“Wow, that was pretty smart,” Greg said. His face was relaxing a bit. “How did you know where Nadine was, though?”
“Believe it or not, I think the nutty landlady actually helped there. I think she must have heard something the night that Ben went to Nadine's apartment, something
that told her what this was all about. Being obsessed with Julie Andrews movies, she made an association with a film that's got some weird similarities to what happened here.
“Another thing, Nadine's suitcases were packed and taken out after I told Ben I'd been in there and nothing was missing. That was what prevented the police from looking into her disappearance, and it happened right after I talked to Ben. It was almost like I'd given him a suggestion without meaning to.
“I missed the connection at the time because it hadn't occurred to me that Ben might have something to do with Nadine being missing.”
“But
why
?” Greg asked then. “What was his motive?”
“Okay, let me take you through it from the start. First thing, I had this dream about keys and peaches. Specifically, a single key. That's the first thing that clicked into place for me.
“You see, once when I was working with Nadine, she had to turn on the cash register to take a customer's payment. In fact, it was the guy who stares at you, Nadine!” I paused and filled her in on what I'd learned from him.
“Anyway, recently, I made a call from the phone by the cash, and Lisa asked me to pass her the key. Except, instead of the ring full of keys that had been there before, it was just a single key. That made me wonder why she'd taken off the others.
“It also reminded me that Nadine had seemed upset her last night at work. I'd assumed it was related to something in her personal life, and it took a long time before I stopped to think it might be something on the job. And that's where the key came in.”
“I was just curious,” Nadine said softly. “I had no idea.”
“Well, as soon as I started thinking on those lines, it all fell into place. Like, Greg, remember the apartment building and the noisy pipes?”
“Yeah, the ones that make the landlady think the apartment is haunted.”
“Right. They make noise
every morning
when Mr. Elliot has his shower. It reminded me of the noisy pipes at work, only I realized that the pipes at the restaurant seemed to be making a racket at random times. And the more I thought about it, the more I could see that I'd been hearing the noises at all kinds of irregular times â when
no one had any water turned on
.”
“That's weird,” Greg said. He looked really interested.
“And there was another thing. I'd seen a case of citrus air freshener, but when I cleaned out the bathrooms, the fresheners in them were peach.”
“So, that could just mean that they use two different kinds, couldn't it?”
“They use two kinds all right, only the citrus one can never be smelled inside the place. On the
other hand, you can always smell oranges
outside
the staff entrance.”
“I guess I've noticed that without thinking anything of it,” Greg said.
“Neither did I, until it all fell into place.”
I was suddenly exhausted and needed to sit down. The magnitude of everything that had happened over the past few weeks was starting to dawn on me, and the realization of the danger I'd been in the night before was hitting me too.
Greg knelt beside me as I sank into the visitor's chair by Nadine's bed. He stroked my arm gently with his hand. I continued.
“I asked myself,
why
would water be running at odd times? Why would there be air freshener vented to the
outside
? And what might Nadine have seen in the building that would have made it necessary for someone to do something to silence her?”
“And the answer?”
“My guess â a hydroponics operation. An automatic watering system would explain the noises in the pipes when no one had water turned on, and the air freshener vented outside, well, that would cover the smell of the plants.
“I think that they had two businesses going at the same time, using the legitimate one to cover for the illegal one. On top of that, they
could use the restaurant to launder money from the drug operation.
“The big back room that they claimed was going to be done over for private banquets and stuff at some point in time was, I believe, actually being used to grow marijuana.” I turned to Nadine questioningly, since I was pretty sure she'd seen what was in there.
“You're right Shelby, but you want to know something really funny?” Nadine asked with a rueful smile. “I did peek in the back room, just out of curiosity, and I did see a bunch of plants. Only, I didn't even know what they were. Ben caught me and his reaction kind of scared me but I thought he was just mad that I looked in there without permission. I didn't even know what I'd seen.
“Then Ben came to my place right after work that night, just as I was getting a snack. He was acting natural, but I had a feeling that something was wrong.” She shuddered with the memory. “He insisted on coming in, said he had something to give me, but that was just a trick.”
“Did he happen to have a pop with him?” I asked, remembering the spilled cola in her living room.
“Yeah, in fact, I remember how that made it all seem pretty normal, him standing in the hallway holding a bottle of Coke looking as casual as could be, but it was part of his plan,” she said, nodding. “Once he got inside, he spilled some, by âmistake' of course, but when
I brought in some paper towels and leaned forward to clean it up, he grabbed me from behind.
“He had a cloth with something on it that he held up to my face. Whatever it was, it made me pass out, and when I woke up he had me tied and gagged. He was talking, telling me we were going to take a nice drive, only I wouldn't be coming back. I can't remember what else he said but something made it clear I'd walked into the middle of a drug thing.”
“It's weird how you can look right at something and not see it, or recognize what it actually is,” I told her. “I did the same thing, focusing on the wrong suspects and nearly missing what was really going on. I guess a person needs to pay more attention to little things that don't fit, even if you don't understand what they mean right away.”
I smiled then. “It should cheer you to know that one of the things that proved Ben's undoing was that very bottle of pop. If not for that, I'd probably still be thinking of Leo as the main suspect.”
“I wonder why they didn't just grow the marijuana at their house,” Nadine mused aloud. “You'd think there'd be less chance of getting found out that way.”
“Not necessarily,” Greg said. “There'd be the fact that they were using way too much power for a normal household, which is what gets a lot of people caught.”
I guess Nadine and Greg and I probably had a lot more to talk about, but Mom and Dad showed up to get me then. They were way beyond relieved when they saw that I wasn't still all looped and dopey. I was kind of hoping that their relief might take away any urge they had to ground me for the rest of my life.
Still, the thought of not leaving my own home for a while was actually pretty appealing at that moment.
Then I remembered that Betts had been upset over something the last time I talked to her. I hoped I'd at least be allowed to go to see her to find out what the problem had been.
Well
, I thought on the drive home,
whatever it is, at least it won't involve some sort of mystery
.
That just goes to show how wrong I can be.
The fictional world often springs, either directly or indirectly, from the people and events around us. For this reason, I am indebted to those whose lives touch and bless my own.
My husband, Brent, for his endless love, faith, and support.
My children, Anthony and Pamela, for inspiring me daily.
My parents, Bob and Pauline Russell; my brothers, Danny and Andrew; and their respective partners, Gail and Shelley, for their love and encouragement.
The Sherrards, for being my second family in every sense.
My sixth grade teacher, Alf Lower, for planting the seed that grew.
Others who have been especially supportive include: Janet Aube, Karen Donovan, Ray Doucet, Karen Dyer, Angie Garofolo, Donna Guy, John Hambrook, Sandra Henderson, David Jardine, Marsha Skrypuch, Paul Theriault, Bonnie Thompson, and many of my staff at Glenelg.
At The Dundurn Group, I am sincerely grateful to Kirk Howard, Publisher, and the entire Dundurn team. Particular thanks are due to:
Barry Jowett, Editorial Director and true wit. This story is better for his guidance and suggestions.
Andrea Pruss, Assistant Editor, for knowing all the rules
and
for letting me break one once in a while.
Jennifer Scott, the fabulous Director of Design and Production. Her talents amaze me!
Jennifer Easter (Queen Jen) for many behind-the-scenes efforts, and for a special contribution to this story.
Mike Millar, a fine Publicist and a genuinely nice guy.
And, Vice President Beth Bruder, for fussing over the rest of us.