When they returned from the zoo, Jo told the kids it was time to concentrate on schoolwork. Stevie was in the first grade and had no homework, so Jo gave him the book she’d brought along for just this occasion, Johnny Tremaine. Luckily, all the reading his parents had done at bedtime was paying off. Stevie loved to read. He took the book and settled onto the sofa without an argument.
Rose was down the hallway, in the kitchen.
“Did Cork call?” Jo asked as soon as she walked in.
“No. Worried?” Rose was washing her hands at the sink.
“He hasn’t returned any of my calls.”
“Try him again.”
Jo looked at the clock. Two-thirty. He should be at the office, but she was hoping maybe he was home, resting. God knew he needed it. And if he was, should she disturb him? She decided to.
The phone rang five times, then voice mail kicked in.
“You’ve reached the O’Connors. We can’t come to the phone right now, but if you’d leave a message, we’ll get back to you as quick as we can.”
It was Cork’s voice. Not him, but the illusion of him. Still, she liked what she heard, his words warm with easy hospitality, a genuine goodness in his tone. Or maybe she only heard it because that’s how she thought of him.
She’d left messages already and didn’t leave another.
“Still no answer?” Rose said. “Maybe you should try his office.”
“They won’t tell me anything.”
“They certainly won’t tell you if you don’t try.”
Jo called the Tamarack County Sheriff’s Department. Bos answered.
“No,” she told Jo. “He’s not in.”
There was something in her voice, a hesitancy, Jo thought.
“What’s wrong, Bos?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Jo. Cork’s been working hard on two investigations, you know. He’s just out a lot.”
“I’ve left him messages asking him to call me. He hasn’t. That’s not like him.”
Bos didn’t reply.
“Is Ed Larson in?”
“He’s out in the field, too.”
“Is anybody there but you?”
“We’re a little shorthanded.”
“Look, Bos, I’ve heard that Lizzie Fineday is a suspect in Edward Jacoby’s murder. Is that true?”
“You know I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation.”
She went hot with anger. “Goddamn it, Bos. What can you tell me?”
“Not much, and you know it.”
It was useless to strike out at Bos, who was just following Cork’s instructions. Jo breathed deeply, let go.
“Will you have him call me?”
“Of course. Just as soon as he can. And, Jo”-Bos sounded like a soothing grandmother now-“if there’s anything you need to know, I’ll make sure you know it right away, okay?”
Rose went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pound of raw hamburger and a package of sausage. She was about to start making a meat loaf for dinner. “So what’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Bos is keeping something back, but I have no idea what.” Jo’s whole body felt stiff, and she rubbed the tense muscles on the back of her neck. “It’s not like Cork not to call. Is he angry, do you think?”
“About what?”
“He knows that Ben and I have a past together. He knows that we were out last night.”
“I think you should give him more credit.”
“I know, but I feel like I’m stumbling around in the dark.”
Stevie wandered in to ask about a word in his book. He saw Rose working at the kitchen counter. “Whatcha making?”
“Meat loaf, for dinner.”
“Meat loaf! Sweet! You make the best meat loaf in the whole entire world.” He ran back down the hallway to share the good news with his sisters.
Rose said, “Can you call someone else-not one of Cork’s people?”
Jo leaned on the counter watching her sister shape the loaf. “I suppose I could call Ben.”
“Why him?”
“He hired someone to consult on the investigation of Eddie’s murder. He gets regular updates.”
“Seems worth a try. You’ll certainly be no worse off.”
Jo tried Jacoby’s cell phone, but got only his voice mail. She called his office and was told he was in meetings all afternoon. She left a message.
“What’s in the canister?” Rose asked.
The children had asked, too, but Jo had put them off. Now she unscrewed the cap, took out the canvas, and showed it to Rose.
“It’s beautiful,” Rose said.
Jo told her the history and that Rae had insisted she accept the gift.
“What are you going to do with it?” Rose asked. “Given your history with Ben Jacoby, I can’t imagine Cork would be thrilled to see that hanging in your home.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking. What if I gave it to Ben?”
“That might be the best thing, if he wanted it.”
“I’ll ask him.”
It was three hours before Ben called back, just as Jo had begun to set the table for dinner. The whole house smelled of savory meat loaf.
“I’m in traffic right now, Jo, and I’d rather talk in person anyway. What if I dropped by your sister’s place?”
His tone sounded a little ominous, and if it was bad news he was going to deliver, she wanted to be somewhere the kids couldn’t hear.
“Or,” he went on, “if you’d rather, we could meet at my house. It’s only about ten minutes from where you are now. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Jo agreed and Ben gave her the address and directions. The house was on Sheridan Road, easy to find. She hung up.
“That didn’t sound good,” Rose said. She was at the stove, checking the potatoes. “What did he say?”
“It’s what he didn’t say, and how he didn’t say it.”
“Until you know the worst, anticipate the best.”
Jo said, “It’s already pretty bad because I have to leave in a few minutes, which means I’m going to miss the best meat loaf in the whole entire world.”