The Night Is Cold

by Brandon Enns

  The frosty air filtering through her lungs felt like razor blades peeling the inside of her throat and chest open with each short breath. She was inhaling rapidly, and her focus on the breathing was taking speed out of her legs. But she ran ahead anyway. She kept running. And then she ran more.

  The field was so wide. The other bluff of trees was near. Mia dropped to her knees and spit up blood into the snow and onto one of her feet. She wiped away the red blood off of her foot and saw that her toes were starting to turn black around the edges. It was possible that they were already like that from her time spent in the trunk of his car, feet curled near a crack by the hatch. She didn't have much time left, and she was still in the middle of nowhere. With one last mental image of home, she rose to her feet and tried running again.

  The tree line was so close now. With only another couple

  of minutes of running, she would be separated from that monster. Did he let me go a while back? Left me to freeze? Was he behind me tracking me? Her oxygen-starved brain made her do something she didn't want to. She stopped in her tracks and looked back. In the distance, she saw him standing in the same spot, just staring at her. And then, he dropped to one knee. He had something in his hands. A rifle.

  Mia turned and tried to move but her legs were locked up. She could only shuffle toward the bush.

  Eli had waited until she reached the trees. Before firing, he thought of his first...

  ***

  He was just a boy. Eli's foster dad was whispering to him as he tried his best to line up his shot, lying on his stomach. "All right. Slow relaxed breath, calm hands, squeeze the trigger. Nice and easy now."

  Eli struggled to find a steady hand off the start, but he stubbornly pinned the butt end tightly against his shoulder, which helped. After a quiet exhale, he fired. The elk dropped immediately and was unable to get back up to its feet. It struggled to rise but couldn't.

  "Nice shot! You're a natural." He checked his scope again. "I think you hit smack dab in the kill zone, Eli." He had never seen Frank so excited before.

  Eli's breathing picked up pace after the kill; it was becoming uncontrollable, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

  "You all right?" Frank asked. Eli couldn't face him.

  The elk was flailing on its back and side, still fighting to

  rise and escape. Eli's entire body trembled with satisfaction. He wanted to live in the moment forever.

  "What's wrong?"

  Eli turned to face his foster dad, Frank, who looked disturbed.

  "Nothing. This is fun."

  ***

  Eli lined up his shot, her blonde hair swaying across her backside above her milky white buttocks. He fired. The bullet exploded through the middle of her backside, dropping her to her knees.

  His boots crunched in the snow as he approached Mia Morrow. He picked her up and slung her dead body over his shoulder. Warm blood trickled down his neck.

  11

  Jennifer signed her name and entered.

  The file room was brightly lit, white spackled walls and an endless row of boxes. Everything was alphabetical, the dated boxes with brown hardwood-patterned tops.

  Brian had dismissed her, implying that most of his files from the old case had been sealed, but if she could find anything linked to it in the slightest, maybe it would give her something to go on. She started with the year of Tanner Pearson's murder. 2005. She located Baker.

  Jennifer siphoned through the file, expecting to find very little that would help, but it included everything from his court case back in '05, some of which was outlined in Kyle Morrow's files.

  Once again, there were eyewitnesses from two different pubs that Pearson went to, Leopold's Tavern and The Thirsty Scholar. They confirmed that Baker was there on several occasions, all alone, eying up Pearson. He was feeding his fantasies at this point, getting closer.

  Hair follicles at the house was the second dagger. It was later dismissed, as the new defense had argued that Eli simply spent time at those said bars after work. After all, there is no crime in grabbing a cold one. Because they had coincidently spent time at the same bars, it stood to reason that his hair could have found its way onto Tanner Pearson's clothing in multiple ways.

  So why Pearson? Was it politically charged?

  Eli was intellectual, she gathered that much by meeting

  him. If he is the Satanist, it's probable that there is a purpose or system behind his process and victim choice. But politics mixed with satanic symbols? And what about Derek Reider and Danny Adams? The families didn't know one another. Derek lived in Naicam, taking over his father's farm. Danny was a credit lender at a bank. Maybe Brian was right, something to do with farming disputes. Maybe an incident dated back could provide me a connection? They had looked into it, but there was nothing documented in the books.

  Was his mission complete? Is that why the murders stopped? Why did Brian lie about this information not being accessible? Is there more information that IS sealed?

  In the eyes of the court, Eli's case was weak stacked against Morrow's motives, but she knew in her gut what Eli had been doing when following Pearson-building up the courage.

  As she read through questionings from the trial, her mind wandered to their meeting at his haunting place out in the country. She had felt the heat from his fireplace, smells of ash and cleaning products suspended in the air.

  Jennifer reached the end of the file and there was one lonely page that she almost missed. Eli Baker was listed at the top. It was an empty report dated in the spring of 2002. Information was marked sealed. The page was dated and the location of the original report listed as the Saskatoon branch. There was no officer mentioned, no signature, the remainder of the page blank. Confidential Matter stamped at the bottom of the page.

  Under whose authority? The mistake made by Brian and the Saskatoon Department on Baker's case was no doubt an eyesore for the RCMP and the city of Saskatoon, but maybe it was more than that.

  Maybe there were other errors made.

  It couldn't be done through Brian, and without him, there was no way she was going to be able to find the correct higher authority, let alone convince them to divulge information that was clearly sensitive. There was too much red tape to traverse through.

  Jennifer took the files with her to her desk and tucked them into her bottom drawer and locked it. Brian approached.

  "Let's go see Baker tonight."

  Jennifer was not quick enough with an excuse, and he was onto her hesitation.

  "That collide with your social life, Allen?"

  "No, it's just...I don't think that's the right call. You were right."

  "You're kidding right?"

  "No. There's just no way. I've been through Morrow's files over and over again. I think you're right. It checks out."

  "It checks out..." He leaned over her desk, his smog of coffee breath seeping into her nostrils. "You think I can't tell when bullshit comes out of your mouth? What's going on?"

  "It's just—he might feel weird about seeing me two nights in a row."

  "What?"

  His double chin folded out.

  "I had to—"

  "Jesus, Allen. I was ready to work with you on this."

  "Yeah, but..."

  "But what?"

  "I guess I couldn't help it. I'm sorry. That was beyond unprofessional. It won't happen again." She needed to work

  this thing alone moving forward.

  "Oh, I know it won't."

  "It won't."

  "I'm putting Peterson on this. You're relieved."

  "Please don't do that." She had to sell it.

  "Don't do that? I'll damn well do whatever I want. You seem to forget that I'm running things here."

  Jennifer remained quiet.

  "So what was it? What made it impossible for you to wait for me?”

  "Nothing. I dunno. Intuition."

  "Give me an answer, Allen!" His voice boomed. All eyes were on them now.

&nbs
p; "You're small timing a real case here and you aren't willing to put in the work. You're way off and you weren't gonna question him the way he was supposed to be questioned! I actually give a shit about this case!"

  "But you don't. 'Cause you got yourself off of it."

  "That's fine then. I'm not feeling well. I think I need the afternoon."

  "Yeah. You better go get some rest. Three weeks’ worth should do it. You're suspended."

  She placed her gun on the desk and tossed her badge to Brian. It hit him in the chest and fell to the ground. Jennifer ignored it as she packed up some files and personal belongings. Most of the officers were staring at her. Some were pretending to look busy to avoid eye contact.

  She just couldn't help herself. "What are you all looking at? Please, go back to your meaningless work. Just do me a favor and at least work the school zones. You’re all being replaced by cameras and computers, you know that, right?"

  Brian grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her in close. "Are you done?"

  Jennifer ripped her arm free. "Yeah, I'm done." She looked back out to the group of disapproving officers and administration.

  By time she got out into the street, she felt like she was going to hurl. She was humiliated, which didn't exactly boost her confidence moving forward into her suspension with a satanic serial killer still at large.

  ***

  The next day, sitting in the middle of her living room, she studied files of the two murder victims, Derek Reider and Danny Adams. To her right, she also had the file on Dennis Walowski.

  She turned the television on. She always worked better with background noise.

  Jennifer stared at the bloodied picture of Dennis Walowski. He was paid by Eli. Dennis had something to do with his release from prison. He must have had something to do with Kyle Morrow's wife coming forward.

  Global news was just finishing a sports report when a different reporter came on.

  "A teacher from Prince Albert has been reported missing. Mia Morrow, sister of Kyle Morrow, recently convicted in the controversial Pearson case, was last seen leaving school yesterday at five p.m., and no one has seen her since. RCMP began an official search this afternoon." God dammit, Brian. He'd been sitting on it before he suspended her. He would have known sometime yesterday while she was still in the office.

  ***

  Saskatchewan Federal Penitentiary. Six months before Eli's release from prison.

  Eli put the phone to his ear. Dennis sat on the other side of the Plexiglas. He cleared his throat.

  "What did she say?" asked Eli.

  "I think this time may have done it. I can't be certain though, Eli. She should be coming forward. If not though...she admitted it. Morrow had told her that he knew she cheated with Pearson. That he stayed home from that hockey trip."

  "And you recorded it?"

  "Yeah. Felt like a piece of shit doin' that."

  "You don't think we'll have to use it?"

  Dennis sighed. "Emotions change our decisions all the time. Based on that meeting with her, yeah. Yeah, she'll come forward, and we won't have to force her hand in court...she broke down right in front of me, Eli. Wasn't pretty."

  "And her explanation for waiting until now?"

  "What we knew already. He was controlling, obsessive, the abuse worsened over the years. She finally saw that he was capable. She needs protection anyway, Eli. No joke. He's gonna kill that poor girl."

  "Okay. This is good."

  "It should go off without a hitch. This guy deserves what he's got coming. But the longer she waits, the more likely she won't say anything. I've seen a couple examples of these domestic-type situations. Not easy to follow through on." Dennis scratched his scruffy facial hair. "This Kyle Morrow, he's no good. It's hard to believe you've been in here for ten years." His eyes shone with tears.

  "Yes, he does. Make other plans for business. This still may not unfold the way we need."

  He narrowed his brow. "What do you mean? If she doesn't go ahead with it, we got her on recording. We should take it to the courts anyway. That girl needs protection whether she wants it or not."

  Eli shifted in his chair. "I've changed my mind with that. That girl needs to choose her own fate."

  Dennis looked as though he was about to protest, but he let go of it. "Miss having you around. Can't find good hires to save my life. No one wants to actually work these days.”

  "I'll be back. Hopefully sooner rather than later."

  12

  Pearson and Morrow were friends in university; that was common knowledge. After some digging through old Internet articles, Jennifer discovered a small write up about a talented football team in Clavet, where Morrow had gone to school his entire childhood. In the team picture, there stood Tanner Pearson, a large grin on his face. He was there in 2002, but that was it.

  Jennifer called into the school. "Clavet School, Sharla speaking."

  "Hi Sharla, Jennifer Allen calling. I'm with the RCMP."

  "Oh...what can I do for you, Officer?"

  "I'm just looking for some information on a few past students. Would you be able to look through the records for me?"

  There was a pause. "Is something wrong?"

  "No ma'am, just confirming some details from an old case."

  "I don't recall any old police matters here," she said. Jennifer heard paper shuffling. "I'm not sure if I can disclose information. You'd have to come in person so I can confirm you are RCMP."

  "Sharla, nobody is in trouble, I can assure you. I'd just like to know if a group of students all attended school back in 2002."

  "Um...what are the names?"

  "Derek and Bart Reider, Danny and Steven Adams."

  There was another pause on the line. "Can you do that for me, Sharla?"

  "Yes, one second."

  She didn't come back for another ten minutes. "Hi, sorry to make you wait. Yes, they were in attendance that year."

  "You're sure?"

  "Positive."

  Clavet is a small school. Why was she away from the phone for so long?

  "I really appreciate this, Sharla. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you been working at the school there?"

  "Me? Closing in on twenty years."

  "Congrats. They better give you a party and a gold watch."

  Sharla laughed. It sounded nervous. "I won't hold my breath."

  "Well, best of luck with everything. Thank you so much for your help."

  "No problem, have a good day."

  They all attended the same school. How had this not come up?

  ***

  Jennifer burned her lips on a cup of Tim Horton's coffee outside the College of Law at the University of Saskatchewan. She sometimes felt a sense of regret for not having gone to university. The campus was beautiful with its historic stone buildings. The laughing students walked through the inner bowl of the campus, possibly still drunk from the night before. She had originally thought of starting with psychology, perhaps getting her degree in medicine, practicing as a psychiatrist. Maybe if she had done that, she could have worked as a profiler for the RCMP, maybe even made her way

  into the States where her insights would be utilized with the FBI. She had had the grades but couldn't wait that long to get into the action.

  Jennifer spotted a male student walking out of the College and she approached. Steven Adams. He was tall and handsome with wavy dark hair. He had traveled the long way around, academically speaking, being a chartered accountant in the process of becoming a lawyer.

  "Steven?"

  "Yeah?"

  She suspected, based on the worried look on his face, that he expected her to be someone he may have slept with one drunken night, the memory blended in with other tequila-soaked evenings.

  "Jennifer Allen with the RCMP. Quick minute to talk?"

  She saw a nervous look compute. "I'll buy you coffee," she said.

  ***

  They sat in the library, and he checked his watch. "Steven, I just want to
say I'm very sorry about what happened to your brother."

  "I've already talked to the police. I told them everything I could."

  "I just have a few questions. Was your brother Danny at all connected to Derek Reider or Mia Morrow in any way?"

  "Not that I know of."

  "You're positive? Absolutely nothing at all?"

  "I've been through all this with the police."

  "I know, I apologize, but we need to be thorough. Whatever is going on, it appears there are no signs of it stopping. Anything you might know could save multiple lives.

  Anything, Steven."

  "I understand that, but I don't know anything."

  Jennifer sighed. "That can't be true."

  Steven looked shocked. "Excuse me?"

  "You all know each other. And you know each other well."

  Steven's frantic eyes glared into hers and then to the table that was filled with cookie crumbs.

  "I'm not sitting on a specific detail, trying to hang you up on something you did in the past. I know nothing. I just want to stop these kidnappings."

  His lip quivered, but he quickly dismissed it.

  "You think they're actually kidnappings?" he asked.

  "We don't know."

  His eyes glazed, tears spilled.

  "Steven. Just tell me how you know each other. Did you go to school together?"

  "Danny," his voice cracked. "He's not alive."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Why would any of them be alive? It's been too long. They haven't asked for anything. That—fucking blood thing on the ground." He clenched his jaw and whimpered.

  "You don't know that. Help me figure this out, Steven. You're a smart guy. For shit’s sake, you're a chartered accountant and a lawyer. Who does that?" she asked with a smile to lighten the mood.

  He shook his head, cleared his throat, and wiped his eyes. He fondled his coffee cup before taking a sip.