Clara saw that Mike, Thor and Jackson exchanged looks. She was certain that while their faces bore no real expression, they communicated.
Nothing that had happened today was dire. They could wait to exchange notes.
They gathered around the table. Clara saw that there were settings for herself, Thor, Jackson, Mike, Marc Kimball—and one more.
She remembered his timid little assistant, Emmy.
But, Kimball pulled out her chair and seated himself.
“Where is Emmy?” Clara asked.
“Emmy? Oh, Emmy,” Kimball said, waving a hand in the air. “She prefers to be alone.”
Apparently, Magda hadn’t known that. And Clara had the feeling that Emmy didn’t really want to be alone—Kimball just ignored her as he would a pen or a pad he used when it was needed and forgot when it was not.
“Oh, but I’d love to talk to her a bit!” Clara said.
“I’ll go knock on her door,” Mike Aklaq said, smiling at her.
“Great!” Clara said, smiling brilliantly at Kimball. “The more the merrier, right?”
Kimball took his seat. Jackson and Thor waited.
Mike returned with Emmy, who looked pleased and flushed.
“I was just working on some data...and I was actually just realizing that I was hungry,” Emmy said.
Mike held her chair for her. She took it and Mike, Thor and Jackson seated themselves.
Magda appeared from the kitchen. “I’ll scoop,” she said, and proceeded to do so, dishing out hearty helpings of stew.
“You doing all right, Magda?” Thor asked her.
“Right as can be,” Magda assured him.
“Nice, good to hear it,” Thor said.
She glanced at him and shrugged. “I need to get back in the Mansion. Those scientist people are just finishing up. We need to get those TV crew people back here after, too. Pick up their stuff. Bloody awful junk, if you ask me. Apparently, all that fake gore they have is expensive—props!” She shuddered to convey her disgust.
“We’ll get them out as soon as the cops give their okay,” Kimball said. He turned to Clara. “You don’t work with awful stuff like that, do you, Miss Avery? You do beautiful, wonderful, cheerful musical things all the time, right?”
“All musicals aren’t entirely cheerful,” Clara said, accepting a bowl from Magda. “I love Les Miz, but it’s not all cheerful. I’ve also done Jekyll & Hyde and a few other shows that aren’t all a laugh a minute.”
“But nothing like that horrible TV!” Kimball said.
“No, nothing like that,” she agreed.
“Mr. Kimball,” Thor said, “we really do want to convey our thanks for you being not only cooperative, but so hospitable. We’re grateful that your business ventures allowed for you to be able to come out to the island so quickly. We appreciate how valuable your time must be.”
“Yes, well, there are situations that require one to forget about business, right?” Kimball asked.
“You really arrived quickly—that was exceptional,” Thor said.
“I happened to have finished an important deal the night before. Naturally, when I heard, I sent instructions to the pilot immediately,” Kimball said.
“You must be exhausted,” Jackson said.
“Yes, of course. But, I sleep on the plane,” Kimball said.
He made a point of turning away from Thor and looking at Clara. “So, Miss Avery, I’m sure you must hate Alaska after this.”
“I don’t blame a place for what a horrible person might do,” Clara assured him. She went on to talk about the things she had been able to see and the things she wanted to see, aware that the agents around the table listened—and seemed grateful that she was keeping it all rolling. Emmy commented that she’d have loved to see more.
“You’re lucky you see anything,” Kimball said. “Very lucky that you work for me!”
“Of course,” Emmy murmured.
Clara glared at Kimball, her dislike for him heightened by his rudeness to his employee.
She saw expressions of disgust on the others, as well. Emmy looked at her and shrugged and shook her head; she didn’t want anyone coming to her defense.
The stew was delicious, which Clara mentioned to Magda. “Venison,” Magda told Clara. “And don’t go thinking we killed Bambi! You have to watch the population or the poor critters starve to death!”
When the meal was over, Clara yawned—and not with any point. She apologized quickly.
“It’s late,” Kimball said, dismissing her apology.
“Very late!” she said, looking at her watch.
They all rose as if on cue. “Can we help you pick up?” Clara asked Magda.
“Justin and I have this—you all just get out of our way,” Magda said.
She meant it; Clara thanked her and Kimball for the dinner.
“Good night, then,” Clara said.
Kimball took her hand. “I’m so happy you’re here. I’m not really sure why you’ve agreed to stay for law enforcement, but I’m so glad that you did.”
Clara shrugged, glancing at Thor, and wanting her hand back.
“There just might be something I can say or do or remember about...about Amelia,” she murmured. She hoped she didn’t sound too lame.