by Pat Amsden
She shook her head. “I’m going to have to talk to Heather. They might be pet owners you’ve never talked to.” She couldn’t help noting Wendy hadn’t seemed to be on close terms with her neighbors who were right next door. They had barely recognized Toto and not just because he was such a mess.
“Whatever you do,” Wendy said. “I don’t want you telling the police. I’ll give you the money I owe you tomorrow and then as far as I’m concerned this never happened.” She shivered slightly, hugging Toto closer. “Mummy’s not going to take any chance with your life, there, there…”
Maxine and Heath made their goodbyes and left. Maxine had been afraid Heath would say or do something Wendy would never forgive. She’d seen the glint in his eyes once or twice and been afraid of what irreverent remark he might make.
“How are we doing with the house,” she asked as they walked back to the car.
“I figured I’d go back and spend a couple of hours on the haunted mansion. Heather offered to stay and help along with Marcus so we should have it ready for tomorrow morning.”
She frowned. “I’ll stay too. It’s an important cake.” It would be the centerpiece for the Halloween festivities the Art Gallery was putting on. They were having a showing of haunted houses painted by famous painters.
In addition they’d created a fund raiser where everyone from children to master bakers participated in building Haunted Houses out of gingerbread, cake and other edible items. People paid $1.00 a ticket to vote for the winning ones.
The professional ones were being judged by a panel of judges of which she was one. They were heavily sponsored by various firms and government organizations. The money raised went to supporting a variety of art related charities such as Art Therapy. And everyone had a good time.
The responsibility weighed heavily on Maxine’s shoulders. She’d never been asked to judge such a high visibility event before. And she would be judging other professionals in the food industry. While everyone she’d talked to had assured her she was more than up for the task and no one would be offended no matter what the outcome, she still felt nervous.
Making sure the display house Au Chocolate put up at the opening of the room was a knockout was vitally important to her. As she paused before the partially done haunted house she had to admit she was impressed.
Sugar cookie dough had been shaped into walls to come up with the basic house shape. Ice-cream cones had been used for the turrets. A base of grey fondant had been put on. Different shades of purple would pick up the windows and wainscoting, the delicate fret work on the doors and windows. Spun sugar windows with spider webs done from spun sugar colored silver stood ready to cover some.
Heather was busy making witchy looking dolls out of fondant showing talents Maxine had never dreamed of. She looked as if she belonged, her face showing intense concentration as she delicately placed eyes in her witches face, gently molded a nose.
“You have a real talent for that,” Maxine said watching her.
“I used to love clay work. But you can’t make a living at it.” She carefully pressed strands of colored fondant onto the witches head for hair.
“Maybe not, but I know there’s times I could use your skill around here. By the way Heath said you know of more pets that have gone missing in your neighborhood?”
“At least four,” Heather said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t more. Eliza’s daughter was heartbroken when their labradoodle went missing. I know they papered the neighborhood but as far as I know they haven’t heard anything more. And then there’s Mr. Spratt two streets over. I’ve never done more than smile at him if we passed in the street but he’s got an Alaska Malamute that disappeared a couple of weeks ago. As far as I know it hasn’t been returned. These dogs are like family to these people. Who would do such a thing?”
“I don’t know,” Maxine said grimly. “The money was picked up by what looked like a teenage boy tonight. But I can’t see the average teenager being the brains behind such a scheme.”
“It could be someone who lives in the neighborhood though,” Heather said, finishing off a witch and then cleaning her hands carefully. “Heath said I could use your computer.”
Maxine nodded and Heather went over to it turning it on with practiced ease. “I used Google Maps to pinpoint each of the missing dogs that I’m aware of.” She brought the map up now and Maxine could see red pins for every dog missing.
Wendy’s house was in the epicenter and Maxine felt a prickle of excitement. She wasn’t sure exactly what this meant but she was pretty sure it was important. How many dogs had gone missing? And were they all being ransomed by their owners? At $5000.00 a pop she didn’t see the dog-napper stopping anytime soon.
She said as much to Patrick when he picked her up. But tired, with bags under his eyes that hinted of late nights and looking decidedly crumpled, he wasn’t in the best of moods.
“I’m not saying it’s not important. But I’m in the middle of a major case right now.”
“And this isn’t serious?”
“Look, I know Toto’s like family to Wendy and she’s your friend. But it’s not exactly the same as if someone’s life is in danger.” He held up a hand to forestall her objections before she could voice it. “Toto’s back, Wendy doesn’t want any police involvement and there haven’t been any complaints of dogs missing.”
“Well, considering the response Wendy got when she reported Toto missing I’m not surprised.”
“OK, I get it. See if you can find anymore owners willing to at least talk to the police and I’ll see what I can do. But I have to say the Captain isn’t exactly crazy about investigating crimes no one has even complained about.” His voice sounded strained. “Not if there doesn’t seem to be any immediate danger to humans.”
Their self-defense class was short that night. He did show her how to break an attackers’ hold on her neck if she couldn’t manage to get his arms down with hers. It involved bridging up then sitting down as a crunch. That broke his hold on her and then she could shift sideways with her hips and move one leg onto his hip, then the other leg on his other hip and push him away. Scissoring her hands out she could then grab his wrists and start kicking.
“In the balls, groin, face, don’t show the scumbag any mercy.”
The thought made Maxine shiver. As far as she was concerned if some rat bastard had her down on the ground attacking her she was going to go after him with a vengeance, no holds barred.
She looked at Patrick now, all hot and sweaty. “Why do you do this,” she said. “Why do you put up with me?”
He looked at her in a way that made her blood heat up. “You really have to ask that?”
“You have to admit it would be a lot easier without me in your life.”
He shuddered. “Don’t even go there.” He moved over her again and there was no doubt what he wanted.
She reached up putting her arms around him, as eager for his touch as he for hers. His lips were on hers, gentle, then hard and searching. His body met hers, all hard muscles and bone sinking into her softness and making her want more. So much more…
Chapter Eight
“Jake Jones?” That doesn’t sound very traditional to me,” Maxine said, peering over Heather’s shoulder.
“That’s probably not what’s on his birth certificate. Or maybe it is. Who’d want to stick their kid with a name like Two Feathers or Swims With Otters?” Heather asked. She’d pulled up a string of articles and information on him. Apparently organizing covered a wide array of areas and she seemed a whiz in all of them. Except baking. Cupcakes were clearly not her thing.
“Anyway judging by what I’ve pulled up he seems to have been away back east getting his degree at McGill – pre-med and cultural anthropology, whatever that is. Then sometime in September he starts showing up in protests of the Eagle Ridge development. Bet you that made Zak and his partners happy.”
“So what took him so long? And even if he shows up at the last minute
they’ve already built the development. He can’t seriously think they’re going to tear everything down and go, oops, sorry, my bad. Here’s your land back and we’re going to go develop somewhere else.”
“Who knows,” Heather said, resignation in her voice. “Maybe he’s hoping the government will buy it back for his people. One of my friends bought a place where they suddenly decided there were ancient burial cairns on the land or something. It cost them a fortune. And that’s not even including the creep factor. Imagine waking up and realizing your house was over-top of an ancient burial site.” She shivered.
Jake Jones had suddenly developed a huge interest in his native culture Maxine thought. And she couldn’t help thinking it might be a good idea to find out why. That was why she was taking a few dozen of her best chocolate chip cookies and brookies out to hand out while they protested, along with a 50 cup coffee dispenser.
She had to give it to them. They weren’t fair weather protestors. She shivered pulling her hoodie and rain poncho closer before looking at Heath. She was glad he’d volunteered to come with her. Because faced with a large group of protestors, made up of Indian and other concerned environmentalists she had to admit she was feeling a little intimidated.
“It was a getting a little boring,” Heath said when she commented, giving a slight shrug.
Jake Jones looked at her with suspicion as they made their way over ground turned muddy under the protestor’s feet, fall weather turning short, sunny days to days of fog and rain. It was lightly drizzling down now and she couldn’t help thinking the protestors looked miserable. While most had rain gear they still looked wet and cold.
Except for Jake Jones. A little fog and rain was not going to slow him down. He looked at her red smart car with disdain. She couldn’t help thinking he remembered it from the other day when she’d been out with Tanya. Quite possibly he remembered them. And then she shivered. Now who was letting her imagination get the better of them? How on earth could he remember one car driving by in what was a high traffic area?
“Hi,” she said approaching him with Heath. “I’ve seen you out here before and I thought I’d bring some coffee and treats around.”
His eyebrows went up. “You’re a supporter, then?”
“I try not to take sides,” she said.
He frowned at her. “You run around delivering coffee and cookies to random people?” Disbelieve radiated from him.
She put on her most charming smile. “I’m a local caterer. I make it a point to donate coffee and cookies or chocolates to various events and people to promote my company.”
He grinned at her sardonically. “Do these people look like they hire caterers on a regular basis?”
“These people,” she said, “look cold and hungry. Besides I’ve learned never to judge who would or wouldn’t use a caterer. I’m wrong more often than I’m right.”
He grinned. “If this is an example of your usual judgment, I can see why.”
She flushed and turned away, cursing herself. In her teen years a sideways glance had caused her to blush but she’d considered herself long past those days. Apparently not.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m a caterer, not someone whose life depends on such skills.” She took a deep breath and smiled at him sweetly. “At any rate the coffee and cookies will be enjoyed whether or not my judgment is lousy.”
Heath was already helping one of the protestors bring out a folding table from one of the CRVs parked nearby. Maxine couldn’t help noting that such a vehicle looked more like the vehicle of someone who would hire a caterer than the long gone VW vans, hippies had used to protest with in another era.
Heath set up the coffee dispenser and started filling up cups of coffee. Milk and sugar appeared on the table along with stir sticks.
“I’ll get you a cup of coffee. And a cookie,” she added as she headed towards the table. She didn’t exactly count on it sweetening Mr. Jake Jones up but who knew? It certainly couldn’t hurt.
The others were laying down their picket signs, the smell of fresh hot coffee and cookies enticing them away from protesting. “That hits the spot,” said one.
“I’ll say,” said another. A washed out blonde of about the same age as Maxine she was rail thin and made Maxine want to hug her.
Jake looked annoyed as he took the coffee and cookie from her. “I don’t know what your game is but you’re not going to stop us protesting.” He took a bite of her cookie. “Although I’ll admit you do bake a dam fine cookie.”
“I’ve already told you what my ‘game’ is,” she said exasperated. “I can’t help wondering why you’re protesting now though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “There’s a better time to protest? Early morning, late at night…”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “No, but they’ve already built a huge number of houses. Why didn’t you try and stop them before hand?”
“It shouldn’t have been necessary,” he said stiffly. “Environmental approval should never have been given.”
“But it was,” she said shortly. “Now you’ve got millions of dollars in development, people are already moving into their new homes and you start protesting. Why?”
“So that’s what you’re really doing here.” He headed towards the table and she followed him.
“What? I’m curious.”
“Remember what happened to the cat,” he muttered under his breath.
Maxine stopped in her tracks feeling goose-bumps run up and down her arms. “What did you just say?” she asked incredulously.
“I’m not going to repeat myself,” he said dismissively. “Whoever sent you to snoop, it’s not going to work. Go back and tell them we can’t be scared off that easily.”
Two spots of color on her cheeks betrayed her anger. “I’m not reporting back to anyone,” she said. “I wanted to make it a little easier for everyone out today. It’s not a day I’d want to spend standing around in the rain.”
There was a low murmur of agreement and she noticed no one was in a rush to put down their coffee and cookies to resume protesting. Heath came up beside her. Jake Jones looked furious.
At six feet three Heath projected an aura of calm. He also had the size that made most people decide they really didn’t want to mess with him.
“What was it you just said?” he asked softly.
Jake Jones looked at them both with anger in his eyes. But he didn’t appear to want a confrontation. “You must be mistaken,” he said softly. “I didn’t say anything, except that if she’s trying to find out what we’re doing here she’s wasting her time. Everything that needs to be said, has been said. On the news if you want to check it out.”
Then, seeming to make a decision he said, “you want to know more, give me a call later. I’ll show you what’s at stake. Maybe you can get some of your rich friends to give a dam.”
She stiffened at his words, even as she pulled her phone out. “My friends aren’t all rich,” she said hotly.
“Maybe not but most people hiring caterers have at least a few shekels.”
“I didn’t know that was a crime.”
“It’s not,” he said dismissively. “But it doesn’t give them the right to destroy the environment or my people’s heritage.”
She could see protestors nodding in agreement.
“Just to make it clear,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time I had someone tell me they planned to go destroy the environment that afternoon or stomp all over someone’s heritage.”
“Some people are good at saying all the right words while carrying on their own agenda,” Jake Jones said, his face stone-like.
“Then I’ll be happy to meet with you and hear your side,” she said sweetly, taking his phone number. They spent another half an hour there passing out cookies and cards along with hot coffee.
At least in the presence of Jake Jacobs the protestors were all towing the party line. How dare developers destroy the environment? Why build on an eagle’s nesting site
and they were desecrating native burial grounds. But something felt off and Maxine wasn’t sure what.
She did know she was happy to be driving back to Victoria, Heath by her side, in her little red smart car.
“So what did you think?” she asked now, hoping Heath would shed some light on the subject.
“Why now?” he asked. “And what’s Jacob Jones doing back here instead of finishing his degree?
Good questions. And ones she intended to find the answer to. Sooner, rather than later. But for right now she needed to make sure everything was closed up tight in the shop before going over the judging criteria for the Haunted Houses at the art gallery the next morning.
Voting had been open for the past two weeks so the public had had a lot of opportunity to get their votes in. Now it was up to her and two other judges from the community, both professional chefs.
“Ninety per cent of what you’re voting on is appearance. There is no right or wrong,” Heath said.
“Maybe not but I don’t want to be the one everyone’s looking at, going, “how’d she come up with that decision?”
“So, what are the criteria,” he said, skepticism in his voice.
“I can’t remember. That’s why I’m going to go over it tonight in more detail. And your plans?”
AC Gamers is holding a Halloween Gaming Fest. I’m meeting up with a couple of friends after work and we’ll be going to Save-On Foods Memorial Center.”
“It must be a big event if they’re using the arena.”
“A whole weekend of gaming fun. They’re releasing a new game. I think this is their way of getting a jump on the competition.”
“Makes sense,” she said but she had to admit part of her was miffed. With a games roll-out they must need a caterer. And she hadn’t heard a word. So much for being the best and the only caterer they could really trust.
She didn’t let that bother though as she sent Heath on his merry way. “Don’t worry about it. Jane will make sure the shop is closed up properly and I’ll just pop in to make sure Marcus and Ally haven’t missed anything upstairs.