Deadly Fall (19 page)

Paula wondered if she was still doing this only for Callie. She would ponder that later. “Okay.”

“What is your connection to Callie and Sam?”

“What is it you have to say?”

Bev mashed out her cigarette. “If I were you, I'd be interested to know why Kenneth hasn't told them.”

“Kenneth Unsworth? Callie's ex-husband?”

“He has a dog,” Bev said. “A golden retriever he walks every day along the same route through this neighborhood. You could set your watch by it. Being naturally curious about the murder, I decided to run into him yesterday, and took Chu-Hua and Tao.” The latter looked up at the mention of his name, his tongue out of his mouth. He panted as though in agreement. “We met up with Kenneth. I gave him my Callie condolences. He spewed appropriate replies and looked miserable, like a basset hound. I had this urge to cheer him up and tried to think of something nice to say.”

Nice and Bev didn't mesh.

“I thought, if my husband ever ditched me, I'd want his romance to tank. So, I told Kenneth I knew with certainty there was nothing between Callie and Sam. Kenneth asked how I could be so sure. I told him about my affair. He looked surprised.”

“I'm surprised you'd reveal it.”

“I don't know what came over me. I thought if anyone could be discreet it would be Kenneth. He never tells you anything you don't need to know.”

Fred limped to the sofa. Bev lifted him onto her lap. She stroked Fred with her right hand, Xiang with her left.

“We babbled good-byes,” Bev continued. “I said I was glad I had my dogs to walk with for protection. Kenneth stared at little Chu-Hua and said no dog could protect her from him. I assumed he meant Sam and rushed to his defense, saying Sam wasn't the type to murder for money and he certainly didn't kill Callie for love, since their marriage was dead. Kenneth said husbands who cheated always claimed that. That's when I lost it. Sam lied to me? I ranted at Kenneth. He backed off.”

Paula patted Chu-Hua's head, stifling a smile. Bev didn't sound like she had totally moved on from Sam. Chu-Hua growled at Tao, on the floor.

Bev stroked Fred, who dozed on her legs. “Afterwards, I wondered if Kenneth was talking about someone other than Sam, somebody else who had feelings for her. I think he just said ‘him,' not specifically ‘Sam.'” Bev swung her legs from the footrest, startling Fred and knocking him to the carpet. Xiang bared his teeth. He leapt on top of Fred. Chu-Hua and Tao joined the scuffle. The dogs barked and growled and nipped each other.

“See what I mean?” Bev said. “Killing is instinct.”

They slid to the ends of the park bench. Hayden set out the picnic between them. Paula dropped her sandals to the dirt and swung her legs, inhaling the sweet fall air. They were surrounded by poplars specked with yellow and green leaves. Paula's dark glasses couldn't block the glare of the sun shining across the Elbow River. Hayden had suggested they meet for lunch to make up for his being unavailable tonight. His evening commitment freed her to phone Kenneth Unsworth and invite herself over for a condolence visit. Kenneth said he would be home and might have something to give to her.

“I wonder what it is,” she said to Hayden. “He wouldn't explain over the phone.”

“Callie could have left you something in her will.” Hayden held out two submarine sandwiches. “Chicken or tuna?”

Paula took the fish. “Sam told Isabelle he's not starting work on her estate until next week. He's the executor.”

Hayden scowled at Paula's reference to Sam. She let it go, being in too good spirits. Partly it was the weather and partly a sense of zeroing in on what she wanted to know about Sam. The uncertainty was driving her nuts. Hayden removed his suit jacket, but left his tie on and his collar buttoned. Given the heat, she was grateful for her loose cotton blouse that fluttered like the feathers of the Canada geese parading past their bench to the rocky shore.

She unwrapped the sandwich's wax paper. “Why the delay with the will, do you think?”

“I expect Sam's too busy squiring Callie's girlfriends to hockey games.” Hayden took a huge bite of submarine.

Paula couldn't resist his dry humor. So far, Sam had made her laugh by the things he did, like his involvement with Amazon Bev. Should she tell Hayden about her? Would he be amused or annoyed by anything related to Sam? She hadn't mentioned Bev when they talked last night for fear he would accuse her of heading off on a wild goose chase. She giggled at the geese lined up on the shore.

“What's so funny?” he said.

She chewed potato salad, avoiding an answer. The geese honked at their comrades perched on stones, splashing in the river, dipping their beaks into the water. Fewer complexities in her life would be nice. Since leaving Bev's house, all she had thought of was Kenneth's remark “no dog could save her from him.”

“I wonder if Kenneth knows about Dimitri's crush,” she said. “If he does, you'd think he'd have told the cops about it for no other reason than to hurt Sam.”

“Some of us are above petty revenge.” With apparent nonchalance, he dipped his fork into the coleslaw.

Would he take the high road with Sam, if given the opportunity to hurt him? “Since the cops suspect Felix Schoen, it makes me wonder if Kenneth told them something about Felix. Maybe he is the ‘him' Kenneth was talking about.”

“Are you suggesting Callie had an affair with him? Potato salad?”

She finished off the container. “I wouldn't think Felix was her type. He's heavy, drinks too much, and is a major slob, although she might go for his artistic side. He's a writer.”

Hayden chewed his salad.

“If Callie had an affair,” she said, “it would equalize matters between her and Sam. This morning, I learned he had an affair during their marriage.”

“There's a shocker.”

His dry humor could be irritating. She could wipe off his smug expression by telling him about Sam's estrangement from Callie, another thing she had neglected to mention last night. Why make him feel even more threatened by Sam? The point of this lunch was to smooth things out; gloss over. Sweep everything under a pile of leaves.

“Was Sam's affair in addition to whatever he's got going with Isabelle?” Hayden said.

“I told you, they aren't involved.”

“You believe her about that?”

“I can judge people.”

“Hmpph.”

Paula resented his insinuation that she lacked judgment about Sam. So far, she had that involvement under control. More or less.

The Elbow River current carried a pair of geese sideways down river. On the opposite bank, another goose waddled up to explore a lawn that was far trimmer than Sam's backyard. A week ago this morning, Callie had left her home upstream to jog the winding path that followed this river. Had anyone seen her from those houses lining the bank?

Hayden popped open a can of diet Coke. “If I work tomorrow night, I can clear the weekend for us. Are you free Saturday—I'd love a good game of tennis—or do you need to catch up on work?”

On Saturday, Sam was hiking in Kananaskis. Anne had invited her and Hayden to dinner. Shit. She had forgotten about that. If she brought it up—he was bound to say yes—she would be stuck and she wanted to keep her options open until she talked to Kenneth.

“I'm not sure,” she said.

“This Indian summer is supposed to hold. It would be great for tennis.”

Saturday's weather would be perfect for a fall hike with Felix and Sam, who had been foolish to withhold Dimitri's crush from the cops. Its coming out now would make his son's situation ten times worse. Why hadn't he seen that? Dimitri was on public record for being hot-tempered, and Isabelle would report Callie's accusation that he had stalked her at the Calgary Folk Festival. What had Callie meant by stalking? Isabelle didn't know. It could have been anything from running into her by fake accident to following her around the park, harassing, threatening. Had there been other incidents? Was Sam aware of them? He must be, to risk trusting Isabelle to conceal her information.

“I'll be glad when this business about murder is over,” Hayden said. “I'm tired of talking about Sam and his bunch.”

“We were talking about tennis.”

“Thinking about him counts.”

She flushed, which was stupid. She tossed her sandwich remains to the geese.

Hayden sniffed. “I smell cigarette smoke.”

“I slipped and bummed one from a friend this morning.”

His eyebrow shot up, “How come?”

“Stress. I'll be glad, too, when this is done and I can focus on work.”

Nils van der
Vliet sucked his pipe behind the stack of claim files. Twenty-plus were piled on his desk, in contrast to the usual three or four. In the visitors' chair, Paula inhaled the room's sweet tobacco aroma that reminded her of her long deceased grandfather.

“I don't blame you for taking a few days off,” Nils said, “but this is one hell of a time for it to happen when we're short staffed.”

“I was in yesterday.”

“For all of an hour.”

“I was running around all day meeting claimants, and whose fault, anyway, is the short staffing?”

“I'm not hiring someone with the wrong chemistry for this firm.”

Nils' telephone rang. While he talked, Paula swiveled her chair. During the past two months he had vetoed five suitable candidates for the junior adjuster's job. The workload might teach him to be less particular next time. Outside his smudgy window, vehicles streamed by the freight cars parked in the 9th Avenue railway yard. Beyond them, blue sky framed the Saddledome's curved roof. A homeless man shuffled along the sidewalk, his arms weighted by shopping bags. His yellow vest looked familiar. She had probably seen him in her neighborhood, a twenty-minute walk away.

Nils chatted with his business friend about football, while Paula sat here wasting her time. Unlike her, he didn't have Alice, their secretary, screen calls. With no interruptions, and prioritizing claims, Nils could cut that stack in half. Yesterday, they had agreed on the ones that didn't require immediate attention. One was the Jensen file sitting on top of the pile. He was going to spend hours on that and let slide ones that claimants, lawyers, and insurance agents had been calling about. His third flaw—or was she up to four?—smoking in the office, bothered her less than it amused her. She chuckled at Alice's battles to keep his door closed and visitors' futile attempts to explain that people did not smoke in today's offices.

Nils hung up the phone and pulled out a file from the stack as deftly as a magician. “I sense we're close to settling with your friend, Roy Turner.”

“One of our rare, honest claimants.”

“Which is fortunate or our job would be boring.”

“As if it's not boring enough.”

“What's the matter with you today?” Nils took another call.

Paula rubbed her head. Maybe she was simply tired or annoyed by the police report that had come in this morning. Someone had reported a hit-and-run in the neighborhood of her alleged hit-and-run claimant's accident. The damage matched up with her claimant's damages, which meant her guy was possibly lying. He was the hit-and-run perpetrator, not the victim. Had he been drinking? It wouldn't surprise her. Normally, she loved nailing liars and cheats. Today, it was all extra work. Her gaze shifted from Nils' files to his off-white office walls that hadn't been painted since the 1970s, when he purchased the metal desks. The room's only art was a sketch so small you couldn't see it from more than a foot away. The venetian blind permanently drooped. Paula had taken the job with his little firm, in part, because it seemed a flashback in time. Nils refused to deal with computers. Alice printed everything out for his thickening files. Nils viewed the firm as David fighting Goliath insurance adjusting chains and multinational staff adjusters. All they needed was a niche, he said over and over.

Nils kept talking to his lawyer-friend. Paula walked to the room's far side. She never came in here without her cell phone and a paper report to occupy her during Nils' calls. She phoned Anne to ask about her husband's heart palpitations. As they left the boutique yesterday, Anne said he was going in for tests, a routine occurrence for him that still stressed Anne.

“They're keeping him in.” Anne's voice shook. “I'm going to have to cancel our dinner on Saturday night. I hope Hayden understands. I'm really sorry. We'll make it another time.”

Paula felt relief and guilt because she hadn't mentioned the dinner to Hayden and Anne seemed to think it was a done deal. Events were pointing to the hike with Sam.

Anne suggested they take advantage of the fine weather and replace tomorrow's workout with a walk to the hospital. Paula said she would come by the fitness center at one o'clock. By then, Anne would probably have found out about her son's interest in Callie and its implications for the murder case. Poor Anne having to deal with that on top of her husband's problems. A weaker person would crack. Paula herself felt close to cracking these days, while dealing with less.

Nils hung up and placed another call. She stared at his sketch of the Lloyd's of London coffee house circa 1688, where modern insurance began. Nils' office door opened. Alice tiptoed across the room to Paula and whispered that she had a visitor.

“Who? I'm not expecting anyone.” A claimant angry enough to come to her office was the last thing she needed.

“Shall I tell him to wait?” Alice asked.

Nils looked entrenched in his discussion about whiplash. Paula signaled him she was leaving. He nodded and motioned them to leave the door open. Paula closed it behind her.

Alice scanned the reception room. “That's funny. He was here a minute ago. In fact, he stopped in this morning and made a special trip to return. Your door's open.”