Closing Time

by Brenda Chapman

  Two murders. Both victims struck with a weapon. Both connected to Pine Hollow Lodge.

  She drove her truck back to Mountainview Lodge at nine thirty after a quick shower, with Taiku riding shotgun in the passenger seat. He’d been sticking close by since finding Faraday’s body, almost as if he was worried something would happen to her, too. She settled him in the locked truck with the windows open and returned to the same table where she’d sat with Jordan the night before. She ordered the breakfast special before putting in a call to Gundersund. This time, he answered on the first ring.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “Having breakfast with Dawn in Joliette. She’s gone to the washroom. We’re visiting Rose one last time before driving back to Kingston. What’s going on there?”

  Kala motioned to the server hovering nearby with a pot of coffee and mouthed the word tea before saying into the phone, “The case is progressing, but the lead officer is on personal leave for a few days.” She didn’t want to worry him with news of the second murder or spend this call talking about the case.

  “So, you’re on your own?”

  “I have support.”

  She rushed to fill in the silence. “How’s Dawn? Is Rose doing better?”

  “Dawn has been amazingly stoic. Rose … I’m not sure. She puts on a good face when we’re there but she’s still on an IV and not eating. Her lawyer has been working on early parole and looks like he’s secured a hearing next month.”

  “That must give Rose hope.”

  “You’d think, but depression can be a terrible beast. Fisher’s death hit her hard.”

  “Even though they were estranged.”

  “Yeah. No accounting for the human heart.” His voice dropped. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.” She bit into her bottom lip. She wanted to tell him about Jordan, but not over the phone. “I have to go,” she said. She didn’t want him to sense that she was keeping secrets.

  He took a moment before saying, “Have you changed your mind? Do you want me to bring Dawn back to you?”

  “No, it’s getting complicated. Could you keep her in Kingston?”

  “Of course. Do you want to talk to her? She shouldn’t be much longer.”

  “It’s okay. Tell her I said hello. When I get home, I’ll take her back to Joliette. I really have to go now.”

  “Well … call me again soon.”

  “I’ve tried to reach you before. It’s hit and miss.”

  “I’ll try tomorrow.”

  She broke the connection and stared into space, putting away the feelings the brief call had evoked before focusing on her phone and checking for messages. Two waiting. She returned Rouleau’s call first.

  “Good morning, Stonechild. CTV reported a second death at the lodge.”

  “Word travels fast. Yes, Taiku found Thomas Faraday in the lake. He was a retired photographer and summer resident at the lodge. The back of his head sustained a blow before he drowned.”

  “Another murder?”

  “Looking that way.”

  “Are you safe staying there?”

  “I haven’t felt unsafe. Taiku is with me to raise the alarm if someone tries to get into my cabin, but I’m glad Dawn is away from here.”

  “Any leads?”

  “Not yet, although I’m getting a sense of the people and their relationships. The killer has to be one of them.”

  “Morrison looked into the priest’s background and sent me her findings. Can I forward to you now?”

  “Perfect. Thanks and thank Tanya for me.”

  “I’m sending it as a protected document. Password is secretSanta. No spaces. Capital s on Santa.”

  “Great.”

  “Anything we can do at this end?”

  “Not at the moment but I’ll be in touch if something else comes up.”

  “You take care, Kala. Call me anytime.”

  “I will, sir.”

  She hung up and opened her email. The file was in Word and contained a concise accounting of Father Vila’s life and career. Kala skimmed through his childhood and school honours and focused on his years as a priest. Tanya had bolded a sentence toward the end and made a comment. He’s moved parishes four times in five years, the last placement for only eight months in Sudbury. I called the parish and they refused to speak about him. Odd, or usual Catholic stonewalling?

  Kala sipped her tea and thought about Father Vila. Young. Good-looking. Intense. Weekly access to a struggling Rachel. For this was how she saw the girl — smothered by her mother, dragged to religious services every week, obedient until this summer. Living a life of romance through books and poetry. She’d been sheltered her entire life and this bit of freedom had made her vulnerable. Kala considered the many priestly abuses and the Church’s tendency toward secrecy and cover-up. A perfect storm or wrongly placed suspicion?

  Kala picked up her phone and texted Morrison. Father Vila has a sister, Sara, who lives in Sudbury. Can you get me her contact info? She knew Clark had the information but wouldn’t bother him.

  The server left as if hearing some magic signal and reappeared with her meal. Kala picked up her fork and ate while she waited for the ping of Morrison’s message. She checked the internet between bites. Four hours on the Trans-Canada Highway from Searchmont to Sudbury. If she set out now, she’d be in Sudbury early afternoon. The Sault police were handling the Faraday crime scene and getting alibis that they’d share with her later today. She took one last mouthful of eggs and signalled to the server for her bill.

  The drive was uneventful, and she made the trip in under four hours. Memories flooded back and she felt the usual mix of good and bad as she neared the city limits. Sudbury was the largest northern Ontario city with a population topping one hundred and sixty thousand. North of the Great Lakes, its lifeblood had been nickel mining, which had terribly defaced the countryside, and the black rock formations still exhibited the effect of generations of smelting ore. Through regreening practices and improved mining techniques, the city had made great strides in beautifying the landscape and Sudbury no longer looked like the moon — an infamous description that had dogged the city for decades. Kala knew the Algonquin and Ojibwa had roamed these lands for thousands of years before the city was created around the railroad and mining in the 1800s. She herself had lived with a foster family and then on the downtown streets, making friends with the homeless population for a time. Street people she fondly remembered, but years she’d just as soon forget.

  She’d punched in Sara Vila’s Bayside Crescent address into her phone and followed the directions that took her to an affluent suburb adjacent to Ramsey Lake, a section of town she’d had no reason to frequent in her previous life. Sara’s house was a faux-brown-brick split level with a large yard and view of the water. Kala pulled in behind a silver Subaru and shut off the truck engine. She sat for a moment and surveyed the lot. While a substantial property in a great location, Sara’s home was one of the more modest houses on the street. For some reason she’d thought that Sara would live simply like her brother, but this impression came from one too many television dramas where the spinster sister lives with her priest sibling and looks after the manse. Obviously, Sara had built a full life of her own.

  A Wheaten terrier with a black muzzle and ears greeted her as she stepped out of her truck. Tail wagging, the dog butted its head against her thigh. She was stooped over, rubbing its head when the front door to the house opened. Kala smiled and raised a hand to the woman. She was rewarded with a friendly smile. She started up the path with the dog leading the way.

  “Are you Sara Vila?” she asked as she reached the bottom step.

  The woman was in her midthirties with straight, shoulder-length black hair and deep-set eyes. She had a smooth olive-skinned complexion like her brother. When she turned her head, there was a purplish-red birthmark extending from jawline to cheekbone that marred the right side of her face. She saw Kala’s eyes fixed on her face and self-consciou
sly pulled on her hair so that strands partially covered the birthmark. Her smile was replaced by a cold gaze. “I am. Can I help you?”

  “I’m Officer Kala Stonechild from the Kingston Police. I’m staying at Pine Hollow Lodge near Searchmont and helping the Sault police with the recent murders.”

  “Dear me, I was so sad to hear of that girl’s death.” Sara’s frown deepened. “You said murders. Has there been another killing?”

  “I’m sorry to say that a man staying at the lodge drowned as well. However I’m following up with everyone who was at the lodge for supper the night Rachel was killed.”

  “Of course. Please come in for tea and I can tell you what I know, which I’m afraid isn’t much.” She looked past Kala. “Ezra!” she called to the dog while opening the door wider to let him saunter past.

  Kala followed her into a sunny kitchen with honey-coloured pine cupboards and a dated green backsplash. An oval table under a window was covered in a blue-and-white-checked tablecloth. On the hutch sat a large arrangement of yellow and orange chrysanthemums and white baby’s breath next to a Bible. She took a seat at the table and looked out the window at the lake while Sara poured tea from a pot at the kitchen counter.

  “You have a lovely home,” Kala said as Sara set the mugs on the table before taking the chair kitty-corner to her. She’d sat so that the birthmark was angled away from her.

  “It is lovely, isn’t it? I’ve only been here a few years, but feel as if I’ve finally found my corner of the world.”

  “What do you do for a living, Sara?”

  “I nurse part-time at the hospital, but I also write inspirational fiction and pamphlets. In addition, I manage several websites for various Catholic diocese in Sudbury. I’m busy.”

  “Do you live here alone?”

  “I do now, although I’ve taken in foster children over the past several years. Babies, usually, before they’re placed or return to their parents. I’m child-free at the moment.”

  “You and your brother Alec are close.”

  Sara’s face beamed as if a ray of sunshine had struck her full on. “He’s been my rock and my salvation … well, next to the Lord, of course.” She laughed and crossed herself.

  Kala took a sip of tea before getting to the reason for her visit. “What can you tell me about the evening when you and Alec ate at Pine Hollow Lodge?”

  “Alec had worked all day, visiting people in the hospital and sitting with a man at the end of his life. We decided that supper out would help him to relax after a long day.”

  “So, dinner at the lodge was your brother’s idea?”

  “Yes. We arrived the same time as Reeve Neilson and his wife, and two teachers, Phil and Greta Bocock, from the local high school. After Alec introduced us, they graciously asked us to join them. I knew that Alec would have preferred it be just the two of us, but he readily agreed. He’s generous with his time even when he’s exhausted.”

  Her words seemed disingenuous. Alec had easily given up a quiet meal with his sister — her last evening in Searchmont — to eat with people she didn’t know. Kala was beginning to get a clearer picture of their relationship. The shy, less attractive sister who was happy to exist in her revered brother’s shadow … or was she? “Did you interact with Rachel Eglan that evening?”

  “The young woman who died?”

  “Yes.”

  “She didn’t serve our table, although I did notice her. She was chatty and came over to speak with the Bococks mainly. They both taught her at one time. After she left, Greta said that Rachel was timid when it came to team sports and it was nice to see her coming out of her shell. Phil was complimentary about Rachel’s writing skills. Apparently, he’s been mentoring her.”

  “Did your brother add anything to that conversation?”

  “Oh, yes. Alec said that she was a wonder with the children in the Sunday school and daycare.”

  “Did he interact with Rachel at the restaurant?”

  Sara shifted slightly in her chair so that she was looking out the window. “Not that I saw.”

  “Your brother moved churches often. In fact, he stayed less than a year at Redeemer. Can you tell me why?”

  Sara’s head swivelled back so that she was staring at Kala. Her gaze was searching, but Kala didn’t look away. Sara’s shoulders dropped and she bowed her head. “A misunderstanding. That’s all it was.”

  Kala’s heart quickened. Her instincts had been right. “Tell me what happened.”

  “The young woman was needy and she played on Alec’s kindness. He … he gave her extra attention that she misconstrued. The Church thought it best to transfer him to a new parish so that everyone would move on from her … obsession.”

  “Had this happened before?”

  “Alec told me that she wasn’t the first young woman to believe herself in love with him. He thought it was the attention he paid them when they came to him for counselling. Alec has the ability to listen and empathize. Many girls don’t have that in their lives.”

  Kala wondered if Sara realized she’d used the word girls instead of women. “Please tell me her name.”

  “I never knew it. Alec said the fewer people involved, the better for the girl. He felt she’d be embarrassed later when she came to her senses.”

  “Did Alec speak with Rachel that last evening at Pine Hollow Lodge, even briefly?”

  Sara frowned and took a moment to think. “I saw them together in the hallway when he went to the washroom, but they were only passing each other.”

  “And when you got back to Alec’s home?”

  “I went to bed to pack and read while Alec worked in his office. I didn’t hear him come to bed.”

  “Neither of you left the house again?”

  “No.”

  “Although is it safe to say that you wouldn’t have known if he’d gone out?”

  Sara lifted her chin and stared defiantly into Kala’s eyes. “And he wouldn’t have known if I’d left the house either.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Shane sat in the kitchen waiting for Petra to wake up. Her sleeping-pill container had been on the counter when he returned late from the beach the night before, and she hadn’t stirred when he’d tried to shake her into wakefulness. He wondered if it was time for an intervention. She was self-medicating more and more — the prelude to her spinning out of control. She’d never accepted the doctor’s bipolar diagnosis. He needed to get her back into the city where he could coax her into seeing another specialist.

  There was a rap at the back door and he got to his feet. Neal was standing a few metres away from the cabin looking into the woods. He turned his head. A lit cigarette hung from between his lips and he squinted at Shane through the smoke. “Want to go for a walk?”

  Shane listened for a moment to hear if Petra was up but there was no sound from the bedroom. “Let me get my jacket.”

  They walked down the road and through the woods to the last cabin, where the cop Stonechild was staying. Her truck was gone and she’d never know they’d trespassed. Neither of them said much, in an unspoken understanding that conversation could wait until they reached their destination.

  “This is my favourite bit of land,” said Neal as he eased into a sitting position on the granite rocks rising up from the lake.

  Shane stood for a moment looking across at the far shore and savouring the peace. The sky was that pure, brilliant blue that made him want to get in his canoe and paddle into the endless beyond. He lowered himself next to Neal. “This is as private as it comes at Pine Hollow Lodge. Looks like a clear day ahead.”

  “Smoke?” Neal held out a crumpled pack.

  “Sure, why not.”

  Neal lit Shane’s cigarette with the glowing end of his own before lighting a fresh one for himself. He put the pack into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask. He took a swig and handed it to Shane. “I’m leaving Martha when we finally get out of here,” he said.

  Shane paused with the flask halfwa
y to his mouth and absorbed the statement, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He took a long drink and handed the flask back. “You sure about this? If your decision has anything to do with her fling with Petra, I wouldn’t put any stock in it. Martha loves you.”

  “It might have started with Martha cheating on me with Petra, but my decision’s been simmering for a while. I’m restless, Shane. It’s not all Martha’s fault. Maybe her sleeping with Petra was a symptom of what’s wrong between us. All the miscarriages have turned us into a couple I don’t recognize. Martha’s grieving all the time and I’m losing patience with her. I don’t like the man I’m turning into when I’m with her. I’ve come to realize that we can’t go back.”

  Shane wondered why he hadn’t sensed the depths of the man’s inner turmoil before now. Neal had gone about the place fixing what needed fixing without complaint. Even his anger at finding the two women together had appeared mild on the surface until that episode in the kitchen. Shane realized now he’d misjudged him. “Does Martha know?” he asked.

  “She does, but she doesn’t believe I’ll follow through. We’ve been together too many years to count.”

  Shane inhaled a blast of nicotine and held it in his lungs. He welcomed the burning pain. He watched a loon and her two offspring bobbing in the waves. The young ones were big enough to fend for themselves. He exhaled.

  Neal broke the silence. “I can’t believe you’re staying with Petra. I don’t know how you put her cheating aside.”

  “She’s complicated. We’re complicated.”

  Neal rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and shot Shane an apologetic look. “I wasn’t going to tell you, man, but I’d want to know so maybe you should, too. Petra was with one of the Hydro workers last night when you walked to the beach with the cop.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I saw them … together. Standing outside, necking like a couple of teenagers. Then he took her by the hand and they went inside the boat shed down by the lake.”