by Katie Tallo
Gus turns beet red. So much for not pussyfooting. The receptionist snickers as she texts. Likely sharing this fiasco with one of her many friends. Feeling small and stupid, Augusta awkwardly turns to leave. At the door, she slams her hand across the wheelchair access button. The doors magically part. Too slowly. She shoves them open and takes off across the parking lot as humiliation turns to anger.
Screw Ostrich-face.
Gus wants that scrapbook.
She has to have it.
Gus drives two blocks over and parks on a side street. Levi’s fast asleep as usual. She cracks the window, shoves her keys and phone in her back pocket, then strolls back toward the retirement home. When she reaches the edge of the property, she ducks low behind the front hedge. She crawls across the lawn from shrub to shrub until she’s pressed against the side of the building. She skirts the corner and finds a kitchen door propped open at the back. She walks in.
Act like you belong and no one will suspect a thing.
Gus strolls alongside the steel countertop, nodding to a prep cook who barely looks up from his onion chopping. She runs her finger across the counter and examines it for germs, pretending to be a health inspector. She makes it across the kitchen and peeks out the swinging doors into an empty dining room. She can see the lounge and the reception desk beyond. No Ostrich sightings. The receptionist has her head bent over her phone. Gus makes her move. Pushes through the doors, crosses the dining room, and heads down the hallway where she saw Renata being led to her room the day before. She moves fast, but not too fast. Renata’s room looked to be about halfway down on the left. She checks the nameplates. She passes an open door. The nameplate says Alice Myers. Inside sits the wispy-haired biddy who spoke to her outside. Alice sits reading in a large yellow armchair, next to her electric wheelchair. Gus tries to slip past, but Alice is already peering over her spectacles.
“You can call me Alice, but don’t call me late for tea.”
Alice giggles.
Afraid to linger in the hall, Augusta steps into Alice’s room.
“I’m just on my way to Renata’s room. You have a good day.”
“She’s not in her room.”
“Oh yes, I know that.”
“They don’t tell us diddly-squat, but I think she’s gone up there.”
Alice points upward. And since there’s no second floor, Gus figures she means heaven.
“No, she’s just in the hospital. I’m her niece. Come to get a few things for her.”
“Probably the beans that caused it.”
“Beans?”
“My late husband, Bucky, once had to go to emergency, but it was just gas.”
“That’s good.”
“Did you see Bucky on your way in?”
“I didn’t.”
“Renata doesn’t have a niece.”
Gus smiles. She’s underestimated Alice.
“Renata plays her radio loud sometimes. Walls are paper thin. Her room is right next door to mine.”
Gus nods. She checks if the coast is clear. It’s not. A male nurse is heading toward her pushing a cart of pill bottles. She closes the door. Alice smiles.
“He asked about you. Told her to spill the beans.”
“Who?”
Alice pulls herself to the edge of her chair and whispers loudly.
“The man. The one that came to see Renata in her room last night. Cardboard walls you see. I could hear him asking her what she talked about with the girl. I knew you had to be the girl. Only visitor she’s had in forever.”
“What did he look like?”
There’s a knock on the door. Gus presses herself behind it as it opens.
“Mrs. Myers? Time for your meds.”
“Let’s get it over with then.”
The nurse guides the cart into the narrow room. Hands her a small container and a glass of water.
“Here you go, Alice.”
Alice quickly swallows three large white pills with a gulp and sticks out her tongue. The nurse backs the cart out of the room and shuts the door.
“Alice, did you see the man?”
“No, I can’t see through cardboard.”
“I really should go.”
“Me too. Got a date with a chopper pilot from Trenton. Don’t tell Bucky.”
Alice winks. Augusta winks back, then peers into the hall. Coast is clear. She slips out just as the Ostrich rounds a corner. The nurse is looking down at her clipboard giving Gus the millisecond she needs to scurry into Renata’s room. Augusta locks the door. Takes a deep breath. The room smells like Listerine and lavender. It reminds her of Rose’s bedroom.
She gets down to business. Lifting pillows, checking the bookshelves, the closet, opening drawers, stooping to look under the bed. She can’t find the scrapbook anywhere. Maybe the mystery man took it. Or maybe Alice just heard the radio. She lifts the corner of a blanket lying across the arm of a paisley easy chair by the window.
There it is. Tucked down the side of the chair under the blanket. She picks up the scrapbook and holds it close.
Just then someone tries the door.
Almost at precisely the same moment, her back pocket pings loudly. She frantically grabs for the phone and turns off the volume. The screen lights up with another text from Lars.
You think I don’t know where you are? Think again. I’m coming for you, Auggie.
Keys jingle. Shit. Augusta pockets her phone and scans the room. She yanks the window open with one hand, shoves the screen off its frame, tosses the scrapbook outside, then pulls the window shut.
The Ostrich enters.
Augusta is sitting in the easy chair with her head in her hands, pretending to cry.
“Jesus Christ! How in God’s name did you get in here?”
The Ostrich stomps one of her orthotic shoes into the beige carpet. Augusta looks up at the nurse, trying to muster tears.
“Poor Renata.”
“Right, that’s it. I’m calling the police if you don’t get out this instant.”
Nurse O holds the door open and sweeps her hand in the direction of the front lobby. Gus obeys. The girl at the front desk perks up when she sees Gus being ushered out. More drama to text about. Before Gus can escape, the Ostrich grabs hold of her satchel. Rummages through it and finds nothing. She lets go. Augusta gives her a you should be ashamed of yourself glare and walks out the front doors. Again. The Ostrich watches her until she’s off the property.
Back at the Buick, Levi’s up and barking. She lets him out to pee, then holds out a cookie for him. He snaps it from her fingers, his teeth grazing the tips. She drives farther into the neighborhood. Down a crescent where the houses back onto the grounds of the retirement home. She parks. Checks her phone. Fuck Lars and his ridiculous stalker-texting. He could have given her away before she even got into Renata’s room. Gus makes a mental note to figure out how to block his number. But right now she’s got a mission to complete.
She spots a house with no cars in the driveway. Doesn’t look like anyone’s home. Gus tells Levi to chill. He’s busy chewing. She locks the car, walks up the driveway, and enters the backyard. She crosses the yard, then pushes through the hedge and scrambles across the grounds of the retirement home. She makes it to the side of the building, feeling like a ninja inching her back along the wall. She finds Renata’s window and voilà! The scrapbook is right there in the grass where she tossed it. She grabs it and dashes back the way she came. As she reaches the hedge, she glances back at the retirement home. That’s when she spots Alice waving frantically from one of the big glass windows in the lounge. A huge smile on her face. Gus waves back just as the Ostrich appears at Alice’s shoulder and looks out to see who she’s waving to. Gus ducks into the hedges and disappears.
Back on the highway toward Ottawa, her heart is still racing. Racing because something doesn’t feel right. It’s the man Alice heard talking to Renata the night she had a stroke. Maybe Alice conjured him up, just like she does her dead husband, Buc
ky. Or maybe the man is real. And he’s asking about Gus. Following her. And maybe it was him, and not her, who pushed Renata over the edge. Augusta’s head tells her she’s being paranoid, but her heart won’t stop racing.
Racing because with every step she feels pulled by her mother’s wake.
She likes the feeling.
22
Stanton
AFTER A NIGHT SPENT PORING OVER THE SCRAPBOOK AND phoning three hospitals, Gus found her. Called her room and a nurse answered.
Can I speak to Renata, please?
I’m afraid that’s not possible.
Please, I just want to know she’s okay.
And you are?
Her niece.
Then you’re aware that she’s lost the ability to speak. Permanently.
Poor sweet Renata.
Augusta wakes the next morning to the low hum of her phone vibrating. The sound drags her from the fog of a deep sleep. As she opens her eyes, she knows she was having one of her vivid dreams. And this one will be hard to shake off.
In the dream, she was visiting Renata in a derelict hospital. They were the only two in the entire building. The halls were empty as if abandoned. Renata lay in a rusty metal bed under a thin sheet. Gus sat on a chair across the room. A red leather chair like the one in Miss Virtue’s office at the Scotiabank. Gus was sitting so far away from Renata that she had to shout to talk to her. When she rose to move closer, Renata’s mouth began to disappear, and her eyes became terror-stricken. Then, slowly her horrified mouthless face morphed into the deformed hunk of flesh that is Desmond Oaks.
Then Gus woke, leaving Renata all alone.
Augusta’s phone vibrates again. She grabs it off the side table next to her bed and expects to see another text tirade from Lars. It’s not him.
It’s Rory calling. She picks up. He needs her to come to RCMP headquarters. Gives her the address on Leikin. His boss, Sergeant Stanton, wants a word. Rory says he’ll meet her at the main gate in an hour. Sounds like she has no choice. She doesn’t ask what it’s about. She’s pretty sure it has something to do with Nurse Ostrich and trespassing. Being summoned to RCMP headquarters seems a tad extreme for a petty crime.
Augusta gets up, brushes her teeth, doesn’t bother showering, feeds Levi, then lets him out back to pee while she sips her coffee. She stuffs a Pop-Tart in her mouth and heads for the front door. She glances at herself in the mirror of the hall tree. Glimpses her mother’s angular cheekbones. Runs her fingers through her long red hair. Dark circles rim her green eyes. Her pale skin, dotted with freckles, looks almost translucent. She needs to eat better.
As Gus opens the door, she looks back at the dog. Levi pouts, chin on paws. He doesn’t like being left behind.
“Back soon, promise.”
The headquarters are on the edge of the Barrhaven suburbs situated in an open field. The large parking lot is surrounded by wrought-iron fencing that wraps around the entire complex of unremarkable gray brick buildings. There’s a small security outbuilding at the edge of the parking lot where visitors check in. Gus registers her ID with a constable at the desk, gets a plastic clip-on visitor’s pass, then waits on a hard plastic chair in the glass lobby.
Eventually, Rory rushes in, huffing and puffing.
“Sorry I’m late. How’ve you been, Little Monet?”
“Keeping busy.”
“So it seems.”
He leads the way. Avoiding eye contact. Either he’s sorry for the way he acted last time they saw each other or he’s nervous about what’s about to go down.
Rory guides her through a turnstile, scanning the pass that hangs around his neck so each of them can move through the electronic arms. They cross a courtyard to the main building, go through a large foyer, up an elevator, down a long hall. Finally, they arrive at a closed office door bearing a sign.
SERGEANT MARTY STANTON, HEAD OF YOUTH SERVICES
Gus cringes. She might only be twenty, but this is ridiculous. Rory smiles awkwardly at Gus as he knocks lightly.
“Enter.”
Stanton is a brick of a woman. About sixty. Gus was expecting a man with the name Marty. Stanton’s ample chest pulls open the buttons of her blue shirt. Her white bra peeks out. Her neck puffs over her collar like pizza crust. Gus shakes her spongy hand and sits across from her. The jacket of her uniform hangs on a metal coat-tree in the corner. Her office is small. Stanton sits back in her chair and jostles the coat-tree. Gus can tell from her tense jaw that this happens every time she sits down and it’s slowly driving her crazy. A large computer crowds one-half of her desk. A stack of file folders, about to tip over, crowds the other. Yellow sticky notes decorate the edges of her computer monitor. A window looks out to a brick wall. Her office is a prison cell.
“I knew your parents well.”
Stanton shuffles paperwork. Doesn’t look Gus in the eye or introduce herself. She doesn’t want to be dealing with this. Rory stands behind Gus.
“Fine people. Good police officers.”
“The best,” Rory pipes in.
Stanton shoots him a look before continuing.
“I was in charge of rookie training in Kingston when they joined the detachment back in ’97.”
“Your mom worked for Sergeant Stanton when she was in the family way. With you that is.”
Rory can’t keep his mouth shut. Stanton raises an eyebrow. Rory gets the message, excuses himself, closing the door behind him.
“Have I done something wrong?”
Gus feels like a kid in the principal’s office. Stanton adjusts her tight belt then clasps her hands. Time to get down to business.
“I understand you have RCMP evidence in your possession.”
Augusta wasn’t expecting that.
“You mean a few old newspaper clippings?”
“And a little collection of photographs and a police report, among other things. Copies or not, they are police evidence.”
She can’t believe Rory told Stanton everything.
“They’re my mother’s.”
“They belong to the RCMP.”
“She was trying to solve a cold case.”
Stanton rubs her chin.
“Can I call you Augusta?”
“Sure. What can I call you?”
Dipshit comes to mind but Gus doesn’t say it.
“Augusta, Constable Rump tells me you’ve been engaging in a little amateur detective work. You’ve been poking around a restricted area out in the county south of Ottawa.”
Damn Rory. Thanks a lot.
“Your parents were outstanding police officers. But you, young lady, are not a police officer. I want you to stop pretending you are. Am I clear?”
She rises. She’s done, and Gus is dismissed. Gus hates her condescending tone. Calling her mother’s wall a “little collection.” As if it were an assortment of teaspoons like the ones that used to hang on Rose’s living room wall. Stanton might be done with her, but she’s not done with Stanton.
“Were you the one who suspended her?”
Stanton sits back in her chair. It whines under the strain.
“Actually, no. I was the one who got her off the desk and back out on patrol. Then June Halladay’s accident landed on her shift. The case got to her. June’s girl being so young, losing her mother. From then on, she had it out for the senator. Head office transferred her out of there. To Ottawa. But she never let it go. She still poked around. Looking into the Halladays. Then the Neil kid went missing and she was like a dog with a bone. Somebody in the senator’s office got involved and that was that. Ultimately, your mother got herself suspended.”
Gus is trying to take it all in. Connect the dots.
“Henry Neil? They just found his body. He was living at Kep Halladay’s when he went missing.”
“Doesn’t mean the man killed him.”
Stanton looks like she wants to eat her words.
“Is that what my mother thought happened to him? To Henry?”
“No. Y
es, but it was a wild theory based on nothing.”
“So it wasn’t an accident. I knew it.”
“I think you misunderstood what . . .”
Gus cuts her off. “Did you know my mother died the same day Kep Halladay disappeared?”
Stanton looks at her, steadies herself.
“Two unrelated incidents, I assure you, young lady.”
Gus doesn’t buy it, but she lets it go for now. Stanton’s a gold mine.
“What happened to Gracie Halladay once her grandfather was gone?”
Stanton wipes sweat from her brow. She’s trying not to lose her cool.
“As far as I remember, the house got boarded up. Some woman in town took her in. Lois somebody. I recall, she was a dance instructor in Elgin.”
Lois. The name’s come up before, but Gus can’t think where. Stanton continues.
“A few months after Kep Halladay’s murder I was transferred to Youth Services here at headquarters so that’s all I know about that.”
Stanton is trying to wrap things up. But Gus is startled by this revelation.
“Murder?”
“That’s right. His body was never recovered, but at the time, forensics found physical evidence that pointed to it being a homicide. The case went cold. It remains unsolved to this day.”
Gus opens her mouth to speak, but Stanton gives her a look that shuts it.
“We’re done, Miss Monet. I called this meeting out of respect for your parents, but the interrogation is over.”
She rises and so does Gus. They shake hands.
“So we’re clear?”
Gus nods. Rory is waiting outside like an eager puppy. In the elevator, he looks down at his hands.
“Stanton might be a bit of a bull in a china shop, but she’s just looking out for you. Me too.”
“Is that why you told on me, Constable Rump?”
He turns and takes her gently by the shoulders. She stiffens at his touch. Not quite ready to forgive him.
“You’re young. You should be going out on dates and shopping at the mall and looking to the future instead of digging up the dusty old past.”
Then she realizes forgiveness is exactly what it’s going to take. Taking a deep breath, Augusta forces herself to relax, then wraps her arms around Rory and squeezes him tight enough to make the lie that’s coming feel true.