Read Online Kaleidoscope by Gail Bowen - Free Book Online

busy you must be.”
    We only knew one “Deb” – Inspector Debbie Haczkewicz – and she was an inspector with the Major Crimes Unit of the Regina Police Force. My stomach clenched.Zack hung up and turned to face me. “You did hear me say that no one was hurt?”
    “What happened?
    He held out his arms. “Come here.”
    Suddenly, I was very cold, but Zack’s arms were warm. “There’s no way to break this to you gently, Jo. About an hour ago, some kind of explosive was detonated in our garage. My car was in there, and I’d filled the tank on my way to court yesterday, so the fire department’s still trying to deal with the fire.”
    “Oh my God. How bad is it?”
    He shook his head. “I guess we’ll see how bad when we get back to the city.”
    “I’d better call Mieka and the boys – let them know we’re here and safe.”
    When I hung up after delivering the message to each of our three grown children, I turned to Zack. “How did I sound?”
    “Cool. Reassuring. Matter-of-fact.” He held out his arms again. “Now, feel free to go crazy.”
    I’d started to shake. “We could have been in that house,” I said. “If you hadn’t suggested coming to the lake a day early, the three of us would have been asleep, and we would have died.”
    “But we weren’t in that house,” Zack said. He drew me close. “We’re at the lake, and we’re alive. So let’s take it from there.”
    I burrowed in. “I just can’t understand why …” I said.
    Zack roughened his voice into that of a tough guy. “Why … of all the gin joints in the world someone decided to blow up ours?”
    In spite of everything I laughed. “I didn’t know you did a Bogart imitation,” I said.
    “Neither did I,” Zack said. “Today just seemed as good a time as any to give it a whirl.”

CHAPTER
4
    It was clear that neither of us were going to get any more sleep that morning, so I went to the bathroom, splashed my face, brushed my teeth, and put on my running clothes. Routine had saved me many times, and I was hoping the familiar pattern of a run before breakfast would calm my nerves and clear my mind. When I went into the kitchen, Zack already had the coffee on; bacon was in a pan ready to be put in the oven; and the eggs, bowl, and whisk were on the counter. Zack’s ability to compartmentalize always dazzled me. Clearly he’d decided that if we were going to have a lousy morning we should at least have a great breakfast. I kissed him and made an effort to match his sangfroid. “We have some chives growing in that sunny patch by the front door. Want me to snip some for the eggs when I come back from my run?”
    “Chives will be nice,” he said. “But I am adding an ingredient that will make this dish brilliant.”
    I picked up a package of boursin au poivre and checked the date. “You do realize that the ‘best before date’ on this cheese is tomorrow.”
    He cocked his head. “That’s why we’re using it today. I’m being thrifty. I lost big-time at poker Wednesday night.” I didn’t ask for elaboration. The day was already off to a sketchy start.
    When the dogs and I got back from our run, everything was ready. Breakfast was Zack’s specialty: the bacon was crisp, the boursin gave the eggs a savoury bite, the rye toast was buttery, and the coffee strong and good. As we sat at the ancient partners’ table that we used for all our meals at the lake, it seemed that God was in Her heaven and all would eventually be right with the world.
    Our dining room had floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides. To the north we looked out on a copse of lilac bushes, to the west on the broad sunlit lawn that sloped to the lake, to the south on the blooming perennial beds that the landscaper had put in fifteen years ago when Zack bought the property. Beauty everywhere.
    We didn’t talk about Debbie’s phone call until after we’d finished eating. Then Zack moved his wheelchair back from the table, balanced his plate and