“He tried to let her down easy,” Alison explained. “He had a long heart-to-heart with her, but it didn’t help. She came back from his place in tears. Packed her bag and left the next day.”
“Do you know where she went? ” I asked.
“Sorry.” Alison shook her head. “Daniel might, though. Lord knows what Bree told him.”
“Can you give us his phone number? ” Cameron asked.
“Sorry,” Alison repeated with an apologetic shrug.
“Can you tell us where he lives? ” I asked.
“I’ll do better than that,” said Alison. “I’ll draw you a map. You’ll need one. Daniel lives in the wop-wops.” Her brow wrinkled. “Bree was in tatters when she took off. Someone needs to find that girl before she does something stupid. I’ll be back in two ticks with your crayfish.”
She returned a few minutes later with a roughly drawn map and the biggest crayfish I’d ever seen. She handed the map to Cameron before placing several dishes before us.
“When you find Bree, tell her I’m thinking of her.” Alison smiled sadly, then hastened to wait on another table.
After studying the map, Cameron proposed a plan of action. “We’ll check out of the hotel tomorrow morning and drive straight to Daniel Rivers’s place. If he can’t tell us where Bree went, we’ll have no choice but to return to Auckland.”
“Okay,” I said absently. I couldn’t take my eyes off the humongous crustacean spilling over the edges of my plate. “Are you sure this is a crayfish? It looks like a lobster.”
“You’re accustomed to freshwater crayfish,” Cameron said wisely. “These beauties come from the sea. After you’ve had your first mouthful, you’ll wish they were bigger. They’re succulent, sweet, and altogether delicious.”
Renewed hope had restored my appetite, but before attacking my meal, I raised my glass of chardonnay and proposed a toast.
“To saltwater crayfish,” I said. “And to a fresh lead.”
Cameron waved Alison’s map in triumph as he touched his glass to mine.
Ten
My first task upon returning to my room after dinner was to telephone Bill. He informed me that all was well on the home front, that Ruth and Louise were delighted to know that they had a great-grandniece, and that they approved of my decision to deliver their letter to her. I explained yet again why I wouldn’t be on the first available flight back to England.
“Don’t worry about it,” he urged. “Just find the girl.”
“I’m trying,” I assured him, “but she’s not cooperating.”
Bill called Will and Rob to the phone, and after they demonstrated that they knew more about New Zealand than Mummy did—“No, Mummy, kangaroos live in Australia”—I said good night, plugged the cell phone in to recharge, and packed my “nice” clothes in the duffel bag to get a head start on the morning.
I climbed into bed at nine o’clock, warmed to my toes by a hot bath and filled to the bursting point with sweet, succulent, and altogether delicious crayfish. Though drowsy, I opened the blue journal and brought Aunt Dimity up to speed on my action-packed day.
She was sorry that the weather had prevented me from enjoying the scenery, pleased that I’d met the Lord of the Forest, and gracious in defeat when she learned that Bree hadn’t come north to find her mother but to seduce a married man.
“I think Bree must be having some sort of breakdown,” I said.
“She certainly doesn’t sound like the girl with the dog-eared books, the cute stuffed animals, and the blue gingham duvet.”
Bree has been holding her family together with both hands, Lori. Girls burdened with too much responsibility sometimes find it necessary to rebel.
“They do,” I said, nodding.
It’s possible, of course, that Alison misunderstood Bree’s intentions. Do you remember the sketches you found pinned to the bulletin board in Bree’s bedroom? You told me that they were quite good. Perhaps she approached Mr. Rivers for advice on artistic endeavors.
“She just wanted to show him her sketches?” I said with a juicy chuckle.
I suspect that fatigue has made you giddy, Lori.
“I’d blame it on the local chardonnay,” I interjected happily. “It’s superb.”
I’ll leave you to sleep it off, shall I? We can continue our discussion after you’ve spoken with Mr. Rivers.
“Good night, Dimity,” I murmured.
Sleep well, my dear, though I doubt that you’ll need my encouragement. Your first day in New Zealand has been nothing if not eventful.
I closed the journal and placed it beside Reginald, who sat beneath the lamp on the bedside table.
“Dimity likes to think well of people, and I love her for it,” I said to my pink bunny. “But sometimes she misses the obvious. It’s pretty clear to me that Bree came here to pounce on Daniel Rivers. I just hope he knows where she went. The Pyms can’t hold on forever, and I can’t spend the rest of my life chasing after a confused teenager.”
I touched a finger to Reg’s snout, turned out the light, and surrendered myself to the soft pillows and the sound of the booming surf.