was just debating whether we should send a contingent up there.”
“All the companies are going,” Ashley said. “Symantec, Microsoft, Apple. Quebec City is putting on a big show for them. A trip like that could be kind of a Christmas bonus.”
Shane Miller smiled at her enthusiasm. “Let me check it out.”
The following morning, Shane Miller called Ashley into his office.
“How would you like to spend Christmas in Quebec City?”
“We’re going? That’s great,” Ashley said, enthusiastically. In the past, she had spent the Christmas holidays with her father, but this year she had dreaded the prospect.
“You’d better take plenty of warm clothes.”
“Don’t worry. I will. I’m really looking forward to this, Shane.”
Toni was in the Internet chat room. “Jean Claude, the company is sending a group of us to Quebec City!”
“Formidable! I am so pleased. When will you arrive?”
“In two weeks. There will be fifteen of us.”
“Merveilleux! I feel as though something very important is going to happen.”
“So do I.” Something very important.
Ashley anxiously watched the news every night, but there were still no new developments in the Dennis Tibbie murder. She began to relax. If the police could not connect her with the case, there was no way they could find a connection to her father. Half a dozen times she steeled herself to ask him about it, but each time she backed off. What if he were innocent? Could he ever forgive her for accusing him of being a murderer? And if he is guilty, I don’t want to know, Ashley thought. I couldn’t bear it. And if he has done those terrible things, in his mind, he would have done them to protect me. At least I won’t have to face him this Christmas.
Ashley telephoned her father in San Francisco. She said, without preamble, “I’m not going to be able to spend Christmas with you this year, Father. My company is sending me to a convention in Canada.”
There was a long silence. “That’s bad timing, Ashley. You and I have always spent Christmas together.”
“I can’t help—”
“You’re all I have, you know.”
“Yes, Father, and … you’re all I have.”
“That’s what’s important.”
Important enough to kill for?
“Where is this convention?”
“In Quebec City. It’s—”
“Ah. Lovely place. I haven’t been there in years. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I haven’t anything scheduled at the hospital around that time. I’ll fly up, and we’ll have a Christmas dinner together.”
Ashley said quickly, “I don’t think it’s—”
“You just make a reservation for me at whatever hotel you’re staying at. We don’t want to break tradition, do we?”
She hesitated and said slowly, “No, Father.”
How can I face him?
Alette was excited. She said to Toni, “I’ve never been to Quebec City. Do they have museums there?”
“Of course they have museums there,” Toni told her. “They have everything. A lot of winter sports. Skiing, skating …”
Alette shuddered. “I hate cold weather. No sports for me. Even with gloves, my fingers get numb. I will stick to the museums …”
On the twenty-first of December, the group from Global Computer Graphics arrived at the Jean-Lesage International Airport in Sainte-Foy and were driven to the storied Château Frontenac in Quebec City. It was below zero outside, and the streets were blanketed with snow.
Jean Claude had given Toni his home telephone number. She called as soon as she checked into her room. “I hope I’m not calling too late.”
“Mais non! I cannot believe you are here. When may I see you?”
“Well, we’re all going to the convention center tomorrow morning, but I could slip away and have lunch with you.”
“Bon! There is a restaurant, Le Paris-Brest, on the Grande Allée Est. Can you meet me there at one o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.”
The Centre des Congrès de Quebec on René Lévesque Boulevard is a four-story, glass and steel, state-of-the-art building that can accommodate thousands of conventioneers. At nine o’clock in the morning, the vast halls were crowded with computer experts from all over the world, exchanging information on up-to-the-minute developments. They filled multimedia rooms, exhibit halls and video-conferencing centers. There were half a dozen seminars going on simultaneously. Toni was bored. All talk and no action, she thought. At 12:45, she slipped out of the convention hall and took a taxi to the restaurant.
Jean Claude was waiting for her. He took her hand and said warmly, “Toni, I am so pleased you could come.”
“So am I.”
“I will try to make certain that your time here is very agreeable,” Jean Claude told her. “This is a beautiful city to explore.”
Toni looked at him and smiled. “I know I’m going to enjoy it.”
“I would like to spend as much time with you as I can.”
“Can you take the time off? What about the jewelry store?”
Jean Claude smiled. “It will have to manage without me.”
The maître d’ brought menus.
Jean Claude said to Toni, “Would you like to try some of our French-Canadian dishes?”
“Fine.”
“Then please let me order for you.” He said to the maître d’, “Nous voudrions le Brome Lake Duckling.” He explained to Toni, “It is a local dish, duckling cooked in calvados and stuffed with apples.”
“Sounds delicious.”
And it was.
During luncheon, they filled each other in on their pasts.
“So. You’ve never been married?” Toni asked.
“No. And you?”
“No.”
“You have not found the right man.”
Oh, God, wouldn’t it be wonderful if it were that simple. “No.”
They talked of Quebec City and what there was to do there.
“Do you ski?”
Toni nodded. “I love it.”
“Ah, bon, moi aussi. And there is snowmobiling, ice-skating, wonderful shopping …”
There was something almost boyish about his enthusiasm. Toni had never felt more comfortable with anyone.
Shane Miller arranged it so his group attended the convention mornings and had their afternoons free.
“I don’t know what to do here,” Alette complained to Toni. “It’s freezing. What are you going to do?”
“Everything.” Toni grinned.
“A più tardi.”
Toni and Jean Claude had lunch together every day, and every afternoon, Jean Claude took Toni on a tour. She had never seen any place like Quebec City. It was like finding a turn-of-the-century picturesque