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artichoke frittata, a small ham covered with chunks of pineapple, cinnamon buns, fruit salad. Kyra ferried them to the table.
    They sat. Kyra studied Astrid’s face. How has Paul’s cancer played on her? Suddenly thinking, How had she managed motherhood? She pushed that thought aside.
    Astrid’s skin had gone grey too; normal for people in their seventies? Slim like Paul, a narrow attractive face, her thin lips enlivened by an occasional wry smile. A couple of times while serving she sent a worried glance down the table toward her husband. Kyra noted Noel tracking them. Now he stood, pulled out a cell phone and took pictures of them all. Kyra had made him upgrade. A picture was more powerful than any verbal description, she’d insisted.
    â€œSmile,” he said again.
    They did, a variety of grimaces.
    As he sat down again, Alana asked, “Are you two working on a case now, Unc?”
    She was a pretty young thing, Kyra decided, bottle-blonde hair, even features. Though the plucked eyebrows, dramatic black eye shadow, and pierced nose didn’t do it. And all those rings. I am getting old, Kyra thought.
    â€œYeah,” said Noel. “We are.”
    â€œWhat’s it about?”
    Should he be telling a seventeen-year-old kid about this? Well, seventeen seemed older these days than back in Noel’s own dark ages. “Kind of messy. A young guy, beaten badly, he’s in a coma. Dad, Mum? You remember Jason Cooper when I was in high school?”
    Paul said, “Sure we remember Jase.”
    Noel turned to Alana. “We were close from grade six on. Now he’s got three sons. The eldest, Derek, he’s the one who’s unconscious. Has been for three weeks.”
    â€œHow dreadful.” Astrid’s hand covered her mouth.
    â€œJase asked if Kyra and I could help. They live on Quadra but he was beaten in Campbell River.” He cut a small piece of frittata. “The middle son’s supposedly an impressive figure skater.” To Alana he added, “You still skate, Alana?”
    â€œYep, but just for the fun of it. What’s the skater brother’s name?”
    â€œShane Cooper.”
    â€œNo—” her eyes bugged at Noel “—way! You know Shane Cooper? He’s Worlds! He’s maybe Olympics! He’s great!”
    â€œNo,” Noel said testily, “I don’t know Shane. It’s their oldest son who concerns us. We don’t know a thing.”
    â€œOh Uncle Noel, Kyra, may I come with you, please, please, please? I really really want to meet Shane Cooper!”
    â€œAlana. We’re dealing with the brother in a coma.” Uncle Noel gave her a severe frown. “Not the skater.”
    â€œGran! Can I go with them. Please please?”
    â€œNoel?”
    â€œPlease, Unc?”
    Paul said, “Alana, I don’t want you near a case where a man’s been beaten up.”
    â€œI’ll be with Uncle Noel, it’ll all be completely safe.” And to Noel, then Kyra, “Right? Can I come with you? Please?”
    Noel stood. “A word, Kyra.” He led her to his parents’ bedroom. “I’m not hot on having her along. We need to investigate, not babysit.”
    â€œShe’s hardly a baby anymore.” Kyra mused. “Maybe with a family of teenagers she’d sense things we didn’t.”
    â€œHmm.” Noel mulled. “We’re too aged to understand the young?” He shrugged. “Maybe.” Back at the table he said, “It’s up to your grandparents, Alana.”
    Astrid folded her hands. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” To Noel she said, “Can you deal with her for a couple of days?”
    Okay, just maybe this tough-looking young woman would note things he and Kyra didn’t. “I guess so.”
    â€œBack by Friday, Alana.” said Astrid. “I don’t need your parents angry with me.”
    Now Kyra was thinking,