“I am, and this is Taiku.”
Petra reached a tentative hand and patted him on the head as if tapping on a tabletop. She looked toward the cabin and back at Dawn. “Are you here all alone?”
“My aunt Kala’s helping the Soo police, but she’ll be back soon.” Dawn wasn’t sure why she felt vulnerable alone on the dock with this stranger, but her inquisitiveness felt wrong.
Petra took off her flip-flops and set them next to her. She leaned back on her elbows. “What’s your story then?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Where do you come from and what brought you here?”
“Oh. We live in Kingston and my aunt likes the wilderness. I’m not sure why she picked this place.”
“She’s a cop?”
“In Major Crimes.”
Petra chewed on her bottom lip and looked across the lake. “Quite a coincidence that she’s here when we have a murder.”
“She’d rather it didn’t happen.”
“Of course. Of course. I didn’t mean …” Petra laughed again, but this time the lightness was gone. “Rachel’s death has been hard on everyone. She’s turned our lives upside down.”
Dawn couldn’t tell if Petra was sad for Rachel or upset that her death had tipped the equilibrium of her world. She stayed silent and watched the black shapes of the fish rippling past in the water.
“I want to go to Sudbury, but need to ask permission,” Petra continued. “Unlike your aunt, I don’t like the wilderness. I crave the city lights.”
Dawn pulled her thoughts back. “Will your husband go, too?” Who would do the cooking if he left?
“That … I’m not sure.” Petra reached for her flip-flops. “I’m going swimming later if you want to come. You can bring your dog.”
“I think it’s going to rain.”
“We should go soon then. I’ll meet you outside the main lodge in half an hour.” She stood and stepped into her sandals. The scent of perfume rose with her. “The beach isn’t far. It’ll break up your day.”
Dawn was going to refuse but Petra was already halfway down the dock before she found her voice. By then she thought that she might as well go for the swim, because there was no telling how long Kala was going to be gone now that she was tracking down a killer.
And perhaps I can find out something that will help Aunt Kala with her investigation, she thought. Maybe Petra will let something slip if I play along and keep my ears open.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kala called for Dawn and Taiku when she stepped through the cabin door. She bumped into Clark when she spun around to have a look outside. “Dawn isn’t here,” she said. “Where could she and Taiku have gotten to?”
“They’ve likely gone for a walk and will be back shortly. The storm isn’t far off.” Clark stepped aside and she walked around the property without seeing any sign of them. She even went to the end of the dock and scanned the water, which the wind was whipping into choppy waves, pewter-grey under the thickening cloud cover. Clark was sitting at the counter, typing on his laptop when she came inside.
“Any luck?” he asked, glancing at her as she put her hand on the teapot sitting on the table.
“Dawn’s been gone a while if this cold pot is any indication.”
“The dog is with her?”
“Yes.” Kala tried to relax and let the bad energy go. This isn’t like the last time. Dawn is safe here. But still the worry wouldn’t leave her.
“So, we’re keeping Darryl Kelly on the list of suspects,” said Clark.
Kala tried to focus. “I’d like to know more about his interest in Rachel and what he did after she broke up with him.”
“Noted.” Clark typed and looked up. “The English teacher and his wife — the Bococks — had opportunity, too. Both had access to cars and they were alone during the time frame.”
“Greta’s alibi is that she was with her mother after supper, but she could have slipped out.”
“I’ll check with the mother anyway. I’ll also call Father Vila’s sister, Sara, to confirm his story so we can eliminate them.” He typed another note. He let his hands rest on the keys.
“Somebody had to know Rachel was walking home alone on that dark and deserted road,” Kala said. “Or was it mere chance that they came across her?”
“We haven’t looked closely at the people in the lodge, but one of them seems more likely if we think the killer was aware she hadn’t been picked up as planned. They might have seen her set out on her own and followed.”
“We don’t know if the killer was on foot or drove.”
“You’re right. I assumed they drove to the spot, but they could have gotten there on foot. The fact they used a tire iron could be a red herring.” He gave a sideways smile. “So to speak.”
Kala looked toward the front door. “I know I shouldn’t worry, but I’d feel better knowing where Dawn and Taiku have gotten to. I can hear the wind picking up.”
“Should we take a walk and look for them? I’ve got my notes done and we can talk about next steps while we stroll?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
The door opened as they were walking toward it. Taiku bounded into the room with Dawn a few steps behind. Kala took in Dawn’s wet hair and Taiku’s muddy fur and her relief turned to anger. Dawn dropped her wet towel onto a chair. She took a look at Kala’s face and her head drooped so that she was standing still, staring at the floor. Kala took a breath to calm the furious words that threatened to explode out of her. Dawn spoke first.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Kala. I should have left a note, but I thought I’d be home before you.”
“You disobeyed me and went swimming alone.” Kala’s voice sounded dangerously flat even to her own ears.
Dawn raised frightened eyes. “No, I was swimming with Petra. She invited me to go to the beach, and I thought you wouldn’t mind if I was with her.”
“Petra?” Kala took a second to place the cook’s wife and her anger dissipated as fast as it had come. She crossed the space between them and pulled Dawn into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into her ear. “I was wrong to doubt you. It’s just that I was so worried.” She stepped back and held Dawn at arm’s length, forcing a smile onto her face. “Did you have a good time?”
Dawn took a moment before returning her smile. “It was okay. We walked to a beach about a kilometre down the road and the water was sort of warm near shore, but the ground dropped off and it was really cold farther into the bay.”
Clark made a noise behind them. “I’m going to be on my way. Why don’t I come by tomorrow morning after I make the calls we talked about and we can interview the people at the lodge?”
Kala nodded. “Yeah, I think we’ve done enough for one day.”
After he was gone, Kala made tea while Dawn showered. She chided herself for being so mistrusting when she was the one ruining their holiday with this case. She should have said no when she had the chance. She stood at the picture window looking through the trees across the stretch of property to the lake. It was four o’clock and the light was fading with the gathering storm so that the day had the feeling of dusk. A thunderclap made her jump and a ragged flash of lightning split the sky a few miles off to the east. Raindrops began plopping on the water and sliding down the windowpane in rivulets.
She was sitting at the counter on her second cup of tea when Dawn came out of her bedroom. “Feeling better?” she asked.
“Cleaner, anyhow.” Dawn nodded as Kala held up the teapot before pouring. She sat next to Kala and accepted the brimming mug.
“I thought we could go into town and try Gundersund again, but this storm is giving me second thoughts. It feels like a good night to have supper at the lodge and stay in with a book.”
“I’m okay trying him tomorrow … if you have time.”
“I’ll make time.”
Dawn added sugar to her tea and said while stirring, “Petra had questions about the investigation.”
“She wants to leave here and move to Sudbury and was going to ask your permission.”
“That will be up to Clark. We haven’t interviewed her yet, though.”
“She said she knew she couldn’t leave before you spoke to her.”
“Good. Did she say anything else about Rachel?”
“Just that Rachel was always listening at doors. It was as if Petra didn’t trust her.”
Kala knew Dawn wouldn’t have said this unless she’d given the idea serious consideration. Another disquieting thought gave her pause. Was she compromising Dawn’s safety by getting involved in this case? It was one thing for herself to be living near a killer, but Dawn might be unknowingly interacting with them. She needed to re-evaluate her involvement in the case, even if it meant letting down Clark.
They waited for the storm to ease up before walking the path to the restaurant. Everyone was at their usual table and Kala and Dawn sat at the one that appeared reserved for them. Martha poured glasses of water and took their order. Fresh pickerel, roast potatoes, and salad. “Neal was out fishing this morning and caught tonight’s meal,” she said. “You’re in for a treat.”
Thomas Faraday nodded at them but made no effort to engage. He had a section of the newspaper resting next to his plate and read while he ate. Ian Kruger and Blaine Rogers were sitting together, still dressed in work clothes and looking grubby and tired. They finished eating and left ten minutes after Kala and Dawn ordered. Martha returned with their main course at the same time as two couples entered. “Cottagers,” said Martha. “We have ten outsiders in total tonight. I believe curiosity is behind this sudden surge in dinner reservations.” She asked if Kala and Dawn had everything they needed before moving away to greet the new guests.
They ate their food quickly and didn’t bother with dessert. The wind blew the driving rain sideways as they ran back to the cottage. The storm held steady overhead throughout the night, not rumbling east until daybreak. Taiku slept fitfully on the floor between the two bedrooms, on guard against the noises and unease he sensed in the people he adored most. The people he would give his life defending if the threat ever found its way into their home.
The supper crowd gone, Shane shut off the lights and stepped outside. He locked the front door while the rain dripped down his back. He’d worn a light jacket when he walked from their cabin to the main lodge in the early afternoon, but it was no match for the wind and pelting rain. He was drenched through by the time he made it through the woods, relieved to see the porch light on and Petra’s car in its parking spot under the giant fir.
The front door was unlocked. Petra was sitting with her back to him on the couch. She’d lit a dozen or more candles and placed them on surfaces around the room, several on a table in front of the picture window, the flames glowing golden against the dark, rain-streaked glass. Leonard Cohen’s voice rumbled through the speakers and filled the room with haunting poetry. She turned her head sideways as if sensing him standing in the doorway.
“You’re late,” she said without looking at him. “I poured you a glass of red a half hour ago.”
“I had to make beef stock for tomorrow. The wine’s had a chance to breathe anyhow.”
“Come sit.”
He returned to the hallway and hung his jacket on the coat rack. His shirt was sticking damply to his back, but it would dry soon enough. He walked into the flickering light of the living room and picked up the glass of wine from the coffee table before lowering himself onto the couch next to Petra’s feet. Her bare legs curved out to her side with the rest of her wrapped inside a Hudson’s Bay blanket. One arm poking out from the blanket held a nearly empty wine glass. He noticed that the bottle had less than a quarter remaining. She’d placed a second uncorked bottle within arm’s reach on the floor.
“Did you eat?” he asked.
“Cheese and crackers. Pâté. It filled me up. I didn’t feel like seeing anybody.” She stretched a leg so that her foot was resting against his thigh.
He was quiet. Thought about what she was after. Whether he wanted to fall into that abyss. A gust of wind knocked against the cabin and whistled through the gaps, rattling every loose window. When the record paused between songs, he heard the rain pattering on the roof.
“I went to the beach with that cop’s niece. Smart little thing. Swims like a fish. She wouldn’t tell me a thing about the case.”
“She might not know anything.” He turned his face to study her. “Are you worried?”
“I want to get out of here. This bush camp is stifling. Promise me you won’t sign on as cook next summer.”
“Where would you like us to be instead?”
“I was thinking we could take one of those cruises and stay in Europe afterward. I adore Italian food. We could rent a villa in Tuscany and you could work in a bistro. I could be a hostess in a club like I did before we met.”
“Neither of us speaks Italian.”
“We can learn enough to get by. We both speak some French, so it won’t take long.” She bent forward and grabbed the nearly empty bottle by the neck. Her face was illuminated in the candlelight and her eyes glinted like a cat’s in a dark alley. She filled her glass and took a drink before settling back. “I have this bad feeling. We need to leave and start our lives somewhere else.”
“We can’t go until Rachel’s death has been solved.”
“Do you believe one of us …”
“Killed her? For what reason? She was harmless.”
“You’d like to think so.” Petra took a drink, and Leonard Cohen’s voice swelled to fill the silence. She kept her focus on the candle sitting in front of her on the table. “Rachel was sleeping with somebody and maybe wasn’t limiting herself to one horny conquest. I’d bet my diamond earrings.”
“She had a boyfriend.”
“That kid from town?” Petra flicked her wrist. “Pfft. Not him. Somebody she was keeping secret.”
Shane looked at the floor. He knew that she suspected him but would never ask because she wouldn’t trust him to tell the truth. Secrecy had become a two-way street. “You could be imagining a relationship that wasn’t there,” he said.
“Plee-ease. I know somebody having sex when I see them.” Petra raised both arms and the blanket dropped to her waist. Her breasts were bare and her skin glowed amber-gold in the light. She rubbed her foot higher on his thigh against his crotch. “But maybe I need a refresher,” she said. “I could be getting rusty.”
He doubted that but wasn’t prepared to start a fight. He had no clue what was behind her behaviour tonight, but he could feel his need to know slipping away. She reached her free hand over and took his, drawing it to the curve of her breast. Her foot continued its relentless pressure, rubbing back and forth, back and forth until a moan escaped his lips. She pulled away and got to her feet. The blanket fell onto the floor and she stood naked before him.
“I can see you’re in the mood to teach me a lesson,” she said as she thrust a leg across his and straddled his lap. She ran her fingers through his hair as she leaned in to kiss him. “And I’m in the mood to learn.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Clark woke sometime around 4:00 a.m. and rolled onto his side to wrap an arm around Valerie, expecting to feel her soft roundness and finding nothing. He sat up. The sheets where she should have been sleeping were cold to his touch. He pushed himself off the mattress, still groggy, worry making him clumsy. He swore softly when his knee connected with the post at the end of the bed. He found her in the baby’s room, sitting in the maple rocking chair they’d picked out two months earlier in the Soo. He could smell a faint trace of new paint, but the window was open and a clean breeze blew the curtains into the room like swooping birds. She took a moment to see him but smiled when she did. Her hair was silver in the light and loose around her face.
“The baby was playing soccer in my belly and I couldn’t sleep.”
He crossed the room to stand behind her. He ma
ssaged her shoulders through her cotton nightgown and kissed the top of her head. She was warm, her hair damp with sweat.
“Are you feeling okay? Would you like a glass of water or milk?”
She patted one of his hands while holding on to the heft of her stomach with the other. “I’ve had some contractions. Nothing serious. The doctor said to expect them about now. Braxton Hicks or something.”
He moved so that he was in front of her and knelt, his hands on her knees. “I’ll take the day off.”
“Not yet. I’ll need you soon, but it’s still early. You’ve only started on finding that girl’s killer. Besides, Jordan is here if I’m being too optimistic about the timing.”
“You and the baby are my priorities. The case isn’t going anywhere.”
“Neither am I. The first baby usually takes its sweet time.”
“Come back to bed. We can see how you feel once the sun’s up.”
She let him pull her out of the chair and he helped her into bed before carefully stretching out next to her. This time she kept a space between them but held his hand even after her breathing slowed and he knew she was asleep. He rolled onto his back and stared at the light playing on the ceiling. How could he bring a child into this world when a girl like Rachel could be murdered walking home from work on a summer evening? How could he keep his child safe when the world was so random? Isabelle Eglan had spent her life trying to keep her daughter from harm and the worst had happened anyway. There was no certainty that he and Valerie could do any better. There were no guarantees that their best would be good enough. The thought kept him awake until the birds began their morning song at the first shimmers of dawn, when he pushed aside the covers and decided he might as well get an early start on the day.
He left Valerie still sleeping and had a quick shower in the basement bathroom, not wanting to wake her. Breakfast was a toasted bagel eaten while he waited for the coffee to brew. He filled his travel mug and left an almost-full pot for Jordan. Valerie was resigned to herbal tea to start her day until the baby was through breastfeeding. Another reason he was thankful that he couldn’t give birth.
Closing Time Page 12