itself, a last remnant of Hudsonâs Bay Company days, now painted white and blue, disappeared in her rear-view mirror. Past a First Nations art outlet and onto an overpass. She found Machleary Street on the left, and a parking space.
Mid-Island Karate Association was in an old wooden building that had once been an elementary school. Kyra all but heard hordes of students thundering down worn stairs from the front door. Inside, a young bleach-blonde receptionist sat at a desk that held a telephone, a computer, and an empty in-out basket. âExcuse me, Iâm looking for Tam Gill.â
âHe should be done soon. Take a seat.â Bleach-blonde looked at her as if she were sizing up the competition. Kyra gazed back professionally, glad sheâd dashed to a store first thing this morning. New tan wool slacks and loose green woven top reassured her. Sheâd also found a comfortable pair of black suede shoes which, as she sat, she admired.
A man appeared. Tam. No doubt about it; the family resemblance was marked. As handsome a man as Kyra had seen in months. Six feet of taut brown skin, curly black hair still wet from the shower, a dominant nose. Black cycling shorts, brown T-shirt. Bleach-blonde lilted, âSomeone for you, Tam.â
Tam rewarded her with a smile and a wink. âThanks, Deb honey.â The smile dropped away as he turned to Kyra and raised his eyebrows.
Kyra stood up. âMr. Gill? Iâm Kyra Rachel. Could we go somewhere and talk?â
âAbout?â
âThe Dempster death.â
He looked her over appraisingly. âI really donât know much. I left for Europe that evening, just got back.â He nodded as if sheâd passed muster. âBut sure, if you insist. Iâll buy you a coffee.â He smiled at Deb-honey, whoâd been glaring at Kyra, but Tamâs smile quickly set her Deb bones a-melting.
At the bottom of the stairs Kyra asked, âWhere to?â
âA place down there,â he pointed, âthe green sign. Iâll get my bike and meet you.â
âYou can ride with me. Iâll drive you back.â
âIâm going that way.â He walked to the bike rack and waved.
Kyra drove around the block and back down Fitzwilliam. By the time sheâd found a parking space Tam Gill was sitting at a table in a little courtyard. She thought, heâs damn beautiful. Then she thought, damn, I swore and damn, heâs turning me on. Get professional, Rachel.
âWhat will you have?â Gill asked as she sat.
âA latte, I guess. You?â She started to rise.
He jumped up. âNo no, Iâll get them.â
âBusiness expense.â
âMy treat. Hold the table for us.â He went inside. She sat again.
This is a controlling dude. Through the window she watched him laugh with the server. He runs on high-test allure. Ten-twelve years younger than his sister? Late thirties somewhere.
He returned with a steaming latte for her, what smelled like a lemon something for him. âThank you.â He sat. She sipped, and licked her upper lip. âNow, about Roy Dempster.â
âNot much to tell. Youâve talked to my sister and brother-in-law, right?â Kyra nodded. âI doubt I can add anything.â
âWhat about the fight at that pub, the White Hart?â
âThat was years ago.â
âTwo.â
âYeah, could be. Roy apologized. Actually, he apologized half a dozen times. Heâd joined some menâs group. He was into apologies.â
âWhat was the fight about?â
âAghgh. Roy was with a bunch of guys at the next table. I was with a friend from Victoria, another artist. Weâre talking aboutââ he raised one eyebrow, ââimportant things. Royâs groupâs getting piss-loud so I lean over and tell them to shut the eff up, weâre talking business and canât hear each other. Roy leans over and squeals, âWhy
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