“Pizza,” Megan said. “I'm starved!”
Would wonders never cease?
On the way home Megan curled forward on the seat as if she felt sick. She pressed both hands hard against her flat stomach. “I'm so full!” she moaned. “Why did I go and stuff my face with pizza? I'm as fat as a pig!”
Katie stared at her. “You ate a half slice!”
“And you're scrawny like a stick figure,” Rusty added.
“A lot you kids know,” Megan growled.
Katie turned away. She stared out the window and wondered what her parents were doing right now. Did they even remember today was her birthday?
If she were home, she'd be in the middle of a party.
Laughing with her friends. Opening gifts. Making a wish. Eating chocolate cake. Her eyes stung and her throat ached. She blinked to keep from crying.
Gram and Aunt Margaret chatted louder and more excitedly as they neared the farm. But when Aunt Margaret stopped the car and switched off the engine, they both went quiet and stared at the screen door.
It was Gram who broke the silence. “What shall we make the birthday girls for dinner?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Aunt Margaret said. “How about Brussels sprouts and calf's liver?”
“Hey, yeah, Katie's favorite foods!” Rusty grinned.
Megan mumbled something unintelligible and climbed out of the car. She slammed the door behind her.
“Hurry up!” Rusty half pushed Katie out the door.
“What's the big hurry?” She climbed out slowly, wondering why everyone, except Megan, was acting so cheerful all of a sudden. What was there to be cheerful about? And why had Megan stopped on the top stair? Why didn't she go inside?
Even weirder, Gram and Aunt Margaret lingered at the bottom of the stairs. “You go ahead,” Gram said to Katie.
Rusty followed like a shadow as Katie stepped around Megan, from brilliant, eye-squinting sunlight into the duller light of the screened porch. Gradually she became aware of three people sitting on the wicker chairs, all of them looking at her and smiling. At the same time she heard an angry murmur of voices in the kitchen. She stopped, confused. Who were all these people?
All three rose to their feet at once. GJ was the tall one, farthest away. The other two were women who seemed to resemble Aunt Margaret, but their faces were difficult to see while Katie's eyes adjusted to the light.
“Surprise!” they yelled.
Katie blinked. One of them moved toward her, arms outstretched. “Happy Birthday, Katie,” she cried.
“Mom! How'd you get here? Where's Dad? Is Michael here too?”
Katie's mom hugged her tightly; then she stepped back, smiling. “Okay, one question at a time. Your Aunt Sarah and I flew to Saskatoon this morning, and GJ picked us up. We wanted to surprise you. Of course your dad wanted to come too, but he can't take any time off work right now. He'll phone you tonight for sure. Michael too, they both miss you.” “So why didn't they come too?”
“Well, Katie, plane tickets are so expensive we decided I would come with Aunt Sarah. It's about time we had a family get-together with our big sister and our parents.” She glanced toward the door where Gram and Aunt Margaret had squeezed in, pushing Megan in front of them. Then she turned back. “And with you kids too. It seems, for some unknown reason, Aunt Sarah really wanted to see her son. She misses him, if you can believe it!”
“Hey!” Rusty grinned. “I heard that!”
Megan hung back, looking confused and out of place.
“Howdy, all!” Cliff stepped from the kitchen sporting a wide, white-toothed smile. “Happy Birthday, Katie-girl. Another year and you'll be a teenager, like your cousin.”
He stepped across the porch, slipped a friendly arm around Megan's shoulders and drew her into the gathering. “And a special Happy Birthday to you, Megan,” he said.
Behind Cliff, a girl about Megan's age appeared in the doorway. She had very thick, very straight hair that was cut in short, severe bangs across her forehead. The sides were plastered straight down in front of her ears, making a square frame around her small face. The rest of her hair stuck up like sharp spines on a sea urchin.
The most noticeable thing about her hair, however, was the color. Brilliant purple, a perfect match to her long, cotton sundress. On her feet were purple flip-flops. She had purple toenails and purple fingernails, but her lips were natural pink.
In contrast to Megan, this girl's face looked fresh and clean. No sign of makeup. Her tanned arms were rounded and muscular, nothing like Megan's bone-thin arms.
Frowning, she pushed her way around Cliff to stand in front of Megan. “Happy Birthday, Megs.”
She smiled tentatively.
“Thanks, Em.” Megan slipped away from Cliff's arm, and the two girls hugged briefly.
“This is Megan's best friend,” Aunt Margaret announced. “Emily lives on the farm to the east. She didn't want to miss Megan's birthday, even though they haven't seen too much of each other lately.”
“Wait till you see what I got you.” Emily's voice sounded strained, as if she wanted to be happy and excited but couldn't quite manage it. She glanced behind Megan at Cliff and then back to her friend.
“I can hardly wait.” Megan smiled.
Katie took all of this in and wondered what was going on. Why did Cliff stand there with his arms folded across his chest and glare at Emily as if she were some sort of freak?
Maybe he didn't like the way she looked. Maybe he thought she was a bad influence on Megan.
But Cliff wasn't Megan's father. Was he trying to take the place of Uncle Al?
Dinner turned out to be Katie's absolute all-time favorite. Not calf's liver, but freshly caught salmon her mom had brought in a cooler all the way from Victoria. It was barbequed to perfection by GJ. Along with salmon they had corn on the cob, drizzled with butter, a huge Caesar salad and the most garlicky garlic toast she had ever tasted.
The adults in the family ate and chatted noisily, excited to be together. “When are you going to sell and move out to Victoria, Margaret?” Katie's mom asked. “You live much too far away from the rest of us.”
“I may surprise you one of these days,” Aunt Margaret said. She looked over at Cliff. “In the meantime, Cliff has been an amazing help since Al died. I honestly don't think we could have managed without him.”
Katie stopped listening. She was enjoying her meal too much to be bothered with adult conversation. Butter slid down her chin when she bit into the sweet corn, and she wiped it away with a paper napkin.
Across the table, Megan held her fork in one hand and stared at her plate as if she might throw up any second. To Megan's right, Cliff ate heartily and listened to the adults. On Megan's other side, Emily also ate quickly. She swallowed a bite of corn, wiped her chin and leaned sideways to whisper something to her friend.
Megan nodded, ate one small bite of salmon and glanced at the clock.
During a lull in the conversation Katie's mom turned to Cliff. “Cliff, I really want to thank you on behalf of the entire family. We worry about Margaret struggling to make a go of it out here, so it's good to know she has an assistant she can rely on. You can't imagine how much better that makes us feel.”
Cliff smiled modestly. “Well, thank you for saying so, Ma'am. But really, I consider myself lucky to be working here. I studied agriculture at college and farming is something I've always wanted to do.”
“Do your parents own a farm too?”
“No, but I wish they did so I could take over one day. They sell farm equipment.” He grinned. “And they're most disappointed I took an interest in farming.”While Cliff spoke, Megan calmly put down her fork and pushed her chair back from the table. Without a word she stood and walked out the door to the screened porch. Seconds later the screen door shut with a quiet click. Cliff leaned forward in his chair as if to follow.
“Cliff wants to have his own farm,” Emily said. “And he wants it to be this one, don't you, Cliff?”
Cliff shot her an angry glance. He nodded toward Katie's mom. “I have to admit, it's my dream. I want to run a huge operation with all the latest equipment. I've studied the most up-to-date technology and know I can make a go of it. Farming on the prairies today is a big-scale operation. The day of the family farm is long gone. You need to be big to compete. With the right equipment and the best seed available, I could run a couple of sections like this farm without wasting a penny on hired help.”
He pushed back his chair. “If you folks will kindly excuse me for a few minutes, I've got to run back to my suite. I'm expecting an important e-mail from a cattle buyer, and I want to see if it's here yet.”
He headed for the door at a near run. When he was gone Aunt Margaret laughed nervously. “We seem to be losing people at a great rate,” she said.
“Do you think it's your cooking, Dad?”
GJ laughed. “Don't think so. I didn't even burn the fish this time. You should see how fast people take off when I serve blackened salmon.”
“And he means black.” Rusty made a face. “You should try his barbecued chicken. Oh, wait, on second thought, no, you shouldn't!”
“Hey, Rusty, us guys are supposed to stick together through thick and thin!”
“Through thick and thin maybe,” Rusty said, “but not through burnt chicken.”
Everyone laughed. The phone rang shrill and loud, cutting through the laughter. Katie's eyes flicked to Aunt Margaret, who stiffened at the sound. Her lips still formed a laugh but fear had entered her eyes.
“What is it, Margaret?” Gram asked.
Margaret tried to smile. “Probably just a telemarketer.”Katie pushed herself up from the table and started toward the office. “I'll get it,” she said. “I bet it's my dad.” She hurried, eager to hear her father's voice.
“No!” Aunt Margaret leapt from her chair and caught up to Katie at the office door. She pushed past Katie and grabbed the phone on the third ring. She clutched it against her ear with both hands.
“Yes?” she whispered.
Katie slipped into Aunt Margaret's office and stood quietly listening, aware that behind her the kitchen had gone deathly silent.
“What?” Aunt Margaret's voice exploded into the room. Then, more quietly, “I don't understand.” She leaned over her desk and picked up a pen. Moving some loose papers around, she selected one and pulled it closer. She glanced up, spotted Katie, and turned away as if, by looking away, she could prevent Katie from overhearing.
“GM Canola? Of course not. I've never grown it.” She scribbled something on the sheet of paper. “Who is this?”
Katie moved closer to the desk. She heard the deep rumble of a man's voice.
Aunt Margaret stopped writing. “How would you possibly know?”
The voice replied, and Aunt Margaret cut in. “Look, I don't know where you got your information, but you're dead wrong. I've never planted it and never intend to, so why would you say such a thing?”
The voice rumbled on, and she laughed bitterly.
“If you're trying to blackmail me you're wasting your time because I don't have any money.”
Aunt Margaret slammed the phone down. She remained very still, head bowed, her hand still on the receiver. Then she tossed down the pen, crumpled the paper, and threw it in the wastepaper basket. She took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself and started for the door.
“Something's wrong,” Katie said. “You know it and I know it. Maybe I can help.”
“Oh, Katie. Thank you, but there's nothing you can do.”
“You think I'm just a little kid,” Katie said. “What you don't realize is that I really am a very successful detective. I've already solved three mysteries this summer.”
Aunt Margaret patted Katie's shoulder. “I'm sure you have. But this is not something you should get involved in.” She left the room.
Katie dashed to the wastepaper bucket, grabbed the crumpled paper and smoothed it quickly on the desk. She folded it and slid it into the front pocket of her shorts. Then she followed her aunt to the kitchen.
“What's wrong, Margaret?” GJ asked. “You look horrible.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad.” Aunt Margaret attempted a smile and sank into her chair.
“What your father means,” Gram said, “is that you look frightened. What's happened?”
“It'sâ¦nothing you can help with.”
“Try us,” GJ said.
Whatever Aunt Margaret might have said next was cut off by a man's angry shout outside the screen door. “Get off this property before I run you off!”
Katie ran for the door.
“I only wanted to see Megan on her birthday. Is that a crime?” Another male voice answered from farther away.
Katie stopped at the screen door. Partway along the driveway, Cliff waved his fist in the air. “Get out!” he yelled.
A much younger man, a teenager really, faced Cliff from closer to the road. He was tall and thin with long jean-clad legs. His white T-shirt made his tanned arms look rich brown. His sun-bleached hair was inches long on top but cut short and dark over his ears.
Megan stood between the two. “Leave him alone,” she growled. “We were only talking.”
“If he's not out of here in ten seconds, I'm calling the cops,” Cliff yelled.
“Calm down, Cliff, or you'll have a major heart attack.” Megan turned back to the teenager. “Please go, Scott. I'll talk to you soon.”
“But Megan,” he pleaded, “it's your birthday. I thought you and me and Emâ”
“Forget it,” Cliff broke in. “And get off this property. You're not welcome here.”
“Megan?” Scott looked only at her.
“Please just go. I'm going inside to see Emily.” Megan stalked along the dusty driveway, pushed past Katie without a glance and shouldered through the crowd gathered at the door.