anymore. You're in
deep doodoo, bro."
Evan thought that was funny, too. Hugh was less amused.
"Bunch of girls," he muttered.
Maddie was moved to heave the ball at him. He caught it in
midair and grinned rakishly. "See? Won't catch me snoozing."
"We already did," she said with a sniff.
However sunny, no late October day could offer picnic weather,
especially not on the Olympic peninsula at the foothills of mountains already
gaining the foundation for winter snowcaps. The McLeans had brought one to the
park anyway. John and Natalie had taken a ferry to Victoria for a romantic
weekend getaway. Privately Connor suspected they wouldn't leave their room at
the Empress. Hugh and Connor had offered to stay with the kids. Last night,
Uncle Connor had been enough entertainment. By today Maddie and Evan had begun
to get antsy and whine about going to friends' houses. The picnic had been an
impulse, but the kids had both jumped at it.
Yesterday Connor had worked, interviewing Tanner again and
half a dozen more students from Port Dare Middle School. Today, he had decided
to let well enough alone.
Tracy Mitchell and Gerald Tanner both could stew a little.
The girl had missed a week of school now, and must be getting restless. The
computer instructor's mood was swinging between anger and depression. Somebody
was due to crack, Connor figured.
"Can we go to a movie tonight?" Maddie asked,
unwrapping a sandwich. She seemed impervious to the wintry chill in the air and
the cold ground that had barely thawed by midmorning. Her sweatshirt was tied
around her waist, and she wore only jeans, a T-shirt and athletic shoes. But
this was a girl who played soccer games in pouring rain and snowstorms. Her
sport wasn't like baseball, postponed at the first drizzle. Officials never
seemed to call a soccer game.
"Yeah!" Evan chimed in. "Cool! A movie would
be fun. Can we?"
They had a rousing discussion about what was worth seeing,
with both men knowing perfectly well they would end up at a PG snoozer. The
trick was finding one that both a ten-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy
would enjoy. Maddie's tastes were starting to lean toward the preteen, while
Evan was bloodthirsty and repulsed by romance.
"Hey, that's my team," Evan said suddenly. On the
hour, players from the games that had just finished were heading toward the
parking lot, while the teams to play the next game were warming up. A group of
boys, filthy and grass-stained, were whooping and dribbling balls while their
parents trailed, chatting and carrying lawn chairs and coats.
"You should have kept playing," Maddie said.
Evan shrugged.
"You can go say hi," Hugh suggested.
He shrugged again. "Nah."
Connor watched him with the tangle of pity and compassion
and anger on his behalf that a parent might feel. Evan, scrawny and with huge
feet, wasn't very athletic right now. He would grow into those feet in a few
years, but right now he was struggling with a sense of inferiority.
Connor shared John's belief that their mother had
contributed to it. She had baby-sat the kids often after their own mother had
been struck with multiple sclerosis and forced to move into an extended care
facility. The kids' grandmother still stayed with them when a case had John
working hours that Natalie couldn't be home. For reasons none of them
understood, she had always been harder on Evan than on Maddie. John had told
Connor privately that he'd confronted her after Maddie told him "Grandma
is mean to Evan."
Mom was trying. Connor could tell. She'd smile softly at
Maddie, start to say something tart to Evan and then bite it back. Sometimes
she even managed a compliment. But he was sensitive enough to hear what she
didn't say.
"Do you miss playing soccer?" Connor asked
quietly.
Evan plucked a clump of grass and began shredding it.
"Not really."
Maddie, gifted athlete and sometime-bratty older sister, had
the tact not to say, You
sucked anyway.
Connor glanced back toward the boys who had been
deep doodoo, bro."
Evan thought that was funny, too. Hugh was less amused.
"Bunch of girls," he muttered.
Maddie was moved to heave the ball at him. He caught it in
midair and grinned rakishly. "See? Won't catch me snoozing."
"We already did," she said with a sniff.
However sunny, no late October day could offer picnic weather,
especially not on the Olympic peninsula at the foothills of mountains already
gaining the foundation for winter snowcaps. The McLeans had brought one to the
park anyway. John and Natalie had taken a ferry to Victoria for a romantic
weekend getaway. Privately Connor suspected they wouldn't leave their room at
the Empress. Hugh and Connor had offered to stay with the kids. Last night,
Uncle Connor had been enough entertainment. By today Maddie and Evan had begun
to get antsy and whine about going to friends' houses. The picnic had been an
impulse, but the kids had both jumped at it.
Yesterday Connor had worked, interviewing Tanner again and
half a dozen more students from Port Dare Middle School. Today, he had decided
to let well enough alone.
Tracy Mitchell and Gerald Tanner both could stew a little.
The girl had missed a week of school now, and must be getting restless. The
computer instructor's mood was swinging between anger and depression. Somebody
was due to crack, Connor figured.
"Can we go to a movie tonight?" Maddie asked,
unwrapping a sandwich. She seemed impervious to the wintry chill in the air and
the cold ground that had barely thawed by midmorning. Her sweatshirt was tied
around her waist, and she wore only jeans, a T-shirt and athletic shoes. But
this was a girl who played soccer games in pouring rain and snowstorms. Her
sport wasn't like baseball, postponed at the first drizzle. Officials never
seemed to call a soccer game.
"Yeah!" Evan chimed in. "Cool! A movie would
be fun. Can we?"
They had a rousing discussion about what was worth seeing,
with both men knowing perfectly well they would end up at a PG snoozer. The
trick was finding one that both a ten-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy
would enjoy. Maddie's tastes were starting to lean toward the preteen, while
Evan was bloodthirsty and repulsed by romance.
"Hey, that's my team," Evan said suddenly. On the
hour, players from the games that had just finished were heading toward the
parking lot, while the teams to play the next game were warming up. A group of
boys, filthy and grass-stained, were whooping and dribbling balls while their
parents trailed, chatting and carrying lawn chairs and coats.
"You should have kept playing," Maddie said.
Evan shrugged.
"You can go say hi," Hugh suggested.
He shrugged again. "Nah."
Connor watched him with the tangle of pity and compassion
and anger on his behalf that a parent might feel. Evan, scrawny and with huge
feet, wasn't very athletic right now. He would grow into those feet in a few
years, but right now he was struggling with a sense of inferiority.
Connor shared John's belief that their mother had
contributed to it. She had baby-sat the kids often after their own mother had
been struck with multiple sclerosis and forced to move into an extended care
facility. The kids' grandmother still stayed with them when a case had John
working hours that Natalie couldn't be home. For reasons none of them
understood, she had always been harder on Evan than on Maddie. John had told
Connor privately that he'd confronted her after Maddie told him "Grandma
is mean to Evan."
Mom was trying. Connor could tell. She'd smile softly at
Maddie, start to say something tart to Evan and then bite it back. Sometimes
she even managed a compliment. But he was sensitive enough to hear what she
didn't say.
"Do you miss playing soccer?" Connor asked
quietly.
Evan plucked a clump of grass and began shredding it.
"Not really."
Maddie, gifted athlete and sometime-bratty older sister, had
the tact not to say, You
sucked anyway.
Connor glanced back toward the boys who had been
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