Plots

by Sky Curtis

  Wait? Did I say “two?” Was Ralph now a friend as well as a lover? I’d have to think about that. And Cindy? She drove me fucking nuts. Taking risks and telling me what to do. But she was such a support and I loved her. I gave her a smile and she smiled back. Hard to imagine that a day ago, we had witnessed a truly violent act of a bear attacking a person. Cindy had been so kind to me, with the blanket and the tea. And poor Darlene. Poor, poor Darlene. Her final moments must have been horrible.

  “Holy shit.”

  I jerked my head toward Ralph. He never swore. Never. He said cops can’t swear on the job and he had gotten out of the habit. Me? Journalists swore all the fucking time. Whatever he read must be big. “What have you found?”

  “I guess the two of you didn’t look at Darlene’s most recent emails. You did a random sampling?”

  “That’s right.” Cindy was on the edge of her chair, leaning forward. She didn’t like not being perfect. Me? I didn’t give a rat’s ass. I was never perfect. Unless I was drunk, and then I was perfect all the time.

  “Why Ralph, what did you find?” I was so curious.

  He leaned back in his chair. “Her very last email to Dave Sparling. Let me read the whole thread to you, starting from the beginning.” He leaned forward, tapped the tiny screen to open the email, and then scrolled through to the bottom. “This is from her to him. Hi, Tiger.” Ralph looked up at us. “Hi, Tiger, he read again, sorry about that court business, my family made me. But I didn’t let on that we were an item. No one saw your emails. So, don’t worry about evidence for the civil suit either. I’ve missed you so badly. I had to move to Huntsville,, but I was wondering if you could come up and we could meet, you know, in secret, like we used to. Love, your pussycat. That sure sounds to me like she loved him. Looks like he’s off the hook as far as a suspect goes.”

  Cindy fiery temper was unleashed. “Are you crazy? Even if she did love him that doesn’t mean he loved her. He was probably using her. Famous stage star? Lowly set designer? A classic abuse of power. Plus, you don’t know if she loved him. Maybe she thought she was in love with him. Maybe she was actually terrified of him because of things he’d done to her. Fear and love are easy to confuse. They’re both strong emotions. We know nothing. Or maybe she was luring him here, so she could confront him. Who knows. We can’t ask her. She’s dead.”

  That was quite the speech from my politically active friend. But maybe I disagreed with both of them. Maybe she was luring him to Huntsville to get more evidence, not relying just on the emails in her personal phone for her civil suit. It was interesting that she said there was no evidence against him. That was a flat-out lie. “Read his reply, Ralph,” I said.

  He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and looked at Cindy before he started to read again. “My dear little kitten, I’d love to see you. I understand from friends that you’re working for the town, measuring plots in the wilderness. Maybe we could walk in the woods. I’ll bring a blanket for us to lie on. I have to be in Huntsville on Saturday to go to a party on Peninsula Lake. Love, Tiger Boy. Any comments?”

  Fear was prickling my skin. The only party I knew about on Peninsula Lake was my brother’s annual bash, the first Saturday in May. “My brother has an annual party on the first weekend of May every year. Sparling was invited this year.” I saw Ralph’s puzzled glance. “He manages Sparling’s money,” I said by way of an explanation. “So, he was here, and I guess he met her then.”

  Cindy was clicking her long nails on the table. She was thinking. “This doesn’t mean he killed her. There are other suspects. Someone in her family. Ursula Major.”

  I piped up. “And don’t forget creepy Dick Worthington. He insinuated he would kill anyone who came between him and his hunting ground. He lived in her neighbourhood. He had motive. He had opportunity.”

  Ralph looked at me, taking it all in. “Let me read you her reply to him.” He sat forward and found his place on the phone. “Okay, here it is. I can’t wait to see you! You’re talking about Andrew MacFarland’s party, right? I’ll be working right next door that Saturday, overtime, measuring plots. Why don’t we meet in town at the Swiss Chalet at 12:30 and then head out there for a walk in the woods? I can show you how I do my new job!”

  I was holding my breath. Had my brother somehow been involved in this murder? “What did he say?”

  “Hi Puss in Boots, won’t people recognize me there? Do you know a more out-of-the-way place?” Ralph looked up at us, then continued. “And she replied, This is Huntsville before tourist season. No one would recognize you. I’ll wear my boots. Puss.”

  Ralph knew I was having difficulty and gave me the sweetest smile. It didn’t calm me down. This was terrible. He said, “Just because they met didn’t mean he killed her, Robin. There are three other suspects.”

  Cindy nodded in agreement.

  I whispered, “What did he say, Ralph?”

  He grimaced and then read, “He wrote, Meow. Swiss Chalet it is. Bring your computer so you can show me all the places you work while we eat. And then a lovely walk. Don’t forget your phone so we can text each other if we get separated in the woods. We can lie down on my blanket under the trees. It’ll be buggy but I would love to lie down in the woods with you and have some fun. Bring your insect repellent! I can’t wait to eat you all up. The tiger is as hungry as a bear.”

  “The guy’s a sicko,” I said. I felt like throwing up.

  25.

  “WELL, THAT KINDA sews it up,” I said.

  “Not really,” said Ralph. “I say ‘hungry as a bear’ sometimes too. It’s a common idiom.”

  “And no,” agreed Cindy. “No, it doesn’t sew it up.” Cindy spoke as if she was correcting a toddler. Sometimes, she really did drive me fucking nuts. I felt like they were ganging up on me.

  “Not really,” she said, probably because she had caught my look. “Simply because he had motive and opportunity doesn’t mean he did it. I mean, you have to admit, it is pretty incriminating. But I think we should research Ursula Major, find out where they’re located, see if they had any opportunity. Plus, there’s Worthington to consider. And of course, we need to talk to Sandra and Harry.”

  Ralph asked, “Who are Sandra and Harry?”

  “Her weird parents,” she replied.

  “Okay, well why don’t you two research the Ursula crowd, talk to the parents and Worthington, and get back to me.”

  “Actually, why don’t you get the contents of that bottle analyzed and get back to us?”

  There was always a power struggle between those two.

  Ralph shook his head, put the phone on the table, and said as he was walking to the stairs, “I have to get packed. I need to be in the city by four o’clock to get this to the lab and to see my kids for dinner. I made a Thursday night plan with them weeks ago.”

  I didn’t blame him for wanting to get back to Toronto. He and Cindy just didn’t see eye to eye. “I’m going to be heading home in a few days, so I’ll see you soon,” I called up the stairs after him. No answer. Maybe he didn’t hear me.

  Cindy said, “Once we talk to the parents and Worthington, there really isn’t much more to do around here. That Kowalchuk is a piece of work and Andrechuk and I would never be an item. She’s way not my type. But maybe you and I will have fun. With the blackflies.”

  Cindy looked a little wistful as she said this. I tried to console her. “I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you to find a partner, Cindy. But don’t worry, someone will come along who you’ll find completely charming.”

  “Right,” she said briskly. “Do you want to go to the Gibson’s now, before lunch?”

  She was asking me, not telling? Well, wasn’t that different. “Sure, I’ll get myself together.” I headed to the stairs as Ralph was coming down, his overnight bag clutched in his hand. “See you soon, sweetheart,” I said. I knew that a “
sweetheart” didn’t quite match the L- word. But it was the best I could do.

  He stopped at the bottom of the stairs in front of me. “This hasn’t been the greatest visit, has it?” He took my face in his hand and tilted it so that he could kiss me. He whispered in my ear, “I do love you, you know. We will work out this drinking problem together.”

  Every time he said the L-word my innards cringed. How did I feel about him? I really didn’t know. I stuttered, “Sure we will. We can talk about it later,” and then I croaked, “honey.”

  One evening, after I’d had a few drinks.

  He kissed me again at the bottom of the stairs and I could feel his body pressing against mine. Naturally, I pressed back. And there it was, that zing again. “See you later, alligator.”

  I stroked his bum and said, “Safe trip” over my shoulder as I climbed the stairs.

  When I came down all spruced up, I could see Cindy playing with Lucky off-leash in the yard. She was tossing him a ball. I paused for a minute as I watched them through the window over the couch. She was laughing at him gamboling around and he had his tongue hanging out with a big smile on his face. They were so cute together. But why did I get angry at Ralph for letting the dog off his leash and not Cindy? The universe was a mysterious place. I threw on my jacket and met them on the sodden grass. “Hiya. I’ll take Lucky inside and meet you in the car.”

  “Car? You’re calling that jalopy a car? Isn’t that a bit of a reach?”

  “Layoff my wheels. I love that car,” I shouted as I dragged Lucky inside. After settling Lucky on his bed, I picked up the garbage can that was still in the living room and placed it at the bottom of the porch steps where it belonged. Cindy was leaning over the gear shift and putting some lipstick on in the rear-view mirror.

  “Your visor doesn’t have a mirror on the flip side.”

  “Duh. Have you finally stopped looking for one?”

  I clanked the car into gear and headed out to the Gibson’s for the second time in two days. This time, I didn’t call ahead. I wasn’t in the mood for talking about precious Andrew and more importantly, I wanted to catch them off-guard. I wanted to know exactly what it was that the Gibson family had done to Darlene that Sparling shouldn’t have done. If they were unsettled by a sudden visit, they might blurt something out. While I drove, Cindy focused on her phone, her long nails hitting the screen with sharp little clicks.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “I’m googling Ursula Major, and I found them. They’re a very small group of left-wing activists in Maine, USA. They were founded about twenty years ago to stop logging and logging roads through the Allagash Wilderness Waterway.”

  “Never heard of it. But more importantly, how did they hear about Darlene?”

  “We can ask Alison. She’d know how they were made aware of her, but I’m guessing that they have alerts on their computers for certain words like ‘wilderness’ and other things that would threaten habitats.”

  “That makes sense. But wouldn’t there be thousands of hits? Thousands of alerts?”

  “They probably used two or three additional words to narrow it down like ‘lake,’ or ‘river.’ And maybe they divided North America into zones, with each member taking a zone to monitor.” She focused on her tiny screen. “Doesn’t look like they had anything to do with Darlene’s death. They’re miles away.” I could see out of the corner of my eye that she was looked at the scenery around her. “Sure is pretty around here. I love the rocky outcrops.”

  “Yeah, me too. But I think we need to ask her parents if she had come in any contact with them.”

  “Hey, isn’t that Worthington up there walking ahead of us down the road? Sure looks like that ratty bush jacket he was wearing the other day.”

  I peered through the windshield at the figure sauntering along the side of the road. “Yup, that’s him. Should we talk to him now or get him at home?”

  “Now. He seems to be on the road a lot. This way, we can catch him. Besides, it’ll throw him off-balance.”

  I slowed the car down and crunched to a stop on the gravel beside him. Cindy rolled down her window, so he could hear us. “Hi, Mr. Worthington,” I shouted over her.

  “What do you want now?”

  Friendly sort. “Only wondering how you felt about that land being sold beside us.” Why bother beating around the bush?

  He leaned into Cindy’s window. “I don’t give a shit.”

  Really? I was speechless. This from the guy who had threatened death if someone destroyed where he hunted? I was completely taken aback. Cindy rescued me.

  “But what about your hunting grounds?” She was pressing against me, trying to get away from Worthington who was bent over with his arms on the ledge of the car window, breathing his disgusting fumes into the car.

  “They can have the fucking land. What do I care? Not much deer or bear around here now anyways. Heard the cops shot one over there. Assholes. I saved up some money. I’m going to buy me a camp up near Novar. A buddy of mine wants to sell up. The cancer got him.”

  “Sorry to hear about your friend. So, you’re buying another hunt camp? You don’t care about the land beside us?” I was incredulous.

  “That’s what I said, missy. You deaf?” Some spittle flew out of his mouth onto Cindy’s arm. She didn’t flinch.

  “Well, glad you’re okay with it. See you around.” My car stunk. I couldn’t wait to get away.

  He extricated himself from Cindy’s window as I pulled off the shoulder. It wasn’t until we were out of his sight that she pulled a tissue out of her purse and wiped the spit off her arm. “Ugh. That poor man. He really has gone way down.”

  Every now and then, Cindy surprised me. “Yes, he has. But it looks like he didn’t have anything to do with Darlene’s death either. No motive. So that’s two suspects down. Ursula Major and Worthington.”

  “No, he’s simply a sad old man.”

  The minutes ticked by and we drove in silence until we were at Moot Point. “Here’s the Gibson’s driveway.”

  As I drove the car through the brush-lined lane, once again Cindy’s head snapped back every time a branch flicked at the car. “Slow the fuck down,” she barked.

  “I can’t go any slower. This is it. Otherwise, the car will get stuck in the ruts.”

  “You’re already stuck in a rut.”

  We were nervous about trapping the Gibsons in their web of lies. Had they murdered their own daughter? That would be an efficient way to hide family secrets. Their cottage loomed up ahead. My hands were sweating on the steering wheel. “What’s our approach?”

  “South by southwest.”

  “Cindy. Stop kidding around. We’re almost there. We need a plan.”

  “Honesty is never the best policy.”

  “C’mon Cindy. We need a plan.”

  “Let’s see how it unfolds. We know what we want.” She talked in a falsetto. “Put it out there into the universe. The answer will come back. The wisdom will float to the surface. The courage will appear to act on the intention. Chanting will reveal all.”

  “Don’t make fun of me.”

  She laughed. “Okay, Miss Sensitivity. But really, let’s see how it unfolds. We want a motive and a confession.”

  “Good luck with that. And I mean it. Don’t make fun of my Buddhist practice.”

  “O-o-m-m-m-m.” She hummed. “That’s a dyslexic cow. Get it? M-o-o-o-o-o? Backwards? O-o-m-m-m-m.”

  Geezus. I tried to ignore her. “There’s Harry, still scraping away at that old boat. And yikes, here comes the giant spider.”

  “She better not try to hug me.”

  Sandra teetered on her heels, waving her arms and signalling for me to stop. “Hello, don’t come any further, it gets muddy here. You’ll get stuck.”

  I obliged and parked the car between two trees. “Hi, Mrs
. Gibson.”

  “Sandra.”

  She stepped forward, arms out for an embrace. I stepped backwards.

  “Thought we’d come back and clear a few things up.”

  “What, as journalists? About Darlene’s death?” Red-hot emotion flared across her face.

  Harry had put down his scraper and was walking over to the car. “Hey, honey,” he said, putting his arm through his wife’s. “What’s going on here?” He’d sensed the pulsating reverberations in the air.

  Cindy stepped forward, overshadowing the couple. With her imposing height and sinewy muscles, she probably looked quite threatening. Well, good. If these two were murderers, I wanted Cindy around. “Just a few questions.”

  “We’ve been hounded by the press enough. We don’t have to answer your questions. I don’t want any more written about poor Darlene. Imagine a bear killing her. That was a horrible death.” Sandra’s face crumpled and she clutched at her chest. She looked like she was preventing her heart from shattering. Harry rubbed her back in an ineffective gesture to soothe her, his own face contorted in grief.

  While watching Darlene’s parents grapple with their overwhelming grief, my suspicions about them as murderers drifted out the window. They weren’t acting. They might be unusual in their behaviour, but that didn’t make them killers. I didn’t think they had done it. That was my instinct. But then again, there was that email. I lightly tugged Cindy’s arm to let her know I wanted her to step back and give the Gibson’s some breathing space. She stood firm.

  “How did you learn she was killed by a bear?”