Free Striking Out by Alison Gordon Page B

nothing I can do to stop them until we get the anti-harassment legislation passed.”
    “Don’t worry about the rest of us. I’m sorry that those bastards are putting you through this.”
    She raked her fingers through her fine dark hair.
    “Comes with the territory, I guess.”
    She turned to Martineau.
    “If you don’t need me anymore, I should go back in and see to the kids.”
    “Sorry to trouble you, ma’am,” he said.
    She went back through the garden gate.
    “I guess that explains everything,” Martineau said.
    “But what about Maggie? She’s still missing,” T.C. said.
    “She’ll turn up,” he said, starting to walk back up the lane, Brewer right behind him.
    “Why don’t you boys straighten things up here,” I said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    I followed the policemen.
    “Look, are you sure you can’t have a look for her? She’s never just disappeared before.”
    “Lady, if we spent our time looking for missing bag ladies, who would catch the bad guys?” Brewer said.
    “Any more evidence turns up, you be sure to let us know,” Martineau added. “Until then, there’s nothing we can do.”
    I gave up finally, and stood and watched them get into the cruiser. As Martineau opened the driver’s side door, I heard him commenting on Anthony’s watch to his partner.
    “Wonder where he stole it at,” Brewer laughed.
    I went back into the laneway and found the boys. They’d picked up Maggie’s chair and put it back where it had been and were straightening up the boxes.
    “The police might be right, you know,” I said. “Maybe she’s just gone away.”
    “Without telling us?” T.C. asked.
    “Maybe the God’s Law people scared her away,” I said. “I’ll tell you what. Andy knows someone who works at one of the women’s shelters. I’ll find out where she is and go and talk to her. Maybe she’ll be able to help.”
    Anthony picked up the last box and put it on the pile.
    “You think her stuff will be safe here?” he asked.
    “I don’t think she’s got anything worth stealing,” I said. “Do you?”
    “She always worries about her boxes,” T.C. said.
    “Maybe we could put them in your garage,” Anthony said.
    “If you can fit them, go ahead,” I said. “But if she comes back, she’s going to freak out. Why not leave it until tomorrow?”
    I left the boys debating and headed home to call Andy.
    “Is your mother still there?” I asked him.
    “No. She left half an hour ago.”
    “Are you all right by yourself or do you want me to come back?”
    “Actually, Jim’s here.”
    “Good. How’s he doing?”
    “He’s fine, I guess. He brought the cribbage board, so I know he’s ready to lose some money.”
    “Any news on the SIU investigation?”
    “It looks like it’s going to be all right. Stimac told him not to worry about it.”
    “Tell him I’m glad.”
    “Okay. I’ll tell him. Got to go.”
    “Hang on a second,” I said. “I need the number of that woman you told me about. Your old girlfriend who runs the shelter.”
    “Moira Bell. Just a friend. What do you want to talk to her about?”
    “Maggie’s gone missing. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”
    “I don’t know her number, but the shelter is called Sisterhood or something like that. It will probably be closed by now, anyway.”
    I was flipping through the phone book.
    “There’s no Sisterhood. There’s a SisterLink on Gerrard. Would that be it?”
    “That’s the one.”
    “Thanks. See you tomorrow. Sleep well.”
    “You too,” he said.
    I got the SisterLink answering machine and left a message explaining who I was. Moira Bell called me back almost immediately.
    “I’m working late on a grant application, and happened to hear your call,” she said. “You say you’re a friend of Andy Munro’s?”
    “Yes, we live together,” I said, pointedly. “He suggested you might be able to help me.”
    “I was sorry to hear about the shooting. Is he going to be all