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good.
I think I ll pass, I informed Tonia. But thanks for the
thought, anyhow.
She grinned again, and I realized suddenly that she had taken
a great deal of pleasure in setting me up for this. I felt confused.
What was going on here?
Well, perhaps you ll come in for coffee and dessert when
you get back from the studio, she said meekly.
Mmmm, I said enigmatically. We ll see.
60
You re sure you won t change your mind? Tonia asked as
I dropped her at the address she gave me a little house across
from the beach on Dallas Road.
Maybe later, I told her. For coffee and dessert. And a
little wringing of Tonia Konig s neck.
She smiled at me, and I realized that wringing was not what
I had in mind for this particular neck. Fortunately, she got out
of the car at that moment and walked toward the house, thus
sparing me the effort of further poetic recitations. Those efforts
were getting tedious, and I have never been noted for my iron
self-control. Besides, something was happening here. Just what
I wasn t sure. I groaned a little as I backed the MG out of the
driveway. Professionalism, Caitlin, I reminded myself. Next
thing you know, you ll be pawing the turf. Right, I agreed again.
Professionalism.
With difficulty, I wrenched my thoughts from Tonia to Val.
That was good for a massive infusion of guilt. Val and Tonia
were lovers; Val was my paying client. What are you thinking
about, you dumb broad, I asked myself irritably. I pointed the
MG toward Beacon Hill Park and drove along by the dark sea,
brooding, my burgeoning concupiscence neatly nipped in its
steamy bud.
61
CHAPTER SEVEN
The television newsroom was a scene of controlled chaos.
It was almost airtime and harried young men and women were
scurrying back and forth to and from the control room with
videotape cassettes and sheaves of paper. Valerie and her co-
anchor a pleasant looking redhead named Guy McLeod sat
in their places at the newsroom set, having their makeup applied
by a willowy young man in a cerise shirt.
Can I help you? a pleasant female voice behind me asked.
I turned around. She looked to be about seventeen,
with a short blonde crewcut on top, and longer hair in back.
Conservative punk. I looked more closely. Nope, the back was
definitely orange. I amended my opinion about conservative.
I m Mimi Angstrom, script assistant, she told me, showing
about a pound of aluminum braces on her teeth. My God, she
looked young.
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Val invited me to watch, I said, fibbing a little. I don t
know where to sit.
Oh, Mimi said in surprise. This is really Val s day to have
guests, isn t it?
My stomach tightened a little. Is it?
Yeah. Know that man over there?
I looked where she was pointing. Off to one side, out of
everyone s way, a prosperous looking, beefy man sat in a canvas
chair well behind the cameras.
No, who is he?
Baxter Buchanan, she said somewhat sarcastically,
apparently emboldened by the fact that I was not a close friend
of the Buchanan family. He of the shiny black Jaguar. Do you
know his license plates say WINNER?
I stored this bit of information away for future use. Does he
drop in like this often?
She nodded. Just to keep Val on her toes, I guess. He s
pretty jealous. She found me a chair, and I sat against the back
wall. Mimi perched on an enormous roll of cable and scowled at
Buchanan.
I decided to see what other bits of information she might
be willing to divulge. Jealousy, I sighed, arching my eyebrows
meaningfully. That kind of thing can be a real drag. Poor Val.
She nodded her head vigorously, glad to have found an ally.
He may be an MLA and all, but he s a real turd, she said, not
bothering to lower her voice. I guessed she had tangled with old
Winner more than once.
Mmm, I agreed. Val deserves better.
You bet she does! That pudgy little creep thinks he owns her.
He only drops in like this to see if he can catch her screwing the
sound man. Or the makeup boy. She looked up to see someone
waving frantically at her. Oops. Gotta go. She launched herself
off the cable.
The always anonymous beast, I said without thinking.
What?
Oh, sorry. That s a line from a poem. The husband has an
overactive imagination and sees potential adulterers everywhere.
But his wife is really innocent there is no adulterer and so the
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always anonymous beast is the husband s jealousy. Sort of like
Baxter and Val.
I like it, she said. Beastly Baxter Buchanan. But you know,
Val s never given him any reason to act the way he does. Even if
she did have the hots for someone else and who could blame
her she d never sneak around like he thinks she does. The
lady has too much class. Listen, I really hafta run. She trotted
across the studio, leaving me to my solitary contemplation of the
uxorious Baxter.
So he was jealous, was he? Well, Val had told me as much.
But whereas his suspicions had previously been groundless, now
things were different. At least I presumed they were. Val and
Tonia hadn t seemed especially warm towards each other when
I had seen them together last night, but they had been lovers at
one time. Or had they? What did the letters really say, anyhow? I
realized I didn t know. How much did Val have to be truly guilty
about? For all I knew, the two of them may have just held hands
and looked soulfully into each other s orbs. If so, that would
have been Val s style, I guessed. Somehow, Tonia didn t seem
the sort to put up with that kind of self-denying nonsense. Well,
that would account for the awkward atmosphere around them. I
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