“Rori’s so excited to see you,” said Dr. Pierson as he let me and Nell into his house. “Come on in. You girls want some hot chocolate and popcorn? Maybe some brownies?” His voice receded down the hallway.
I hung back as Nell followed him.
She tossed me a look over her shoulder and mouthed, “What’s up?”
I caught up to her, then pulled her back so there was more distance between us and Dr. Pierson. “The night Rori went missing,” I whispered, “Mrs. Pierson kept going on about how upset Dr. Pierson had been over Serge’s murder.”
“So?”
“So, now Kent’s dead and he’s smiling and offering us drinks?”
“You’d rather us die of thirst?”
“Focus, Nell. I can understand the brave face before, when he had to pretend that he wasn’t that close to Kent but now we know, so why’s he still acting like this?”
“I am focused. On the hot chocolate. They’ve got this amazing milk steamer and they use real chocolate flakes, not the powder stuff.”
“Nell…”
“Don’t worry about the inconsistency with Dr. P. He’s a doctor and a scientist, and he’s like my dad: emotions are buried deep under intellect and arrogance.”
“You’re probably right. I hate it when you’re right,” I said.
“You must live a very unhappy life, then, because I’m always right.”
I punched her shoulder and followed her into the kitchen. “Hey, Rori!”
She looked up from the picture she was colouring. “Hi.”
Wow. I didn’t think six-year-olds could get that depressed. What happened to Dr. Pierson’s ‘she’s so excited to see you?’ “You okay?”
Her eyes flicked to her dad, then she shrugged and nodded.
“The machine’s all set up for the hot chocolate,” said Dr. Pierson. “You girls have fun. I’ll check in on you in a bit.”
“We’re fine, Dr. P,” said Nell.
He smiled. “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.” He tossed a smile in Rori’s direction. “Got to make sure my girl’s doing okay.”
“Wow,” Nell said to Rori. “Has it been like that since you got back?”
Rori gave us a miserable nod. “They watch me all the time.”
“Gross,” said Nell. “Two parents staring down at you.”
“All they do is fight and stare,” Rori whispered. “It’s horrible.”
“I’m sorry.” I sat down beside her. “That sucks.”
“Can I come to your houses?” Rori asked. “I’ll be really good.”
“Oh, honey.” Nell gave her a tight hug. “You’re always really good. I asked but your mom and dad said no.”
“Can you stay here, then?”
“I asked about that too, but they said they’re not ready to have anyone in the house but you guys.”
The crayon slipped from Rori’s hand. She bent her head and Nell held her as she cried.
“Hey, girls, what’s—oh my God! Rori! Honey, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Pierson tossed her purse on the kitchen counter and ran over. She glared at me and Nell. “What did you girls do to her?”
“Us? Nothing—”
“I let you come over because she asked, and I was grateful for your helping us that night.”
“Helping you?” Nell’s tone was incredulous verging on offended. “We didn’t help her,” Nell said in a tight, hard voice. “We saved her.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to invade my house and make my daughter cry!”
If Nell’s eyes went any wider or hotter, they were going to fall out of her head and set the house on fire.
“Mrs. P,” she said, “you know I love you and the doc, but you better check yourself before you wreck yourself. Rori isn’t crying because of us, she’s crying because of you! The two of you are fighting all the time.”
“Don’t you presume to talk about my marriage—” Her voice rose.
“Why not?” asked Nell. “You’re screaming about it all the time. The entire town knows you’re pissing away the finances and he’s having an—!”
“Nell!” I grabbed her arm. “Rori.”
My friend took a sharp breath and her rage vanished at one look at the little girl’s stark, white face.
“Not you too,” Rori whispered. “Everybody’s yelling—” She hiccupped for breath. “Not you too, Nellie.”
“Never, baby.” Nell crouched in front of her and wiped away Rori’s tears. “Never, I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. Promise. Okay?”
Rori nodded and held out her arms.
Nell wrapped her in a hug.
Mrs. Pierson took a deep, cold breath. “I think you girls should go.”
“No, Mrs. P, please don’t make us leave. I’m sorry for losing my temper—”
“I don’t care,” she said, her voice icy. “Your behaviour was inexcusable.”
I bit my tongue and fought the overwhelming urge to point out her actions hadn’t exactly been saintly.
“No, Mommy!”
Mrs. Pierson brought up her hand and dropped it like a guillotine. “Nell, Maggie, thank you but your time is done here. Good night.”
Dr. Pierson came into the kitchen. “I heard yelling. Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine, Paul.” Mrs. Pierson’s tone went from ice to deep-freeze iceberg. “As usual, you’re a day late and a dollar short.”
He gave her a thin-lipped, acerbic smile. “I maybe a day late, darling, but with you, I dare not be a dollar short.”
“Perhaps if you’d been supervising our child—our only child—you would have ensured these…charming examples of teenage citizenship—”
Ouch.
“—didn’t reduce Rori to tears.”
“My daughter’s fine. In fact, there wasn’t any yelling or crying until you came home.” He bared his teeth at her. “Dear.” Dr. Pierson turned to us. “Perhaps you ladies will excuse us while I remind my wife what good manners looks like. I’m sorry for the short visit. Perhaps another time—”
“No,” said Mrs. Pierson. “They’re done visiting.”
“—another time, then.” Dr. Pierson waved his hand toward the hallway. “You know where the door is.”
Man. Five minutes with these people and my stomach was an acid bath. How was Rori surviving this? I gave her a final, long hug, held strong as her tears wet my shoulder, then gently nudged her back to her mom.
A little while later, after Dad had decided I was okay to go back to school, I survived the day by avoiding anyone who looked like they were going to ask me about finding Kent’s body. After school, I headed to the Tin Shack with the gang.
“Kent is haunting the town. That’s why there’s been so much vandalism.” Tammy issued the statement then went back to sipping her pop.
I, meanwhile, tried not to choke on mine. “Sorry?” I set my drink down on the seat that separated me and Nell. We were in the middle row of Tammy’s minivan, scarfing Tin Shack junk food and discussing the weirdness of Kent’s death, the fire, and the vandalism. At least, that was my priority. Anything I could do to steer them away from Serge and the Ouija board was good for me.
“How do you figure?” asked Craig. He sat beside Serge in the last row.
“It’s only logical,” said Tammy.
This from the girl who still thought rainbows had a beginning and end. Still, she was right, and that was weirding me out.
“Serge has been trying to contact the living. Now Kent is dead. It makes sense they’d team up.”
“If we set up a séance, we can confirm that.” Bruce shot me a pointed look from the front passenger seat. “And help both of them cross over.”
“I understand what you’re saying,” I said, “But they weren’t friends in life—”
“Things can change a man, especially death and being trapped in between planes,” said Bruce. “It’s Kent. Trust me.”
“I didn’t know Kent when he was alive,” said Craig, “but from what I’ve heard, he didn’t seem the type to go nuclear. Would he really want to destroy other people’s property?”
“Desperate times,” said Tammy, “call for desperate measures.”
“Hold on. What’s that?” Nell leaned forward and eyed Bruce’s food.
“A hoagie.”
“Why have I not heard of this?” She inched forward and sniffed his sandwich.
I elbowed her in the ribs. “Manners.”
“With him? You’re kidding right?”
“It’s one of the new food items,” said Bruce. “It’s awesome. Pepperoni, Swiss cheese, turkey, roast beef, provolone, Monterrey Jack cheese, salami, bacon, tomato, lettuce—”
“Trade you one of my burgers for half of yours,” said Nell.
“There’s more stuff in the hoagie like mustard, mayo—”
“Great. Less talk, more trade. By the time you’re done listing all the ingredients I’m going to die of hunger.”
“No,” said Bruce. “I mean, there’s a ton of stuff in here. Your burger won’t cut it. Add in your poutine and the yam fries—”
“Half the yam fries—”
“You got a deal.”
“Are you done?” I asked. “Can we get back to the issue at hand?”
“Preach. The choir’s listening.” Nell slid back and started arranging her trade.
“The problem is Serge is trying to move on and Kent’s stuck here,” said Bruce.
Tammy’s eyes widened. “Gee, you don’t think they’ll start fighting, do you?”
“I’d tell them Kent and I have shared a bed,” Serge said. “But I think they’ll misconstrue it.”
Craig hid his laughter behind a cough.
“I still think the deaths are connected,” said Bruce. “There’s no way those guys being killed around the same time is a coincidence.”
“I’ll play this game.” I swallowed some hot chocolate. “But who’d kill Kent? And how does that connect back to Serge?”
“They were both athletes,” Bruce offered.
“Who were two years apart in school.” Nell shrugged at Bruce’s glare. “What? I’m not judging, I’m playing devil’s advocate.”
“More like devil’s right hand,” he muttered. “Okay, what about church. Serge’s dad was the preacher. Was Kent connected to him at all? I mean, the pastor had a thing for—”
“Kent wasn’t a churchgoer,” said Nell.
Bruce scowled and took a savage bite of his hoagie. “Fine. You throw the ideas and I’ll knock ‘em down.”
“I don’t have any ideas,” she said. “Kent was a good guy. There’s no motive to kill him.”
“We’re sure it’s murder,” asked Tammy. “He didn’t just fall?”
I kept quiet. The official medical report wasn’t out yet, and even though I knew Kent died from being bashed on the head and there was a suspicious needle hole in him, I couldn’t tell anyone.
“Of course someone murdered him,” scoffed Bruce. “It’s the same guy who’s trying to kill Maggie.”
I punched him on the arm. “Manners.”
“What? I’m telling you something you don’t know?”
“Something I don’t need reminding of, thanks.”
“Here.” Bruce handed me part of his hoagie. “I’m sorry.”
Nell snatched it from his hand. “Too salty for Mags. I’ll take that bullet.”
“We come back to the same problem,” said Craig. “He was a good guy and there’s no motive to murder him.”
“Uh…I was wondering…did any of you guys ever hear about Kent dating?” I asked oh-so-totally-not-casually.
Bruce shook his head. “That guy didn’t even do birthday parties as a kid.”
“Are you sure? No flirting or…uh…down-low dating?”
Everyone stopped eating and stared at me.
“What’s going on, Johnson?” Nell set down her burger.
“Nothing I was just wondering—”
“You never just wonder.”
“I don’t want to break a confidence—” Oh, stupid move. That just made them lean in.
“Maggie.” Nell’s voice went calm, measured. “We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way—”
I’d seen Nell’s hard way, once. I never wanted to see it again. “Okay, don’t tell anyone but—” I took a breath, hoped Kent and his folks wouldn’t hate me for outing him and said, “—he was gay.”
None of their postures changed.
“And?” Bruce waved his hand. “And then…?”
“And then, nothing. That’s it. He was gay.”
“Oh, geez.” Bruce sat back, disgusted. “I thought it was going to be something good. Who cares if he’s gay?”
“He did,” I said. “He stayed in the closet because he was afraid he’d be judged.”
“That’s so sad.” The fry slipped from Tammy’s hand back into the paper container. “He didn’t have to be afraid to come out.”
“Yeah,” said Bruce. “That’s not a secret worth keeping or killing for. Now, if he’d been a Flames fan—”
“You mean Oilers,” said Tammy.
“Flames—”
“Oilers.”
I raised my hand. “Can we—”
“Maple Leafs?” suggested Tammy.
Bruce went quiet. “Okay, Maple Leafs.”
“Fantastic,” I said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “Now that we’ve accounted for the true motive behind his killing—loving the wrong hockey team—”
“Hey, don’t get snippy.” Nell popped some poutine. “Vancouver went nuts back in twenty-eleven because of hockey.”
“I bet it was some guy from Vancouver that did it,” said Bruce. “Those west coast hippie-Canucks.”
I checked over my shoulder, looking for some support from Craig or Serge.
“Fries?” Craig held out his container to me.
“That’s all you have to say?”
He looked over at Serge, then back to me. “Fries and ketchup?”
“You were one of the guys who bought tickets to the sideshow back in the day, weren’t you?” I took some of his fries.
Craig leaned in. “Enjoy this, Mags. As time goes on and your psychic destiny takes more and more of your focus, these are the things you’ll look back on and wish you could relive.” He sat back. “That’s ten millenniums talking, trust me.”
“I’ll take the hockey theory to Nancy.” I said. “In the meantime, any other theories?”
“The only thing I can think of,” said Craig, “was that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Okay, but he was killed in the forest. How is that the wrong place or wrong time—it’s not like he was off’d by a bear.” Bruce flicked a look at me.
“No.” I held up my hand. “Don’t say it—”
“Unless it was a Boston Bruin.”
We laughed.
“I shouldn’t joke,” said Bruce. “I bet Kent was there meeting somebody. Maybe he was seeing someone on the DL. But Maggie, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and we know it was no bear or NHL’er who tried to take you out.”
I helped myself to some of Nell’s poutine. “What could possibly have—oh!” I slapped the food back down. “I’m such an idiot! I bet I know why he was killed!”