The Keeping (4 page)

“I saw you getting
out of a pickup this morning. Was that your husband?”

“Yes.” Elise
rolled her eyes and appeared exasperated. “Kane’s so
over-protective right now. He wouldn’t even let me drive in by
myself this morning because of the snow.”

“You mean he’s not
always like that?”

Elise blushed
prettily. “Well, a bit, but it’s getting worse now. I just found
out that I’m pregnant and I swear, he’d have me sitting with my
feet up for the next eight months if I didn’t demand
otherwise.”

Mel grinned
inwardly. She’d been right last night when she had seen Elise
rubbing her stomach. “Eight months? So you really did just find
out. Those home pregnancy tests are getting more and more accurate,
aren’t they?”

“Pregnancy test?”
Elise frowned. “Actually, Kane just scented that...” She stopped
and looked flustered for a moment. “I mean, Kane just...er...”
Someone called her name again, and she appeared relieved to have a
reason to abandon the conversation.

Sipping her water,
Mel pondered what Elise had meant to say. Kane just scented...what?
‘Scented’ was a strange word to use. Dogs scented things, and from
the glimpse she’d had of the man, he was anything but a mutt. For
all that she’d love to pursue the conversation, it obviously made
Elise uncomfortable, so Mel decided to drop it before risking
alienating what was possibly her newest source. Elise’s husband,
while gorgeous, was not her primary concern.

Eventually, Elise
returned with the lasagna Mel had ordered. She looked a bit leery,
as if fearing further questions. Trying to reassure her, Mel
commented idly on the weather and Elise started to relax. Through
the course of the meal, Mel kept the conversation light whenever
the waitress happened to stop by her table offering more water or
breadsticks. By the time she finished the meal, Elise was chatting
easily to her once again. Deciding to make her move, Mel cautiously
introduced the subject that was foremost in her mind.

“Well, I suppose
I’d better hit the streets again and see if anyone is willing to
talk to me about the local artists.”

“Who, in
particular, are you interested in?” Elise asked idly, while writing
up the bill for the meal.

“A local
photographer, named Ryne Taylor. He used to live around here, but
no one seems to know where he went.” If she hadn’t been watching,
Mel probably wouldn’t have noticed the way Elise’s fingers suddenly
gripped the pen tightly. “Do you know anything about him?”

“Ryne...Taylor did
you say? No, I don’t believe I do. Of course, I only moved here in
October.” Elise shrugged and kept her eyes on the bill.

“Oh. That’s too
bad. Well, I’ll just ask around town then.” Mel could sense that
Elise was lying, but having learned from her experience at
Bastian’s, decided not to press the issue, in case she needed the
young woman for something else in the future.

Elise handed her
the bill and turned to leave, but then hesitated. Mel watched as
she chewed on her lip. The server seemed to be gathering her
courage before turning and posing a question in an overly casual
voice. “Why are you asking about this particular photographer? I’ve
never heard of him, so his work can’t be that good.”

“Someone who
bought one of Mr. Taylor’s pictures raved about the quality of his
work, and I thought I’d better check him out.”

“Oh.” Elise
frowned and traced an idle pattern on the table cloth with her
finger. “Um...do you know what the subject of the picture was? If
it was displayed at Bastian’s, I might have noticed it once when I
was shopping in the mall.”

Mel hesitated, but
could see no problem in admitting the truth. “I’ve seen a few of
Taylor’s pictures but not that one in particular. Supposedly,
though, it was a picture of some wolves.”

Elise swallowed
hard and nodded. “Well, I have to get back to work. Maybe I’ll see
you later.” She looked at Mel briefly, worry apparent on her face,
and then left.

“Right. Later.”
Mel raised her hand in a perfunctory salute then narrowed her eyes
as she watched Elise walk briskly away. The girl knew something,
the question was what? What was the mystery surrounding this
photographer and his present whereabouts?

*****

Mel spent the
afternoon at the Smythston library, looking through back issues of
the local paper for any mention of Ryne Taylor. He did have an
exhibit a year ago, but the article didn’t include a picture of the
man, nor any other useful particulars. She rubbed her forehead in
frustration. Obviously, the man was very ordinary or there would
have been some mention of him. But, if he was so ordinary, then why
were the gallery and Elise withholding information about him? It
wasn’t as if her article would harm him. There was no malicious
intent.

And, as far as she
knew, her benefactor, Mr. Greyson, just wanted background on a
favourite artist. Maybe Greyson felt Mr. Taylor was an
up-and-coming talent, and wanted to purchase more of his work as an
investment, before the pictures became too expensive. Whatever the
reason, she was being paid handsomely for the job—a job that wasn’t
progressing very satisfactorily and would leave her with nothing to
report to Mr. Aldrich, if she didn’t get moving. Arching her back,
she pulled out yet another edition of the paper and got back to
work.

Several hours
later, Mel stood on the steps of the library, muttering under her
breath and contemplating her next move. There must be a way to find
Taylor. She had long ago dropped the honorific ‘Mr.’ when thinking
of the man—he was now just plain ‘Taylor’ in her mind. Anyone who
was causing her this much frustration wasn’t deserving of the extra
title.

She shoved her
hands in her pocket and tilted her face to the sky, wishing
inspiration would descend upon her. A few snowflakes were drifting
lazily down and catching on her lashes, causing her to blink
rapidly. If she hadn’t been feeling grumpy about her unproductive
day, Mel might have appreciated the lacy white precipitation. As it
was, she merely brushed the flakes from her face, stomped down the
steps and along the sidewalk, morosely noting how her pant cuffs
were becoming soaked from the slush. She was heading for the post
office now, in the vain hope of finding a lead there.

Possibly, some
mail was still being delivered to Ryne’s old, local address. The
local postmaster would need to redirect it to his new location, so
maybe there was some information to be had from that sector.
Privacy laws would likely prevent her from having access to what
she needed to know, but at this point, anything was worth a
try.

Pushing open the
heavy metal and glass doors, Mel entered the buff coloured building
and glanced around. The ‘lovely’ impersonal atmosphere that
habitually permeated all government offices greeted her. Scuffed
terrazzo flooring, a bedraggled fig tree, and bland paint were the
extent of the decorating in the cavernous space. Post office boxes
lined two walls and several kiosks stood in the middle of the room,
displaying posters and various government brochures. At the far end
of the room, people stood in a trance-like state waiting for their
turn while others huddled around a nearby table, writing addresses
on packages or affixing stamps.

Deciding that
she’d have a greater chance of success if there wasn’t a long line,
Mel pretended to peruse the various posters while keeping an eye on
the number of individuals awaiting service. No one spared her a
glance, everyone seeming to be busy with their own agendas. The
outer door opened, letting in a rush of cold air, causing the
various papers and pamphlets to rustle in the breeze before
settling down again. Mel glanced towards the source of the mini
disturbance and was surprised to see Elise entering with her hunky
husband. They appeared to be having a heated discussion, and some
inner voice told Mel to make herself scarce.

Quickly
positioning herself on the far side of the kiosk, she strained to
hear what the two were saying. Their voices were low, but she
managed to catch most of the conversation.

“I said I’d never
heard of him, but I don’t know if she believed me or not.” Elise
whispered to her husband. Mel frowned. What had Elise said his name
was? Kyle...? Ken...? Kane! That was it.

A male voice
rumbled in reply. “And you say she mentioned the wolf picture?”

“Uh- huh. She said
that someone had told her about it and now she wants to write an
article on him.”

“Damn! I knew that
picture was bad news. I’ve tried to get it back without letting
anyone know why. Hell, I’ve even offered to buy it for an
exorbitantly ridiculous amount, but the agent representing the
buyer claims it’s not for sale at any price. Whoever owns it must
know its significance.”

“Maybe not. We
might be jumping to conclusions. It was a good picture and possibly
someone likes it simply for its artistic value.”

Something growled
and Mel had to resist the urge to peek out from her hiding spot.
Did they have a dog with them?

“Kane! Shh! You
know better than to do that in public.” Elise admonished and Mel
frowned. Apparently the man had been doing the growling. That was a
strange habit.

“Sorry. It’s just
that this is my worst nightmare. Someone discovering— “

Elise interrupted
her husband and Mel nearly started growling herself. Discover what?
Inwardly, she urged Kane to continue, but of course he didn’t.
Elise spoke in soothing tones. “Even if the owner of the photograph
is suspicious, there’s no way they’ll ever discover where the
picture was taken because the land is private. You've never allowed
outsiders into the territory unsupervised. And we’ve covered Ryne’s
tracks carefully. After the debacle of the missing payments for
Ryne’s other work, Bastian’s doesn’t want to be sued, so they’re
bending over backwards to keep us happy. They won’t say anything.
And the rest of the pack has always kept a low profile. No one
really knows much about Ryne, least of all, where he moved to.”

Kane muttered
something indiscernible and the two moved out of hearing range.

Mel inhaled deeply
and tried to quiet her pounding heart. These people knew where Ryne
was and there really was some form of mystery surrounding the man
and his photograph. Not for the first time, she wished she could
have seen the picture in question, but the lawyer who had hired her
said his client didn’t allow casual viewings. She decided it must
be something pretty special to warrant all the money that was being
spent just to find the photographer.

After what seemed
like an interminable amount of time, Mel saw that the line
consisted of only Elise and Kane. Edging closer, she buried her
head in a brochure and eavesdropped some more.

“Good afternoon,
I’d like to mail this to Ryne Taylor in Stump River, Ontario,
Canada. How much will that cost?” Mel hazarded a peek and saw Elise
place a package wrapped in brown paper on the ledge. As the postal
worker weighed the package, the girl smiled up at her husband. “Do
you think Ryne will like the sweater I bought for his
birthday?”

“He’d adore a
potato sack if you sent it to him.” Kane sounded a bit disgruntled
and Elise laughed.

“Kane, I can’t
believe you’re still jealous of him. You must know there’s nothing
between us. I’m having your child and I love you.”

He bent over and
kissed her cheek. “I know and I love you, too. It’s never been a
question of your affections. It’s Ryne’s interest in you that
bothers me.”

“He was just
joking, Kane.”

“Possibly, but
like I always said, once he gets his own mate...”

The conversation
stopped as the postal worker announced the cost of mailing the
parcel. Kane paid for the postage and the package was set to the
side, being too large to fit in a regular mail slot. Mel watched
them leave while tugging at her ear to try and fix her hearing. If
she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Kane had used the word
‘mate.’

Shaking her head
to clear it of the questions floating about in her active
imagination, Mel approached the counter and smiled at the frazzled
woman behind the counter. “Hi! I was wondering if you could help
me...” She paused as her gaze fell upon the package that sat only a
foot away, awaiting mailing. It had Ryne’s address printed neatly
on the front in large block letters. Cha-ching! Jackpot! Okay, now
she just had to distract the woman in order to get a good look at
the label.

“Yes? You were
wondering...?” The worker raised her brows, prompting Mel to
continue.

“Oh, sorry.
Yes...um...I was wondering if...anyone had turned in my car keys. I
dropped them here yesterday.”

“I wasn’t working
yesterday, but I'll just go check out back.” The postal employee
gave her a distracted smile and turned away. Mel leaned forward,
craning her neck in order to see the address on the package
clearly. RR#1, Stump River, Ontario, Canada. Stump River? What kind
of a name was that? And Canada? Good lord! Hearing the postal
worker returning, Mel quickly finished memorizing the address and
was leaning casually against the counter by time the woman
returned.

“Sorry. There were
no keys turned in yesterday. Are you sure you lost them here?”

“Well, it could
have been on the street, but with all this snow...” Mel shrugged.
“That’s okay. I have a spare set.”

The woman eyed her
suspiciously. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, I’m just
passing through. Thanks for your help, though.” Mel started to walk
away in case the woman began asking more questions. She wanted to
get that address written down before she forgot it. Too bad it
wasn’t more specific. A rural route, or RR address, could cover a
lot of territory, but at least now she had some idea of where to
look.