Page 7 of Backwater Justice

“What do you mean?”

“A girl goes missing, Mill offers a reward, the girl is never found, and Mill has a heart attack.” She fidgeted with her pearls. “I know it’s only been a couple of weeks since she disappeared, but there is something about this that doesn’t sit right.”

“You think there is some kind of connection?”

She looked up at Charles. “Just a feeling.”

Charles slapped both his knees as he pushed himself away from the table. “When do we leave?”

Myra smiled. “Let me call Annie and see what she’s up to.”

“Splendid idea.” Charles checked his chicken. “Say, you wouldn’t want Fergus and me to join you, would you?”

“Let me think on that. Maybe you and I should go, and then I can fill Annie in after I’ve seen Mill.”

Charles looked up from the beautifully browned chicken. “Or perhaps you and Annie go and report back to me and Fergus. If there’s anything dodgy going on, we have everything we need here.”

Myra got up from her chair and picked up the yellow phone. She actually enjoyed using the old-fashioned dial. It reminded her of a time when things were much less complicated.

Annie picked up on the first ring. “Good evening!” she said in her usual chipper voice. “What’s cooking?”

“Coq au vin,” Myra answered wryly, knowing Annie wanted to hear what was going on.

“Stop.” Annie laughed. “Tell me. Tell me.”

“You remember my friend Mill from Oregon?”

“Of course! Lovely lumberman. Why? What’s up?”

“His wife called me. He’s in the hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh, that can’t be good.” Annie’s tone softened.

“She said he’s in stable condition.”

“Okay. That sounds better.”

“But she said he asked for me.” Myra narrowed her eyes; the wheels in her head were turning.

“Is that a bad thing?” Annie wasn’t quite tracking what was on Myra’s mind. She gulped.

“Not at face value, but why ask for me?”

“Maybe he has something he wants to share, just in case. You know. Just in case.” Annie emphasized the words without going all the way. Annie anticipated the next part of the conversation. “When do you want to leave?”

Myra chuckled. “The sooner the better, I suppose.”

“Tomorrow? Early afternoon? It’s over a seven-hour flight, but with the time zone difference, we could be there by six if we leave here at one o’clock.”

“I can be ready in an hour.” Myra chuckled. She and Annie kept “go-bags” handy. There was one for every season. All they had to do was pull the bag out of the closet. “But I think I should spend the evening with Charles. He just pulled out a casserole dish of coq au vin.”

“Does he know about, you-know-what?”

“No, but I think that’s a good idea.” Myra signaled that it was not a good time to discuss events from her past, especially her romantic past. Years ago, when Milton had flown across the country to attend her daughter Barbara’s funeral, she’d been in too much shock to veer off to any other subject except the loss of her daughter. Then Myra fell into a deep depression. By the time she recovered, the thought of discussing the past never occurred to her. Why bring up something from years ago?

“Are you sure you want to do that tonight?” Annie asked.

“Possibly.” Myra saw Milton at random events every few years. They remained good friends without discussing what had once been between them, knowing they both had busy lives to handle on opposite ends of the country. “But maybe not. I’ll decide after dinner.” She looked over at Charles as he turned the carrots that were roasting in the pan. “I’ll call you later.”

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