by Sky Curtis
“No fingerprints left on this smooth surface,” he said glaring at Cindy. Nonetheless, he held it by the edges and carefully dropped it into a plastic evidence bag that he had taken out from the pocket of his Kevlar vest.
She shrugged. “It was buried in the earth. There’d be no fingerprints on it anyway. Plus, chances are good you would never have found it.”
She was right. That Cindy could dance rings around anyone.
14.
WITH SIGNED STATEMENTS held tightly in hand, Kowalchuk got up and moved through the kitchen to the screen door, followed by Niemchuk and Andrechuk. I watched amazed as Kimberley, her hand slightly cupped, gave Cindy a hidden scrap of paper as she walked by. What was this, grade school? Cindy palmed the note and casually put it in her back pocket. No expression registered on her face.
“Thanks for answering our call, you guys,” I said. “But listen, I’m going to be writing a story about the dangers of entering the woods in the spring and was wondering if I could see the autopsy results, you know, to flesh out the story.” Bad choice of words. Ugh, “flesh.” It made me think of those bones in the woods that had no flesh. On second thought, it also made me think of Ralph.
Kowalchuk looked at me blankly for a second or two. Then, “Sure, sure, no problem. I’ll email it.” I wondered why he’d had to think about it. And I also wondered if he was happily saying the words and had no intention of sending me the information. If so, why not? I knew he wasn’t just being polite.
I rooted through my purse and handed him a fairly unstained business card with my email address on it. I brushed off the crumbs on its journey towards his baseball mitt of a hand. Those damn peanut butter Ritz crackers I’d thrown into my bag a year ago kept surfacing. The gift that kept giving.
He took the card, while saying, “I already have your contact information Robin, you gave it to me in your statement a minute ago.” He looked behind me to Cindy. “And I have yours too, Cindy, in case Andrechuk here should need it.”
Huh? So, he had noticed. The guy didn’t miss a trick.
The screen door thunked shut behind them. What an ordeal that was. But I wanted to know what the note said. “So, what did she write you?”
“Who?” Cindy did innocence with aplomb.
“Don’t play that game with me, missy. Read me the note that Kimberley gave you.”
She frowned at my “missy” and took the note out of her back pocket, slowly unfolded it while looking at me, slowly read it, and then slowly read it aloud, “Meet me at the town dock for pizza tonight. I’m off at six.”
I high-fived her. “A date! You have a date!”
Cindy looked doubtful. “Should I go?”
“What? Of course you should go. She’s so cute. And what a fabulous voice. I wonder if she sings? You know, in a band or something, as a hobby.”
“Do you mind? It would mean you’ll be here alone.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
“It’s been a pretty rough day, Robin. I can always go another time.”
I wasn’t sure about that. I thought Andrechuk was a little skittish, and if rejected on the first go around, she might not be receptive to an alternative plan. But Cindy was right. I didn’t want to be alone. Maybe there was a compromise. “You’re right, I don’t want to be here alone in the dark. Maybe you could have some pizza with her, get to know her a bit, and then come back before it’s pitch-black out.”
“Yeah, that’s better for me anyway. I’m not too sure it would work out between us. She’s a lot younger than I am, although I am pretty attracted to her.”
“Really?”
“Was it obvious?”
“Duh. Your tongue was hanging out a foot.”
“My tongue wasn’t hanging out.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I’m a sophisticated North Toronto matron. My tongue never hangs out.”
My phone rang again. I retorted, “Saved by the bell.”
I read the screen. Ralph again. What did he want? “Hi, sweetie,” I said. He did say he loved me. I had to give him something back, if only a term of endearment.
“I finished up,” he sounded excited. “Sooner than I expected! If I left now, I could be there before dark. What do you say?”
I hesitated, perhaps a bit too long. Did I want him to come? I was over my damsel-in-distress act.
He was hurt. “If you don’t want me to come, that’s okay. I have plenty to do here.”
“No, I want you to come. Right now. It would be great if you came now. Way better than tomorrow morning. Or in a few days. That’s the only reason why I had to think about it. It took a minute for my mind to adjust to the change in plans.”
When did I learn how to lie? Cindy warned me months ago that if I became a crime reporter I would learn how to lie. It was not a skill I coveted. The truth was way better. I enjoyed Ralph, he was a good friend with benefits, and I was happy to benefit from them, but I would have to talk to him about his emotional availability. I wasn’t going to put up with a shallow relationship.
“Great. I’ll leave in about half an hour, so I should be there by seven-thirty. Maybe we could have dinner together. I’ll pick something up on my way through town. Some of that chicken that we had before.”
“And fries,” I said, my mouth already watering. Ralph didn’t seem to mind my few extra pounds. A few? Oh, how I loved a euphemism.
“Sounds good,” he laughed. “And I’ll bring some wine.”
“No whining here,” I said, keeping up with his mood. “But you don’t need to bring any. Andrew had a cocktail party here about a month ago and there’s quite a lot of alcohol left over. He may be many things, but stingy is not one of them. Plus, I brought some.” Yeah, a steamer trunk full. I had told Ralph a bit about my entitled brother and how I felt about him.
He laughed again, his good humour completely restored. “See you soon. Bye.”
He hung up without waiting for my reply. Really? I looked at my phone and tapped the end button. That was one of the problems with the relationship. It was all about him. Was I right about that? Probably not. Was I too picky? I was too something, that’s for sure. Robin, figure it out.
I thought back to my excitement eight months ago when our relationship had started. My husband Trevor had been killed by a drunk driver, and it had been a while, a long while, since I’d been with anyone. The first few months of dating Ralph had been thrilling, right down to the you-know-what. It was such an exhilarating time after being so heavily burdened with bringing up the kids, taking care of the pets, and paying off the mortgage. During those months after Trevor’s death, I had become an old and fat alcoholic. I felt I was a failure in my career, plus I was all alone. I remembered the day, somewhat over half a year ago, when I had had an epiphany: I had become old, fat, an alcoholic, a failure, and all alone. The problem was, out of the five issues, only two were gone. I was still old. Nothing I could do about that oh so attractive crepe paper skin. I was still fat, which I could do something about but hadn’t, and I still drank, which I also could do something about, but hadn’t. I was no longer alone, though, Ralph had been a good antidote to that. And I wasn’t such a failure. I had been on the front page of the paper. And now I still wasn’t such a failure as it looked like I was heading that way again. But really, my score was just two out of five.
“Who was that?” Cindy batted her eyelashes at me and jolted me out of my daydream She knew who it was.
“Ralph. He says he’s going to come up tonight. In fact, he’ll be here by dinner time. Before dark. He’s leaving Toronto about now. So, you’re off the hook. You can stay out as late as you want with Kimberley.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I ignored her. “It’s perfect, isn’t it? You can go have fun and Ralph and I can have fun.” I wasn’t sure about that for either of us.
Cindy picked up on
my mood. “I know you’ve been having some doubts about Ralph, and I really don’t know about this Kimberley, but let’s see how it all unfolds. You never know. Maybe we’ll both have a great time.”
“Yeah, right.”
“No, be positive. Maybe we will.”
“Listen, I thought Ralph was camera shy, you know, after that ugly divorce. And I thought that he was reserved. An introvert. But now I’m wondering if it isn’t emotional baggage that keeps him unavailable. Or maybe he’s just shallow.”
“Most men are.” Cindy really didn’t like guys.
“No, Cindy, they’re not all like that.”
“Okay, maybe not shallow. Maybe they’re just predictable. Plus, they’re all mama’s boys.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Okay, maybe not they’re not all mama’s boys. Maybe they’re all stupid.”
“No, they’re not.”
With a stalemate hovering between us, Cindy changed tack. “Do you think Kowalchuk will actually give us the autopsy report?”
“I sensed he had no intention of emailing it to me. But it doesn’t matter now if he does or doesn’t. Ralph will get it for me.”
“See, men do have some uses.”
“Be fair, Cindy. He has plenty of uses.”
“Right, he can take care of your plumbing and headlights.” With that, she flounced upstairs. “I’m going to get ready for my datelette on the town dock.”
I supposed I had better change into something that didn’t have squashed blackfly juice on it and followed her up the stairs. I needed a shower badly. I was covered in dirt.
An hour later, Cindy left for her date and I waited on the couch with Lucky for Ralph to arrive, running my fingers through my damp hair, trying to give it more volume. I wondered where our relationship was going. Was Cindy right? That men were shallow mama’s boys who were somewhat stupid? Or was he a really smart guy who had hidden depths? Was he a stepping stone? Was he my toy boy? No, I meant boy toy. Or did that apply to much younger men? I’d have to ask one of my kids. No, I had better not. Then they would know. I had kept most of the details of my relationship with Ralph secret from them. They knew I was dating, and they knew the guy’s name was Ralph, but they didn’t know he was a cop, that he’d saved my life, and that I really liked him. Wait. Did I actually think that?
There it was. I really liked him. Maybe I was frustrated because I couldn’t decide if he was a keeper. I was out of practise when it came to dating. He had told me he loved me. But did he? Or was that a long-ago habit of saying “I love you” at the end of a phone call? Did I love him? I guess that was the question. Not that he was shallow or stupid or a toy boy. Boy toy. Whatever. I wish he’d get here so I could have a drink. Maybe I’d have one anyway. Now there was a plan.
I cracked open a cold bottle of white and took a shining glass out of the very clean cupboard. I should have Andrew come clean my house. As I was pouring the wine I heard a scrunch of gravel. A car was coming up the driveway. Ralph? That was fast. He must have driven like a maniac. Or maybe he had called me while on the road, assuming his arrival was going to be fine. Yes, that was it. He should have said so. I really didn’t like subterfuge. But I was a fine one to talk. I watched through the dining-room window, wineglass in hand, as he walked up the driveway, suitcase in one hand and a bag of takeout chicken in the other. God, he was so handsome. Tall, mostly dark hair, and he moved like a dancer. My eyes strayed over his lean form, took in the ropey chest muscles bulging through his T-shirt and landed squarely at his crotch. Oops. But I kept looking. My heart built up speed and I knew, in that moment, that no matter what else was going on between us, some things about the relationship were great. I made it into the kitchen when Lucky started barking at the door, tail wagging. What a litmus test that dog was. If Ralph was okay by Lucky, he was okay by me. The screen door squeaked as he pulled it open.
He planted a big kiss on my lips and then started unpacking the goodies. “It’s so good to see you. Let’s eat before we do anything interesting.
“You must have called me from the road. You knew I wanted to see you. All of you.” I patted his bum.
“Yup. I’m famished. As hungry as a bear. I could eat you all up.” He laughed, but looking at my face he knew he’d hit a sore spot. “Sorry. Driving makes me so hungry.”
Everything made me hungry. “Me too.” The idea of him eating me presented a tough choice. Dinner for two, or dinner for him only. “We have a lot in common, big boy. Driving makes me hungry too.” I put a hand on his crotch. “But after what I saw today, I’m not sure the bear analogy would put me in the mood.” Although, strangely, it did. All that shining fur. That strong and fluid movement. How sick was that? I needed therapy. No, maybe I was normal. Wasn’t it Marian Engel who wrote a famous book that won some literary award about a woman making love to a bear? No one said she needed therapy.
“Later. Let’s eat. I see you’ve started on a bottle of wine. I brought more, in case.” He started divvying up the chicken onto two plates. Such a chef.
The bottle of white was pretty much a third gone. There were really big glasses at the cottage. Small jugs, if I had to be specific. “Here, let me pour you a glass.”
“Thanks.”
He carried the plates and I took the two glasses of wine with the bottle tucked under my arm to the table.
“Where’s Cindy?”
“She fell in love with one of the cops today and they’ve got a pizza date on the town dock.”
“So, she’s not here? Perfect.”
Sometimes she really bugged him.
I had stuffed some deliciously moist chicken into my mouth. “Hey, this is really good, where did you get it?”
“Wing and a Prayer. In town.”
“That chicken place run by the ex-minister?”
“Yup.” He swallowed. “I also called Kowalchuk from the car after I called you to let him know I was coming. You know, foreign cop on local territory and all that. A courtesy call. He’s a nice enough guy. Huge, if I recall.”
“Still is. Seems shrewd. A pretty good cop.” Plus an arrogant prick. But the fries were crispy and steaming.
“Don’t cross him. He can be ruthless.”
“I got the sense of that.”
“Anyway, he gave me the preliminary autopsy results and told me to tell you.”
“Already? I can’t believe it. They must have a good budget for things to happen that quickly. The body must have just been delivered, and in the last hour of the day as well.”
“It’s only a preliminary report. It’s easy to tell right off the bat if a body is male or female. Pelvis measurements. I know you thought it was a male, but the body belongs to a woman.” He looked at me to gauge my reaction.
“A female?” The chicken got lodged in my throat. I croaked, “But that couldn’t be right. The coroner is wrong. There was a Carhartt jacket. Brown. A style that doesn’t do up around the hips of a woman. It’s a man’s jacket. And there was no long hair anywhere. Not on the skull, not lying around the head. Plus, there was a clipboard.”
“Women carry clipboards.”
He was right.
“And they can have short hair.”
He was right about that, too.
“And many women wear men’s clothing, you know, to be funky. And thin women can wear men’s jackets.”
Funky? Now there was a word I hadn’t heard in several decades. I think I was wearing baggy plaid pants the last time someone used the word funky. But he was right about all of that.
“You’re right. Sometimes I wear a man’s dress shirt to bed.”
The lines around his eyes deepened as he smiled. “After you take it off me.”
My thoughts wandered to taking a shirt off Ralph and then, with heroic effort, I tugged them back to this odd news. “A female.” I let that sink in. “An
y idea who?” I didn’t expect an answer. It was too early for an identification.
“Darlene Gibson.”
I was surprised he knew the answer to this. The name sounded familiar. I forked in a serving of coleslaw. It was tangy and sweet. “Why does that name sound so familiar? And how did they identify the person so quickly? The bones were scattered all over the place.”
Ralph gulped some wine. “The ring. There was an inscription that read ‘For Darlene.’ That plus her father had reported her missing about a month ago. That tallied with the condition of the body. They’re going to do some dental matching to confirm the identity.”
“But why does the name ring a bell?” I put the emphasis on the word “ring.” It was my attempt to make Ralph smile again. He didn’t. Was that because it wasn’t about him? Or maybe the thought of “rings” made him nervous.
“She was in the news about six months ago. The Toronto Express did a piece on her. I think Cindy wrote it. Sexual assault case against that Toronto actor, David Sparling. Not guilty. Remember?”
Did I ever. It was a fiasco. The guy had clearly been guilty. “Did I read something about a lawsuit?”
“Yes, I think she was suing him.”
Ralph picked up a chicken leg and was gnawing away, giving it a good once-over. He put the bone in his mouth and pulled it out slowly, his eyebrows raised. That guy.
15.
AFTER DINNER, while I was washing the dishes and Ralph was beside me drying, I brought up the subject of the bear again. “Ralph,” I asked, “have you ever heard of a bear attacking a person for no reason?”
“Not really, but I think it does happen.” He wiped a dish slowly, thinking, “Well, there’s probably a statistic on that. Once these dishes are done, let’s look it up.” He nuzzled the back of my neck.
I nudged my elbow into his ribs. “Stop it, I’m working here.”
“And I’m a hungry bear and I’m going to attack you,” he growled. I could feel his breath on my cheek and something on my lower cheek as he shuffled his feet so that his body was closer to mine. He put his arms around my waist. I could feel all his benefits pressing against my body.