Ghost Writer(84)

I stripped down and threw my thermal-wear and undergarments into a laundry bag and out of the door. They were pretty whiff and my nose was a bit sensitive ever since Minton took me over. Then I winced. All I had with me now were a few undersized towels and my utility belt. Not well thought out, I told myself.

I pulled out my phone and called Gravell.

“Bonjour, Madame Kirby.”

“Bonjour, Chief Gravell.”

“Can I help you?”

“I think I have some clothes in the laundry here. How would I get them?”

“If they're clean, they are probably already in your cabin. Check the drawers. Is that why you called?”

“No.”

I hesitated. Why did I call? Was it just to hear his voice? If it was, I could hardly admit it.

“Is this a bad time to ask a personal question?”

“It is, Madame Kirby.”

“Okay. Well, if anyone asks, this was all about laundry.”

I hung up feeling like an idiot. I started the hot water running and discovered that, last time I was here, I had left my vanilla cleansing gel in the shower. At least I'd be a nice smelling idiot. When I was done, I had to admit to Alex that I had no clothes and asked him to find me some. Fortunately, clean laundry was in the drawers. He passed them through to me hardly trying to peek at all.

A little later we sipped hot cocoa and, to my delight, it was spiked with rum. The amount was a fraction of what Franchot had served me, way back when.

“You, Franchot, and Gravell are good friends, right?”

He nodded.

“How long have you known each other?”

“Luc and I have known each other since we were teens. We were in the Sea Cadets together.”

“You're from Montreal too?”

“West Island, Beaconsfield to be exact. Luc's from Pointe Claire. That practically makes us neighbours.”

“Did you go to the same high school?”

He laughed. “No way! Our schools were rivals. But after we tried beating the shit out of each other a couple of times, we got to be fast friends. Sometimes our lives have gone in different directions, but we remained pretty close.”

“Both in the Navy.”

He nodded.

“Both in INSET?”

He gave me a broad grin. “Cute.”

I shrugged. “Guilty of investigative journalism in the first degree.”

“That's all?”

I smiled and lifted my brows. “Now you're fishing. How about Franchot?”

“We’re partners in the èmil Gagnan.”

“That’s all?”

He laughed. “That’s all I’ll admit to.”

I sipped my cocoa to buy myself enough time to talk myself out of the next gambit. I didn't succeed.

“Gravell told me you'd be a safe person to have a romantic fling with,” I said, carefully casual.

He had just taken a sip of cocoa and now choked on it.

“You okay?” I asked, poised to get up and give him the Heimlich if necessary.

He held a hand up and nodded. A second sip cleared his throat. “He said you should have a fling with me?”

I nodded. “You or Guy Franchot. I said it wasn't likely to happen. I couldn't see you going for it.”

He shook his head, eyes wide with wonder.

“I can't see you going for it, Jen. Campbell maybe, but you don't look at him, let alone me or Guy, the way you look at Luc.”

“How's that?” I asked, blushing.

There was a knock on the door. There was only one person I was expecting, and I must have reacted accordingly.

“Like that,” Alex said, smiling.

I was disappointed. Instead of Gravell, it was Marian Sloan with tea and a message from Captain Campbell. He respectfully requested the company of Mr. Mercuros in his office.

“I can stay with Ms. Kirby.”

Alex hesitated. I reassured him.

“If the captain is back, Gravell will be too. I'll be fine.”

He nodded and started to leave. Then he stopped and bent to give me a light kiss on the cheek. “If Luc wasn’t such a good friend.”

Sloan sighed and leaned against the hatch when it closed behind him. “If it was me, I'd pick him. He's hot.”

“Maybe, but like every man I've met this trip, he's determined I'm meant for someone else.”





Chapter Forty ~ Out of the Frying Pan



Marian and I had tea and played a couple of hands of gin. At this point, I was almost falling over from fatigue. We still had an hour before dinner, so she suggested I lie down for a nap and she'd round up something interesting for me to wear. As long as I locked up behind her, there was no reason I couldn't have a few minutes to myself, right?

As I suspected, I wasn't totally alone in any case. Margolo made an appearance as soon as Marian left to let me know he was still watching out for me.

It had been a hell of a day, with more information than I could begin to digest. Understanding might come with rest. Mostly, I just wanted sleep and understanding could wait a few hours.

I slipped out of my shoes and shorts and between the covers of my bed. Sleep came quickly and with it, a dream.



It is a typical suburban backyard. The back deck takes up half the yard. The other half has a well-manicured lawn, except under the kid's swing set, where it is patchy and brown. A girl is swinging, reaching out with her toes on the upswing, trying to hit a low branch. An older girl is holding a toddler and swinging sedately. Nearby, a couple of boys are digging up the narrow flower bed along the fence line.