Plots

by Sky Curtis

  “I’ll ask Ralph to get Kowalchuk to investigate what we discovered on the phone.”

  Cindy waggled her head back and forth and imitated me in a singsong voice, “I’ll ask Ralph to get Kowalchuk blah blah blah.”

  “Okay, okay, you’re right. The boys have lost their chance. We will take this on. First thing I’m going to do when we get back to the cottage is smell that garbage can. I bet it’s clean as a whistle. But someone is doing something to the bears to make them crazy. And I’m going to find out what it is.”

  “Beep the doors,” Cindy said as she approached the car.

  “They don’t beep. That feature died.”

  “What, you can’t lock your car? You’ve left it here in the lot unlocked, all this time?”

  “It’s a police station.”

  “Criminals hang around police stations, Robin. Duh.”

  “I can lock it manually, but not with the key fob. The power locks are no longer.”

  “You should get that fixed. It’s a safety feature.”

  Cindy folded her long legs into the car and hitched the seat back as far as it would go. She needed to stretch out. I heard the mechanism scraping as it slid back, metal against metal, when I opened my door to get in.

  We drove along in silence to the first set of lights through the town and then I said, “You hungry?”

  Cindy said, “Ralph. Beer. Dinner.”

  “An appetizer? Like some fries from the drive-through?”

  “Oh, all right. After we pick up what we need for the evening.”

  “No, before.”

  Cindy and I squabbled a lot.

  23.

  THE SETTING SUN CAST long shadows that criss-crossed the driveway as we crunched up the gravel toward Pair o’ Dice. We were surly and fighting after our horrendous meeting with Kowalchuk. Cindy and I had had a spat about what to get for dinner that would make fighting cats proud. In the end, we decided that instead of buying food to cook we would pick up some curry takeout from the local Thai restaurant, The Purple Elephant. The smell of coriander and lime floated over the smell of wet dog in the car. It made me feel a little sick. I wasn’t a fan of Thai food, but I didn’t want to admit it because that would make me look uncool. Cool people liked Thai food. And sushi. I hated sushi. And dumplings. Slimy, boiled snot. I was so uncool I should just wear a fur coat and let someone put me out of my uncool misery.

  Ralph must have been watching for us because as soon as we parked, he appeared at the screen door. Lucky was yipping at the handle, as if his bark was a remote control, and Ralph opened the screen to let him out to greet us. Sharp needles of annoyance prickled the underside of my skin as he bounded to the car. Didn’t I tell him not to let the dog out? There was a fucking bear roaming around. The last thing I needed was Lucky heading into the woods, chasing a bear. I hurriedly got out of the car and grabbed his collar as he leapt at me, tongue hanging out, leaving Cindy to carry in the beer and brown bag of takeout.

  Hunched over, with my hand grasping his collar, I walked to the house. Lucky was dancing on all fours and straining my arm. I yelled, “There’s a demented bear out here. Why did you let him out?”

  He stared at me with steely blue eyes while he held the door open for me. “Someone’s in a good mood.”

  Fuck that tone.

  “Did you remember the beer?”

  “Can’t go a night without your beer, can you.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  “Did you tell Kowalchuk that I was fond of the bottle?”

  “We were discussing life.”

  “Keep my life out of your conversations.”

  Pain flittered in his eyes. He looked away. “Hey Cindy, can I help you?” He reached his hand out to take the case of beer from her as she passed him into the cottage.

  “I’m okay, thanks.” Cindy stalked past him and plunked the beer on the kitchen counter.

  Ralph let go of the screen door and spread his hands. “Okay-y-y. How did the town trip go? I’m thinking not that well.”

  I was throwing dishes onto the table, marching back and forth between the kitchen and the table. “We can talk over dinner.” I held up the bag. “Thai.”

  “You don’t like Thai.”

  “It’s dinner.”

  Lucky was on his bed in the corner of the living room, wisely staying out of my way. But when he heard the word “dinner” he jumped up and ran to me. I absent-mindedly patted him. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you your food. Poor doggy. You can’t run outside.” I patted his silky ears. “We don’t want that big bad bear to get you.” I looked pointedly at Ralph while I said all this. Nothing like a little passive aggression. He ignored me. But then, I suddenly remembered the garbage can. I wanted to smell it and see what was so interesting to the bear.

  I slipped around Cindy who was dishing the curry into bowls in the kitchen. “I’m going to check out the garbage can. See why the bear was trying to kill it.”

  I could barely see in the fading light, but to the right of the steps below the porch was the can, right where Ralph had placed it after the bear’s calisthenics. I undid the handles that snapped over the lid to hold it in place and carefully lifted it off, my eyes peering into the forest, my ears on high alert, pinned back against my head. Emanating from the can was a slight odour, one that I vaguely recognized from my recent memory, but I couldn’t recall what it was. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw at the bottom of the can, the empty bottle of insect repellent that Niemchuk had tossed there. Oh, that was the smell. Other than that, the container was empty. As I had said to Kowalchuk at the station, the container was pristine. There wasn’t a crumb of food. You could eat off of it. And the bear was trying to.

  Cindy’s tall, lithe figure was silhouetted in the screen door’s square of light. “Clean?” she called out.

  “Nothing. Not a morsel of food. Only that finished bottle of insect repellent that Niemchuk used. You know, the one we found in the woods.” I lifted up the whole garbage can and gave it a shake so she could hear the bottle rattling around in the bottom.

  “Kowalchuk is an asshole.”

  She was right. That he was. Over dinner, I stuffed the Thai food in my mouth like a robot. The rice was dry and the always surprising bits of chili in the inadequate supply of curried chicken would haunt me all night long. I wished we’d ordered pizza or even fried chicken. But no, Cindy wanted to be urban. Huntsville didn’t do urban off-season. Maybe in a month when the population exploded with summer residents there would be fresher food. The three of us sat at one end of the large harvest table and ate in silence, looking down at our plates. At least no one had brought out their phone. I’d had enough of phones for one day. The quiet was punctuated by the sound of silverware clinking against dishes and the rattling of Lucky’s kibble as he nosed around the flotsam for the tastier bits. The tension in the air was so thick you’d need a nuclear missile to blast through it. I was so pissed off at Ralph badmouthing me in public I couldn’t even look at him. I wish he’d leave. Finally, he threw down his napkin.

  “Look. I know you’re angry. Obviously what I told Kowalchuk at lunch was used against you. I shouldn’t have said anything about your personal life to him. Yes, I told him you liked your wine. But there are two sides to every story. I thought he was a compassionate and trustworthy guy. I didn’t know he’d turn the information into a weapon. I misjudged him. We were talking about issues we were dealing with. His, obviously, is weight. Mine, just as obviously, is alcohol. Your wine drinking came up, but only because I said I didn’t know if you thought my drinking was a problem because you enjoyed drinking as well. I wasn’t gossiping. I was trying to figure out the problem.” He let out a long sigh and spread his arms wide. His chest deflated.

  Cindy said, “Pass the hot sauce.”

  I was flabbergasted. Ralph knew he had a drinking problem? Plus, he ha
dn’t told Kowalchuk about my drinking to bad mouth me at all. He was exposing himself. But now that I’d had that encounter with Kowalchuk and seen his nasty side, I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea for Ralph to tell him such an intimate detail about himself. Even though they were in completely separate jurisdictions, word got around. The police force in general was a small community full of blabbermouths. I didn’t want Ralph to get a bad reputation as an unreliable cop because he might be tipsy. And that Kowalchuk, man oh man, he would do anything to win.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Okay? So, I’m forgiven?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said ‘okay.’”

  Cindy piped up, “And I said, ‘Pass the hot sauce.’”

  I handed it to her. “You didn’t say, ‘please.’”

  “Pulleezzzee.” She rolled her eyes.

  “What do I have to do to be forgiven?” He looked so remorseful. I thought I even detected a tear. What? The big bad cop was crying over spilt milk? Probably not.

  I winked at him. Cindy kicked me under the table. Ralph’s face uncrumpled. It was time to move on.

  Cindy said, “The handing in of the phone wasn’t a raging success.”

  I butted in. “Darlene’s case has been closed. I doubt Kowalchuk even looked into the idea that she was murdered elsewhere and her body dumped in the forest with the hope that an animal might eat up the evidence.”

  “Really? He said he would.” Ralph had parked his dry curry inside his cheek. But I could see it. I’d talk to him about that later. Maybe when his tongue was in cheek. My cheek.

  “Well, I don’t think he did. The case was closed at two o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Two o’clock? I left him at one forty-five. He said he’d investigate it. Who told you two o’clock?”

  And now Cindy was talking with her mouth full. I was going to gag. Next thing you know they’d be licking their knives. “The youngster behind the Plexiglas. There’s a real attitude in that cop shop. Anti-gay. Misogynistic. Territorial. Close-minded. A bunch of fucking assholes.”

  Ralph looked at me for confirmation.

  “Yeah,” I said. “They snickered when we left.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” He looked like he was apologizing for all cops everywhere. “What exactly did Kowalchuk say?”

  “Basically, he said that the investigation was closed. That there weren’t any suspects. That a really hungry bear, quote unquote, attacked Darlene. That he wasn’t going to do anything more about it.”

  “Did you let him know you were journalists?”

  “He wasn’t impressed. Especially since he knows I work for the Home and Garden section.”

  Ralph tilted his head on a slant. “But not all the time.”

  “He wasn’t interested. Cindy told him all about Everwave, but then the snickering started. She called him fatso.”

  He laughed. “Well, that probably upset him more than anything else she could’ve said, unless of course he was lying to me about worrying about his weight. Maybe he was trying to find out dirt about me, so he could use it somehow.”

  “I think that’s more likely, Ralph.” Cindy was squirting hot sauce over her whole plate. “Plus, it’s obvious that he has a short penis.”

  Ralph choked on his food, but then recovered, saying blandly, “Oh? Short penis?”

  “Yes, I have a short penis theory. He’s one of those cops with a short penis. He needs to act big and to break the rules to get where he wants to get.”

  “I’ve never heard the short penis theory before.” Ralph was all ears.

  “Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “I think when guys have short penises they have to puff out their chests and abuse their power. Like this Kowalchuk asshole? While Robin was talking to him, he put his hand on his gun to intimidate her. Any guy with a decent-sized penis wouldn’t do that. They wouldn’t feel the need to act like a bully because they wouldn’t feel the need to overpower. They would want the truth and they would want to get to it without threatening someone. Like you, Ralph. You don’t have a short penis.”

  Oh my God. Did she really say that? I mean, I knew it was true, was it ever, but still, commenting on my boyfriend’s penis? How embarrassing. I stuffed a forkful of rice in my mouth as if nothing had been said. Not many people would talk about the length of a person’s penis. Yet here she was, eating her food like it was nothing. It was more than a little disconcerting and yet her short penis theory was interesting. I was surprised that my best friend had kept her short penis theory from me. Maybe that’s why she didn’t feel threatened by Kowalchuk when he put his hand on his gun. She had distance. She had knowledge. She had power. She knew what was in his pants. A short penis!

  “Ah-h-h,” Ralph spluttered. “Thank you. I guess.”

  Cindy looked up from her plate. “Anytime, big guy.”

  Geezus. I pushed myself away from the table. “Dessert anyone? We have ice cream. Maple walnut.”

  “Sure,” said Ralph, “that should cool things down a bit.” He looked deliberately at Cindy. A secret smile played around the left corner of her mouth. “And then maybe after dinner we can talk about what was on Darlene’s phone. I’m sure you had a good look.”

  “We even took some pictures,” I said. “Screenshots of some emails and a comment on her Facebook page. They’ll prove a lot.” I counted on my fingers as I stood at the head of the table. “One, Sparling knew her in the biblical sense, despite saying under oath that he only had a professional relationship with her. Two, I think members of her family had reason to want her dead. And three,” I bent back the third finger, “there is a militant animal rights group that wanted her dead. So, three potential suspects from her media alone. Maybe someone else did it. Like Worthington. He threatened to kill whoever took away his hunting ground. I mentioned him before, Ralph. That makes four suspects. We have to figure out which one did it.”

  Ralph handed me his empty plate and said, “Well, actually, we have to figure out how they did it. I’m sure the autopsy won’t reveal anything from her remains. They’ve been too chewed up. Any knife nicks or even bullet grazes will be masked by the bite marks.”

  As I swooped Cindy’s plate from under her, she scraped off a last forkful of curry and smacked her lips around it before tossing the utensil on the plate in my hand. “You’re still working on the idea she was murdered elsewhere and then left in the woods? Sorry to disappoint you, Biggy, but the bear did it.”

  Biggy?

  “You can’t make a bear do anything.”

  “That’s what Kowalchuk said. Robin and I know differently. That bear was manipulated to kill Darlene.”

  “How?”

  “That’s the question.”

  After eating ice cream, we all huddled around my phone on the couch, looking at the screenshots Cindy had taken of Darlene’s emails and Facebook page. Lucky growled periodically from the chair he had taken over and I hoped it wasn’t at a wild bear. Were they nocturnal? No. It was probably just the wind. Ralph went over and scratched behind his ears to calm him down. He was so good with Lucky. Anyone who loved animals was okay by me. And that apology of his today was so heartfelt. He really was remorseful. How did I really feel about him? Was he the one with intimacy barriers, or was it me? Was I still recovering from Trevor? Or maybe it was from stuff in my childhood. So much baggage. I couldn’t even handle an “I love you.” I kept lifting the glass of wine to my lips and taking big gulps. Why was I even drinking? What was I hiding from? Ralph? Me? My past? My future?

  Ralph rubbed his hand over his forehead, sweeping his hair out of his eyes. He was tired. “I can see why you think there are four suspects. Sparling. The animal rights group. Someone in her family. Worthington. I still think she was murdered elsewhere and then dumped. If she was murdered, that is. I looked at the place where she was found and there isn’t any blood around. You’d think there
’d be lots of it.”

  Cindy acted impressed. “You’re right, Ralph. Why didn’t I think of that? Maybe it wasn’t from the bear attack that there was that large bloodstain on the back of her jacket.”

  He snapped back. “We don’t know that it was blood in the jacket. The results haven’t come back from the lab yet. And I was talking about blood on the ground. There wasn’t any.”

  I said, “Rain.” I thumbed through google and found the chart I was looking for. “Look.” I held my phone up for everyone to see. “There was a record amount of rain in the last two weeks of April, the first week of May. Two huge storms with over a total of two hundred centimetres.”

  “How did you think of that?”

  “The driveway had washed out and we had to repair it before Andrew’s party. He called me for a contribution to the repair.”

  Ralph said, “And now that the case is closed, Kowalchuk won’t bring in forensics for trace.” He yawned. “I have to go to bed.” He looked at me, and said, “Coming?”

  Cindy laughed. “Not yet.”

  Such a dirty mind.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “I’m done. Let’s tackle this in the morning.”

  Ralph and I snuggled a bit until his deep breaths floated in and out of his chest. He was dead to the world. There was no way I could fall asleep. I tossed this way and that, trying not to bounce on the mattress with my enormous weight. I dozed off, thinking of how I believed I wasn’t worthy and comparing myself to Cindy and her short penis theory. She had power. She had it figured out. She was worthy. My mind drifted. Kowalchuk’s gun. Hunting. The bear charging. I was garbage. The word “unworthy” travelled across my mind, over and over. Unworthy. Unworthy. Worthington. The neighbour. The guy who hunted and had bought new gear for next fall. The guy who had bought bear bait and a great big knife. What a creep.