the road with you. It's almost sunrise and Miss Bliss, for one, is up pretty early.” Snake sniggered.

Chief Redfern laughed right along with his friend. “We'll be lucky if she doesn't screw up the whole deal. She hasn't mentioned you, which makes me suspicious. Any other woman would run screaming to the cops about the big, bad biker in the woods, but not her. I think …”

The words faded out and I lay shaking on the damp ground under my green canopy. Redfern was crooked. Who would better know the intricacies of the drug trade than a former drug cop from Toronto? Maybe the years of watching endless amounts of illegal money flow around him, combined with the unexpected death of his wife, made him cynical, and he had turned into one of the bad guys. Thank God I hadn't confided in him about my fear of Ewan and Snake.

I remembered the bear and shot up out of the junipers. Ignoring my bare feet, I ran back to my trailer where I pulled on my overalls and started stuffing a change of clothes and some toiletries into a plastic bag. I locked the trailer behind me and fled to the clearing where my Savage waited. Barely taking the time to buckle on my helmet, I pushed the bag and my leather jacket into the saddlebag and sped away from Hemp Hollow.

Pan took a step back when he opened the door. He didn't exactly hold his nose, but he didn't take any deep breaths either. It wasn't my fault I smelled bad. After the Night of the Bear and the Dawn of the Crooked Cop, I was lucky I wasn't followed to Glory's by a pack of dogs.

“It's pretty early, Bliss.”

“I know what time it is, Pan. There's a bear living behind my place, and I wanted to get away while it was still sleeping.”

“A bear?” Pan didn't look convinced. “I don't think so. I haven't heard any reports of bears being spotted anywhere near town.”

“I know what I saw. And smelled. Anyway, here I am, ready to clean. So, out of my way.”

I wasn't going to mention the conversation I heard between Snake and Redfern. In this case, a burden shared was not necessarily a burden lightened. I was beginning to think there was an organized drug ring operating in Lockport and, for all I knew, Pan was part of it. He had visited the Quigley trailer on at least one occasion.

Edging Pan aside, I surveyed Glory's palatial foyer. There was a faint shadow in one corner. The shadow was slowly fluttering, set in motion by the current of air from the closing door. A cobweb.

Glory was known to foam at the mouth when confronted by a cobweb, invariably followed up by her trademark high-pitched shrieking. But, before dealing with cobwebs, I had to clean myself up.

“Is she sleeping?”

Still standing upwind, Pan nodded. “Lady Gloryness won't be up for another hour or two.”

“Good. Is there coffee on?”

In the kitchen, I drank a mug of water, then poured coffee into the same mug from the European carafe on the counter. Carrying the coffee, I nabbed my canvas bag from the foyer floor and headed up the curved staircase.

“Wait,” Pan called anxiously behind me. “She's still sleeping, and believe me, you don't want to wake her up.”

“I won't. I'm going to start on the guest bathrooms, well away from the Queen's hive.”

I chose the bathroom farthest from Glory's master suite and stripped down. Stepping into a shower spacious enough to hold the entire Lockport High football team, I used the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash from the supply on the built-in shelving. My road rash was pretty well scabbed over, but the hot water stung some fresh scratches from the junipers, including a few where the sun never shines.

After dressing, I finished my coffee and tied my wet hair back in a ponytail. Then I got out the cleaning supplies. Pulling rubber gloves over my moisturized hands, I set to work on the bathroom, moving on to the other three in record time.

Until Glory was awake, I couldn't clean her bathroom or use the vacuum cleaner upstairs. I dropped my carryall near the door and surveyed the cobweb. The aroma of eggs and bacon hit me like an invisible force, and my stomach contracted painfully.

Pan stood behind me, chewing rapidly and cradling a napkin-wrapped breakfast burrito in one fist. He sniffed.

“Did you take a shower up there?”

“Better you don't know. Then Glory can't extract the information under torture.”

The smell of the burrito was torment. But, eating on the job was pushing it, so I didn't ask for a bite. Pan offered me the object he was holding in his other hand.

“Here. I thought you might want to get that cobweb right away.”

I accepted the duster, duct-taped to an old mop handle. Glory didn't waste money on tools for the help. “Thanks.” I took one last sniff of Pan's burrito and turned to the waiting cobweb.

“Wait a minute.” I stepped closer to the corner and looked up. “There's a spider in there. It's huge.” I backed quickly away and handed Pan the duster. “Get it.”

He handed it back. “You get it.”

“One of you twits better get it.” Glory came up behind us, having silently descended the staircase on bare feet. She was wearing an emerald satin robe over matching pyjamas and looked better with tangled hair and half-awake eyes than I did after my forbidden sojourn in her guest shower.

“That would be you, Bliss,” she said, in case I had forgotten my place. She looked me up and down but didn't comment on my wet hair or squeaky-clean complexion. I probably even smelled expensive, thanks to her complimentary skin care products. “By the time you leave, there better not be any spiderwebs in this house.”

She turned sleepy eyes on Pan, whose cheeks were bulging with the last of his breakfast. “Is my coffee ready, Pan?”

“Right away, Miss.”

Pan sprinted to the kitchen. He better have his mistress's coffee poured and delivered to the breakfast room by the time she got there. Until her eyes were fully open, Glory wasn't able to drill holes in your brain with them, so I turned into a cleaning machine to get as much done as possible before she swallowed the last of her second cup of caffeine.

Even with the pole attached, the duster didn't reach the ceiling. I leaped at the corner, lunging and thrusting, until the web was dispatched. I lost the spider, but didn't pursue him. Four hours later, I was done.

Glory's castle was web-free and gleaming. Even the magazines in the sitting room were stacked with meticulous care. I managed not to run into Glory again, but found my pay on the antique buffet in the foyer.

Pan accompanied me to the greenhouse to snap pictures of Sif. The pot plants drooped under the weight of their buds and, in an opposite corner, the Berg bamboo stood stiff and lonely. Something about that bamboo almost triggered a thought, but it slipped away and I didn't have time to think about it.

On the curb beside my Savage, I took out my phone and checked it. And sighed. Dougal had left four messages. He started yelling the second he picked up.

“Bliss! Where are you now? You didn't report in this morning, and it's critical you stay in touch. I haven't heard from you since yesterday.”

“I just took some pictures but can't get them over to you until I'm through at Fern Brickle's. Sorry, but I can't spare the time. I'm due there now.”

“Bliss, get your ass—”

I hung up on him and swung my leg over the seat.
It took me less than a minute to reach Fern Brickle's bungalow. She greeted me at the door dressed in Capri-length leggings and a long v-necked tee-shirt in turquoise. Silver hair flowed to her shoulders, the layers cut with precision and style. As always, she wore lipstick and eyeshadow in glossy pastels. If you didn't know she was seventy-eight, you would take her for sixty, tops.

“Bliss, my dear. Come in. You're looking very nice today. How are you?”

“I'm fine, Mrs. Brickle. You look great, as usual.”

The joints in Fern's hands were swollen and misshapen. Rheumatoid arthritis had taken its toll, and I often wondered how Fern was able to comb her hair or put her makeup on, let alone dress or make a meal. But she managed, and never complained. Her only concession to the disease was someone to clean her house for her.

“Where do you want me to start, Mrs. Brickle?”

“About that, Bliss. We'll have to do things a little differently today, if you don't mind. You may not know, but I usually have my friends over for a dessert party every Thursday afternoon. Well, for reasons that won't matter to you, I am hosting it this afternoon instead. Everyone will be here at one o'clock, so if you would just clean the guest bathroom and run the vacuum cleaner over the living room rug, I'll pay you as usual, and you can do a more thorough job next week.”

I whizzed through the bathroom, wanting to ask Fern if she needed help dressing, but knowing the offer would not be accepted. The bathroom done, I went to the kitchen pantry where the vacuum cleaner was stored. With my hand on the doorknob, I paused, my head turning to stare at the counter.

A glass plate was heaped high with chocolate squares, so rich and gooey that the pile almost looked like a pyramid-shaped cake. The icing ran off the tops of the squares and drizzled down the sides. My stomach gave an angry growl. It would no longer be denied.

I looked around and listened. The only sound came from the ticking grandfather clock in the dining room.

I considered the plate of chocolate squares. I didn't see how it could be done. If I took the top one, its absence would be immediately apparent. And if I took one out of the middle section, or the bottom layer, the whole structure might collapse.

I licked my bottom lip and reached out. Before I could stop myself, a delicious morsel was in my mouth, plucked from the bottom. My eyes closed in wanton ecstasy.

I hadn't had sex in so long, I didn't even miss it anymore. Not until that moment, the moment when the piece of chocolate heaven entered my mouth and melted on my tongue. Then, I remembered what it had been like when Mike and I were still in love and could hardly wait for class to be over and we were alone, our hands ripping away clothes and our …

But, given a choice between that moment and this one, I'd have to say, give me another hunk of chocolate square.

Another piece followed the first, just as wonderful. But the pyramid was listing a little to one side, so I turned the plate around and carefully extracted a square from the opposite side. I popped that one into my mouth and chewed more slowly. What was that, three?

The pile was still a little lopsided. I was unsure how to straighten it out. Fern would notice if I kept eating her dessert. But, maybe just one more piece from this side and everything would be even again.

Just as that square was about to follow the first three, I heard Fern's voice.

“Bliss? How are you coming along, dear?”

There was a box of plastic wrap sitting beside the pile of treats. Not wanting to be caught with my mouth full, I quickly tore off a strip of the wrap and wound it around the square. My overalls had a handy chest pocket, and, in no time at all, the little parcel was out of sight. By the time Fern reached the living room, I was plugging in the vacuum cleaner. I was a little worried about the leaning tower of chocolate squares in the kitchen, but I didn't think Fern would begrudge me a wee snack if she knew.

And the chocolate was just what I needed. As I finished up the vacuuming, I was feeling great, stronger than I had in days. Sure, it was just a sugar high, but it would keep me going until I could get some lunch at Dougal's when I dropped off the pictures. He would be really glad to see me, so much earlier than he expected. And I was looking forward to seeing Thor. I really missed that plant.

Fern was wearing to-die-for jeans and a beaded tunic top. When she paid me, I gave her a hug. She looked a little surprised, but, what the hey, there's not enough love in the world, that's what I always say.

At the curb, it took me a while to get my leather jacket on. I couldn't get the little thingie in the zipper to stay inside the little hole while I pulled on it. And people kept stopping in Fern's driveway or on the street in front of, and in back of, my motorcycle. I had to wave at them all. There were the MacPhersons, their dandelion hair drifting gently around their heads. Once Bob was settled in his wheelchair, they gave a friendly wave back.

Then a man I didn't know got out of his cute little Yaris. He didn't wave back, which I thought was rude until I realized he couldn't take his hands off the two canes that were holding him up. I gave him an extra wave.

Four or five other people went into Fern's house. I waved at all of them and most of them waved back. I finally got the zipper up and picked up my helmet. I couldn't figure out which side was the front. I decided the peaky thing should be at the back to catch the wind and was trying to force it over my ears when a pair of hands pulled the helmet off my head.

I turned around to give the person what for.

Bummer.