Closing Time

by Brenda Chapman

  “There you are, Petra,” he said as he got closer. His eyes were dark and hard, the set of his jaw angry. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. It’s time you and I have a talk.” His gaze passed over Rouleau and back to her. “In private.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Phil Bocock opened the front door. The smile on his face vanished when he saw Kala and Clark on the steps. His gaze went past them to the police cruiser in the driveway and returned to focus on them.

  “What’s this about then?”

  “We need to speak with you,” said Clark, “about Rachel Eglan.”

  “Then come in.” Phil opened the door wider and they stepped into the foyer. He didn’t invite them any deeper into the house. He was dressed in a Toronto Blue Jays T-shirt, ripped jeans, and Skechers with no socks. Kala wondered if he was trying to look like his students. “Whatever you have to tell me can be done here,” he said in his stern teacher voice.

  Taking Bocock’s animosity in stride, Clark asked, “Greta home?”

  “She’s upstairs doing laundry. What’s this about, Officer? We have a busy day underway.”

  “We’ve gotten information from a reliable source that you and Rachel were more than teacher and student. You were having an affair.”

  Clark’s voice didn’t leave any room for doubt, and they watched the bravado drain from Phil’s eyes. He looked to be searching through images in his brain, trying to find the source of their intel, figuring out if they were bluffing. The bluster returned. “I’m denying whoever is smearing me. You’re going to have to do better than a baseless accusation if you think I’m going to admit to anything untoward with Rachel. I’m insulted, in fact.”

  There was a noise on the landing at the top of the stairs and they all looked up. Greta’s white face peered down at them. She started her descent, not taking her eyes off Phil. “What are they saying, Phil?”

  “It’s nothing, love. A misunderstanding, that’s all.”

  “Tell me you weren’t doing something inappropriate with that girl.”

  “I’m telling you. I didn’t do anything inappropriate with Rachel.”

  Clark’s glance at Kala said that this wasn’t how they planned things, but he was willing to let it play out. He pressed on. “Rachel told someone in a position of authority that she was having an affair with you. She said that she was conflicted because you were married, but she believed you were the love of her life.”

  “She was … mistaken.”

  Clark’s denial sounded hollow to Kala. Less assured. She looked at Greta and could see by the stare she had fixed on her husband that she also didn’t believe him.

  “How could you have done such a thing after what you told me was a false accusation two years ago? You assured me that the girl was lying. She’s from a bad home, you said. She’s starving for attention, you said. And I believed you. I was your biggest defender. I convinced everyone that the girl had to be making up a story. I made her out to be a liar and probably ruined her life. Now this? Rachel was your student. She was only fifteen years old when school let out.” Greta put a hand over her mouth. “You corrupted a minor.”

  Phil reached out and grabbed Greta’s arm, but she shook him off and backed onto the bottom step. “I told you what would happen if I ever caught you cheating,” she said through clenched teeth. “I want you out of this house.” She started up the stairs but stopped and turned half-way up. “Oh my God. Did you kill her, too?”

  “No! No!” Phil spread his hands wide and looked at Clark and Kala. His expression was horrified. “All right, I admit that Rachel and I were physical a few times, but I didn’t kill her. I swear to God, I’m not that kind of man.”

  “No, you’re the kind of man who has sex with children. You disgust me.”

  Clark looked up at Greta. “We’re taking Phil to the station for more questioning. I’d appreciate if you came as well to make a statement.” His voice softened. “I’m sorry, Greta.”

  “Can I drive my own car? I don’t want to be in the same vehicle as him.”

  “Of course. Phil will be coming with us.”

  “And you’re welcome to him. I never want to speak to the lying bastard again.”

  Kala had no choice but to drive with Clark and Phil Bocock to the station in Sault Ste. Marie. The drive was a silent one and Phil was hustled off to an interview room upon arrival. Kala made a cup of tea in the small kitchenette and took a seat at the table to wait for her lift back to Pine Hollow. A local cop would be assisting in the interviews, and she was disappointed but happy at the same time to be done for the day. Clark entered the kitchen and tucked away his cellphone when he saw Kala.

  “Everything okay at home?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I was hoping to get out of here early but that’s not going to happen now. Bocock is lawyering up and that’ll slow the process.”

  “If you get the confession, you should have a better week going forward.”

  “One hopes. So do you think he’s our killer?”

  Kala decided to ignore the niggling doubt that she always had before a confession or overwhelming evidence of guilt. This case, more than others, had too many moving parts for her to stand down yet. She didn’t voice any of this to Clark. “He could very well be,” she said, sipping from her mug.

  Clark poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter with his feet crossed at the ankles. “I’ll be interviewing Greta first so that Phil cools his heels and has time to worry about what she’s sharing with us. I’m confident from her reaction that she didn’t know he was having sex with Rachel. Makes me believe that she had no reason to kill the girl.”

  “A good working premise.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I’ve learned to keep all options open until I have conclusive proof to the contrary.”

  “Thomas Faraday probably saw Phil and Rachel together and wanted recompense from Bocock to stay silent. Faraday was a sneaky kind of guy by all accounts. Liked taking photos. He could have a stash somewhere that we haven’t found.”

  “It could have happened that way.”

  Clark laughed. “Cutting me no slack, eh, Stonechild?”

  “Never.” She smiled and tipped her mug in his direction before setting it down. “Looks like you won’t be needing my services much longer.”

  “You can follow Rouleau home to Kingston.”

  “He should be almost there by now.”

  Clark’s eyes studied her face, and she wondered if her voice had sounded wistful. She had a decision to make, and part of her wished that her life hadn’t reached this point while another part wanted to overlook all the negatives and dream of what could be. Her phone rang and interrupted the moment.

  Clark pushed himself forward from the counter. “You take that and I’ll go check on your ride. I’ll come out to the lodge tomorrow morning before you leave for Kingston and fill you in on the Bocock interviews.”

  She glanced at the caller ID and said, “Perfect. Good luck in there.” She held the phone to her ear and watched Clark walk out of the room. “How are you, Dawn?”

  “I’m fine but we miss you, Aunt Kala. When are you coming home?”

  “I’m not sure. The case isn’t over yet and I might be a while. How’s your mom?”

  “She’s doing better. She’s supposed to be out of the hospital this week.”

  “That’s good. We can visit her when I get back.”

  “Gundersund said he’ll take me.” Dawn paused and Kala could picture her thinking, her forehead scrunched up and her lips tight together. “He seems lost these days.”

  Kala closed her eyes. “Tell him … let him know that everything will settle down soon.” A uniformed officer appeared in the doorway. “Look, my ride is here to take me back to Pine Hollow. I need to go. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  “Okay, Aunt Kala.”

  The resignation in her voice stuck with Kala as she walked out of the building and across the parking lot
, and a deep sadness mixed with anger welled up inside of her.

  I’m not your mother, she thought. I never wanted to be anybody’s mother … or wife. I don’t know if I can do this — if I’ll let everyone down because that’s all I know. I should disappear and everyone will be better off.

  She climbed into the passenger seat and put on her sunglasses, turning her head to stare out the side window. She was only too aware what she should do and yet she couldn’t make herself take the next step. The problem, she knew, was that while she waffled and allowed herself to contemplate a good outcome, she was running out of time.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Rouleau could have left Stonechild a note with the information he’d gleaned from Blaine and Petra, but he didn’t trust that somebody would not enter her cabin and read his report. He didn’t fancy driving back to Kingston through the night, but he’d made a quick trip into town to check his messages after Petra and Neal left and found that he was needed urgently back at HQ. So when Stonechild arrived at the supper hour, he’d already stowed his suitcase in his car, and he and Taiku were sitting on the rocks looking out at the choppy lake waiting for her. Taiku spotted Kala first and bounded off to greet her. Rouleau waved but waited in place until she joined him.

  “Couldn’t drag yourself away?” she teased, lowering herself next to him. Her voice turned serious. “Something going on?”

  “I had a talk with Blaine Rogers. Seems Ian was having sex with Petra the night Thomas was killed. Blaine believes that Ian was also having sex with Rachel, but he’s got no proof except that Rachel came knocking at their cabin door looking for Ian about five days before she died. I also had a chat with Petra, whom I found sitting on your dock. She admits to sleeping with Ian and says Shane is angry enough to want out of their marriage, even though it had been an open one up until then. She said that Neal and Martha’s marriage is also on the rocks and implied that Neal was sleeping with Rachel, too. The betrayals are staggering when you add them up.” He lightened his voice. “I had to tell you in person. Too damn unbelievable to put in a note.”

  Stonechild had been listening intently while scratching Taiku behind the ears. She gave his side one last pat and straightened up. “All these extramarital shenanigans could be red herrings. Rachel confessed to Father Vila that she and her English teacher Phil Bocock were having an affair and that he was the love of her life. So we made a trip out to see Bocock and he confessed. It appears his wife Greta knew nothing about what he was up to, although she told us that another female student had put in a complaint a few years ago that had come to nothing.”

  “You believe her?”

  “Yeah, I do. You can’t feign the level of shock and anger she exhibited when she found out.”

  “Could Rachel have been sleeping with Neal and Ian, too?”

  Stonechild’s face was thoughtful. “All that I’ve learned about Rachel, including reading her poetry, tells me that she was a romantic. She was also a lonely, smothered sixteen-year-old girl spreading her wings this summer. She told Father Vila that the married man she was seeing was her soulmate. She might have flirted with other men, but I have a hard time accepting that she slept with them — but of course, I can’t know for certain. Not yet.”

  “Do you and Clark Harrison believe that Phil Bocock killed Rachel and Thomas?”

  “Clark leans that way.”

  “And you?”

  “Maybe. Probably. I’m honestly not sure.”

  He watched her in profile. “You look exhausted,” he said. “Have you been sleeping?”

  She tilted her head from side to side. “Not so much.” She shot him a half smile. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Anything I can help with? I’m a good listener.”

  She appeared to consider his offer before shaking her head. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Well, I’m always here for you.”

  “I know. I value your friendship, Rouleau. You’ve been … well, like the father I never knew. I’ll miss you when you fly off to Paris, but I understand the need to keep moving.”

  “Are you speaking about me or you, Kala?”

  “We’re birds of a feather.”

  He was quiet, thinking about all she was telling him with these few words. He’d known from the moment he met her that she wasn’t someone who could commit easily. Her life had been lonely, devoid of trust. The friendship they shared was deep and lifelong, but not enough to keep her from leaving. She needed to continue searching for the family and the home she’d never had. He’d hoped Gundersund and Dawn and all the friends she’d made in Kingston were that place for her, and learning that they were not enough filled him with sadness — for her and for them. He’d always had trouble letting go of those he loved, but he wouldn’t add to the guilt she must feel over a need that she had no control over. He slapped his hands on his legs before he stood. The wind buffeted against him, cooler than it had been earlier in the day but still pleasant enough. He cleared his throat. “I should be heading out then. Sadly, HQ is calling me back.”

  “I was hoping you were here another day but I’m being selfish. I’ll walk with you.” She stood and Taiku ran ahead of them toward the path. “What about you?” she asked. “Has Marci gone ahead to Paris?”

  “Yes, she’s there now.”

  “When will you follow her?”

  “I’ll visit her for Christmas if she still wants me to, but my life is in Kingston as long as my father is there. I’ve decided to accept the chief’s job when I return. Heath handed in his resignation this week. I’ve yet to break the news to Marci, but I think she knows I’m not moving overseas.” He turned and smiled grimly at her. “We can’t risk any more acting chiefs after the last one.”

  “I honestly thought you’d go with Marci.”

  “I was tempted but I came to realize where I need to be … for now anyway.”

  “The team will be relieved.”

  “I’ve asked Gundersund to apply to head up Major Crimes.”

  “He’ll make a fine staff sergeant.”

  “Are you returning to the force, Stonechild?”

  He wasn’t sure if she’d heard his question because she’d pivoted at the same time he’d asked it and was calling to Taiku. The wind billowed around them and whistled through the trees. He was about to repeat the question, but Stonechild’s closed-off face when she turned back made him think twice. Instead, he grabbed her to him in a bear hug before he got into his car.

  “Take care of yourself,” he said.

  She settled into him for a moment before pulling back. “You, too. Safe home.”

  He drove slowly away from Pine Hollow Lodge, catching sight of Stonechild in the rear-view before he rounded the corner, unhappy to be leaving her behind, not convinced that he’d ever see her again.

  Kala fell asleep on the couch after making a cup of herbal tea. She awoke at eight thirty, and by the time she reached the main lodge, the lights were off and the front door was locked. She kept walking toward her truck, guided by the solar lights along the pathway to the parking lot. Taiku would be fine without her for a few hours.

  The wind had calmed and a thick cloud cover blanketed the sky, preventing moonlight from brightening the gloom. Those living in cities had no idea how black the darkness could be without streetlamps and the light from buildings. There was nothing quite like tilting her head way back and seeing the stars in a half globe overhead on a clear winter night. Kala felt her soul open, staring up at the wide expanse of inky blackness dotted with shimmering stars. Tonight, the overcast skies left her with a sense of desolation not improved by the first drops of rain that snaked down the windshield as she pulled into the Mountainview Lodge parking lot.

  She ran for the restaurant entrance, surprised to find the room alive with the chatter of people and the clinking of dishes. Jenny, the motherly waitress who’d served her on other visits, spotted her in the doorway and motioned for her to take the table against the far wall. Kala gratefully se
ttled in with her back to the room and opened her laptop while she waited for Jenny to deliver a tray-load of soda drinks to a table of talkative teenagers.

  “What’ll it be tonight, Officer?” Jenny asked, appearing at Kala’s side holding a pot of coffee in one hand while sliding a menu onto the table.

  Kala handed back the menu. “I know what I’m craving. The hot roast beef sandwich and seasoned fries and a glass of Clamato juice.”

  “Coming right up.” Jenny took a step away but stopped and looked back. “If you have a minute, Ricky wants to run something past you once you’re done eating.”

  “Ricky?”

  “He helps out in the kitchen sometimes.”

  “Sure. Tell him to come see me when he’s free.”

  “I’ll pass along the message.”

  Kala read emails and had replied to the bulk of them by the time her meal arrived. Clark had sent a brief note saying that Phil Bocock had not confessed to the murders, but he believed it was only a matter of time. Greta had blasted Phil’s alibi for both nights before Clark let her go home. He’d be visiting the Eglans with an update in the morning. It was time to let Pine Hollow Lodge close for the season. He’d already phoned the landline in the Lorrings’ home office and spoken to Martha. Kala typed a quick acknowledgement before putting her head down and tucking in to her dinner, ravenous after the busy day. Jenny reappeared as she took her last bite. Kala leaned back and patted her stomach. She smiled up at Jenny. “I needed that.”

  “You were looking a little peaked when you came in. Glad we cured what was ailing ya. We have blueberry pie tonight if you have room. Wild berries picked fresh yesterday.”

  “I can’t resist. Another cup of lemon tea to go with it, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Kala ate the pie slowly, savouring the sun-ripened berries, smaller than the cultivated ones sold in supermarkets but richer in flavour. She took the last bite as a man who must be Ricky walked toward her from the kitchen. She made a quick assessment: late seventies or early eighties, five foot nine, fifty pounds overweight. Bristly white stubble on his chin and thinning hair combed and gelled back from his forehead. His eyes were watery blue; his smile tentative. “Would this be a good time?” he asked.