LITMIR.BIZ

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      Dan’s mind was racing again. “The only problem,” he said, “is that almost none of Sebastiano’s family attended the wedding.”

      “Almost?”

      “There was an old aunt,” Dan said. “She hardly looked strong enough to harm anyone, let alone toss someone overboard. But…” Dan mulled this over, “…why would it have to be someone in Sebastiano’s family?”

      “Exactly!” Saylor paused triumphantly. “Did you know the best man was rumoured to be having an affair with the groom?”

      “I’d heard something to that effect,” Dan said, thinking now would be the time to throw Saylor off track. “But I’ve got a better one for you.” He heard Saylor breathing heavily as he waited. “Did you know about the will?”

      “What will?”

      Dan felt the cop being drawn in. “Apparently there was a provision in the grandfather’s will that left money to the first brother who married.”

      Saylor whistled. “Interesting! So where does that leave us?”

      Dan tapped a pencil. He looked at the clock on his phone display. The morning was ticking by and he’d barely made any headway with the files in front of him.

      “Pete, that leaves me stuck in my dingy office and you out enjoying the beauties of Prince Edward County.”

      “Touché.”

      “I better go. I’ll check in with you, brother.”

      He’d barely hung up when the phone rang again. It was Trevor, calling to say in that appealing voice of his that he was in town to catch a plane back to B.C. that evening. Was there even a remote chance Dan would have time for lunch?

      Of course I would, Dan thought. For a guy like that, work could wait.

      An hour later, they sat across from one another upstairs at Spring Rolls, dishes scattered over the table. Trevor was dressed in greens and tans, his wavy hair echoing the shell pattern on his shirt. Dan filled him in on the revelations surrounding Daniella’s death. Trevor was surprised to hear about the pregnancy and was more than a little shocked to learn the length the pair had gone in perpetrating the deception. Daniella’s jealousy had nearly blown it the evening before the wedding, Dan noted, when she’d claimed to have it in her power to stop the ceremony if she chose.

      “Too bad she didn’t — she might still be alive,” Trevor observed.

      Reluctantly, Dan confessed what he’d done after discovering Bill and Thom were having an affair. Trevor listened, his face neutral. Dan searched for judgment in his expression, but found none.

      Finally, Trevor said, “Boy, you play for keeps, don’t you?”

      Dan looked down, his hands splayed across the table. “If I said it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, would that make it any more understandable?”

      “I’m not saying I don’t understand. A lot of guys would probably want to have done what you did, but I doubt many of them would have the balls to go ahead and let the consequences be damned.”

      “I’m just hoping to hell what Thom said about getting himself and Sebastiano tested was true.”

      “I’ve no doubt it was. I know Thom — he doesn’t fool around when it comes to things like that. He’s obsessive, especially with new boyfriends. I know he’d be right there with Sebastiano when the test results came back. He’d want to make sure he was getting a disease-free playground. That’s why he went to the trouble of getting the tests done.”

      Dan fingered his water glass. “That’s what I figured. Still, it was stupid. I took no satisfaction from it.”

      Trevor looked at him slyly. “None?”

      Dan felt himself blushing. “Okay, yeah — it was hot. But now all I can think about is how stupid I was.”

      “Revenge is sweet.” Trevor’s expression turned serious. “I gather my cousin will have other things to worry about if they’re looking at Daniella’s death as a possible murder. I know it’s none of my business, but do they actually think he might have killed her?”

      “No, I don’t think so. Calling it suspicious is still a step away from declaring it foul play. They may think he had a motive to kill her, but that’s different.”

      Trevor looked out the window and down at the traffic doing a soft-shoe shuffle along Yonge Street. “It seems unbelievable we were attending a wedding a few days ago and now it’s a murder investigation.”

      The room was nearly empty. They were among the last diners. Their waiter sat at another table tabulating his receipts. For once he didn’t seem in a hurry to have them leave.

      “I know this is also none of my business … but what are you going to do about Bill?”

      Dan’s eyes darted away then back. “What would you do?”

      “I’d probably make plans to break up with him and then not have the guts to go through with it.” Trevor looked sidelong at Dan. “On the other hand, if I were you, I’d ditch the bastard and accept my offer for a visit to the Left Coast.”

      Dan laughed softly.

      “I’m serious. If you need a place to get away, some place safe to visit. No strings.” He shrugged. “Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you sexy as hell. I’m sorry if that seems to be an inappropriate comment right now, for any number of reasons.”

      “No apology necessary,” Dan said. “And ditto for you.”

      Trevor put a hand on Dan’s wrist and rubbed his thumb against the skin next to his watchband. He sat back. “Time to go, I’m afraid.”

      Outside, traffic crawled through the intersection. Pedestrians brushed impatiently past Dan and Trevor as they stood outside a dollar store with a boarded-up front window and a sign: We Moving! To the north, the Brass Rail, Green Mango, and the Shoe Company vied for signage. A few doors away, another Starbucks, ubiquitous as mosquitoes. Urban life unfurled in one long, unending street named for its promise of eternal youth.

      An Asian man went by with an anxious face. Korean, Dan thought. Or possibly Vietnamese. Probably sent here by his parents after a lifetime of saving to get him to the land of dreams, where he now worked two jobs to send money home and pay them back for the rest of his life for having given him what they would never have. He lingered on the steps of the Brass Rail, torn between duty and the posters of girls with their biologically impossible breasts inviting him in. A ferret-faced man approached and spoke a few soft words, the salesman’s surreptitious pitch. The Asian man’s eyes flickered nervously over at the strip club, then back to the man. Go for the girls, buddy, Dan thought.

      Two doors up, a bleached-blonde dressed in suburban shopping mall jeans two sizes too small lingered in front of a shoe display. She had Tweetie Bird tattooed on her left shoulder, a bruise under her right eye. Whose sad little dolly are you? Dan wondered, mapping the clues that might help him or one of his colleagues decide where to begin looking when the expected phone call didn’t come, the key didn’t turn in the lock.

      Trevor’s voice intruded. “Remember, my offer’s there any time you need it.”

      “What was the name of that island you live on again?”

      “Mayne Island. It’s part of the Southern Gulf chains. Guaranteed to be the most restful place your mind has ever visited.”

      Dan didn’t think he’d heard of it and doubted he would again. A cab pulled up and Trevor stepped in.

      “Let’s keep in touch,” Trevor said.

      “Will do.”

      Dan shut the door with a pang of regret as he watched the cab sail around the corner.

      Fourteen

      Klingsor’s

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