Black Fly Season by Giles Blunt Read Free Book Online Page B

they stand.’
    ‘If you say so. Anyway, me, I get the feeling the Vikings are seriously annoyed with Wombat.’
    ‘Which could mean they did away with him.’ Cardinal rubbed at a bite on his neck.
    ‘Don’t scratch. You’ll only make it worse.’
    When they were back on the highway Delorme said, ‘You know, that Lasalle is seriously goodlooking for a biker.’
    ‘Well, we’re very goodlooking for cops.’
    They were quiet for the rest of the drive back. There was only the sound of wind and tires
     
    and the odd squawk from the radio. Cardinal was thinking about the young woman with no memory. Those green eyes looked so innocent, her whole manner was so benign, it was hard to imagine anyone wanting to kill her. Then again, who knew what her previous personality may have been? For all Cardinal knew, she could be Bitch Incarnate. The only thing he was sure of: with no home and no memory, she must be the loneliest woman on Earth, and he wanted to find the person who had done that to her.

CHAPTER 6
    Catherine Cardinal had packed her cameras several times over the past few days, only to unpack them, check the lenses and batteries, and pack them again. But she had left her personal packing to the last moment. When the rented minivan with its load of student shutter bugs honked outside the house early that morning, she was still folding Tshirts and zipping up toiletries and searching in the closet and under the bed for extra shoes.
    Cardinal answered the door. The woman on the porch was tall, maybe forty, not exactly pretty, but she looked smart, and Cardinal always found that attractive.
    ‘I just thought I’d see if Catherine needed any help,’ she said.
    ‘I think she’s got everything under control. It’ll just be a minute.’
    ‘My name’s Christine Nadeau,’ the woman said, putting out her hand to shake. ‘This is the third course I’ve taken with your wife. Do you have any idea what a great teacher she is?’
     
    ‘I have heard that before. But thanks for telling me.’
    ‘Everybody’s very excited about this trip.’
    ‘Good. So is Catherine.’
    Christine Nadeau went back to wait in the car, and Cardinal found Catherine zipping up her carry-on in the bedroom. Her face was flushed, and she looked short of breath. Should I say something?
    ‘I’m so disorganized,’ Catherine said. She was shoving loose change and bills into her jeans pocket as Cardinal hauled the suitcase out to the front room. ‘You’d think I’d learn by now.’
    ‘You’re not disorganized. You were just focused on making sure your camera gear was in shape.’
    ‘I’m not going to check it again,’ Catherine said. ‘It’s a supreme act of will, but I’m not going to check it again.’
    She put on a khaki fisherman’s vest. Even on Catherine it was perfectly hideous, but it had thousands of pockets for film, flash, batteries, pens, labels, and filters - the myriad doodads of the serious photographer.
    ‘Did you pack your medication?’ Cardinal said. He had to. It wasn’t in him to let her leave town and not say this.
    Catherine turned her back on him and put on a light coat over the vest. A slim black coat. It had a hood with a red lining that gave off echoes of fairy tales.
    ‘Did you hear me, sweetheart?’
     
    ‘Yes, John. I heard you. Yes, I packed my medication. Thank you for reminding me that I can’t be trusted to so much as cross the road without supervision.’
    ‘All right. I shouldn’t have said anything.’
    ‘Here I am excited about a big project and you just have to rain on the parade, don’t you.’
    ‘Don’t overreact, honey. I’m glad you’re taking the trip. You should know by now - after twentyfive years or however long it’s been - I’m a worry wart. Always have been, always will be. Have a good time, and I’ll see you when you get back.’
    Catherine hauled her suitcase outside without another word. Cardinal watched her get into the car, an ache in his chest. I shouldn’t have