She saw her reflection superimposed around the boy and said, “Middle-aged, recently divorced, living with Mom.”
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing.” She picked up another potato. The pot began to boil.
“Speak up! I’m deaf you know!” Nanny leaned to pick up her smokes.
Christ, she’s gonna blow us up, Beth thought. “It’s beautiful out. Why not go outside on the deck?”
“It’s my house and I’ll do what I damned well please!”
Scout’s nose peeked out from under the table. Beth said, “How are you doing, girl?” Scout’s nose lifted and she crawled forward.
“I told you, I can’t cope anymore!” Nanny said.
“Feeling more like yourself?” Beth said to Scout.
“No! Haven’t you been listening?” Nanny stabbed the air with an unlit cigarette.
“I think we should call the police.”
“Police couldn’t help when they took my Judy away.”
Nanny took a breath. “Police couldn’t help when they broke into the store.” Leona lifted a Kleenex out of the box.
“Police couldn’t help when they slashed my tires.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Police couldn’t stop the nasty phone calls.” Her right hand shook. She reached for the lighter. “Police couldn’t help when they turned my Judy against me.” The lighter flared.
Feet pounded the deck. “Hey!” Ernie said.
The tags around Scout’s neck clinked together. She whined to get outside.
“Do I have to do everything around here?” Nanny leaned and opened the sliding door.
“Don’t!” Ernie said.
“It’s my house and… ”
Beth saw the black flash of a rodent’s horizontal tail.
“I’ll do what… ” Nanny said.
Scout’s nails scattered over the linoleum. She was all teeth and rage.
“Ernie!” Beth said.
A coffee coloured squirrel glared down at them from atop the fireplace ledge.
Scout growled.
“Why’d you let that thing in here?” Nanny said to Ernie.
“You opened the door!” Ernie said.
“Don’t get smart with me!”
“That squirrel’s been teasing Scout all summer,” Ernie stood, half inside the room and half out.
“I don’t care! Just get that damned thing out of my house!” Nanny said.
Beth saw her son’s mouth forming a reply. Fighting with her mother was as inevitable as the coming of winter. The old woman’s ensuing resentment thawed slightly faster than a glacier.
“Ernie!” Beth said.
He looked her way, his eyes black with rage.
She motioned with her hand, “Come here, please.”
He walked into the kitchen.
Beth took careful aim and tossed the potato. It slapped against the brick just centimeters above the squirrel.
The squirrel sprang.
Scout leapt to intercept. For an instant it looked as if she might close her mouth on the tip of the squirrel’s tail.
Scout thumped back to the floor. The rodent landed on the top of Nanny’s head then jumped through the opening.
Nanny’s mouth formed an O of surprise.
Scout was a tail length behind the squirrel. It leapt off the deck and onto the white table top. The dog jumped onto the table, skidded, and dived over the deck railing.
Ernie heard the air expelled through his mother’s nostrils. Beth stepped onto the carpet to pick up the bruised potato.
Nanny patted a rooster tail at the top of her head.
Scout barked and the squirrel chattered.
Nanny coughed.
Ernie took a breath.
BLATTT! Nanny farted, leaned forward and brought her hand to her mouth.
Ernie smiled.
Nanny slapped her knee.
The sound of Ernie’s laughter mixed with his grandmother’s.
Beth’s mouth formed a straight line. She reached for her mother’s inhaler and nitro pills. She had to be ready in case Nanny couldn’t breathe when the laughter stopped.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lane stuffed the tie into the pocket of his grey tweed jacket before opening the gate latch. The sun was warm on his back.
A dog barked.
He closed the gate, inhaling the scents of marigolds, nasturtiums and wild flowers.
The retriever’s tail whipped back and forth swatting hapless insects out of the air.
“Hello Riley!” Lane turned his hips left the instant before the dog could poke its snout into his crotch. Fingers dug into the fur behind the retriever’s ear. Riley left a trail of drool across the front of Lane’s grey pants.
He walked into the shade at the back of the house.
“The tomatoes are ready, so I figured we’d have a salad,” Arthur said, holding a bowl full of diced vegetables in his right hand.
Arthur made eye contact with Lane and winked.
Lane nodded in reply. The wink was their signal that Mrs. Smallway, the neighbour, was eavesdropping. He raised his voice. “Garden seems to be enjoying your attention.”
“It’ll be ecstatic when you get a few days off, honey.” Arthur minced his way around the words.
“We’ll have enough vegetables for Mrs. Smallway!” Lane said.
The fence boards creaked.
“Such a lovely woman!” Arthur said.
“We couldn’t ask for a better neighbour!” Lane said.
“Oh shut up!” Mrs. Smallway said.
“We were just talking about you!” Arthur said.
In reply, they heard leaves and branches rubbing against cloth. Then Mrs. Smallway’s screen door closed.
Lane sat down at the table. Arthur set the salad bowl in between a pair of plates.
Lane checked the perimeter of the yard, searching for shadows in the gaps of the fence. He reached out, gripped Arthur’s hand.
“Tough day?” Arthur said.
“Oh, it’s the Swatsky case. He just disappeared.” Lane threw his hands in the air as if releasing a bird, “Poof!”
“Not a trace?” Arthur sat across from him, scooping feta cheese, yellow peppers, green onions and tomatoes onto his plate. Riley grunted resignedly, realizing he’d be ignored during this conversation.
“Not since he left the mother-in-law’s house.”
“Tell me more.” Arthur spread a paper napkin over his lap.
“This afternoon I talked with the mother-in-law, Ernie’s grandmother.”
“The boy who was assaulted?”
“That’s the one.” Lane filled his plate with salad. “Do you want all the details?”
“Like always.” Arthur stood, “Just wait a minute.” He hurried into the house.
Lane looked at Riley who groaned and closed his eyes. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your walk.” The dog’s tail twitched. Lane organized the events in his mind as he stabbed at tomatoes and scooped up the rest. He smiled to himself. People on the force thought he worked alone. None knew the truth. Arthur worked out of their home and was his partner in solving crimes. Arthur’s eye for detail was the perfect match for Lane’s intuitive gifts. Arthur loved to solve mysteries as long as he didn’t have to leave the house.
The screen door closed. Arthur set a bottle of white wine between them.
“Trying to lubricate my memory?”
“Stimulate it.” Arthur smiled and poured.
“Ernie left when I arrived to take the dog for a walk.”
“Convenient.”
“After that, the grandmother started talking,” Lane said.
“Tell me everything.” Arthur poured wine for both.
“Every detail?” Lane took a sip.
“Yes,” Arthur nodded.
“You’re sure?” Lane couldn’t help teasing.
“Absolutely.”
“Pour me more wine.”
Between bites and wine, Lane related every detail, each observation and then, “She told me so much, I think she was trying to make it appear she had nothing to hide,…but…”
“She knew more?”
“And was dying to tell.”
“Secrets aren’t easy for her?” Arthur closed his eyes and appeared to be creating a picture of Leona in his mind.
“No.”
Arthur sat back holding the base of his wine glass atop his belly. “She mentioned Ernie’s Italian grandfather?”