They’d somehow progressed to comparing cancer caregiver experiences when the doorbell rang. Amy placed her half-finished drink on the side table. “They’ll probably join us in here.” Would this be good cop, bad cop, or new cop?
Aunt Bay ushered a uniformed officer and two others in civilian dress into the room. The lead officer held a clear plastic bag with the broken doll.
Michael followed, carrying chairs from the kitchen. “Excuse the art on display everywhere. We have an open house tomorrow.” He glanced at the man in uniform. “Unless you tell us otherwise.”
Amy took her foot off the stool. “You’ve worked too hard to cancel.”
Michael still looked pale. What had Gilles’ friend said? “Your safety comes first.”
The officer scanned the room. “I’m Constable Arnsberger. My associates, Finn and Kane, bring some special expertise to the case. They’ll make the call on the event going ahead. Which one of you discovered the doll?”
Neal lifted a hand from the arm of his chair. “Neal Williamson. I found it on the doorstep when I arrived. I assumed it was a neighbour’s lost toy, and brought it inside.”
“You were unaware of the previous warnings?”
“Correct.”
Aunt Bay told the rest of the story and fixed a stern eye on Constable Arnsberger. “How are you going to stop these people and keep Amy safe?”
“Ms. Rockland, I can assure you we will do everything in our power to ensure the safety of each one of you. Ms. Silver is clearly the primary target, but it may be that those close to her are in danger as well.” He gestured to Finn and Kane. “With your permission, I’d like to ask my associates to go through the house and assess your security.”
“Michael?”
“Of course.”
Once they left, Arnsberger settled in one of the kitchen chairs and dropped the bagged doll at his feet. He opened a notebook. “We know essentially what happened, but I’d like to hear what each of you has to add. Impressions, related incidents, anything that comes to mind. Most of it won’t be connected, but sometimes what looks like an insignificant detail can be critical.”
All eyes turned to Amy. She focused on Arnsberger. “It has to be about the plane crash. I’ve had warning texts from this guy who claims he was Gilles’ friend, and flak from Gilles’ father. A phone call, a letter, and now this doll. And Troy — the reporter who started the sabotage idea. Someone ran him off the road.”
Arnsberger made a note. “We couldn’t be sure that was connected. I’ll take another look.”
Amy shifted in her chair. “Gilles’ father knows who’s behind this.” And he’d kill her for saying so. “He’s terrified. But we can’t let them win.”
Michael pressed his lips together and stared at the floor.
The officer glanced at him, then back at Amy. “Would you give me his contact information?”
“He may be too scared to talk to you. What if they find out?” She brought up the contact list on her phone and read off Luc’s phone number. “I don’t know if he’s still in town. He shuttles between here and Montreal.”
Aunt Bay didn’t have much to add. Michael spoke even less. Arnsberger’s gaze made Amy feel vaguely guilty, but she had nothing else to offer. And this problem wasn’t her doing.
Finn joined them. “Everything is as secure as it can be in a private dwelling. Keep your doors and windows locked as a precaution, and let your security system provider know there’s been a threat.”
Arnsberger stood. “Maybe they’re just trying to scare you enough to stop asking questions, but we can’t be sure of that. Call if you encounter anything suspicious.” He picked up the evidence bag. “Is Kane nearly done?”
“Almost.”
Amy kept her eyes averted from the doll in the bag. “What about the show tomorrow? Can we go ahead?”
“There’s been no clear threat connected with the event. Whatever they plan, they won’t want to have witnesses. I see no need to cancel.” Finn’s grim tone did not inspire confidence.
“Thank you.” Michael rose and shook both officers’ hands.
As everyone stood and filtered toward the door, Amy found herself beside Arnsberger. She hesitated. “Constable, I know you’re busy, but would you have time to let my neighbour’s son have a look at your cruiser? He’s seen them here a lot lately, and he’s only four. It’d be a big deal for him.”
Constable Arnsberger checked his watch. “I think we could fit that in. Let me lock the evidence in the trunk. He doesn’t need to see that.”
“Thank you. I’ll phone them.”
Safia and Dafiq arrived in minutes. The boy’s brown eyes shone, and if his grin grew any wider, his face would split. Arnsberger showed him around the car and even let him sit behind the wheel. A siren pierced the air. Amy jumped, then giggled at the embarrassment on Safia’s face.
The car door opened, and the boy zoomed to his mother’s side. “Didya hear? He let me do the siren!”
Arnsberger followed, smiling. “He was careful to ask before he touched anything.” He squatted beside the boy. “It was good to meet you, Dafiq. You take good care of your mom, now.”
Dafiq seemed to grow visibly. “I will. Daddy too. I wanna be a police officer when I grow up. I’ve been watching for bad guys.”
Arnsberger raised an eyebrow. “Have you seen any?”
“There was someone sneaking around Mr. Michael’s house today.” His high-pitched voice stopped the other conversations.
Still crouched to Dafiq’s eye level, Arnsberger looked up at Safia. “I’d like to hear that story.”
Chapter 23
Amy looked around the table. Nothing like a little danger to accelerate the bonding between her and Neal. If thinking about the broken doll didn’t make her shiver, she’d almost want to thank her unseen enemy.
The officers had finally gone, with a side-trip to Safia’s house so Dafiq could tell his story with his father present. Safia had whispered a promise to phone if he saw anything else.
Hungry and with the ice definitely broken, Amy, Neal, Michael, and Aunt Bay had talked their way through dinner. Amy made her slice of hazelnut-spice cake last as long as she could. She licked the crumbs from her fork. “Neal, this was amazing.”
“I took a chance. Your mother loved spice cake.”
“I have her recipe somewhere.”
Michael raised a hand. “I volunteer to taste-test it.”
Aunt Bay swatted his arm. “You already work this girl too hard.”
“I do not. House rules. Everyone takes a turn in the kitchen, and what better way to spend it than making cake?”
“Listen to yourself. If you ate as much as you talked about it, we’d have to roll you up the stairs at night.”
Neal drained his coffee cup and pushed back from the table. “It’s been good to meet you all.” His eyes lingered on Amy. “Especially my daughter. I should get out of your way and let you recover from the unwanted excitement. Please think about coming home with me until this settles?”
He directed a sharp look at Michael. “In the meantime, keep her safe. And keep me in the loop.”
Michael nodded, face grim.
Amy walked him to the door. As Neal turned to leave, she seized her courage and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you. This means more than you know.” She retreated, face burning. What if he wasn’t a hugger?
Neal’s throat worked. “It means a lot to me, too. I’m proud of you, Amy Silver. Stay safe. And have a great show tomorrow. I’ll phone you on Sunday.” He stepped out into the night.
Amy locked up behind him, and pressed her palm against the door. “Good night… Dad.”
She went back to the kitchen to help with cleanup. “Thank you both so much for welcoming my father.” And for not judging me. How could she have feared that for so long? But wasn’t that what children did? Accepted the labels adults — and sometimes classmates — attached to them?
Aunt Bay looked up from wiping the table. “Neal s
eems like a good man. I wish we could have met without the drama.”
At the sink, Michael made an affirmative-sounding grunt. He tackled a suds-filled roasting pan with a scrub brush. “Are you glad you found one another?”
“I am. He’s nothing like I’d dreamed as a child, but he’s real. I think we hit it off okay. I feel… I feel like I belong.”
Michael concentrated on scrubbing the roaster. “You already belonged. With us.”
“I value that too, Michael. But there’s something about your own flesh and blood… I knew the hurt is greater if they reject you, but I didn’t know the other side of it. How good it feels when they choose you.” Amy snagged a tea towel from the hook and picked up the smaller pot from the dish drainer.
“So you’re going to let him take you away.”
“What?”
Aunt Bay returned her cloth to the sink. “Michael, we all want what’s best for Amy. If that means we let her go, then we let her go. With our blessing.”
The scowl he aimed at the roaster should have blistered its finish. He rinsed it and plunked it in the drainer.
Amy half-turned toward him and leaned her hip into the counter. “You need to dial back on your protective streak. I am petite, but I’m all grown up. I won’t be taken anywhere I choose not to go. I’ve gotta say, right now you’re not making me want to stay.” Except leaving — permanently — would break her heart.
She grabbed the roaster and spun away from him, wiping it with energy that matched Michael’s scrubbing zeal.
Behind her, Aunt Bay chuckled. “I expect you had to dish out that petite-grown-up line more than a few times in the corporate world.”
Amy turned to face her. “You have no idea. If I wore heels and makeup, the guys in the branch thought it was an invitation, and if I wore flats and dressed low-key, they treated me like a child. They were fine with the other women, but I earned every scrap of respect I built there. Sometimes the customers were worse than my co-workers.”
She set the roaster on the counter, warmed by a sudden memory. “Although I met Gilles in the bank.” She smiled. “He stepped into my office, claimed he had an appointment, and insisted I go to lunch with him before he’d discuss his needs. I said no. Every day he returned with a gift… chocolate, an aloe vera plant, a little plush beaver with a note that said I worked too hard… a framed photo of himself for my desk.”
Aunt Bay arched an eyebrow. “Very Gilles.”
“Anyone else would have been labelled a stalker. My manager offered to ban him from the premises, but Gilles didn’t cause trouble, and he never hung around to bother me. By the second week, my co-workers all thought he was a great guy. Some had even gone for drinks with him. That Friday’s gift was a bright red journal and pen. He’d already written in it — a list of reasons ‘Why I need to date Gilles Renaud.’ His list filled the first page. Some of it was pretty out-there. He numbered the lines on the next three pages and left them for me to fill out. I looked at it all weekend. Monday, we went to lunch.”
“He was one of a kind.” Michael shook his head, a pensive smile on his face. “So, did you finish the list?”
Amy nodded. “By then he’d changed the title to ‘Why I need to marry Gilles Renaud.’ It sounds like a bad movie, but Gilles made it magical. And real. Michael, remember when he phoned you to vouch for him?”
He laughed. “Suddenly I’m talking to this strange woman and giving a character reference. And she says Gilles asked her to marry him.” Pain filled Michael’s eyes. “He didn’t deserve what happened.”
“We’re all agreed on that.” Aunt Bay took the tea towel from Amy and hung it to dry. “I’m glad we’ve had you here with us. If you need to go, I hope you’ll come back. Especially since you and I were about to start looking into the Bible together.”
Amy’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what to do.”
The doorbell rang. Amy stiffened, but Michael was already leaving the room.
His aunt called after him. “Use the peephole.”
Male voices sounded from the entrance. A minute later, Michael returned with a swarthy, heavy-set man with a bushy, black moustache. “This is Del. He works with Gilles’ friend, Nathin. When I phoned earlier, Nathin said to text when our guest had gone, that there’d be a package for us.”
Del extracted a brown bag from a cavernous pocket in his coat. He looked at the table. “May I sit?”
“Please.” Michael and Amy joined him.
Aunt Bay reached for the kettle. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“No, thank you, Ma’am. This won’t take long.”
Aunt Bay took the fourth seat, peering at the bag.
Del produced three identical black objects, each smaller than a compact flip cell phone. “Keep these on you at all times. Or within reach, if you’re in the shower. My organization is working with the local police on this, but out of sight. We don’t want to spook our targets now.”
He slid a unit toward each of them. “Amy, I wish you’d taken Nathin’s first warning to stay out of this, but it may work out for the best. You’ve agitated these people. That may lead to mistakes on their part. Unfortunately, now you’re in the line of fire.” He blinked rapidly. “So to speak. We don’t anticipate any shooting.”
Amy’s heart dropped. She met Michael’s eyes. “What have I done?”
He reached for her hand. “None of us expected this. You were right that Gilles deserved justice.”
“But I’ve put you both in danger and we still don’t know why.”
Del leaned on the table. “I know why. And we will bring an end to this. For the next few weeks, I want you to act like everything’s normal, but be vigilant.”
“Few weeks?” The squeak was back in Amy’s voice. “What if I left? I have a place I could go.”
Above the huge moustache, Del’s eyes were compassionate. “Amy, if you have to run, be sure to let us know where you’ll be. I can have someone liaise with you there. Ideally I’d prefer to keep the three of you together. You can watch one another’s backs.”
Aunt Bay prodded the black device with her index finger. “What do these do, and how do we use them?”
“Basically they’re stripped-down cell phones with preset speed dials. Hit number one, you’ll reach my team. I want to know anything that seems unusual, anything that makes you nervous. Don’t second-guess, just call. Until this is settled, you’re allowed to be paranoid.”
He spread one hand on the table, palm down. “Play things very casual, and say nothing more about the plane crash. Another of my team is having this same conversation with the reporter who started it all.”
Amy picked up the little phone. “Troy won’t back down from an investigation.”
“He will for the sake of three innocent civilians. Or at least to be first in line for the story when it breaks.” Del pulsed his thumb on the table. “We’re lining up our evidence. If you don’t make any more waves, best case these people will think they’ve scared you enough and they’ll leave you alone.”
“Worst case?” Aunt Bay asked the question on Amy’s lips.
“Worst case, if you can’t even phone us, watch this.” Del picked up Michael’s device. “See this slider here on the side? Push it in and slide it this way, and it’ll send an alarm signal to my team. This is for extreme situations only. We don’t want to draw attention to you by scrambling a rescue force unnecessarily.”
Amy’s imagination flashed a picture of soldiers in flak jackets, hefting enormous rifles. Her skin felt suddenly clammy. “But you think we’ll be okay.”
“I think so. But I’m not a fortune teller.” Del’s smile was as big as his moustache.
It didn’t comfort Amy at all.
Chapter 24
Emilie showed up at ten on Saturday morning, yawning and clutching a take-out coffee, offering to help set up. Aunt Bay lifted an eyebrow at Amy. They’d been up since six for a sturdy breakfast and last-minute clean-up. The displays were careful
ly positioned, without Michael’s newest painting. Amy had heard him in his studio late last night, but he hadn’t found the final element of serenity he needed for the piece.
Amy fingered the security device in her pocket. This didn’t feel real. How could a simple question about their plane crash plunge her into danger — along with Michael and Aunt Bay? Without even the satisfaction of answers?
She grinned at Emilie. “Love the orange hair.”
“It’s good for autumn. I’ll match the trees.”
Michael came out of the kitchen. “Hey, Emilie. Thanks for coming. The caterers will be here soon, but until then we have a few quiet minutes. You three chat for a bit. There’s something I need to check on.”
Aunt Bay followed him toward the stairs. “I’m going to have a brief lie-down while I can. Getting old is a pain.”
“You’ll always be young at heart.” Amy went into the living room and sank into a chair. Her hip had a long day ahead. At least with Del’s promise to mingle with the visitors, she didn’t feel too unsafe.
They’d agreed not to tell Emilie about the danger, or about Del’s investigation. If something spooked the girl during the open house, who knew what she’d do? Plus, if her father found out, they had no guarantee he could keep it from his enemies.
Emilie surveyed the art arranged around the room, sipping her coffee. “Michael does such good work.” She settled across from Amy. “You look terrible. No offence.”
Amy bit her tongue. Who looked their best in the middle of setting up for an event? “I’ll change and do my makeup once I see if the caterers need help with anything.”
“No, I mean it. Are you sleeping okay? Nothing’s going on, is it?”
“This hasn’t been a great week for sleep, but I can make it. I’ll crash tonight.”
“Can you sleep late while Michael and his aunt go to church, or will you be scared again?”
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