Finding Isadora (11 page)

His gaze skimmed and stopped, skimmed some more, then returned to mine.
“Cats,” he commented.

“
You’re not allergic?”

“
Nope.”

I pointed, identifying the three animals.
“I found Martin and Jack in a dumpster. Woodstock’s a stray someone dropped off at the clinic.”

“
Jack and Martin? Kennedy and Luther King Jr.?”

“
Uh-huh.”

“
Your names or your parents’?”

“
Grace named them. Jack’s the black one.”

He chuckled.
“Of course he is. Walk a mile in the other guy’s shoes.”

He was obviously on the same wavelength as my mother. For some reason that fact irked me.

“Gabriel, would you like some wine?” Grace called from the kitchen.

“
On an empty stomach?” That devastating smile flashed again, even though my mom couldn’t see it. “Hell, why not?”

“
I’ll get it,” I said. Glad for an excuse to move away from him, I went to the kitchen and reached over Grace’s head to find a clean wine glass.

She planted an elbow in my ribs.
“You never told me Richard’s father was a hottie.”

“
Grace! He’s…” I could hardly say Gabriel wasn’t a hottie. “He’s your lawyer. Have a little respect.” I thumbed the spout on the cardboard box and let wine slosh into the glass.

“
I’ve always respected a hottie, honey. Why’d you think I stuck with your daddy for so long?”

“
Jesus. I don’t want to hear this.” I stalked into the living area, where Gabriel was petting a purring Woodstock. I thrust the glass toward him. “Wine.”

He gave the cat a final pat and reached out to take the glass. Cocking an eyebrow, he said dryly,
“Thanks for your gracious hospitality.”

I gave a frustrated snort.

“And you’re mad at me because…?”

Because he hadn
’t looked happy to see me. Because he was a hottie. And because I was acting like a hormone-driven teen. Normally, I was a reasonably mature adult, but Gabriel—the man I was supposed to impress with my sterling daughter-in-law qualities—brought out the worst in me. “Because I’m temporarily insane,” I said grimly. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I’m really grateful you’ve taken Jimmy Lee’s case and I’m worried about him. And I’ve had far too much to drink. Ignore me.
Please
.”

He shot me a long, intense look that threatened to melt my bones, then
growled, “Do my best,” turned his back on me, and started stroking the cat again.

Woodstock arched and curved her body against Gabriel
’s hand and I tried not to envision what those long fingers would feel like, stroking my own neck. I’d probably purr as enthusiastically as the stupid cat. He had the hands of a masseur, a pianist, a surgeon—graceful, yet strong.

Grace came out of the kitchen and pu
t a bowl of stew and a plate of salad and cornbread on the dinette table. “Come sit down, Gabriel.”

He obeyed, and Grace sat in the chair across from him. I went over to lean against the counter that divided the kitchen from the dining area.

Gabriel tore off a piece of bread, swiped it into the stew, then popped it into his mouth. “Delicious.” He gave Grace an appreciative smile, then his face took on a serious expression. “Okay, obviously I talked to Jimmy Lee.”

Grace held up a hand in
a
stop
gesture. “Have dinner first. Relax. Then we’ll discuss it.”

I wanted to know everything about this crazy charge against Jimmy Lee, and I knew she did, too. But, after a couple of hours of wine and reminiscing, we
’d both convinced ourselves the charge was purely bogus and Gabriel would soon deal with it. The least we could do was let him eat in peace, then we’d deal with the details of getting my father out of jail.

“
Thanks.” Gabriel dug in.

Between bites, he chatted easily with Grace about this and that.

Toying with one of my dangly butterfly earrings, I watched him. He talked with animation and ate with gusto. He drank wine with gusto too, and I silently retrieved the wine box and refilled his glass. My feet and legs were tired from standing all day, so I sank into the chair between Gabriel and Grace.

The two of them seemed engrossed in comparing acquaintances, yet I noticed his eyes light on me. More specifically, on my bare shoulder. Quickly I straightened in my chair and shoved my drooping sweater back up to where it belonged. God, the man was already worried I might cheat on Richard, and now I was giving out all the wrong signals.

After he’d finished eating, he pushed his chair back from the table. “That was great.”

For some stupid reason, I wanted to tell him I
’d made the salad, but I managed to keep my mouth shut.

“
Let’s move into the living room,” Grace said. “It’s more comfortable.”

I sprang up, grabbing my half-full glass of wine and moving ahead of
Gabriel to reclaim my corner of the couch, and the one-eyed cat.

Gabriel took the other end of the couch, maintaining a good four-foot distance between us. Grace settled in the easy chair that wasn
’t occupied by Jack and Martin, and curled her legs under her. My mother was well-named; every movement had an intrinsic grace that was easy and ineffably female. Though she’d passed sixty a couple of years ago, she was still a beautiful, fit, sensual woman.

Woodstock rose and sauntered down to Gabriel
’s end of the couch, stretched, then sprawled across his lap. He stroked her and she began to purr. No wonder. Lucky cat.

“
Jimmy Lee says neither of you has ever been charged with arson before,” Gabriel said to Grace, and I forced my attention back to the conversation.

Was it my imagination or did she study him for a moment too long before she answered? Was she, too, distracted by his downright sexiness?
“Neither of us has ever been charged with arson,” she confirmed. “Mostly it’s contempt of court for violating injunctions. Obstruction, disturbing the peace, mischief, resisting arrest.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Minor league. No charges for anything as big as arson. Which Jimmy Lee didn’t commit, as I’m sure he told you.”

Gabriel picked up his wine glass from a side table and drained it in one long swallow. Some instinct made me rise and top up my mother
’s and my own glasses as well as his. I had a sense something bad was coming. He took another swallow and bit his bottom lip.

I leaned toward him.
“Gabriel, what’s going on?”

“
The Cosmystiques lab was badly burned. An accelerant was used and then chemicals in the lab exploded, making the situation worse.”

“
The animals…” I sighed, not sure whether a quick death by fire was worse or better than the fate they’d suffered at Cosmystiques’ hands.

Gabriel nodded in acknowledgment, then went on.
“Arson’s a serious offence. For arson causing damage to someone else’s property, the maximum sentence is fourteen years.”

“
Fourteen!” Grace paled, and I swallowed the bitter taste of fear.

“
Unfortunately,” he went on, “it’s worse than that. A woman was seriously injured in that fire. A lab tech, putting in some overtime. She’s in the hospital, in critical condition.”

I sucked in a breath as my mother said,
“Oh my goddess, the poor woman!”

Gabriel glanced at me, then fixed his gaze on Grace.
“Because the woman was there and was injured, Jimmy Lee’s been charged with arson with disregard to human life. The penalty is much more severe.”

“
What is it?” I demanded as cold prickles danced over my skin.

“
The maximum is life, but that’s very unlikely. Unless the woman dies. In that case the Crown would probably go for the max.”

Grace gasped.

I leapt up and rushed over to grasp her hands, for my own reassurance as much as hers. “It won’t happen. He’s innocent, Grace. Gabriel will get him off.”

“
I will,” he said firmly.

I sank down on the floor at my mother
’s feet. Woodstock, oblivious to the tension in the room, continued to purr, her contented rumble the only sound in the room for the next few minutes.

Then Grace shook herself.
“I’m so sorry for that woman, and her family. But Gabriel, Jimmy Lee really didn’t do it. He was nowhere near Cosmystiques last night. He was here with me, all night long.”

Gabriel nodded.
“So he said. But a common law spouse and fellow activist isn’t the most credible alibi. And the cops have evidence. They found his cigarette lighter in the parking lot.”

I shook my head quickly.
“Jimmy Lee doesn’t own a lighter. He doesn’t smoke.”

“
They found a lighter with his initials on it.”

“
It’s not his,” I protested. “Anyone who knows him can tell you he wouldn’t touch tobacco.”

“
There are other things than cigarettes, hon,” Grace reminded me.

I groaned. Of course I knew my parents used marijuana, but did she have to share that information with my dad
’s lawyer? I rose and went back to my corner of the couch.

“
Yeah, I know Jimmy Lee smokes pot,” Gabriel said. “Relax, Isadora, it’s not that big a deal in Vancouver. But Jimmy Lee says the same as the two of you, that he never uses a lighter. Could be someone else with the same initials dropped it, but my guess is it was planted. He’s being framed.”

“
Framed!” Grace and I exclaimed at the same time.

“
He’s an easy target. Loud-mouth picketer who has a bad track record with the cops. If picketing didn’t make Cosmystiques stop using animals, why wouldn’t he burn them down?”

“
He wouldn’t,” Grace said firmly. “And he didn’t.”

“
Yeah, I know. But you can see why the cops would be willing to believe it. They’d like to get him on something big, for once.” He leaned forward and gazed intently at her. “Who hates Jimmy Lee enough to frame him?”

“
No-one,” she said adamantly.

He turned to me.
“Isadora?”

I shook my head, baffled.

He sighed. “He didn’t have any ideas either. Think about it and let me know if you come up with any names.”

“
How strong is the Crown’s case?” I asked.

“
We won’t know until the scientific evidence is analyzed. Maybe there’s an argument to be made that it’s not arson at all. As for the lighter, I can say Jimmy Lee could have dropped it when he was out there picketing.”

Grace was shaking her head, but he went on.
“I know it’s not his. But how do we prove he never used one? Call witnesses—friends—to say he always used matches? To say they saw him toking up, and they’d been doing it too? Yeah, the law isn’t really enforced, but I’m not sure we want to ask witnesses to flaunt marijuana use in court. Cops might view it as a dare and arrest them. That’s a lot to ask of a friend.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his long hair, pulling it back from his face. “Anyhow, that’s a ways down the road.”

I wanted to ask how long he envisioned this road stretching, but I was afraid to hear the answer.

“The first thing is to get him out of jail,” Grace said firmly, determination giving her cheeks color again.

“
I’ll do my best. Onus is on the Crown to show cause why he shouldn’t be released. They may argue he’s a flight risk. I’ll point out he’s never skipped before. Not in Canada, anyhow.”

As he spoke, I watch
ed my mother, and saw her eyes widen in anxiety. Then, as Gabriel said, “The only time he ran was when he left the States dodging the draft, and I don’t think that’ll count against him,” she relaxed again.

“
The Crown may also say he’s a danger to the community,” Gabriel went on.

“
That’s absurd,” she said indignantly. “He’s protecting the community.”

I groaned.
“Yeah, but his idea of protection isn’t the same as the justice system’s.”

“
The system operates as effectively as a water bucket full of holes,” Grace retorted.

“
Save the philosophical arguments,” Gabriel said dryly. “Tomorrow I’m confined to legal ones. But I’ll certainly mention that he’s never harmed another human being.” He frowned. “Well, not seriously harmed. It doesn’t help that he’s scuffled with more than one cop.”

“
They had it coming,” my mother protested.

H
e grinned at her. “I believe you, woman. Now let’s hope the Provincial Court judge does.”

She grinned back, and tossed her braid.
“If anyone can persuade her or him, it’s you, Gabriel.”