Page 54 of The Burnt
“That will be just fine.”
Charlie made his way into the house and removed his coat. TheRocky Mountain Leisuremagazine was right—The Paddock was magnificent.
Charlie’s thoughts were interrupted when Jasmine said, “I hope that old car of yours has a good heater.”
“That car has a better heater than my apartment.”
She looked out of the window at The Beast. “I love to see a beautiful car like that. So many of the ones you see around these days all look the same. They have no style. Not like yours. Now, come with me into the kitchen. Do you prefer tea or coffee?”
“I love both. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Charlie sat in the sunlit room, admiring the panoramic view of the mountains through the bay window as the woman prepared a pot of tea.
“Sorry, I haven’t properly introduced myself—I’m Jasmine Robertson, but you can call me Jasmine.”
“And you can call me Charlie. I never was a Charles. My family has a tradition of always going straight for the nickname.”
“Just cut to the chase. I like that.”
She set a plate of Nanaimo bars on the table. “Help yourself. I’ll bet a young man like yourself loves sweets, and I bet you never put on a pound. Trust me—that won’t last forever.” She laughed.
Charlie was immediately taken with her.
She poured the tea and let Charlie help himself to milk and sugar. She took hers strong and black.
“So,” she started, “you want to know about young Milo?”
“Yes. Do you mind if I take a few notes?”
“No, go right ahead.”
Charlie opened his note pad. “I’m just trying to get the fullest picture of him that I can. What kind of boy was he?”
Jasmine settled back into her chair. Charlie could sense that she was looking through a decade of life to get back to the time when Milo was living in this house.
“He was a good boy. A kind boy. I’ll never forget that he always remembered my birthday.”
“Did he have many friends?” Charlie asked.
“No. He was usually on his own. He was always reading and he liked to spend a lot of time outdoors, even in the winter. He loved looking for animals and taking their pictures. Milo also had a particular fascination with history. I think he got that from his father. Mr Griffin lives and breathes history. I remember him saying to Milo once, ‘Boy, you were born to be part of ancient history.’”
“So Milo got along with his father?”
“Not exactly. Milo and Mr Griffin weren’t on friendly terms. It was definitely a father-son relationship where Mr Griffin insisted he be shown respect—as he should have. I think one of the reasons Milo didn’t have a lot of friends was that Mr Griffinwas really protective of the boy. What you’d expect from a man with…well, let’s just say he’s not hurting for money.”
“Do you think he was concerned that someone might take advantage of Milo?”
She nodded. “When you are rich, you’ve got to think of those things.”
“When Milo disappeared, did Mr Griffin ever think that the boy might have been kidnapped?”
“At first he did, but no one ever asked for a ransom—at least not that I heard of. The police just thought the boy got it in his mind to run away and live his own life.”
Jasmine took a long sip of her tea. “I never felt that Milo was happy here. I think he may have felt a bit like a prisoner. Even when he was old enough to go for walks on his own, he had to take one of us with him.”
“One of you had to go with him?”
“Oh, yes.” She smiled. “Sometimes me. Sometimes one of the others. He was never supposed to be without us except when he was on the property, or in class at school.”
