AFTER I’D SPENT a few more minutes with Salnikova, Linnea loaned me her phone so I could get in touch with JT. I gave him the shortest version possible over the phone, but that was still enough to freak him out. He calmed down—somewhat—after I repeatedly assured him that I was fine, but it took all my powers of persuasion to keep him from rushing out of his house and coming to pick me up. Salnikova had already told me that an officer would drive me home and I didn’t want to wait the time it would take JT to get to Surrey before heading back into Vancouver.
“I’ll meet you at your place then,” he finally conceded. “I want to see with my own eyes that you’re okay.”
With a welling of warmth in my chest, I agreed to that arrangement and hung up. I waited for Salnikova to finish speaking with a uniformed officer on the front porch before leaving the house to join her in the chilly night air.
“All set to go home?” the detective asked me.
“Yes,” I said, rubbing my arms to ward off the cold. “Except I wanted to ask you about Jordan. What will happen to him now that you have the real killers in custody?”
“He’ll be released,” Salnikova assured me. “It might take some time to get everything sorted out, but I’m sure he’ll be home before long.”
That was a relief. Yes, Jordan would still have to deal with the aftermath of the murders and he’d have to adjust to his mom’s new relationship, but at least he wouldn’t be behind bars. Plus I knew he was a resilient kid. He’d be all right in time.
After I ducked back inside to thank Linnea for her help, Salnikova led me down the front steps to a police cruiser parked at the curb. She introduced me to a female officer by the name of Jenkins and then left me to join two other detectives across the street.
The presence of the numerous emergency vehicles and the recent arrival of crime scene technicians had drawn a good-sized crowd of curious onlookers, but I had no interest in joining them in their gawking. For a change I simply wanted to leave the professionals to their work and go home.
Officer Jenkins held open the door to her cruiser and I climbed into the vehicle. Although we exchanged a few words at the beginning of our journey into the city, we soon lapsed into silence, my head resting against the back of my seat and my eyes drifting closed. I only opened them again when Officer Jenkins parked the vehicle.
She offered to escort me across the street to my building, but I told her it wasn’t necessary. From inside the vehicle, I could see JT pacing back and forth in front of the entryway. Tears prickled at my eyes but I also smiled. I thanked Officer Jenkins for the ride and climbed out of the cruiser.
JT stopped his pacing when I shut the car door. I checked both ways and darted across the street. An expression of immense relief crossed his face as I approached.
When he opened his arms, I stepped right into them. My neck ached and exhaustion thrummed through my entire body, but in that moment I didn’t care. All that mattered to me right then was the fact that I was alive, safe, and with my best friend.
THE MORNING OF the following Friday found me in my kitchen, carefully placing one cake layer over another, a spreading of chocolate icing between them. Once the top layer was in its proper place, I stepped back to anxiously examine my handiwork. So far, so good. The cake looked fairly even and no large chunks had crumbled away.
I wasn’t much of a baker and usually figured it was best to leave the creation of tasty treats to those much more skilled. But that night I’d be at JT’s house with his family to watch the first episode of Absolute Zero and I wanted to take something to the party. Despite my lack of confidence in the baking department, I’d decided to tackle the chocolate cake JT had requested. I could have picked up a cake from a bakery, but I wanted to put more effort into my offering.
Still, the task was a daunting one for me, even with a recipe and detailed advice provided by Bronwyn, an avid baker. Only time would tell if my decision to take on the challenge was a good one or a terrible one. If the cake turned out to be a complete disaster and tasted terrible, I could always make a quick run to the bakery and pick up a replacement, but I didn’t want to have to do that.
Drawing in a deep breath, I grabbed the bowl of chocolate frosting I’d prepared minutes earlier and began the process of icing the top and sides of the cake. My movements were cautious and a few crumbs came loose from the cake here and there, but I managed to get the entire cake covered without running out of frosting. I turned the cake on its plate, inspecting it from every angle, and was relieved to see that it didn’t look too bad. It was a far cry from a professional job, but not bad for a beginner.
After dipping a cake crumb in the bit of frosting left in the bowl, I tasted it and smiled. It was absolutely delicious. JT would be happy, and knowing that made me happy.
Or happier, to be more precise. The week had already given me plenty of reasons to be cheerful. I’d helped solve two murders, Frances and Bernice were safely behind bars, and Jordan was free. Another plus was that my conversation with Beaufort outside my apartment building had led to further investigation of the doctor and—in the face of increased pressure from the police—one of Beaufort’s friends had admitted to giving him a false alibi.
On top of that, Beaufort’s vehicle was caught on video by a traffic camera only a few blocks away from Major’s residence within minutes of the call I’d placed to Detective Salnikova on the night of the break-in. Beaufort’s credibility had further been damaged when the police discovered that he was in possession of jewelry stolen from the charity benefit and other past events. It seemed the doctor was something of a kleptomaniac.
As it turned out, my latest theory was indeed correct. Archibald Major had become aware of Beaufort’s thefts at the charity benefit and had begun his attempts to get Beaufort to resign from the PGP’s executive committee soon after.
Although Major wasn’t around to see it, his goal had finally been achieved. Since Beaufort had been charged with criminal offenses, he’d resigned from the executive committee, and his medical career was likely in jeopardy as well. As far as I was concerned, Beaufort had brought his current situation upon himself and I was glad the police finally had some evidence to back up my witness statement. More than that, I was relieved that the truth about the theft of Elena’s brooch had come to light and Bronwyn’s name had been cleared. Janine still wasn’t happy with either of us, but Bronwyn’s place in the orchestra was secure, and that was what mattered most.
As for myself, I’d needed painkillers and an ice pack for a couple of days after my run-in with Bernice and her mother, but my injuries had now healed and I was back to playing my violin without any pain or stiffness.
I hadn’t even needed to replace my phone. After convincing JT that I really was fine, I’d found the device right where I’d last seen it—near the bushes by the front of my building. I wasn’t even upset about Elena and the gray boots anymore. While out shopping the other day I’d come across another pair of tall gray boots and had fallen more deeply in love than I had with the other pair. These boots had decorative stitching that the others had lacked, and they provided the perfect final touch to the outfit I was wearing to the party that night. Elena was welcome to the other pair.
Knowing that time was getting on, I carefully set the cake in a box and hooked the strap of my quilted tote bag over my shoulder. I eyed the box and then my violin, wondering how I’d manage to juggle both while walking and riding the bus. In the end, I decided to leave my violin behind and use the spare one I kept at JT’s place while teaching that afternoon.
Locking up my apartment behind me, I set off for JT’s house, excited for the party and the premiere of Absolute Zero. There were a couple of dicey moments on the way there when the cake shifted perilously inside the box, but when I arrived at my destination, the cake was still intact. Relieved, I tucked it safely away in JT’s refrigerator and turned my focus to my students.
The hours seemed to pass slowly that afternoon, but eventually I was done working and the other party guests began to arrive. As JT had requested, the party would be small—just a couple of friends, JT’s parents, and his aunt and cousin.
When I set the cake out on the table along with the munchies and goodies the other guests had brought, JT came up behind me and reached a finger toward the chocolate frosting.
“Hey!” I swatted his hand away. “You have to wait.”
“I’ve been waiting all afternoon,” he said. “Every time I opened the fridge, that thing was tempting me. I say we dig in.”
Finnegan, hovering near the food-laden table with hopeful eyes, gave an enthusiastic bark.
“See? Finn agrees, even though he can’t have any.”
That got another bark out of Finnegan.
“Who wants cake?” JT called out to the other guests, all of whom were gathered down the hall in the living room.
“We haven’t even ordered the pizza yet,” I protested, although not without a hint of a smile.
JT sank the knife through the chocolate frosting. “Cake, then pizza, then more cake. It’s a party, isn’t it?”
My smile grew. I couldn’t argue with that plan.
All the guests converged on the kitchen and soon each person had a plate of cake in hand. Although I wanted everyone to enjoy my chocolate creation, I was most anxious about JT’s reaction.
As everyone set about eating, I kept my eyes on my best friend, watching and waiting. I didn’t have to wait long. After he swallowed his first generous forkful of cake, a grin lit up his face.
“Wow. This is delicious, Dori.”
The others agreed and I happily started in on my own slice.
“You know,” JT said after he’d finished off his cake less than a minute later, “now that I know you can bake, I’ll be bugging you to make me cake all the time.”
“I don’t mind,” I said, a big smile on my face.
And I didn’t. Not at all.