“No need to be sarcastic.”
Mombourquette scurried away from his desk and passed me in the doorway. He said, “This reminds me, did I ever mention you really piss me off?”
“You and everyone else. Don’t go thinking you’re special.”
“Good-bye, Camilla.”
“Wait a minute, you said, one of two things. What’s the other?”
But Mombourquette had taken the cheese and skipped the trap.
• • •
The Ottawa River Parkway was clear sailing all the way home. It was quarter to four when I got back to Mrs. P’s. Alvin was in the bathroom. Mrs. Parnell seemed to feel he had improved.
“But I don’t think we should tell him they’ve found no sign of his brother.” Mrs. Parnell kept her voice low.
“He’s going to find out anyway. Better if he hears it from us.”
“I don’t dispute that, Ms. MacPhee. But the point is that young Ferguson is coming out of a disturbed state. If he receives more bad news right now, it could send him back over the edge.”
“But what can we do? We can only guess why he’s in this state, and we don’t know where his brother is. By the way, did my travel agent call back?”
“Indeed she did, Ms. MacPhee. She’s tried everything. Unfortunately, they have not a single flight available into Sydney for the next week.”
“Be serious. Did you play the compassion card?”
“Naturally. And the poor old lady card too. Apparently they book up early for this time of year because of family reunions and people returning for holidays in addition to the booming tourist trade.”
I shuddered, and not just because of the family reunion idea.
Mrs. P. mashed a fresh cigarette into her holder and fixed me with a look. “I know what you are going to say, Ms. MacPhee, and I have beaten you to the draw. I did a detailed check on the travel sites, discounters, the airlines themselves, the works, and there’s not a seat to be had. Not a single seat. Not through Fredericton or Charlottetown or Halifax. Not through Boston. Not one. You will have to accept that.”
“Oh, great. Now we’re in a pickle. He’s in no shape to spend a long trip on a train or a bus. We can’t keep him here. We can hardly grill the family over the phone about what might have led to this state, and Mombourquette warned me against contacting the Sydney cops. We’re more than a thousand miles away, and we can’t do diddly about it.”
I knocked on the bathroom door and told Alvin I’d brought fresh clothing for him. The door opened a crack, and the kitbag was whisked inside.
Mrs. Parnell heaved herself to her feet. “It is time for us to mobilize our forces,” she said.
“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, the answer is no,” I said. “Absolutely not.”
• • •
I figured Mombourquette was in his office. I left a message in his voice mail. “Come on, Leonard. This is serious business. What’s the second thing? Squeak up.”
Of course, I knew in the pit of my stomach what the second thing was. I also knew that most likely the police would be taking a hard look at known and suspected pedophiles in the area.
I heard the bathroom door open. I hung up and turned. Alvin looked a whole lot better. For one thing he’d changed into his clean black jeans, fresh black T-shirt and black leather jacket. He was wearing all his earrings. He moved to the leather sofa and patted Mrs. Parnell’s little calico cat.
I saw no sign of hysteria. So far so good.
“Good to see you looking like your old self, Alvin,” I said.
I glanced over at Mrs. Parnell. She managed to look inscrutable behind a wall of Benson and Hedges exhaust.
“I’m okay now.” Behind the cat’s-eye glasses, his eyes were clear and focused.
Mrs. Parnell lifted one eyebrow. Lester and Pierre shrieked.
“Are you sure?” It was tricky dealing with this new fragile Alvin. Threats, insults, all the conversational conventions that had defined our relationship when Alvin was the world’s worst office assistant were now inappropriate. I had no idea how to communicate.
He said. “I must have been overtired.”
Mrs. Parnell patted his hand. I couldn’t get used to her new role as a handpatter either. It was a world gone mad.
“But you’re feeling better now?”
“I’m fine. And I want to thank both of you for everything.”
My jaw almost hit the ground.
Mrs. Parnell said, “We’d do anything for you.”
There were distinct limits to what I would do for Alvin, but it didn’t seem like the moment to mention that.
“I really appreciate it. But you know I’d better get going now.”
“Right,” I said.
“I’ve got to get home. They need me. Thanks for packing up my things, Camilla. That makes a difference.”
“You won’t be able to get a flight. Everything’s booked.”
Alvin narrowed his slanty eyes at me.
“Trust me,” I said.
“Is this another one of your tricks, Camilla?”
“What do you mean, another one of my tricks? Look, my travel agent struck out. And before you continue on, let me add that Mrs. Parnell has been on the web scouring every travel service possible, and she had no luck either. Apparently everyone who has any tie with Cape Breton has chosen to descend on the island this summer. The week around Canada Day is particularly popular for some reason.”
“What about stand-by?”
Mrs. Parnell glanced at me and shook her head warningly. I took a deep breath. “I have it on good authority the majority of flights are actually overbooked, and even ticketholders are likely to be bumped. Stand-bys are up the creek. If you want to wait until next week, that might be different.”
Alvin stood up. “Next week is too late. I’ll take a bus or something.” He looked a bit wobbly as he headed back to the bathroom.
I said. “Looks like Alvin’s okay.”
“Don’t be fooled, Ms. MacPhee. This bounceback of young Ferguson’s will turn out to be purely temporary.”
“He looks fine to me. It must have been the shock of Jimmy’s disappearance.”
She jammed another B & H into her holder. “It won’t take much to push him into the abyss again.”
“But he’s back to normal.”
“If, as you suggest, the news from home is bad, I fear for him.”
“Look, I’ll go down with him on the bus if we have to. I’ll see he gets some professional help.”
Mrs. Parnell clutched my arm in her vicelike grip. “You must listen to me, Ms. MacPhee. I know boys. Whatever is behind this will turn out to be something almost too dreadful to imagine.”
So what can you say to something like that? “Mrs. P., I think he’s come to grips with whatever it is, no matter how dreadful, and he’s doing the right thing by going home.”
“You don’t send them back to the trenches when they’re in this state. That’s when you lose them forever.”
She sure knew how to raise the stakes.
“Come