Finding Isadora (15 page)

“
As Gabriel said, Cassie McKenzie was unconscious, but her friend, Shawna, was there. Shawna lives in the same building and she was babysitting Alyssa when Cassie went to the lab to do some overtime. Cassie’s a single parent and she wanted to earn extra money because Alyssa’s birthday—her seventh—is coming up. Anyhow, Shawna can’t keep Alyssa.”

I had a horrible feeling
that I knew where this rambling story was heading. “The father’s not around?”

“
No, not since before Alyssa was born. And there are no other relatives in town. Cassie’s parents are up in Kelowna and she’s estranged from them. Besides, Alyssa shouldn’t be so far away from her mother.”

I closed my eyes and gripped the phone more tightly.
“Are you saying you and Jimmy Lee have taken Alyssa?”

“
Of course.”

Of course. I raised my free hand and massaged my temples, which had begun to throb. My parents had taken in the daughter of the woman Jimmy Lee was accused of having put in the hospital. I could just imagine how Cassie McKenzie would feel when she regained consciousness.

Was there any hope my parents had at least gone through proper channels? Not likely. I knew what Jimmy Lee thought of the Ministry of Children and Family Development. “Who authorized it?”

“
Shawna.” There was a pause and then Grace said, “Well, if we’d gone through the Ministry it never would have happened, would it? The girl would be sent to a foster home. That’s no good. She’s just a child, worried about her mother.”

I sympathized, but didn
’t they realize that right now, Jimmy Lee’s interests had to come first? Sternly, I asked, “Have you talked to Gabriel about it?” I knew darned well they hadn’t or he’d have straightened them out.

“
What’s it got to do with him?”

My mom was blustering. Grace knew the answer perfectly well, but still I had to say it.
“If Cassie McKenzie recovers, she could probably have you charged with abduction. You shouldn’t have done this without at least talking to Gabriel.”

Grace was silent for a few seconds, then she said,
“Do you have an animal or not?”

I sighed in exasperation.
“What on earth for?”

“
The child is distressed. She loves animals and we thought it would help if she had one of her own to look after and care about.”

“
I’m sure it would. But have you thought about afterward? What happens when her mother’s well enough to take her back? Maybe their apartment doesn’t take pets, maybe she’s allergic, maybe she wouldn’t want Cassie to have an animal. She’s the girl’s mother; it should be her decision.” Why did I always have to be the grownup in the family?

“
I suppose you’re right.” My mother sounded so dejected that my heart softened.

“
Look, it’s a sweet idea, but I don’t think it’s practical. How about putting Alyssa in charge of Woodstock and the boys? It’ll distract her, and hopefully she’ll understand that they’re your cats and won’t be going home with her.”

“
I suppose.”

“
If she’s really keen on animals, maybe she’d like to visit the clinic on the weekend.”

My mother
’s voice brightened. “That sounds great. Maybe Sunday?”

“
Yes, that should work.”

“
Thanks, hon. We’ll talk later in the week and arrange a time. Bye for now.”

“
Grace? You need to tell Gabriel about this.”

“
Oh? You think he’d like a tour of the clinic, too?” There was a spark of mischief in her voice.

I gave an exaggerated groan and hung up on her. At least when I had kids I
’d be wise to all the tricks they might come up with. No child could possibly be as devilish as my parents. The only problem was that, while I knew the tricks, I hadn’t found ways of dealing with them.

Should I phone Gabriel and tell him what his clients were up to? It was clear Grace had no intention of doing so. Did I want to talk to the man again?

I listened to my heart and got a resounding
yes/no
, which was enough to tell me not to call.

* * *

I was meeting Janice for lunch. Her school was a few blocks from the Pet-Vet Clinic, and we often met at one of the informal, deli-style restaurants nearby. She’d texted yesterday when she read the news of Jimmy Lee’s arrest, and I’d said I would fill her in over lunch today.

Arriving first, I claimed a window table and, to avoid thinking of my father
’s plight or of Gabriel, pulled a magazine out of my backpack. Every month, I popped into the neighborhood branch library and picked up family and home decorating magazines, which I browsed in spare moments. Today’s was
Better Homes and Gardens
, a magazine I’d bet my mother had never picked up in her entire life.

I leafed through, then stopped, my attention arrested by a photo of a large, sunny kitchen. Yes, I could imagine myself cooking breakfast there, a couple of animals underfoot, Gabriel calling— What? Gabriel? What was he doing in this picture? No, it was Richard, of course it was Richard, calling from his den to ask if I
’d seen his briefcase. Then our two kids would pound down the stairs from their bedrooms, run into that beautiful kitchen…

That huge kitchen, bigger than my whole apartment. Decadent. Conspicuous consumption. Across town, people were starving.

I tugged on one of my pussy-cat earrings and let out a sigh.

Janice plopped down in the chair across from me.
“Hey, Izzie, how’s it going?”

I rotated the magazine to face her and stabbed the photograph with a finger.
“Tell me it’s not wrong to want a kitchen like this.”

Janice glanced at the magazine and then at my face. Her nose crinkled and her eyes squinted up as she began to smile.
“Boy, your parents have really done a number on you. Of course it’s not wrong to want a nice home. We’re women; that’s normal for us.”

“
It’s not just my parents,” I confessed. “The after-dinner speech at the fundraiser on Saturday—” I broke off, not wanting to get into another discussion of Gabriel.

“
Fundraisers are specifically designed to make people feel guilty and shell out.” She shook her head vigorously, making her shiny black hair fly out in a fan. “Don’t let that speaker get to you.”

If Janice only knew how hard I was trying not to.

“Let’s get some food, then I want to know what’s up with Jimmy Lee,” she said.

Over the years Janice had heard many Jimmy Lee stories and usually shook her head in amused tolerance. But when I told her this one, as we both munched on Thai noodle salads, she looked more and more concerned.
“That’s really bad. Let me know if there’s any way I can help.”

“
Thanks.”

“
You don’t seem all that worried.”

“
I know he’s innocent.”

“
Yeah, I’ve known Jimmy Lee forever and of course he wouldn’t do anything like that. But, Iz… I don’t want to worry you, but innocent people do get sent to jail, right?”

“
Richard’s father won’t let that happen.”

“
This is the hot guy, right?”

I winced.
“I never should have told you that.”

“
That means you still think he’s hot.”

“
I’m losing my mind.”

“
Hey, Izzie, it’s like that cupcake store down the street, eh? You can walk past and stare in the window, but it’s not a problem unless you succumb and dash inside and buy everything in sight.”

“
I’m definitely not going to succumb. I mean, not that he’d want me to, or anything.”

“
You don’t figure he thinks you’re hot, too?”

I shook my head quickly, then winced again.
“Well, maybe, just a little. He has this weird, intense way of looking at me. It makes me feel, I don’t know, all tingly. No-one’s ever looked at me that way, so probably I’m reading it wrong. Maybe he’s just thinking I’m totally wrong for Richard.” Thinking of my fiancé reminded me… “Hey, I didn’t tell you our news. Richard and I are going to look for an apartment and move in together.”

She squealed with delight.
“Ooh, I’m so envious! Tell me all about it.”

“
I’d love to, but I’m due back at work.”

Glancing at her watch, she said,
“Yikes, how did it get to be so late?”

Hurriedly, we left the restaurant, then, just as we were saying our goodbyes, she snapped her fingers.
“Knew there was something I forgot. Martin Swallow and I talked on the phone and we’re going to have coffee on Saturday and discuss tutoring.”

“
That’s great, I hope it works out for both of you.”

* * *

I was working the evening shift on Thursday when a golden retriever came in with what’s commonly known as bloat. Hers was a serious case requiring fairly complicated surgery, and Felipe, one of the other vets, assisted me.

The operation went well, but I decided to spend the night at the clinic so I could monitor her condition. The couch in our break room was a pullout, which we used for just this purpose.

For the rest of the night I alternated between the couch and the recovery room, and by morning was feeling satisfied about the golden’s progress. We’d keep her another day or two under close observation, then she could go home.

When Martin came in on Friday morning, I said,
“I’m going to run home for a change of clothes. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“
Sure you don’t want to trade shifts with someone?”

“
No, I’m fine.” I’d slept in cat-naps and actually felt quite rested.

At home, I
’d just finished showering when my cell rang. It was Richard, checking to make sure we were still on for dinner. “There’s something I’d really like to talk to you about,” he said.

“
Seen an apartment?”

“
No, it’s not that.”

“
Oh, have you talked to the mother about the boy, Eric?”

“
Not yet. Look, let’s talk tonight, okay? I can’t go into this now.”

“
Sure.” Curious, I hung up.

I was so busy at the clinic, I soon forgot my curiosity. But, at the end of the day, as I dashed the few blocks to
Sala Thai on Burrard Street, I remembered our earlier conversation and wondered what was on his mind.

Richard was already there, and to my surprise he
’d ordered a bottle of red wine and was well into the first glass. Both of us liked wine but usually we only shared a half liter, except in times of crisis.

I leaned down to kiss the top of his head then seated myself. As he filled my wine glass, I studied him. He wore the usual office garb of suit,
pale shirt, and conservative tie. A lot of women found men in suits attractive, but to me it was a rare man who looked anything other than boring in a suit.

A rare man like Gabriel. A man who was half-panther.

Even though I didn’t care for suits, I had to admit that, in yesterday’s lunch-time fantasy, the husband who’d been looking for his briefcase was wearing a suit. I did, after all, want a man with a successful career. Besides, when Richard came home from work, he usually changed into jeans, and he looked good in them.

Good. Whereas Gabriel, in jeans, looked hot. Damn. Why did Gabriel keep intruding in
to my thoughts?

Guiltily I brought my attention back to Richard, to find him studying the menu assiduously. He always ordered
beef with oyster sauce and broccoli here. Was he thinking of trying something different tonight? Maybe even vegetarian?

But when th
e waitress in her lovely Thai costume came to our table and softly asked if we were ready to order, he shoved at his glasses and said, “Oh, uh, the beef with oyster sauce and broccoli.”

When I
’d placed my own order for pad thai—rice noodles with shrimp, tofu, egg, bean sprouts, and peanuts—I said, “Something’s on your mind. What did you want to talk about?”

He picked up his wine glass, drained it, then refilled it. My own glass was half empty but Richard, usually so attentive, didn
’t even glance at it to see if it needed topping up. Nor had he waited for me to order dinner first, as he typically did.

A shiver of anxiety moved through me. Was something seriously wrong? I picked up my own glass and took a sip.

“It’s about Gabe,” he said abruptly.

Oh god, had he picked up on my bizarre attraction to his father?
“Your father?” Nervously I took a bigger swallow.

He did that shove-up thing with his glasses again, then blurted out,
“He may not be my father.”