The Gifted (26 page)

“Where’s Riel now?” I said.

“Out on the porch, painting the benches,” Mieka said. “Mum, I don’t know what I’m going to do when he’s finished with the painting. I don’t want to lose him, but I’m not ready to go on as if nothing has happened. I don’t think Riel is either. One good thing: Riel and I are having coffee tomorrow with Mildred Thill.”

“That is a good thing,” I said.

“It is,” Mieka said. “Mum, I’m relieved that Riel’s addiction is out in the open. At least now we can see the problem and deal with it.”

Zack came into the living room, fooling with his iPad. When I told him that Riel had gone to the police and given the full story, Zack exhaled with relief. “That’s promising,” he said.

“And there’s another glimmer of hope on the horizon,” I said. “Mieka and Riel are having coffee tomorrow with that lawyer you recommended. They’re going to talk about Riel’s addiction.”

“Whoa,” Zack said. “That’s more than a glimmer of hope. Mildred gave a talk on addiction at a trial lawyers’ lunch last year, and I was impressed. She had some interesting things to say about the relationship between childhood traumas and addiction.”

“Well, Riel’s childhood was filled with trauma. He saw his mother’s husband murder both his mother and his father.”

“He also grew up feeling marginalized – another marker for addiction.”

“Did Mildred have any suggestions for approaches that really work in conquering addiction?”

“Actually, she did. She quoted this Vancouver doctor. I forget his name, but he talked about the road to recovery requiring what Buddhists call ‘mindfulness.’ I’m usually not into that touchy-feely stuff, but what Mildred said about addicts slowing down and focusing on what’s happening inside themselves made a lot of sense to me.”

“Let’s hope mindfulness works for Riel,” I said. “Let’s hope that for once the universe unfolds as it should.”

“Hoping isn’t enough. We need to be proactive. Let’s go back to bed and fool around. That always gets the universe unfolding in the right direction.”

“Sold,” I said. “Do you realize how long it’s been since we made love?”

“Three days,” he said, “but who’s counting?”

“There’s something I want to try,” I said. “It was number one in a
Cosmo
article called ‘Ten Sex Tricks That Will Drive Your Man Crazy.’ ”

Zack wheeled over, put his arm around my hips, and squeezed. “Let’s get on it.”

Cosmo
’s Sex Trick Number One involved a serious degree of athleticism on my part. When we were finished, Zack looked at me with new respect.

“That deserves champagne and truffles.”

And then the landline rang.

“I guess I’ll have to hold off on the champagne and truffles,” I said, reaching for the phone

Our caller was Gracie Falconer. Taylor hadn’t shown up at school that morning and she wasn’t answering her cell.

Gracie was worried. I promised Gracie I’d call her when I heard from Taylor, and then I broke the connection and told Zack.

I could see the tension in the set of Zack’s jaw. “Let’s not panic,” he said. “Taylor was upset when she left here, she might have decided she just didn’t want to face school.”

“Then where is she?” I said. I picked up the phone and dialled Taylor’s cell. A recorded voice told me the cellular customer was not available. “She’s turned off her phone,” I said. “That’s not like her.”

“No, it isn’t,” Zack said. “Let’s start at the beginning and take it from there. If Taylor hadn’t met Declan at the elevator as usual this morning, he would have been in touch.” Zack checked his watch. “He’ll be in class. I’ll text him and ask him to call.”

Declan responded immediately. Zack took the call and outlined the situation. When he hung up, his face was grave. “Declan dropped Taylor off at the usual spot, outside the main door, and as usual he left to park his car. That was the last he saw of her. He’s going to ask around to see if anyone saw Taylor inside the school.”

“I’ll start texting the girls Taylor is tight with at school.” I took the list of phone numbers off the zonk board and began. When Declan called back, he confirmed what the texts of Taylor’s friends had established. No one at Luther had seen our daughter inside the school that morning.

Zack sighed. “Like it or not, the next call is to Julian.”

“Your turn,” I said.

Zack dialled and waited. “Shit. Straight to voicemail.” He wheeled over to the hall cupboard and got his jacket. “What kind of car does Julian drive?”

“A black
VW
beetle. Do you think they’re together?”

Zack picked up his wallet and car keys. “Probably. Where does Julian live?”

“I don’t know. I’ll call Kaye. Although given our last encounter, I don’t imagine she’ll be very helpful.”

When she heard my voice, Kaye was chilly, so I got straight to business. “Kaye, I need Julian’s home address. Do you have it?”

“I do, but he’s not at home.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he lives in the bungalow next door to me. I bought it when I moved in here after the accident, and I’ve let special students live there rent-free for years.”

“I didn’t know,” I said.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Joanne.”

“Fill me in,” I said.

“No. I know how you feel about Julian,” Kaye said. “I’m not going to share his plans with you.”

“Do his plans include Taylor?” I said. “Because if they do, you should remind Julian that Taylor is fifteen years old. There are laws.”

“Perhaps,” Kaye said. “But young love will find a way.” Then, having scored her blow, Kaye hung up, leaving me sick with anger and fear.

Zack wheeled towards me. “Is she with Julian?”

“Kaye implied that, but she might have been bluffing. Zack, for years I’ve considered Kaye a friend. Certainly, I always felt she was loyal to Sally. Now I don’t know. I think Kaye’s feelings for Julian are blocking out everything else for her.”

“You mean she’s in love with him?” Zack said.

“No,” I said. “If she were, Kaye wouldn’t be encouraging his relationship with Taylor. Kaye truly has been a mentor to her students. She lost her husband and child and then she did something incredibly brave. She embraced other young people. I think she sees what she did to Julian, denying his talent, as a betrayal, and she’s trying to make amends.”

“I don’t get it,” Zack said.

“Neither do I,” I said. “But we don’t have to. We just have to deal with what’s left behind.”

Zack and I drove straight to Kaye’s. The entrance to the bungalow next door had four stairs leading to a deck – not accessible. As I walked up the driveway, I saw Kaye looking through her front window. I forced myself to wave, but she turned away. I knocked, then pounded at Julian’s door, but there was no response. When I got back into our car, I could see Kaye at her window again, watching.

For the rest of the morning, Zack and I drove to places where Taylor would have felt comfortable. Her friends in Old Lakeview were at school, but we checked their homes anyway. We also stopped by the Willy Hodgson Rec Centre where Taylor taught art to at-risk kids, UpSlideDown, April’s Place, and Peter’s vet clinic. No one had seen Taylor but everyone promised to call if she was in touch. I tried Taylor’s cell countless times. It was still turned off. Declan called us every half-hour – “Just checking in,” he said. The worry in his young voice touched my heart.

Fortified by coffee and a box of Timbits, Zack and I decided to try Julian’s house again. When I saw the black
VW
in the driveway, my heart leaped. To my surprise, Julian not only answered the door, he invited me in. The house was immaculate; so were Julian’s manners. He stood aside so I could enter. Taylor’s bubblegum pink toque was on the hall table. “I just made coffee,” he said. “Would you like some?”

“No, thank you,” I said. “Zack’s in the car. As you can imagine we’re both very anxious about Taylor.”

Julian’s green eyes were mesmerizing. “Taylor’s fine. She just needed time to think things through.”

“Is she here?”

“No.”

I pointed to the toque. “But she was here.”

“Taylor phoned me when her friend dropped her off at Luther. She was upset. She didn’t think she could get through the day at school, so I picked her up and we went for coffee and talked. She hadn’t slept well, so I suggested she come back here and have a nap.”

“Julian, if you have hurt Taylor—”

Julian’s voice was soft. “No matter what you believe, Jo, I’m not a monster. Taylor was very upset. I calmed her down, I stayed with her while she slept, I made her lunch, and then I took her where she wanted to go.”

“Where is she now?”

“Someplace safe. She and I had a long talk this morning. You and Zack are treating her like a child, and she’s not a child. She’s a mature artist who needs to be free to make her own decisions.”

“She’s fifteen years old, Julian.”

“Those are just numbers. The fact that she’s fifteen doesn’t bother Taylor and it doesn’t bother me.” His expression was boyishly innocent. The shapeshifter. “You’re looking a little tired, Joanne. I think it might be time for you to leave.”

“I’ll leave if you tell me where my daughter is.”

“If Taylor wants you to know, she’ll tell you. Why don’t you let her make that decision? As she told you last night, she’s made some very good decisions lately.”

I picked up Taylor’s toque and left. As soon as I was outside, I broke into a run, jumped into the car, and slammed the door. “Get me out of here before I do something illegal,” I said.

Zack started the car and we took off. “Julian says Taylor’s fine,” I said. “And we have no choice but to believe him.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “She was at Julian’s house till after lunch, then he took her somewhere else. He wouldn’t tell
me where. He’s in control, and he’s loving every minute. When I reminded him that Taylor is fifteen, Julian told me age is just a number.”

“Bullshit.” Zack groaned. “I don’t suppose there’s much point in trying Taylor’s cell again.”

I shook my head. “Julian made a point of telling me that it’s up to Taylor to decide when to get in touch with us. Or
if
to get in touch with us. He actually said
if
.”

“If? What the hell?” Zack said.

“I know. Apparently, Julian has convinced Taylor that whatever she needs to do to make art is justified.”

“That certainly was Sally’s credo,” Zack said.

“Yes, and every time I think about Sally’s formula for a worthwhile life, I feel sick: ‘Fuck and you’ll make great art.’ ”

Zack’s laugh was derisive. “No guy on the make has ever been handed a greater line than that.”

“And Julian is definitely on the make. He wants our daughter’s body
and
her talent.” I stared out the window, hoping against hope. Zack reached over and patted my hand. “Why don’t you call Debbie Haczkewicz?”

“Taylor’s only been gone half a day,” I said. “And Julian says she’s safe. I can’t see Debbie wanting to get involved with this.”

“It’s worth a try,” Zack said. “Taylor’s a fifteen-year-old girl who’s being pulled apart and doesn’t know where to turn. Debbie’s son, Leo, was older than Taylor when he reached that point, but when he needed help, I was there, and Debbie will remember that. I think she’ll do what she can – nothing major – just maybe have officers who are already on patrol keep their eyes open.”

When we called Debbie, we listed all the places where Taylor would have been comfortable. Debbie took down the information and promised to do what she could. She was kind, but she had the Lauren Treadgold murder investigation
on her plate and a dozen cases that demanded her attention. When I hung up, I felt deflated.

“Zack, I’m tired of this. Let’s just go home. Maybe Taylor is there.”

She wasn’t. It was one of the longest afternoons I could remember. A dense, steady rain had started just as we came back to Halifax Street. The sky was the colour of pewter, and even with the lights on our condo was a shadowy, gloomy place. Zack and I turned on the fireplace, made tea, attempted to busy ourselves, tried not to call Taylor every five minutes, and waited tensely for the phone to ring.

In Regina in November, sunset comes shortly after five o’clock. Neither Zack nor I broached the subject, but I knew we were both waiting for the darkness to gather. Taylor had always been afraid of the dark. Wherever she was, if she was alone, it was possible that she might get in touch.

But it was Declan who came to our door just as dusk was closing in. Taylor had called him. She was in her studio behind our old house on the creek. Julian had agreed to give her the afternoon to think things through, but he was coming at eight to pick her up, and Taylor was more confused than ever.

“Did Taylor ask you to come and get her?” Zack said.

“No,” Declan said. “She just wanted to let us know she was all right.”

Zack looked at his watch. “And Julian’s coming at eight.” He wheeled over to the closet and got his jacket and threw his satchel over the back of his chair. I was right behind him.

Our old house on the creek had lights that were timed to go on at dusk, and when we pulled into the driveway on that rainy evening they seemed like an omen of hope. Zack and I went around back to Taylor’s studio. The lights were on there too. We forced ourselves to knock and wait outside.

There was no heat in the studio, and when Taylor answered the door, she was wearing her coat and boots. I reached into my pocket, took out her toque, and handed it to her. She took it, pulled it on, and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“We’re glad to see you,” Zack said. “We were scared.”

“That’s why I called Declan,” Taylor said. She was standing in front of the north wall of her studio. The wall was floor-to-ceiling glass. The rain was coming down in sheets behind her. Taylor was five-eight, but against the wall of darkness she seemed small and vulnerable. “I knew you’d be worried,” she said. “I knew he’d let you know I was okay.”

“And you knew that we’d come,” I said.

Taylor nodded.

“Thank you for thinking of us,” Zack said.

“I think of you all the time,” Taylor said, and her voice was trembling.