Wes swept his arms across, trying to reach it, but it wasn’t until Nadine poked the canopy from below that the object slid close enough for him to grab.
It was also like Wes that he put the chair away before coming to sit on the edge of the bed, treasure in hand. “It’s a letter,” said Wes. “From Allan to Dot. Undated.”
Nadine read it aloud.
My dear, it read.
I’ve been in Ottawa for a week, and my God, I can’t wait to get away. The men here are all blowhards, the kind who think talking is more important than doing, especially him. I wish with all my heart you’d let me do something to wipe that arrogant grin off hisface.
But I respected your wishes even when I saw him across the room with his arm around a young woman who had a smile that might have been painted on. It got me thinking, though, about what we’ve spoken of so often.
This is the last time I bring it up, I swear. I don’t have many weeks left. But I must give one last try, although I know you’re stubborn as a mule and prefer to write out your grievances to work through them.
You need to let people know what kind of man he is. The back-scratching deal with White and what he did to you and others. All those people, all those lives. I know when you left, you were scared, but we have each other as protection against him and his threats, the ones from before you left and the ones from when your book came out.
Deep down, you know I’m right. I’ll say no more on this, not even when I’m back in Toronto. But think about what I’ve said. Wilson doesn’t deserve to enjoy his life, and you deserve to be free of his shadow.
With love,
Allan
She toppled back on the bed with the letter on her chest, and Wes joined her. “We have it,” she said in a faint voice. “What we needed to connect John Wilson with Dot Voline and the White Group. It’s here.”
“I knew we’d get it.” Wes hooked his leg over hers to bring her closer.
Nadine turned to lie on her side, facing Wes. “But it’s too late,” she said. “After what happened with theSpear, Daniel will want much more than a few letters. He’ll point out that there are thousands of Wilsons and Whites, and this letter is too vague.”
“This would have been enough if we’d been able to act before Tylerdid,” said Wes. “This won’t cause theSpearto revisit the story either.”
They looked at the letter again. “He really loved her,” she said thoughtfully.
“She was lovable.”
“She was.”
“So that’s it.”
“Yeah. I think it is.”
They lay in bed, holding each other and watching the sun slowly travel across the window. They’d lost, and there was nothing left to say.
Then Nadine sat up. “No.”
“No what?”
“You said the other day that Dot put her faith in us. It’s not only Dot. Look at all the people Wilson has affected. Dot. Abigail. Monica. Ian, who had to find a new job. Probably Irina. All those people we found clippings about. Those towns who lost out because of his interference.”
“That’s all true but doesn’t change our situation.”
“Wecan change our situation. You know what Dot would say if she saw us giving up?” She didn’t wait for Wes to reply. “She’d tell us to quit whining and use our heads. You were right. We only have one day here, but Dot’s house isn’t our only hope, and those clues she collected are just the beginning. She left that manuscript unfinished, and we’re going to add the final chapter.”
“We can do it,” said Wes. “Screw John Wilson.”
“Yeah, screw that guy!”
Erma poked her head up to meow her agreement, looking between them. “That’s it,” said Wes. “Attack cat Erma is on the case. Wilson has no chance.”
Somehow, they would get John Wilson. Not today and probably not tomorrow, but someday, thought Nadine. They owed it to Dot.