Free Death on a Short Leash by Gwendolyn Southin

forward and shook Nat’s hand. “I know that you will find out what happened to our girl.”
    â€œWe’ll do our best,” Nat answered.
    â€œDo you have children?” Marie Evans asked Maggie, after she and her husband had signed the contract and written down her sister’s address.
    â€œYes, two daughters.”
    â€œThen you must know what it is like for us . . .”
    â€œIt would be hard to even imagine,” Maggie answered. “Have you spoken to Johanna’s boyfriend lately?”
    â€œHe’s such a nice boy,” Marie answered sadly. “So upset about Johanna . . .”
    â€œSO, BOSS,” Maggie asked once they were alone in his office, “what do we do now?”
    â€œFollow up on the commune, talk to the boyfriend again—and this guy Peterskill, of course—and make another visit to Pandora’s!” He was grinning now.
    â€œMarie Evans seems to have conveniently forgotten that Johanna was an entertainer there.”
    â€œYeah, I noticed. I guess it’s a case of denial.”
    â€œI think the commune comes first,” Maggie replied, ignoring his reference to Pandora’s, “and I could call on the aunt. She lives fairly close to me.”
    â€œRight. I’ll give George a buzz and find out where this commune place is. He told me that the Abbotsford detachment has already paid the good brother a visit.” He reached for the phone. “We’ll go tomorrow, okay?”

CHAPTER SIX
    M aggie awoke to an overcast sky and the sound of branches striking the side of the house. “Do you still want to go to Abbotsford?” she asked, pulling the comforter up around her shoulders. She drained the last of the tea that Nat had made for her. “Couldn’t we leave it til next week?”
    â€œUp! You too, Emily.” Nat took the empty cup from her hand and then tipped the sleeping cat off the bottom of the bed. “I’ve been up since the crack of dawn to satisfy your terrible English habit of tea in bed. And I’ve prepared breakfast and had a shower.”
    Maggie snuggled further down in the bed. “Just a few minutes more.”
    â€œIt’s eight o’clock and the sun will probably be out by the time we’re on the road. Come on.”
    But the lovely autumn weather Vancouver had been experiencing the past few weeks had vanished, and by the time they reached the outskirts of New Westminster, the overcast sky had deteriorated to a blustery drizzle. They drove over the Patullo Bridge and into the Surrey countryside, and Nat cursed as the Chevy’s inefficient wipers streaked the grime sprayed onto the windshield from the trucks and cars they passed on the two-lane route.
    â€œTold you we should’ve stayed home,” Maggie muttered as they turned onto the Fraser Highway. “How long is it going to take us?”
    â€œA couple of hours,” Nat answered, peering through the grime. “There’ll be a lot less traffic once we’re beyond Langley.” But the journey seemed endless as they slowed to a crawl through the small settlements of Murrayville, Aldergrove and Clearbrook before they eventually wound up in Abbotsford.
    â€œAccording to George’s instructions,” Maggie said, reading from a slip of paper, “Cowslip Lane is the first right after the Pioneer Stockyards.”
    Cowslip Lane turned out to be nothing more than a rutted track. Nat, driving slowly to miss the water-filled potholes, thought the road would go on for eternity as his poor old Chevy bounced and slewed on the thick mud. “How much further?” he asked, hanging onto the steering wheel.
    â€œWe must be nearly there,” she answered. “I can see smoke ahead. Watch out!” she yelled. “There’s a chicken on the road.”
    â€œTough luck,” he answered back. “Oh my God!” He brought the car to a shuddering stop. “There’s hundreds