Grave Concern (40 page)

The second invitation having sounded sincere, on Saturday night Kate informed Leonard, who had phoned with an invitation for ice cream at the dairy followed by some old-fashioned snogging in his car at River Park, of her previous commitment and dutifully made her way to Hille and Ron's.

Hille opened the door. “Kate! You're alone. You didn't bring anyone?”

This flustered Kate a bit. Damned if you didn't and damned if you did. “Didn't know I should,” she said.

Hille winked. “I've heard rumours,” she said. “The Ho Lam guy at the video place?” Hille made a funny noise with her tongue.

Ah yes. Small town living
would
jump up and bite a person in the bum. Kate mumbled something as Hille ushered her in and through to the back deck. The group, thank goodness, looked relatively small.

“It's mostly for Croker's special clients,” Hille said. “Kind of a ‘thank you for the business' kind of thing.” (Kate took note — perhaps this was what she had neglected: special client giveaways or get-togethers?) “But Ronnie said I could ask a few personal friends.”

The first person Kate's gimlet eye cut from the herd was John Marcotte. Seeing him here had a disorienting effect: having associated the man mostly with the past, Kate had never considered his having a present life or any role, really, beyond Begetter of J.P. So much less had she considered his purchasing a vehicle. But so he must, and recently, to be here. Kate came over with something like fear, her heart pumping at warp speed. What the hell? she wondered. Fortunately, Hille chose the moment to introduce Kate to a niece, who had been staying with them over the summer to learn the ropes of car sales under Ron's tutelage. The niece, Emma, whom Kate deemed to have aced her lessons, began battering Kate with chatty conversation, which had the salutary effect of stunning Kate's anxiety into abeyance.

The evening progressed, and Kate believed things to be going well, particularly considering the last-minute nature of her invitation. She had enjoyed a well-marinated strip loin, some decent wine, and some good conversation both with strangers and casual friends. And she had successfully avoided John Marcotte. She had even managed to slip a business card to two new-to-town recent retirees, who inexplicably held in their hands a similar card from Krebs and Krebs.

Toward the end of the evening, in an enviable collection of Muskoka chairs on the raised deck, seven or eight guests lingered as the last light painted the treetops pink. John Marcotte was not among them, thank God, presumably having already left. Greta, however, was, having somehow materialized when Kate wasn't looking. So, Krebs and Krebs reached even here.

Despite Kate's strenuous effort, conversation inevitably turned toward the unique nature of Grave Concern. Being a mostly business bunch, everyone demonstrated at least an interest if not outright awe at the venture's apparent success. Kate basked in the glow, being sure to mention small glitches and funny mistakes for the sake of good manners and humility.
If only they knew
, she thought.
If only they knew how close to the bone Grave Concern really is
.

Despite the unexpected presence of Greta, turned away talking to someone else, a warm glow of fellow-feeling was building inside Kate. Looking around, she could see the remaining guests were, for the most part, fellow small-town entrepreneurs, a role Kate had of late come to highly respect. And as for the boys' club safari adventure — hadn't it succeeded only in bagging poor Buck Miller's testicle? Even her abhorrence of Ron, his cougar-stalking and other irritating habits, had dwindled markedly. Perhaps the Ron-and-Hille-gong-show groupies weren't so bad. After all, Kate would have to live peaceably alongside these people for the rest of her natural — or unnatural — life. Why not forgive and forget human frailty and try to get along? Thus had three glasses of wine massaged Kate's cramped heart.

The less-benevolent fourth now loosened her tongue. Talk had turned to newspaper obituaries. Greta quoted a verse of remembrance that had recently appeared in the
Snooze
. Misconstruing Greta's purpose, and eager to make up for past bad blood, Kate burst out, “Oh yeah, wasn't that
awful
? When I read that, I laughed my head off.” Greta's subsequent stony silence revealed to Kate the terrible depths to which the proud could fall.

Ever the hostess, kind Hille at that very moment pointed out to Kate's bereaved, doggerel-loving, ex-friend and business rival a star just then shooting through the sky.

“Hey Gret, I'll bet that's your sister right there,” she said.

“On that lovely note,” someone said, “I think it's time for my pillow.”

“Mine, too,” said another, and everyone began to stand up and stretch, making their excuses.

Kate remained in her chair as though glued, her self-respect shrivelled, like a woollen sweater in the dryer, to a tiny version of itself. Fear of Krebsian reprisal began a terrible prowl in her heart.

7

The Fire

On Sunday morning, after a sleepless night, Kate phoned Mary. She got a recording, the same as always, in Mary's broadest Newfie accent, “Whatever you're proposin' I'm not like ta be goin' along with, but if I like the sounds o' ya, I'd be tickled to call ye back.”

Kate hung up in disgust. Her finger hovered for some moments over the speed dial before she called Leonard.

“Leonard, I'm moving. I can't stand it here anymore,” she said.

“Whooa. Whaaat?”

“I suck at business. I suck at social life. I just suck, period,” she said. “I don't belong here.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Did something happen last night? As if I need to ask.”

Kate gave in to her fatigue. “And I haven't slept a wink all night. I feel like crap. And I'm acting completely immature, calling you like this and wailing on about myself and not even asking how you are. I even suck at Kate-and-Leonard. I suck at, at — being adult!”

“Okay, Kate, calm down,” said Leonard. “Don't do anything stupid. I'll be right there.”

The Harley pulled in on a low purr. Leonard must have had the noisemaker de-installed. Kate couldn't help but smile. If a guy's willing to do that for a gal, well. Not only that, but strapped to Leonard's back was a guitar! What, AND he could play the guitar? If she did blow this place, for sure he'd have to come with. Already she felt a smidgen better. She opened the door, and Leonard walked in, taking her by the hand as he headed for her dad's old easy chair.

“Have a seat,” he said. Having settled himself on the couch, Leonard began to strum. His voice was good — another pleasant surprise.

How many clues must our Kate track down

Before she will ever give up?

How many graves must our Kate fix up

Before she finally settles down?

How many time zones must a guy fly across

Before he gets clearance to land?

The answer my friend is your friend Ho Lam

The answer is your friend Ho Lam

How many years can an old love exist

Before it washes back ashore?

How many years can a woman exist

Before she goes for something more?

How many times can a man turn his cheek

And pretend that it hasn't felt her hand?

The answer my friend is your friend Ho Lam

The answer is your friend Ho Lam

How many times must a man get chatted up

Before he gets Call Display?

How many scams must one man slam down

Before the display says “Kate”?

How many years will it take till Smithers

Becomes Smithers Ho Lam?

The answer my friend is in Kate's hands

The answer is in Kate's hands

When Kate stopped laughing, she said, “Is that a proposal?”

“I didn't write it that way, but maybe that's how it came out.”

“I'm not so keen on that line about ‘settling down.' What exactly are you getting at? Not me giving up work, or anything crazy like that.”

“Nothing nefarious. Honest! I just couldn't think of any good rhymes, really. More of a psychological settling down, I guess.”

“Good,” said Kate. “ 'Cause otherwise I might have to think twice about your potential marriage-ability.”

The look on Leonard's face was one of horror. “No, no! Please. In fact, I've got an idea to enhance the business.”

“Yeah? Well then, conjugal bliss is a remote possibility again. But my grave reservations stand.”

“Suits me,” said Leonard. “As long as it's before my RRSPs turn over into RRIFs.”

But the mention of RRIFs and RRSPs just brought on Kate's melancholia again. She got up and went over to the couch, plunking down beside Leonard. “
My
RRSPs are pretty much non-existent,” she said. “I don't think they're gonna take me much past sixty. At this rate, I'll never see old age.”

“Maybe that's not such a bad thing,” Leonard said.

“Hey, wait a minute,” said Kate, perking up. “You're saying it's okay if I croak before my time for want of food and shelter?”

“I'm just saying it's not the end of the world.”

“It's the end of
my
world,” said Kate. She frowned and sat up. “Wouldn't you mourn just a
little
bit?”

“It's not the end of the world because by then you and I are going to have our own place, a nice little bungalow closer to the river, I'm thinking — not so hard to keep up as this place.”

“What's hard?” said Kate, but at the same moment she shivered, remembering her first winter back in Pine Rapids when, reaching into the dark downstairs closet, thinking to use her mother's nice old pile-lined winter boots, she'd plunged a hand blindly into the boot, only to retrieve it covered in sunflower seeds and mouse poop.

“We're going to consolidate our assets,” Leonard continued. “You can fire Bill Chambers as your landlord and move Grave Concern into Ho Lam Video and Electronic. There's way more space than I need, especially as I'm planning to go into computers. And
they're
just getting smaller, right? Gonna ditch the other electronics; everyone just goes to Canadian Tire or The Source. We'll combine our businesses somehow. It'll be a win-win. Whaddya say?”

“I've heard
that
before. That's what I say,” said Kate.

“What? Combining businesses? Did I float this by you before?”

“Nope. The win-win thing. I hate that phrase.”

“Sorry.” Leonard made an exaggerated zipping-lip gesture. “I swear it'll never pass my lips again.”

The truth was, Kate was floored. Nothing even approaching Leonard's suggestion had ever even crossed her mind. Why hadn't it? she wondered. Although, to be sure, it was hard to imagine how computers and grave-tending would mix. But then again, isn't that exactly what Krebs Life Passage Services had done with their fancy audiovisuals? Maybe she and Leonard, putting their brains together, could find a more tasteful approach.

“Leonard,” said Kate. “You're brilliant. I accept.”

“My hand in marriage?” joked Leonard.

“Cut it out,” said Kate. “I mean moving into Ho Lam. So what about your parents? Don't they have a say? In fact, isn't it
their
business?”

“Not anymore,” said Leonard. “As of last week. I bought them out. Mom hasn't had too much to do with it for ages, and Dad's ecstatic. That place was causing him nothing but grief. Now he can get on to what he really wants to do, which is fly his remote-controlled biplanes in the afternoons with the other geeks down at River Park. Now, maybe I can start making some
real
money.”

“
We
can start making some real money, you mean.”

“Sorry, you're right.
We
.”

“Don't forget, we're partners, now,” said Kate.

“I wouldn't dare,” Leonard said.

“By the way,” said Kate. “The song. You had that on tap for a while?”

“Nah. Made it up on my way down here,” Leonard said.

“Ah,” said Kate, trying not to smile.

Early September. Afternoons still held the summer's heat, but the crisp mornings and soft, golden evenings could be counted on for relief. On a whim one Tuesday, Kate packed up a lunch and her laptop and jumped in the car. Her first stop was the office, where she hung a sign on the door: “
SORRY, CLOSED TODAY ONLY. DOUBLE YOUR PLEASURE TOMORROW
.” She continued across town to a little-used gravel road. In her day, the road had serviced two or three small cottages out of sight down by the river. Since then, more cottages, permanent homes, even a holiday mansion or two had sprung up along the old road. Still, most were tucked back in the woods, maintaining the illusion of a quiet country lane. The road dead-ended, and Kate parked, not at all sure she would find what she had come for. But the path was still there, wider than ever, obviously well known.

A ten-minute hike through the woods took Kate to the rocky point she used to visit with friends on long, lazy, summer afternoons. Here, well downstream of the dam with its furious tailrace, the river's true, light-hearted nature was revealed. Deep, gently swirling pools near shore were perfect for swimming. The surrounding rocks, heated up in the sun all those years ago, had warmed their shivering young bodies only to urge them to jump in again.

When she came out of the trees, Kate was almost afraid to look, for fear it would all have changed. What if the pools were gone? And the rocks … But it was all still there, much as she'd remembered it, if not quite as idyllic. Kate picked up an unsightly beer can and climbed up on her favourite rock — a smooth, sloping hunk of granite near the water. She opened her laptop and booted it up, only to find the bright outdoor light made it nearly impossible to read anything on screen. Kate looked up. The river was beaten silver. Along the bank, tall poplars rustled yellow-tinged leaves as though restless.

Kate threw a shirt over her head and the laptop, creating a dark space in which to do nothing but think. She would lay it all bare on the screen and get her own restlessness out.

THE PROBLEM OF J.P.

Knowns

1. He went into the burning hotel for something, which could have been a) Raw-Raw, b) the strongbox, c) to phone 911 or d) all or some of the above.
   
2. J.P. was being beaten while he lived here.
   
3. But apparently not, or not always, by his dad, John Marcotte.
   
4. Which leaves his brother, whose angry face he depicted in the poster.
   

Unknowns

What was his brother's problem?

THE
PROBLEM OF RAW-RAW

Knowns

1. He lives and is one and the same as Gronk.
   
2. He knows words: “grand” and “ten grand.”
   
3. Which suggests he heard people, likely J.P., referring to such a sum.
   
4. Which suggests the strongbox was important and real.
   
5. Ravens in general like to bring larger carnivores into the picture, to make their dining easier. They do this by calling them from afar, alerting them to a kill or carcass.
   
6. Ravens like shiny things.
   
7. Ravens are playful and take people's windshield wipers and drop them on other cars.
   

Unknowns

1. What is Raw-Raw on about with the ten grand? Does he know other words that might be helpful?
   
2. Was it Raw-Raw who originally moved J.P.'s grave marker stake?
   

THE PROBLEM OF THE BIKERS

Knowns

1. They wanted a cut of J.P.'s business.
   
2. They wanted to give him a stern warning. Hence the fire.
   

Unknowns

1. Why would they burn his place down if they wanted him to keep doing well so as to (1) above?
   
2. Was the hotel burning a mistake? Was the original plan to just burn the shed?
   
3. Did they have any knowledge of the strongbox and the amount of money in it? Was there any motive there for the fire?
   

THE PROBLEM OF THE STRONGBOX

Knowns

1. It existed. Likely metal and somewhat fireproof.
   
2. Metal is shiny. See Raw-Raw above.
   

Unknowns

1. What happened to the strongbox? Did it survive the fire?
   
2. If so, what happened to it? Does family know?
   
3. Is it buried with J.P.? And if so, why?
   
4. The presence of a strongbox would strongly suggest the reason for the diggings at the fake grave.
   
5. Who was digging at the grave? Most likely: John Marcotte (who obviously could do with some money); Nicholas (who knew about it from J.P. and who left town awfully fast after the cougar was found).
   
6. Is there some collusion between John Marcotte and Nicholas? Or competition? Perhaps re the strongbox?