by Louise Clark
They sat quietly for a few minutes after that, enjoying the closeness and each other, before Christy sat up with a sigh. "I should go in. I need to put the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher and get a laundry going. I'm sure Shively will show up sometime today on one of her unannounced visits. I want the house to be spotless."
"I'll come over when I get back from DeBolt's."
Christy nodded, then Quinn kissed her, a tender kiss that had her lifting her hand to cup his cheek before she slid her fingers into his hair. The kiss didn't demand, it evoked. It offered Quinn's understanding and soothed her own insecurities. It told her he was there for her whenever she needed him, and she responded by showing him how very deeply that moved her.
She wished the embrace would go on forever, but kisses had to end, especially kisses on a single mom's front porch.
Quinn rested his forehead on Christy's for a few moments after he pulled away. His voice had a rueful note as he said, "I don't want to leave you."
Christy made a sound that was half laugh, half sigh. "I don't want you to go, either."
"Someone's got to move," Quinn said.
"Yeah."
He laughed. "Guess it has to be me."
He rubbed his thumb over her mouth. His smile was tender. For a moment Christy thought he was going to kiss her again, but then he stood. He held out his hand to help her up. Then he was gone, loping down her walk, heading for his place.
She watched him go, then, with a little sigh, went up the steps and into her house.
Chapter 27
Quinn went from his meeting with Nathan DeBolt to visit the managing editor of Vancouver's evening newspaper. There he negotiated a deal for a series of articles on the DeBolt family. Before he left he wrote the first one, on his meeting with Nathan, so he didn't return to Burnaby until later in the afternoon. By that time Christy had picked up Noelle from school. She hadn't come in contact with any media and Noelle had had a normal day so she was able to breathe a sigh of relief once they were both home and back in their own space.
With Christmas fast approaching, preparations for the school play were becoming a focus for all of the children. When Noelle asked if Mary Petrofsky could come over so they could practice their parts together, Christy laughed and agreed, as long as it was okay with Mary's mother. It was, so the moment Mary arrived the two girls disappeared into the basement, leaving Christy to worry that Joan Shively hadn't shown up yet that day. She had been so certain she would, because Shively tended to do a home visit whenever the Jamieson name appeared in the press.
The afternoon seemed very quiet with Noelle and Mary off on their own. Outside a steady rain darkened the sky and added a nip to the air. Christy decided it was the perfect day to make a big batch of chili, so she set to work, humming to herself as she chopped onions and peppers and browned the meat in a large kettle.
When Quinn phoned at four thirty, the chili was simmering on the stove.
"Hi," he said. "I'm back. How was your day? Any problems? Did Shively drop by?"
Christy laughed. "I'm glad. Okay. No. And no."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the connection. "I deserved that for shooting off a bunch of shotgun questions. If I got your answers right, your day has been quiet."
"Bingo. You win the prize." She stirred the chili. "How did your interview with DeBolt go?"
"He was surprisingly forthcoming. I don't think he was the one who killed Brittany and Peiling."
"No. I don't think so either."
There was another silence on Quinn's end. "You've figured out who the killer is?"
Christy stared out the kitchen window at the gloomy, wet afternoon. "If I've put it all together right, yeah, I think I have."
"Why don't you come over and we can discuss it."
"I can't. Mary Petrofsky is here and she and Noelle are playing downstairs. Plus I've got a batch of chili on the stove."
"Chili?"
She laughed. "Why don't you come over here? You can stay for dinner. Bring your dad and Trevor too, if he's around. I made a ton."
"I'll come. But..." There was a brief hesitation, then he said, "Trevor is here, but so is Ellen."
Christy thought about Joan Shively and her disapproval. It was unlikely the woman would show up this late. "Bring Ellen too, if she'll come. I'm sure Noelle would be happy to see her."
"What about you?"
Dear Quinn, she thought, worrying about her tangled and tentative relationship with Frank's aunt. "I'm fine. She should come."
"I'll try," he said. "When do you want us?"
"Whenever works for you." She laughed. "Thanks to my concern that Shively would come by today, my house is spotless. All I'll have to do is set the table, and I can do that just before we sit down to eat."
"Or I can do it for you. Okay, we'll be over in a bit."
She hung up the phone, then went to get a bottle of wine from the wine rack in the storage area under the staircase. While she was in the basement, she asked if Mary would like to stay for dinner. The invitation resulted in a spate of energetic activity as Noelle and Mary raced up the stairs so Mary could phone her mom, then, when the answer was positive, some gleeful jumping up and down, before the girls charged back down to the basement to continue their practicing.
The noise woke up Stormy, who had been snoozing on Noelle's bed. The cat padded into the kitchen, whiskers twitching as he took in the scent of stewing beef. What's cooking, babe?
"Chili." Christy stirred the pot.
Your mom's chili? There was a wistful note to the thought.
They'd had a chef at the mansion. In all the years she and Frank had been married, she'd never cooked him a dinner. When they'd met in university, though, he'd shared many meals with her family. Her mother's chili had been his favorite. He'd once told her that he'd never eaten anything better.
"Yup." She hesitated, then spooned some chunks of beef and a little sauce into a bowl. Chili might not be on a recommended cat diet, but she figured a little wouldn't do any harm. She set it aside to cool. Frank might prefer his portion of chili piping hot and right out of the pot, but that was probably more than Stormy's system would be able to handle. Since the cat had been remarkably accommodating for Frank, she wanted to make sure his needs were being looked after too.
Stormy had leapt up onto one of the kitchen chairs and was standing on his hind legs, front paws on the top of the backrest. He was watching her movements with a hungry intensity that made her laugh.
"Not yet." She pushed the bowl into a far corner.
Stormy eased back down onto the chair. He licked a paw just to prove he didn't care and he wasn't anxiously waiting for his supper.
Christy leaned her elbows on the counter and said, "Frank, I've invited the Armstrongs over for dinner so we can talk about the murders."
Don't let them eat all the chili. Save a little for tomorrow.
"Ellen's over at their house right now." She hesitated, then added, "I invited her too."
Stormy slowly lowered his paw. His green eyes stared intently at Christy. I'm okay with that.
"Ellen didn't kill Brittany Day or Jacob Peiling."
She had a sense of something she thought might be a mental snort, then Frank said, Well, duh.
"I think—" The doorbell rang. "That's probably them."
It was indeed everyone from the Armstrong house. Quinn entered first. He shot her a look that told her he'd like to kiss her, but was holding back in front of the others. He did give her hand a squeeze though. And she squeezed back. Roy followed, brandishing a bottle of wine. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and followed his son up the stairs.
Ellen was next. She had the Jamieson poker face on and said coolly, "It was kind of you to invite me, Christy," as she bestowed a reserved air kiss on first one and then the other of Christy's cheeks.
"I'm glad you agreed to join us," Christy said, and surprised herself by meaning it.
The last to arrive was Trevor. He was carrying
a wine bottle too. "It's been hard on her," he said, and shoved the bottle into Christy's arms. Then he followed the rest up the stairs to the living room.
Except no one stopped in the living room. Christy, along with Noelle and Mary, who had bounded up from the basement when they heard the bell, found them all in the kitchen. Trevor and Ellen were already at the table, while Roy and Quinn were locating wineglasses and a corkscrew. The enticing aroma of chili provided a backdrop for the whole scene.
Noelle raced over to Ellen to hug her, then she picked up Stormy, who had taken up a position beside his food bowl, and put him into Ellen's lap. "You should be friends," she said, with great gusto.
There was a moment where all the other adults in the room stared, waiting to see how both Frank and Ellen would react.
"He's a nice cat," Mary said. Her voice was quiet, a little hesitant in the face of a kitchen crowded with adults.
"I'm sure he is," Ellen said gently. She stroked Stormy's head as she had the day before. The cat began to purr. Mary beamed and Noelle kissed both her aunt and the cat before she and Mary headed back to the basement.
"Well," Christy said. She was more shaken by that quiet family moment and what it meant to her daughter than she had expected.
Roy found the corkscrew and began to pour into the glasses Quinn had provided. Christy covered her emotional moment by stirring the chili, while the men passed around the wineglasses and settled at the table. Christy stayed on the cooking side of the counter and listened as Quinn began to talk.
"Nathan DeBolt may be many things, but I don't think a murderer is amongst them," he said. He put his elbows on the table and studied his wineglass as he made small circles on the maple surface with the base. "He was remarkably forthcoming. I think he wanted to talk."
"I am not surprised," Ellen said. "I have never thought Nathan anything but a very respectable man."
Respectable wasn't exactly how Christy would describe anyone in the DeBolt family, but she wasn't about to argue with Ellen, not at that moment. "Did he say why he visited Aaron just before Brittany's death?"
"He went to apologize for not believing in his son's innocence. At that point it looked like the alibi would stand and Aaron would be released. He decided his act of contrition would have more impact if he made it before Aaron was freed rather than once Aaron was out."
Wouldn't have made a difference. All Aaron cares about is money and his father isn't supplying it. The voice sounded sleepy, lazy, and contented. On Ellen's lap, the cat still purred.
Quinn continued on, unaware Frank had commented. "Aaron's reaction was not what Nathan hoped for. Instead of a reconciliation, Aaron sneered. They argued. When Aaron was released, it was Natalie who went to the jail to pick him up. Nathan stayed away."
"Did he see his son while Aaron was free?" Roy asked.
Quinn shook his head. "The first thing Aaron did after his release was to go out clubbing. He got drunk or high and made—in his father's words—a public spectacle of himself. Nathan was not impressed."
"Does Nathan have alibis for the two killings?" Trevor asked.
Quinn nodded. "Pretty strong ones, I think. On the morning Brittany was killed, he was catching an early flight. He was at the airport and already through the security check at the time of her death."
"And the night Peiling was killed?" Trevor asked.
"An emergency board meeting. He wouldn't go into details about why the meeting had been called, but it included all the senior executives in his company as well as a half a dozen outside board members, all men with impeccable reputations. The meeting didn't break up until after nine."
"And Peiling was dead by then. This is very interesting," Roy said with considerable relish. "So you think we can eliminate Nathan DeBolt as one of our suspects?"
"Nathan should never have been a suspect," Ellen said. "He is not the kind of man who would ever kill someone."
Quinn said quietly, "In normal circumstances Nathan DeBolt is capable of almost anything he sets his mind to, but right now he is a broken man." There was compassion in his voice. "He said that Natalie was at the police station with Aaron. I think Aaron's re-arrest has left him shocked and, well, almost devastated, as if he couldn't process it all."
"Surprising, considering his son was charged in Frank's murder before. Why would he be shocked?" Trevor frowned as he shook his head. "Disappointed, sure, but devastated? I can't see it."
Quinn shrugged. "That's how he seemed to me."
"Perhaps it's not just Aaron's re-arrest," Christy said. "I think he's more upset about—"
The doorbell rang. Roy glanced at his watch. "Who could that be? It's almost six o'clock."
"Oh hell," Christy said. Her eyes locked with Quinn's. There was a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with sexual attraction as she saw the startled dismay in his expression.
"Shively," they both said at the same moment.
Chapter 28
A houseful of people, most of whom were drinking wine and talking about murder. Two kids in the basement unsupervised by said adults. Was this enough for child services to remove a child from the care of her mother?
Christy drew a deep breath, gave herself a mental head slap, and told herself to get a spine. Shively could threaten. She could posture. But she couldn't take Noelle away just because the child was playing with a friend safely in her own home.
And, while the other adults in her kitchen were drinking wine, Christy had not yet touched a drop. She planned to, but Shively didn't know that.
The bell rang again. Three times in rapid succession.
Ms. Shively was getting antsy.
"Who is it, Mom?" Noelle shouted from the basement.
Christy reached the landing and looked down the stairs at Noelle, who was standing at the bottom. "I think it's Ms. Shively doing a checkup. Best manners now."
Noelle nodded. Christy drew herself up straighter and lifted her chin. Then she opened the door.
The person on the other side was indeed Joan Shively, standing with her finger on the bell, about to start another series of impatient jabs.
"Ms. Shively," Christy said. She made no effort to invite the woman in.
Shively pursed her lips and looked annoyed. "Mrs. Jamieson. I am here to do a home visit."
Christy raised her brows. "It's almost six o'clock. I was about to put dinner on the table."
Shively frowned. "Dinner at six o'clock? Surely it's rather late for that. I would have expected you would have ensured Noelle had eaten by now."
Was she kidding? Temper flared and put a snap in Christy's tone as she replied. "Have you fed your children, yet?"
Shively reddened. "I did not have your home scheduled for today, so I had to fit it in. Which is why I am running so late. I can assure you that normally I have my family's dinner on the table by five thirty at the latest."
Well, good for you, Christy thought. She was saved from blurting out that comment by Noelle who charged up the stairs to the landing, with Mary in tow.
Studiously polite, Noelle said, "Hello, Ms. Shively. Have you met my friend, Mary Petrofsky? She is in my class at school."
Shively dragged her gaze away from Christy and allowed a thin smile to replace her frown. "Hello, Noelle. It is nice to meet you, Mary."
"Mary is staying for dinner tonight," Noelle said. "I heard Mom say it's almost ready, so Mary and I are going upstairs to wash our hands."
Bless you, Noelle, Christy thought, as the two girls continued up the stairs. There was a powder room in the basement, fully stocked with soap and towels, which Noelle and Mary could have used. By heading upstairs to the main bathroom, and mentioning their purpose on her way there, Noelle had brought it to Shively's attention. The woman would have to give Christy full credit for teaching her daughter good hygiene habits. Hopefully, it would counter the late dinner disapproval.
"I not only have Noelle's friend, Mary, here, but also some other people," Christy said. She moved away from the door. Shiv
ely stepped inside.
"I will endeavor to intrude as little as possible."
Yeah, right, Christy thought. She gestured to the basement. "You may as well start at the bottom and move up. Please note that Noelle and Mary have been playing there for most of the afternoon. I ask Noelle to pick up after herself, and she respects that, but she's only eight. The room might not be perfectly tidy."
She left Shively to poke around in the basement and headed back upstairs. She found Noelle and Mary in the kitchen. Both kids were patting Stormy, who was still on Ellen's lap.
Mary was saying earnestly to Ellen, "I didn't like that lady. She has a scary face."
Ellen, still learning how to be a supportive adult in a child's life, looked taken aback at Mary's disclosure, but after a moment said, "She may look frightening, but that is just her way. She may not know how to be friendly to little girls."
Good one, Aunt Ellen. The cat stood up and stretched, arching his back and shooting his tail straight up so that it quivered. He jumped down and sauntered toward the living room. I'll just go keep an eye on her.
Noelle's face lit up. "So will I. Come on, Mary!"
"Where are we going?" Mary asked, even as she followed Noelle out of the kitchen.
"Where are they going?" Ellen asked as the two girls and the cat disappeared into the other room.
"They are scouting out the enemy," Roy said. He grinned. "I hope Shively isn't allergic to cats."
"I hope she is," Christy said, annoyed. "I hate it that she figures she can come in here and snoop around my house just because my name is in the news again. I've already proven to her that the allegations against me are false. What more does the damned woman want?"
"Good thing I'm here," Trevor said. He looked pleased by the idea of doing battle with child services and Joan Shively in particular.
There was the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, then a thump, as if someone stumbled on one of the stairs.
"Stormy!" they heard Noelle say. "You need to be careful! I'm sorry, Ms. Shively. Our cat is very friendly. He likes people to pat him. That's why he was so close to your feet. He wants you to notice him."