In the Shadow of Death (3 page)

“Oh, I couldn't possibly deprive you.” She made a quick exit.

But Henny worked hard at mastering the office procedures Maggie had set up. The filing was up-to-date, so it was just a matter of keeping on top of it. She even got the hang of typing up Nat and Maggie's case notes. But answering the phone had its problems, as she tried to have a intimate conversation with every caller. However, two days before Maggie planned to leave for her trip, she felt that their new office help was as good as she would ever be. Simple rules had been established: the phone was to be answered as professionally as possible, she wasn't to ask the caller personal questions, she would only type what Nat had actually written and not what she thought he meant, and she would stay out of the boss' office—he didn't want it dusted or even the ashtray emptied. She was the office help and not Maggie's replacement. And finally, she would refrain from giving advice to the clients while they waited. They had already lost one prospective client who decided to follow Henny's advice and solve his problem on his own rather than pay “good money” to see Mr. Southby.

“I'm going upstairs to Jodie's tonight,” Maggie called out to Nat as she tidied up her desk before leaving the office. “She's got a map of the Cariboo that will help me get my bearings.”

“Can I come?”

“Be my guest,” she answered smiling. “I'll see you about seven.”

It was shortly after six-thirty that evening when the phone rang. “Oh damn! That will be Nat to say he's going to be late getting here.”

“Harry here.”

She almost dropped the phone in surprise.

“When do you plan on leaving for your vacation?” he asked.

“Er . . . Friday. Why?” she asked nervously.

“What arrangements have you made about Emily, then?”

“Emily? Well, at this point I'm hoping my neighbour will . . .”

“I'll take her,” he interrupted.

“But . . . ” Maggie hesitated. “Are you sure, Harry? You seemed so against the idea when I spoke to you on the phone And I'm . . . er . . . I'm sure my neighbour would . . . ”

“No, that's all right. I've changed my mind. Can you bring her over tomorrow evening?”

“That's very kind of you, Harry, but . . . ” Maggie was wary, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I think a vacation from that place is a good idea, Margaret,” he answered her curtly. “Where do you plan on going?”

“A dude ranch. It's just outside Williams Lake.”

“Dude ranch! What's it called?”

“I'm not sure, but it's on Wild Rose Lake.”

“Why a dude ranch?” he went on, without waiting for her reply. “But I suppose that's better than working for that man. I'll see you around seven o'clock tomorrow evening, then.”

Now what's he up to?

A short time later, Jodie, Nat and Maggie were poring over a map of central British Columbia. “See,” Jodie explained, pointing to a small dot next to a large lake. “That's Williams Lake. And this,” she added, indicating a road that branched off to the right, “is the road to Horsefly.” She circled the road with a pen.

“What a crazy name.”

“It is, isn't it?” Jodie agreed, and then continued. “But you'll only take that road as far as Wild Rose Lake.” She drew another circle. “It's about nine miles along.”

Maggie put her finger on Vancouver, then moved it up the map to the lake. “Whew!” she exclaimed. “I didn't realize it would be so far.”

“Well over three hundred miles!” Nat commented, looking over her shoulder.

“You're going up by train?” Jodie asked. Maggie nodded. “Well,” Jodie continued, “you know that it only travels north from Vancouver to Prince George on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and south on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.”

“I'm leaving at seven this Friday,” she answered, and then turned to Nat. “Yesterday, when I slipped over to buy my ticket, the station master told me that the line between Vancouver and Squamish was only completed three years ago.”

“And did he tell you that there are still occasional rock slides on that line?” Jodie asked.

Maggie shook her head and laughed. “No. He kept that bit to himself.”

“Don't worry. It's been fairly dry lately, so there shouldn't be any problem. The train gets into Williams around seven in the evening. It takes about twelve hours.” She started to refold the map. “But Kate will be there to meet you.”

“You been up to your sister's?” Nat asked.

Jodie nodded. “Last fall. I must admit it's beautiful, if you're into space, cows and horses. I prefer the city myself.”

“What about your sister?” Nat asked. “How's she coping with the great outdoors?”

Jodie laughed. “Quite well, considering . . . ”

“Considering what?”

“Considering she's twenty-eight and still a bit of an airhead.”

“Airhead?”

“Being the youngest in our family, she was spoiled rotten. Then when she was barely out of high school, she ran off to Montreal and married this low-life loser. Thank God, my father managed to step in and have the marriage annulled.”

“How did Kate feel about that?”

“Relieved. He'd begun to knock her around. Put her right off marriage, for awhile, that is.” She picked up a silver-framed photograph and handed it to Maggie. “This is a recent one of her. You can see she's very pretty.”

The photograph showed a young woman, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing jeans, a red plaid shirt, and western boots. She was holding the reins of a chestnut mare, but she was standing several feet away from it. “She doesn't look twenty-eight,” Maggie commented, handing it back.

“No. And Doug, her new husband, is a good eighteen years older,” Jodie said ruefully. “She's gone from one extreme to another.”

“You don't like this one either?”

“Mmm. There's something about him . . . ” She shrugged. “But I will say this, if you're looking for a peaceful vacation, they can provide it.”

“That's just what I want,” Maggie replied, picking up the map.

Later that evening in the downstairs suite, Nat drew Maggie toward him. “I'm really going to miss you. I just wish I was going with you.”

“I'm going to miss you, too,” she answered, kissing him. “But at least
you've
got Henny.”

• • •

IT WAS EARLY
Thursday evening, and Maggie stood beside her bed and surveyed the pile of clothes that still had to be crammed into her suitcase. She reached down to pick up her slippers and saw one of Emily's toys lying next to them. It squeaked as she picked it up, and she realized with a pang how much she was going to miss the independent, unpredictable creature. She glanced at her watch. Almost six thirty. She'd have to scoot if she was to make it over to Harry's by seven. She had already prepared the cat carrier for the journey, so all she had to do was find the elusive animal, who naturally had disappeared as soon as she saw the carrier emerge from the closet. By the time the chase was over, both Maggie and Emily were completely frazzled, and the cat continued her protest right across town to Maggie's old home on Kerrisdale's Elm Street. If the cat's protests were unnerving, so were the unwanted memories that came back to her while she waited for Harry to answer the doorbell.

She followed him along the familiar hallway and into the dining room, where she set the carrier down and released the frantic animal. Emily immediately ran into the kitchen and sat staring at the cupboard where her food used to be kept.

“You see, Margaret,” Harry said, pulling out a chair at the dining room table for her. “Emily is pleased to be home. Would you like some coffee?”

She was about to refuse when she saw the effort he'd made to welcome her. Her favourite coffee mugs were waiting on a tray. “Thanks. That would be nice.”

“I still don't understand about this dude ranch,” Harry said, putting the coffee pot in front of her. “Couldn't you have found a nice hotel in Victoria, perhaps?”

“I need to get right away somewhere new, Harry.”

He watched her as she looked around the room. “You know, Margaret, you could have all this back. Your home, your garden—all the things you loved. They're all waiting for you.”

As she gazed around, she realized how much of her was in the room. It was still the same, the Wedgewood china she had chosen still in its walnut cabinet, the pictures they had chosen together, the drapes, even the carpet on the dining room floor was the same. Then she looked at Harry and realized that he hadn't changed either. He would still be as demanding. He would still nag at her to give up the job she loved.

“Mother knows how much I want you back,” he continued blithely. “She said she would be willing to forgive and forget.”

“Forgive . . . ?” Her mind went back to the last time she had entertained her mother-in-law, Honoria Spencer, in this very dining room. It had not been a crashing success. Honoria had demanded she get rid of Emily or she would not darken their door again. Maggie had chosen Emily. That thought brought her mind back to the present. “I'm sorry, Harry, what did you say?”

“I said,” he replied, “she is willing to forgive your . . . er . . . unkind words to her.”

“That's nice of her. But she needn't worry, I'm not coming back.” Carefully, she put her mug of coffee down on the table. “This was not a good idea, Harry.” She picked up her purse and tried not to run to the front door. “You still can't understand, can you?”

“No. I don't understand,” he shouted. “I gave you everything you could possibly want.”

“Except the freedom to be myself.”

She was still shaking when she reached the safety of her own front door. She marched into her bedroom and stuffed the final things into her case.
How could I be so stupid? I should have known what would happen. And how the hell do I get Emily back?
“Damn! damn! damn!”

She snapped the suitcase shut.
Well, there's no point in worrying about it now. It's a problem that I'll have to face when I return.

“I forgot to ask,” Nat said the next morning, as he stowed her suitcase into the trunk of his car. “Who's looking after that miserable cat of yours?”

“A friend of the family,” she answered curtly. “We'd better get a move on if I'm to catch that train.”

B
y the time the train had reached the coastal mountains after stopping at the small stations of Squamish, Whistler and Pemberton, Maggie thought that the scenery couldn't possibly get any better. She peered out of the dusty window of the three-coach train, awestruck by the beauty of the mountains, their snow and glacier peaks glinting in the morning sunshine. Then the scene changed to sheer tranquility as the track ran beside Duffy Lake, where the fir forest and mountains were reflected perfectly in the still water. Before reaching Lillooet, the train made a couple of stops to let passengers off. Most of them were met, and she watched as they threw their bags into battered pickup trucks or old cars. Once, the train even stopped to let a passenger off in front of his home. She watched the man throw his bag over the fence before hopping over it himself, then turn and give a cheery wave to the train's engineer, who gave an answering toot of the whistle before continuing down the track. But the area was so remote, the roads that ran beside the tracks so narrow and dusty, that she wondered how people could possibly live in such isolation.

In the small town of Lillooet, there was a half-hour layover, giving her time to stretch her legs and buy a take-out lunch. Feeling refreshed, she settled once again to watch the landscape change to sand dunes and hills that the winds had carved into miniature castles and fortresses. The only greenery in this sparse, desert-like area was stunted fir trees and an abundance of wild sage. When the train emerged from the desert, the track ran through forests and open ranchland and around lakes before a brief stop at Lac la Hache. Maggie, very tired and stiff, was glad that she would soon be in Williams Lake.

Kate Guthrie, as good as her word, was at the station to meet her and soon had Maggie's luggage in her Land Rover. Maggie, used to Jodie's exuberance, found Kate extremely quiet and remote, and several attempts at starting up a conversation fell flat. By the time they reached the turnoff to the ranch, she was beginning to wonder if coming all this way was such a good idea. It was already dusk when they turned onto the private dirt road that led to the Guthries' ranch. Kate turned off the engine in front of a large log house, and Maggie felt the peace of nature reaching out to her as she got out of the car and looked around. In the near distance, she could see barns and outbuildings settled on a gentle, sloping acreage, now enshrouded in a swirling mist. The strangeness of the scene was accentuated by an odd snuffling sound. She turned to find a number of brown and white cows, their heads hanging over a Russell fence, surveying her with interest. “Nice cows,” Maggie said, hastily backing away.

“Steers,” Kate corrected her, “not cows.” She unloaded Maggie's suitcases, and carrying them toward the front door, opened it to be immediately greeted by two huge golden Labs. After slobbering all over Kate, they turned their attention to Maggie, who found to her dismay that she was being pushed back toward the fenced-in steers. “Down! Down!” Kate ordered. Giving Maggie a final lick, they reluctantly followed Kate inside.

“I'll show you to your room. Supper will be ready in twenty minutes.” And still carrying Maggie's luggage, Kate started to lead the way up the wide staircase.

“I can manage those,” Maggie said, reaching for the cases. “Perhaps your husband . . . ”

“My husband is out of town,” the girl answered shortly.

“Then let's take one each,” Maggie said, firmly taking the largest out of Kate's hands.