Murder Sees the Light Read Online Free Page A

her Honda and confessed that she was stealing time from the generator which really needed attention. Since then, I’d seen her cutting the grass, chopping and stacking cordwood, rebuilding an outboard motor, flinging a pail full of fish heads to the four cats, and wrapping a piece of brown paper around an ovenproof casserole. She was followed everywhere by a twelve-year-old boy who belonged to the American in one of the log cabins.
    She sipped her tea. The downpour gave her a few minutes to relax. The Delco, the cats, the boats, and all of us could run around the block until the weather cleared.
    â€œI’ve got to do something about that beaver,” she said, watching my cigarette smoke drift up to the rafters. “He can build a dam faster than I can pull it down. It’s a pair, really. For two cents I’d scalp both of them, sell the skins in Toronto, and fix my chainsaw with the proceeds.” Outside, the belly of the window screen was luffing in the wind, sometimes flattening itself against the glass with a muffled smack. Joan hunched over her cup. “I’ll let the rain settle overnight,” she said, “but tomorrow’s another day.” She heaved an exaggerated sigh and reached for the teapot again, just as she’d reached for the Nescafé I’d made that first afternoon. Beyond the screen door, the fury of the rain was settling down. It was losing its tropical passion; the wind was no longer raking the ground and blowing the puddles from one depression to the next. One of the cats peeked in the door, and I gave it a dirty look: let it walk with its dirty, wet feet over a floor I don’t have to sweep. I was taking my domestic responsibilities to heart.
    â€œIt’s giving up,” I said, nodding at the weather. Joan smiled distantly. “Good weather for fishing.” She didn’t seem to hear.
    â€œWhen Mike and I moved into the lodge, it was a day like this. We looked like a couple of drowned rats by the time we had the truck unloaded. Everything had been left in terrible shape, and in the rain it looked like we’d made a bad bet. Then I found mice running around in the oven, after I got the generator going. When I saw that, all I wanted to do was pack up and head back to Toronto.”
    â€œIs that where you and Mike go in the winter?”
    â€œOf necessity. As it is he can’t leave his city job except in August. I’m glad to see him on weekends though. Maybe next year we’ll go south.” Joan sighed at the sound of that. She was too realistic to allow herself to dream, even on a rainy afternoon. “Fat chance,” she added, like a footnote. “To be brutally frank, Benny, the lodge isn’t the gold mine we thought we were buying. I made more teaching. We’ve taken ads in the papers and magazines, put up signs, but our main business still comes from the people who’ve been coming up here year after year. Oh, there’s a little word of mouth but not enough to retire on.” We listened to the rain slacken off for a minute.
    â€œIt’s giving up,” I said again. This time you could hear the difference. Individual plonks of rain were hitting the roof. I could see drops form, grow fat, and drop off the leaves outside the window. “This is the best fishing weather, they say.”
    â€œWell, make sure you put motorboat fuel in your tank and not straight gas. I wouldn’t want to lose another boat like the one I rented to Mr. Edgar over at the Woodward place.”
    â€œThat was your boat, was it?”
    â€œOh, he paid me for it. But I just meant be careful.”
    â€œWhat makes a motor explode like that? Do you have to be that careful?”
    â€œI get all kinds of people through here, Benny, and most of them know nothing about motors. This is the first time I’ve heard of one blowing up. It had to be more than the wrong fuel to make it do that.”
    â€œYou’re not saying