12

 

Tide was low and the moon was high by the time Geoff and I ambled hand-in-hand along the shore. Soft, lapping waves whispered across the gravel. I found a couple of pieces of white sea glass—white reflects moonlight better than colored glass, which looks pebble black at night.

Geoff’s thoughts seemed far away, but I was glad to finally have him to myself.

“Are you still thinking about Josh?”

He glanced at me, as though surprised to find me attached to his hand. “Not really.”

I tried to look encouraging and waited for him to elaborate.

“Not at all, actually.” He stooped to pick up a stone and tossed it into the water. “I can’t get Claude out of my mind.”

I slid my arms around his waist and hugged him tight. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m not so sure. Ever since Danny-Boy Murdock lost control of his hammer and whacked Claude in the head, I’d been telling Claude to be careful. He couldn’t afford another serious head injury.”

“But you yourself said this bump wasn’t serious.”

“Obviously I was wrong. Either I misdiagnosed Claude’s initial injury, which was worse than I thought, and I should have insisted he quit competition immediately. Or that silly tussle with Murdock and the bump Claude got when he fell was worse than I thought, and I should have insisted he go to Emergency and get checked by a specialist.”

“Claude was a big boy. If he refused to follow your expert medical advice there was nothing you could do.”

He rested his cheek against the top of my head. “Then why do I feel so guilty?”

“Because you are a wonderful, loving man who cares about people. And besides, there’s still the question about whether or not Claude took that tumble under his own steam.”

Geoff pulled away. “Don’t.”

“He could have slipped on that loose stair runner. He was unsteady on his feet, sometimes.”

“Which I should have taken into consideration.”

“But it’s also possible someone sneaked into the house after you left and whacked Claude over the head while stealing Carrie’s frogs. Maybe the guy I saw hanging around outside Hunter Hall.”

“Gai, didn’t you learn anything the last time you decided someone had been murdered?”

“After what happened to Doc, we both know we can’t dismiss the possibility of foul play without at least considering it.”

“Yes, we can.” He took me by the shoulders, bent his face level with mine. “I’ve already told you, I won’t have you storming around town upsetting everyone with some wild hypothesis about what happened.”

“Some wild hypothesis?” I choked on the words. How could Geoff show such limited appreciation of how much I’d matured since he’d come into my life? The way he dismissed the wisdom I’d gained since my last murder investigation ignited my indignation.

Fists on hips, nose to nose, we faced each other, unmindful of the shifting tide advancing toward our feet.

“I would never do such a thing!”

“Yes, you would. You like the idea that someone pushed Claude down the stairs. It excites you.”

“How could you think that?”

“I just have to look at you—the way your eyes shine whenever the idea of a crime pops into your head.”

I stepped back a pace. “How do you know what pops into my head?”

“You aren’t that complicated.”

He might have meant that as a positive trait, but I sure didn’t take it that way. My face burned with fury at being dismissed as, as…”Simple minded? Are you saying I’m simple minded?”

His jaw dropped open.

“Because I’ll have you know I am not simple. I am complicated. And multifaceted. And unique. And… complicated.”

“Gai—”

“And I am not some sadistic weirdo who gets off on other peoples’ misery.”

“I didn’t say—”

“And furthermore—” I suddenly noticed the water licking at my ankles, and heart thundering, I leaped up the beach faster than a sand flea on speed. “I was only trying to make you feel better because whatever happened to Claude was not your fault!”

“Gai—”

“But far be it from me, a simple medical receptionist, to suggest I might know better than the mighty doctor whether or not he’s to blame for someone dying on his watch.”

He caught my elbow, but I shook off his hand.

“Go ahead and blame yourself if it makes you feel better.” I marched towards the wharf. “I sure won’t stop you!”

I don’t know what he did after that.

OK. Technically, I do.