I knew the time was right, and Robin needed to share her fears. I waited. Finally she said, “You know, I wanted that red crayon all to myself. You just made me so nervous.”
Good, I thought, I hope it still works.
I signalled to the waitress for two more Coors Light. “Tell me,” I said, “what happened.”
I waited while Robin paused to try and control herself.
“Well, you know I tried to reach you that day,” she said with a shudder. “She, Mitzi, had called Brooke and told her she would never get her big break, because Mitzi was going to splatter terrible things about Brooke all over the papers. Mitzi was furious because Brooke was seeing this Wendtz person.” She shuddered and looked at me. “Brooke would have lost the ‘Walk in the Woods’ account. They would have dropped her.”
I nodded. We didn’t have to talk about the terrible things Mitzi was going to write.
“Brooke called me from Toronto the night before. She told me all about what Mitzi was planning to do. Write an exposé on recreational drug use by certain top models, with Brooke being one of them. Brooke was hysterical. Completely out of control.” She paused to blow her nose in the paper napkin.
“First she wanted me to get an injunction to stop the story.”
“Not good,” I said, “even if you did, a street fighter like Mitzi would get her story out of the injunction. So would a lot of other people who might not pay attention to Mitzi’s write-up in the first place.”
“Exactly what I said to her.”
I should have known.
“Then she wanted me to go and see Mitzi and tell her that we would sue her for libel the minute she published anything detrimental to Brooke. I spoke to Mitzi on the phone first, and she more or less told me that she didn’t give a shit, the pleasure of seeing Brooke get hers would be worth any legal repercussions. I couldn’t believe it.”
I could believe it.
“But she agreed to see me that afternoon.”
“Right,” I said, “she was looking forward to twisting the knife.”
“I imagine,” said Robin.
I looked at her with surprise. Now that she was telling the story, she was calm. I could see the old Robin swimming to the surface again. Calm, articulate, practical.
“I called you to come along because I thought you would be tough enough to support me if I got upset. I wanted to talk to you first and fill you in, but I figured you could just wing it if you had to.”
“I was right behind you.”
“I know that now. But Mitzi told me that I’d better be on time, because she had just fifteen minutes for me. I was flustered. I guess I should have waited for you.”
I shrugged. “She’d still be dead.”
“You’re right.”
But perhaps Robin was thinking that if she had waited for me, we would have either found Mitzi together or left when there was no answer, leaving the nastier bits of dealing with a suspicious police force to someone else. But Robin still would have had her problem.
“And when you found the body?”
She shuddered and pulled back. I grabbed her hand.
“Robin, we have to get through this. I am not the enemy.”
After a long time, she nodded.
“It was horrible.”
I knew. I’d seen Mitzi myself.
“And I thought, I thought…”
I kept a steady pressure on her hand.
“I thought…” Robin was having trouble with her breathing.
The hand I held was shaking.
“You thought,” I said, not letting go of her, “Brooke might have flipped out and killed Mitzi before you could get there to fix things.”
She exhaled. Shuddered.
“And you preferred to have the police badger you and make you miserable, rather than have them find out about the connection between Brooke and Mitzi.”
She nodded.
It was out on the table now, between us. I’d suspected and even known this was the problem. At least now we could discuss it, develop a strategy.
“You were making yourself sick over it.”
“I was sick. I was terrified, my mind just imploded thinking Brooke must have been there. That she might have…”
“You saw her, didn’t you? Leaving just before you went in?”
I thought back to Maria Rodriguez, pointing to Brooke’s photo with such certainty. “Don’t lie to me any more.”
Robin gave up. “I saw her slipping out the stairway exit just as I was heading up to the room. She must have seen Mitzi and panicked. I had to protect her. She’s my sister.”
“Does she know you saw her?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think she should feel obligated to protect you?”
“Please, Camilla. That’s why I couldn’t tell you. I know the way you feel about Brooke. I knew you wouldn’t help her.
Poor Brooke, she…”
“Okay, enough about Brooke,” I said.
The little witch, I thought. She’d hightailed it back to her expensive condo in Toronto and sat there for the better part of a week while her sister held off the police. On the verge of a complete breakdown. Even when she finally sashayed home, she didn’t seem concerned with Robin’s well-being. If ever anybody deserved to lose an account with a major cosmetics company and be pilloried in the press, it was Brooke Findlay. The “Walk in the Woods” witch.
“It would have killed my parents to have Brooke involved in this. They’re so proud of her. They just adore her.”
I knew Robin expected me to understand. But I didn’t. I thought about my own peculiar family and realized that what happened to Robin would never have happened to me. None of us would be expected to sacrifice so much for the others. We would all stand together no matter what. Bitching and complaining, but together. I decided to call Alexa, soon. I didn’t like to think there might be a bit of Brooke in any of my behaviour.
Robin was watching me. “I had no choice.”
“You have choices. You are a useful, productive, compassionate member of our society. Consider when you make your choices the effect your breakdown had on your workplace, your volunteer activities, remember the Food Bank, the Humane Society, your clients. You could have chosen to protect yourself. We’ll get to bottom of this, believe me. And we’ll try to keep Brooke’s name out of the papers, but if it comes down to the crunch, it will be you, not her, I’ll be protecting. That’s my choice, like it or not.”
It was a minute before she nodded.
“And what’s more, one of these days your parents are going to have to wake up and smell the coffee.”
“I’d still like to spare them.”
“Well, I’m going to need to stay in touch with you on all sorts of developments, so you’ll have to let your family know that I’m a welcome visitor at the Findlay’s again, or they’ll get an earful of reality from me.”
“Okay.”
I reached over and gave her a hug, glad to have the old Robin back. She smiled.
“How