CHAPTER 37

Too many questions kept him awake. Why was John Dalton gunned down? What was Jeremy Samson’s role in all of this? Who were the people in the blue truck?

The crawl out of bed the next morning was not a pretty sight. Shaving, he opened a cut on his chin. It didn’t appear deep but he couldn’t stem the flow of blood.

“Here you go,” Cynthia said, once he coaxed himself to the breakfast table. She proffered a plate of bacon and eggs. “Coffee?” she asked, a little too cheerful for his liking.

He noticed four aspirins. They were standing like white Centurions, next to a tall glass of water. He forced them down slowly. His sister had been right. Drinking too much Scotch, especially on an empty stomach, was not beneficial to one’s health.

Cynthia waited for him to finish eating. Then she handed him a Xerox copy of a Loto-Québec subscription for the entire year.

“For me?” he asked.

She nodded.

He stood and gave her a hug. “This is so nice of you. Thanks.” He remained on his feet. “Before I go,” he said, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“I want you to get help for your problem.”

“I can’t afford it. Psychological consultation isn’t covered by the RAMQ.”

Blair knew she was referring to the Régie de l’Assurance Maladie du Québec, the government body that handled the administration of the healthcare program in the Province of Quebec. “Screw the RAMQ,” he said. “I’ll pay for it.”

“You can’t!” His sister was adamant. “You’re already paying for Mom. And you’re not exactly rolling in dough.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“Cyn, let’s not argue. You promised you would seek help.”

“I will. On my own.”

“You can’t afford it on your own.”

“So I’ll wait.”

“That’s just it. You can’t wait. Please, Cynthia.”

Her frown turned into an oblique smile. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “You tell me what’s really going on in your life, why you arrived here in town with your face all beaten up, why someone in a blue truck tried to push us into oblivion yesterday, and I’ll do as you ask.”

He paused, tempted to come clean, but knowing he could not.