Death on a Short Leash (5 page)

“That and anything else she might have been worried about.”

He was thoughtful for a few moments. “She mentioned a few times what a jerk her boss was, but,” he shrugged, “who doesn't moan about one's boss—or teacher, for that matter.”

“Did she tell you that she was going to Abbotsford?”

“Yes. She wanted me to go with her, but my brother's wedding was the same weekend.”

“Do you know where she was going in Abbotsford?”

The young man shook his head. “She said something about checking out some kennels where her boss got some of his puppies. Maybe he would know?”

“Can you remember the name?”

Hans shook his head. “Something about a light? It sort of went in one ear and out the other. You can imagine how chaotic our house has been with the wedding.”

“Was it Ring of Light?” Maggie asked.

“No, it wasn't ring,” Hans said. “Maybe a path to light or something like that.” He gave Maggie a crooked smile. “I don't seem to be much help, do I?”

“Don't worry about it. You've given us something to work on, but I wonder if you could give me a list of her friends.”

“She mentioned a Sandra somebody, and there's Laura who lives in the same building.”

“I take it you've been to her apartment?” The question seemed to take him by surprise.

“No, no. We always met at the bus station in town. There isn't anywhere to go in Richmond.”

“The bus station? She doesn't own a car, then?”

“Not on her salary from the pet hospital. It was only a nine-to-three job, you know.”

“Did she ever mention having a second job?”

“Second job?” He shook his head. “No. I think she'd have told me if she had one. Why?”

Maggie decided to leave it at that for the moment. “Just wondered. Going back to Abbotsford—how was she going to get there?”

Hans shrugged. “Maybe the bus?”

Maggie stood up. “Thanks for coming in. Give me a call if you hear from her. Her mother is very worried.”

After Maggie had seen Hans Van Dyke out, she walked into Nat's office and brought him up-to-date on the interview. “How can we find out about those kennels?” she asked.

“I don't want to ask the good doctor at this stage,” he answered thoughtfully. “I think it's time to call George.” George Sawasky was Nat's friend and his former partner during his Vancouver police force days.

“What do you want this time, you old scrounger?” George asked when Nat had tracked him down.

“Nothing much. Just an enquiry about a client's missing daughter.”

“Not another one! Haven't you anything better to do than to look after missing girls?”

Nat laughed. He knew George was referring to an earlier case involving a number of missing pregnant teenagers. “No. This time it's a friend of Henny's. This girl works for a vet over in Richmond. Could you have a look in Missing Persons?”

George gave a big sigh. “You'll have my neck one of these days.

Can't promise anything, but give me her description and I'll get back to you. Have to be after the weekend, though.”

“There's one other thing . . .”

“What?” George asked suspiciously.

“Can you find out about some dog kennels in Abbotsford? We're not sure of the name, but it could be Ring of Light or Path of Light.”

“That's a weird name for a kennel.” George gave a sigh. “Have you tried looking them up in the telephone directory?”

“Yeah. But it doesn't cover Abbotsford.”

“Leave it with me. I'll see what I can come up with and get back to you Monday. Say hi to Maggie and Henny for me.”

“We've got to cover all the angles,” Nat said as he replaced the phone. “Don't want to jump to conclusions just because we've found out she's a stripper.”

• • •

“
WHAT ARE YOU
doing Saturday?” Nat asked as they locked up the office for the day. “Want to go and see that new Hitchcock movie?”

“
Psycho
? Midge tells me it's one of the scariest movies she's ever seen.”

“Yeah! Want to go and be scared?”

“Why not?” Maggie answered with a grin. “But remember you can't stay over. My family's coming on Sunday to inspect the place.”

S
unday morning Maggie awoke to brilliant sunshine and Nat still asleep beside her. “Okay! Up,” she said, prodding him.

“It's Sunday,” Nat groaned. “I always sleep in on Sunday.”

“Not this Sunday, you don't,” she replied, giving him an extra push. “I warned you last night that my family's coming for lunch today and I've things to do.”

“I could stay for lunch, too . . .” He paused for a moment. “On the other hand, I don't think I could face your Barbara's cold disapproval across the dining room table.” He gave a martyred sigh. “I'll cook breakfast.”

As soon as he left, Maggie scooted up the stairs to tidy the bedroom, have a quick shower and dress. Luckily, she had prepared most of the food the day before, so there was little to do before her visitors arrived. Emily, sitting contentedly in the open doorway, stretched in the warmth of the sun and kept an eye on Maggie as she put the finishing touches to the salad.

Maggie's youngest daughter, Midge, arrived first, and after inspecting the house from top to bottom and giving full approval, turned and put her arms around her mother. “This dear little house was just meant for you.”

“That's what I felt the very first time I saw it,” Maggie replied.

“By the way, where's Jason?”

“He's not coming.”

“Why not? Lover's tiff?”

“We're cooling it for awhile.”

“I really thought you two were serious about each other.”

“That's the trouble. He wants to be. I'm just not ready.” Midge turned away from her mother. “There's so much I want to do. I can't bear the thought of becoming like Barbara.” She walked over to peer out of the window that overlooked the street. “And talking of my dear sister, here she is now.”

Maggie opened the front door and ran down the path to take her only grandson into her arms. “Oh! He's grown so,” she said, snuggling the little boy close. Walking back to the house, carrying Oliver, she couldn't help but compare her two girls. Barbara was the image of her father, even to the very fair skin, though where his hair was sandy, Barbara's was ash blonde. Midge, on the other hand, had Maggie's creamy complexion and thick, curly brown hair. Even their personalities were so very different. Barbara's life was how she wanted it. Orderly. A banker husband on the way up, a house in the Point Grey area, a late-model Buick and the first of the two intended children. Maggie knew that the only thorn in Barbara's comfortable life was her dreadful mother, who had left her husband, a beautiful house in Kerrisdale and exactly the kind of life that Barbara and Charles were making for themselves. And to top it all, her mother was actually working in a seedy detective's office, a fact that Maggie knew was carefully kept from Charles and Barbara's friends and acquaintances.

Midge, a nurse at the Royal Columbia hospital, loved her job, her friends and her way of life. Although sorry about her parents' breakup, she had the ability to see both sides and knew her mother had become a much happier person since making a life of her own.

“Daddy said to tell you that he'll be around later this afternoon.” Barbara stopped to look up and down the front of the house. “So this is what you've bought? It's very small, isn't it?”

“Your father's coming here?” Maggie asked in surprise. “What for?”

“He didn't say. Something about a letter.”

“Letter?” She turned to her son-in-law, who was bringing up the rear, loaded down with bags. “Hello, Charles. How's life treating you?”

“Busy,” he answered, bending down to give her a kiss. Charles actually admired his mother-in-law and secretly wished his wife had a bit of her spunk. “I think your house is cute,” he whispered in her ear.

“Lunch is ready,” Maggie said, leading the way inside. “Or do you want to look over the house first?”

“It's so small,” Barbara commented after her inspection. “How can you possibly live in a place like this after your lovely house in Kerrisdale?”

“It's perfect for me, Barbara. Now, lunch is ready and I've even got a high chair for Oliver.”

“Where's Jason?” Barbara asked, passing the basket of rolls to her sister.

“Had to work,” Midge answered, giving Maggie a warning look.

“When are you two setting the date?” Barbara persisted.

“No idea,” Midge said, as she spooned food into her nephew's open mouth.

“You're good with babies,” Barbara admitted as she watched her sister. “Wouldn't wait too long before you have a family, if I were you.”

“Loads of time,” Midge answered. “Now what have you two been up to?”

Barbara proceeded to tell them for the rest of the afternoon.

They had left and Maggie had just finished washing and drying the last of the dishes and was ready to put her feet up when the doorbell rang.

“Hello, Margaret,” Harry said. “May I come in?”

“Harry. I'm sorry. I completely forgot that Barbara said you would be coming.” She led the way in. “She said something about a letter.”

Harry opened his briefcase and drew out a large manila envelope. “Yes, this,” he replied. “It's from a lawyer in Montreal.”

“Montreal?”

“Your Aunt Jessie Gauthier has died.” Harry said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Oh, no!” Maggie cried, taking the envelope from Harry's hand. “I wondered why she didn't answer my last letter . . .” Then she looked down at the envelope. “Harry, you've already opened it,” she said angrily. “I've told you before about opening my mail!”

“I can't see why you're making such a fuss about it. After all, I thought it might be bad news. But you'll see, it's just the opposite.”

“How could it be good news about my Aunt Jessie dying . . . ?” Her voice trailed off as she began to read the astonishing letter. “My God!” she said, thumping down onto a nearby chair. “She's left me twenty thousand dollars and her house in Quebec.”

“Yes, a place called St. Eustache sur le Lac,” he said pompously, giving the words their correct French pronunciation. “It means the village or whatever beside a lake.” He walked over to the chair where Emily sat and picked her up, and the traitorous cat immediately began to snuggle up close to him and purr. He sat down, absent-mindedly stroking her soft fur. “I never met your aunt.”

“She's the black sheep of the family.”

“Black sheep?”

“She eloped.”

“You mean ran off to marry some scoundrel?”

Maggie shook her head, amused that he would immediately jump to the worst conclusion. “She was my father's youngest sister and was to be married to a young solicitor working in his office. He was called up when the 1914 war started and was killed within a month of arriving in France.”

“But you said she eloped.”

“She did. She was so desolate after his death that she decided to take up nursing the wounded at a hospital near Maidstone in Kent. There she met this handsome French-Canadian officer, they fell in love and eloped.”

“My God!” Harry replied. “I can understand the family being upset. How old was she?”

“Mid-twenties, I think. Old enough to make her own decisions. Anyway, there was nothing the family could do about it.” Maggie gave an impish grin. “I think it was all rather romantic.”

“You would,” Harry answered. “But why leave you money?” “I guess because she didn't have any offspring, and Jean Paul, Aunt Jessie's husband, died a few years back.” She paused. “My mother kept in touch with her through the years, and after Mother died, I took over the correspondence with her.” And Margaret laughed, remembering. “She said we were kindred spirits.”

“Both foolhardy,” Harry said tersely. “I see that she also left some money to the nursing home she was in.”

“She wrote me that she was very happy there,” Maggie said thoughtfully, “but I'm sorry I didn't realize she was so ill.” She looked back at the letter. “I see that she wants me to take care of her little dog, Oscar. She mentioned him several times in her letters.” She looked thoughtfully at the letter. “I wonder how I go about getting him?”

“The dog? Don't be ridiculous, Margaret,” Harry exploded. “Anyway, this lawyer —M. Benoit—told me that a neighbour is looking after it at the moment. Does it have a pedigree?”

“I don't think so. I think my aunt said it was part spaniel.”

“In that case,” Harry replied, “I suggest that if the neighbour can't keep it, we authorize the lawyer to have it put down.” The disdainful look she shot him should have made him cringe, but he just carried on. “But that's a minor issue. To get back to the money—when I saw what a substantial sum was involved, I brought along some papers for you to sign.”

“Papers?”

“Giving me permission to invest the money wisely for you.” He paused. “I can arrange with a colleague I know in Montreal to dispose of the property.”

Maggie carefully refolded the paper and slipped it back into the envelope. “No thanks,” she replied sweetly. “I've already made great plans for the money and the property.”

“But Margaret, you couldn't do better than to let me invest in West . . .”

“This,” Maggie said, tapping the envelope on her palm, “is enough for me to pay off the mortgage on this house.”

“Mortgage! For God's sake, Margaret, you don't need this place anymore. You left me to be independent and now that you've come into this money, you will be. You certainly won't need to work for that . . . that man anymore.” Maggie watched his little ginger moustache quiver with indignation. “This is a golden opportunity,” he added.