Read Online The Corpse with the Emerald Thumb by Cathy Ace - Free Book Online Page B

take a few bottles now, to pop in the fridge? I’m sure you’ll find your way around his place okay. The pool boy comes on Friday and Monday, so he’ll show up tomorrow morning, but you don’t need to be there for him. He has a key and his own code.”
    Oh, my very own pool! The thought gave me pleasure. Even though I can’t swim, I enjoy the way a pool catches and plays with the light, and, if it’s shallow enough, I can always have a little dunk. Then I immediately remembered poor Bud’s plight, and my priorities— no dunking for me!
    â€œThanks, Tony. Maybe I’ll see you later for a bite to eat. We’ll see how my time goes with Al, okay?” My smile was genuine as I was remembering the menu I’d read.
    â€œSure thing. If no one else needs me right now, I’d really like to call Callie. I think I’ve got the full picture. She’ll be devastated by the news, but it’ll be worse if she hears it from someone else.” Tony was trying to get Dorothea, Frank, and Ada to leave, and they took the hint.
    â€œAbsolutely, Tony. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you, I’m sure,” said Frank, as he began to usher his wife toward the door. “Come along, Dorothea, we’ll let this young man get on with his work. We retired folk have nothing better to do with our time than sit about, but he’s got to get ready to feed us all tonight. It would be great if you could join us, Cait. We all eat here most evenings, even if it’s just to see each other and catch up on the gossip.” His expression changed from jovial to embarrassed as he uttered his last words.
    â€œOh, Frank,” remonstrated his wife.
    â€œEveryone knows what I mean,” replied a red-faced Frank. Looking at me he added, “It’s always fun to have the chance to catch up with a fellow Canadian. Did you know our place is called Casa Canuck?” He grinned. “You a hockey fan, Cait? Get to many of those Vancouver Canucks games?”
    â€œNot on my money, and with the prices of the tickets,” I replied, maybe a little too quickly.
    â€œQuite right,” said Ada. “We watch most of the games here, on satellite,” she added. “Sometimes it feels like we live in a very sunny Prince George, almost like we never left home.”
    â€œSo you’re from Prince George?” I attempted to sound politely interested.
    Frank replied, “I had a brewery there, family business. Ada was the local butcher’s daughter. It was a match made in heaven: beer and beef! The kids wanted nothing to do with it, so I sold up. Now I’m spending their inheritance. They didn’t want to put in the work, so they won’t get the profits. Besides, if our son wants to be an eternal kid and our daughter wants to double the world population with that tofu-eating husband of hers, good luck to ’em, but they can do it on their own. I worked my way up from the bottom—my father made sure I did every job there was before he let me have any management responsibility. But kids these days . . .”
    â€œOh come on, Frank. Cait wants to get settled, and she doesn’t need to hear all about how our son and daughter have, apparently, let you down. Not now, and probably not ever.” She patted her husband’s arm, then looked at me. “Our children wanted their own lives, Cait, and that’s that. If you start talking to him about hockey, or anything else remotely Canadian, then you’ll only have yourself to blame if you’re trapped for several hours.” She smiled at me, then at her husband. “Don’t say you weren’t warned. Come on now, Frank, let’s get home and get a few laps in at the pool before we change for appies.” She led her husband out into the blinding daylight.
    As Dorothea trailed behind them, a performer without an audience, Al looked at me and said, “Okay, let’s get you