by Boswell Joan
“But why would he pick the church?”
“What better place to exercise power, to play with people’s lives, to hide his true nature.”
“Thanks—it’s the one explanation I came up with. It makes me feel a little better to realize he may have been a professional manipulator—I was way out of my league.”
Rhona, with a thousand ends to tie up, excused herself. As she drove away, she resolved to tender her resignation, to end her career with the Ottawa police with this case. She fished her cell phone out of her bag and called Zack to share the good news.
Elsie must have been watching, because when Detective Simpson drove away, she clumped downstairs.
“I probably shouldn’t ask, but can you tell me what happened to Knox.”
“He’d dead. I’m sure it’ll be on TV and in the paper by tomorrow. He killed Paul.”
Elsie absorbed Hollis’s bald statement. For once, she had nothing to add, no bright encouraging words to offer.
“I can’t tell you any more. I would if I could.”
“I know you would. What a time you’ve had. I’ve run a nice hot bath for you. Why don’t you let me help you upstairs.”
Soaking in the tub, Hollis allowed the hot water and fragrant lavender bath salts to perform their soothing magic but knew nothing would ever be the same.
Paul’s murder had changed lives.
Tessa and Kas had gone through hell. She wondered if Kas would ever forgive Tessa and if Tessa would reconcile herself to her lack of faith in Kas. Marcus had already forgiven her, but the opening of old wounds couldn’t have been pleasant. With Sally gone, JJ and Daniel would be grief stricken. Marguerite would bear forever the weight of the suicide of the woman Paul had seduced. Denise’s life had changed because of Paul’s diabolical will. The Porters—she even felt sorry for Knox, pushed by Paul to act as he had.
Paul had a lot to answer for. Although it was never right to take the law into your own hands, she understood how Paul had trapped Knox and pushed him into a corner where he felt he had no other option but to cut off Paul’s tale with a carving knife.
Her own epiphany had begun in the first few paces of the marathon, but it hadn’t ended there. She’d learned about herself, about her ability to delude herself, to pretend things were okay when they weren’t. Somehow, although she’d backslide, she resolved to be more honest with herself in the future.
She drained the water and climbed out of the tub determined to make amends for some of the wrongs Paul had done. She carefully eased herself into jeans and a white shirt, replaced the sling, snuggled her feet in her comforting moccasins and walked slowly downstairs.
In the kitchen, Elsie poured her yet another cup of coffee.
“Try these butterscotch squares,” she urged, passing a cookie tin.
MacTee, sensing this might be the time he’d receive a treat, did what retrievers do and sat down. He’d long since discovered good things happened to dogs who sat. And it did. Hollis shared a morsel and prepared to learn to live after the fall.
Joan Boswell was born in Toronto and grew up in Ottawa, Edmonton, Oakville and Halifax. She has had work published in magazines and anthologies in Canada and the United States. As a member of the Ladies’ Killing Circle, she has had stories in each of their six books: The Ladies’ Killing Circle, Cottage Country Killers, Menopause Is Murder, Fit to Die, Bone Dance and When Boomers Go Bad. (coming in Fall 2005 from RendezVous Crime). She has also co-edited the last three books. In 2000, she won the $10,000 Toronto Sunday Star short story contest. Cut Off His Tale is her first novel.
Joan lives in Toronto with two flatcoated retrievers and enjoys life with her grown sons, their partners and her grandchildren.