by Katie Tallo
“Time to go.”
Gus grabs Levi’s leash and starts running. They hit the main drag full stride. Neither looks back until they’re well past the water tower outside town. Only then does Gus dare to glance over her shoulder to make sure no one’s following them. Hopefully the shot scared them. Gun at her side, she slows to a light jog but keeps moving toward the Buick. Both of them are panting.
That knife came way too close for comfort.
Then Gus stops in her tracks.
Up ahead, in the direction of her car, a man is running full speed toward them. She doesn’t know what to do so she drops to one knee, aims the gun, and fires at him. He dives for the dirt and covers his head.
“Are you nuts? Hold your fire.”
Lying flat on his belly, he riffles in his back pocket, pulls out what looks like a wallet. He holds his arms high like he’s flying, flips open the wallet so it’s facing her.
“Drop your weapon. RCMP.”
Gus flushes, realizing he’s holding up his police badge. She rises, but keeps the gun leveled at the stranger. Levi starts galloping toward him.
“No, Levi, stop.”
It’s too late. Levi’s closing in fast. The guy takes cover, arms over his head. Levi pounces and starts licking the man’s ears. The man starts laughing, then he rolls over and ruffles Levi’s neck. She lowers the gun to her side.
“If you’re a cop, where’s your uniform?”
The man sits up and wipes off the front of his T-shirt and jeans. Gus keeps her distance. Levi rubs up against the man, then gallops back over to Gus.
“I’m undercover. I mean, damn it, I’m trying to look inconspicuous.”
“Not doing a very good job.”
“Yeah, I see that now. It’s my first week on the job. On surveillance, I mean.”
He stands up. Hands raised slightly like he’s showing his cards.
“You’re tailing me?”
“No. Sort of.”
Déjà vu washes over her. Like she’s seen him somewhere before. Then it dawns on her. Even before she was called to Stanton’s office, the RCMP have been following her. They know everything she’s been up to. This is all Rory’s fault. It’s not on this guy. He’s just some dumb rookie assigned to babysit her. She feels like a fool.
“Name’s Lashey. Constable Stu Lashey.”
He holds up his badge for her to see. Levi leaps for it when he spots the quick flash of metal and leather, thinking it’s a chew toy and the nice policeman wants to play.
“Levi. Heel.”
The cop stifles a laugh. Pulls the badge away from the dog’s open mouth, pockets it. Then he leans over and pets the top of Levi’s furry head.
“Spinone?”
“Mutt.”
“Hey there, Levi.”
“Sorry I shot at you.”
He stops petting Levi and gives Gus his full attention.
“Augusta Monet, right?”
She nods. Of course he knows her name. He continues.
“Listen, I shouldn’t have come at you like that. It’s just that I heard the gunshot and figured, better to blow my cover than have something awful happen to the person I’m supposed to be watching.”
Great. He does think he’s babysitting.
“I can take care of myself.”
She puts the gun back in her satchel even though she’d rather not. Someone still threw a knife at her head and who knows where that someone is right now. Gus glances over her shoulder toward town.
“Are you sure you’re okay, miss?”
When she turns back to face him, he’s smiling. Little dimples pinch the sides of his mouth. His whole Boy Scout vibe is bordering on nerdy, but somehow she’s finding it hard to resist. She tries not to smile back. He’s so clean-cut and fit and blond and blue-eyed. A touch of acne at his temples. Probably still lives at home and gets his mom to iron his shirts.
Levi circles his legs and licks his shoes. Gus moves closer to try to get Levi to behave. A scent wafts from the young constable. A clean smell like sandalwood soap and oranges. Yep. Mom definitely does his laundry. She tries to grab Levi by the collar.
“Sorry about him. He has a thing for footwear.”
“He’s just friendly. Aren’t you, boy?”
As the constable roughhouses with Levi, Gus forgets where she is for a moment. Time slips away and suddenly she’s standing in front of her father. A young rookie. New to the job. About her age when he went out on that last shift. She almost reaches out to touch the young man in front of her but stops herself. Knowing Charlie’s not there.
“Miss Monet. Hello?”
Gus shakes off her father’s ghost.
“Sorry. What?”
The young constable is staring at her.
“I asked what you two were doing out here. It’s pretty dangerous in these parts. And off-limits. You know that, right?”
“We got turned around on our walk, that’s all.”
“And I’m sure you have a permit to carry that gun.”
He nods toward her satchel.
“It’s at home.”
Lashey nods. She can tell he doesn’t believe her, but he drops it. Seems at a loss for words so he gently brushes dog hair off his jeans. In the awkward silence that falls between them, she realizes that he’s just as out of his element as she is. Both of them rookies.
“Thanks. For, you know, doing your job, I guess.”
He looks up, having gathered a ball of stray Levi hair in one hand. He holds up the ball between his finger and thumb, like it’s evidence of a crime.
“You know I’d be well within my rights to take you two in.”
She tries not to smile. Points to Levi.
“He’s the menace to society, not me.”
“He got a record?”
“Wouldn’t you know? You’re the one following us.”
“Following? More like protecting and serving, ma’am.”
He salutes.
“Levi can protect me just fine. Thanks.”
Constable Lashey gives her a nod. Reaches down to give Levi one more pet on the head, then turns and walks away.
“I’ll be seeing you, Red.”
He continues walking down the road that leads back to her car. Must have parked near the barricade. Near the willow where she parked.
Gus feels like an idiot, but she has no choice. She follows him. She keeps about forty paces back. Levi ambles ahead and keeps pace beside Lashey. The dog looks back to make sure she’s coming. Augusta watches the pair walking side by side along the moss-ridden highway. On either side of them, swaths of purple loosestrife sway and ripple across the deep ditches.
The rancid scent of Elgin is a few miles behind them now. Gus can breathe deeply again. The pissy weeds smell sweet by comparison. Lashey never looks back. Keeps walking until he reaches his car. A dark gray Pontiac Grand Am. It’s sitting across the road from the willow where she parked the Buick. He gets in and waits. He’s making sure she leaves the area. Levi paws at the passenger door of his car. Beet red, Gus has to walk over and drag the dog to her car.
Driving back to the city, Augusta periodically checks her rearview mirror. Constable Lashey’s Grand Am follows at a distance. The setting sun bounces off his windshield so she can’t make out his face. He tails her most of the way back on Highway 15. Then when she takes the split onto Fisher, he continues on, leaving her alone. For now.
Augusta pulls into Rose’s garage. She opens the door leading into the kitchen. Levi follows. Sluggish from the day’s excitement. His old bones are tired. She fills his water dish and tops up his food bowl with kibble. He drinks all the water and eats a few morsels of kibble before disappearing upstairs. She hears the creaking of Rose’s bed as he jumps up and settles. Gus sets her satchel on the kitchen table and stands still. Quietly listening.
Something is off.
She inhales and that’s when she smells it. Aftershave. Old Spice.
Augusta pulls Rose’s gun from her satchel and
checks the back door. Locked. She moves slowly down the hall and checks the front door. Bolted. She looks upstairs. Levi would have barked if someone was up there. She steps to the entryway of the living room. Spots the dirt first. Near the front window. Then she turns. Surveys the room and can’t believe her eyes. She lowers the gun, drops it on the table in the front foyer, and stares.
Her mother’s wall. It’s gone. All of it. Vanished. Other than a few bits of Scotch tape and a stray corner torn from one of the documents.
A melancholy washes over Augusta as she runs her palms over the barren wall. Across the space that her mother had come to inhabit in Rose’s house. Shannon’s wall has been violated. Torn away. Her heart aches. But just as quickly it hardens.
She knows who’s done this.
JUST BEFORE DAYBREAK THE NEXT DAY, AUGUSTA DRESSES AND heads downstairs. Levi eats, then goes out to pee, then races back inside. He can sense something’s up. A road trip maybe. He chases his tail excitedly while she digs into her satchel. Finds the address scribbled on the back of the card he gave her. Gus heads out to the car, Levi by her side.
Rory’s house is at the far end of Kemptville, about a forty-five-minute drive from Ottawa. A small bungalow set back in the woods, off a rural road. The property borders a maple-lined creek. A long narrow lawn, in desperate need of a good mowing, winds alongside the gravel driveway leading to the house. It’s quiet, isolated. A modest cottage with white siding and blue shutters. There’s a tin awning over a small porch. A couple of lawn chairs sit next to a barbecue. Rory’s red Honda is parked beside the house. No signs of life.
Gus opens the unlocked side door and slips into the kitchen. Levi stays close to her, sniffing the stale kitchen air, then flopping near her feet. Gus takes a seat at the table and waits. Levi begins grinding his teeth into the wooden leg of the chair. Before long she hears the floorboards groan and a door whine. Feet patter across the hardwood. Then silence. Then the sound of pee flowing into a toilet. Soon, the feet patter toward her and a long fart echoes down the hall. Rory steps into his kitchen and nearly jumps out of his boxers when he sees her and Levi.
“Jesus H Christ, girl! I coulda shot you.”
“With this?”
She motions toward the police revolver and holster sitting next to her hand on the table.
“What in the heck are you doing in my kitchen at this hour?”
His left eye twitches badly. Terrible actor.
“You broke into my house yesterday. Thought I’d return the favor.”
“I never.”
“I know it was you.”
His puffy face begins a slow descent toward crumbling.
“You destroyed her wall.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What did you do with all of it? The evidence? My mother’s things?”
“Gone. I tossed them in a dumpster. I’m so sorry. It’s for your own good.”
Gus glares at him. Levi gnaws contentedly, ignoring the two of them.
Rory bites his lower lip.
“I swear I did it for you, Little Monet. And for her. For Shan.”
“She left them for me. You had no right.”
“She wasn’t thinking straight. She wouldn’t have wanted you knowing any of it. She wouldn’t have wanted you digging into the past.”
His eyes well up. He’s hijacking the situation with his blubbering. She spins the bowl of fruit on the table between her palms, trying to keep her cool.
“Tell me the truth, Rory.”
“The truth’s a shit pile.”
She really wants him to stop feeling sorry for himself.
“You’re a shit pile.”
Augusta tosses an apple at his head. It bounces off his forehead and he looks like he’s going down. He grabs the counter and steadies himself. Levi scrambles after the apple. Realizing it’s not a ball, he leaves it where it lies and ambles off into the den.
“I didn’t help Shan twelve years ago. But I’ll be damned if I don’t help her kid now.”
He turns his back to Augusta and wipes his forehead with a dirty dishrag. He takes a deep breath and stares into the sink.
Then he tells her about her mother.
24
Detective Monet
IT WAS 2002. WE WERE BOTH WORKING AT O DIVISION IN Kingston. With your dad gone four years, Shan had been back on patrol for a while. Theft and property infractions unit. Rural district that included Elgin. Cow patrol. That’s what we called it. I was filling in on dispatch that day. It was a Monday. Early September as I recall. I heard the call come in. There was trouble out at the Halladay place. Your mother was the first one on the scene. She radios in. June Halladay’s dead.”
Gus can see her mother. Squad car. Uniform. Badge. She can hear Shannon’s smooth, confident voice coming across the radio. Strong. Unwavering. Knows her job. Gus feels a burst of pride. Her mother was a police officer. A good one. Whatever Rory is about to tell her, Gus knows in her heart, this is the truth. She was good.
“We were short of men, so Stanton, squad commander at the time, sends a couple of us desk jockeys over to help process the scene. When I get there, Kep Halladay’s right in Shan’s face. He doesn’t want any fuss. He wants the body taken directly to the funeral home. She’s telling him there’s procedures to follow. The body can’t be moved till the coroner comes and forensics has looked over the scene and checked the vehicle. I know the guy. Halladay isn’t used to being told what’s what. He’s out of his mind. He takes her badge number. Makes some calls. Then just like that a hearse comes by and takes the body away before the scene’s even processed. Shan loses her cucumbers. She tries to question June’s daughter, who was just a wee thing. Only seven years old. And injured. Kep won’t allow it. Kid’s taken away in an ambulance. Stanton’s furious with the way it all goes down. She says as much, but it’s clear the sarge has her hands tied by someone higher up the food chain. She tells Shan to write up her report and move on.
“That day forward, your mom has Kep Halladay in her sights. She refuses to believe June’s death was an accident. She says she knows something bad’s going on up at that house. She says she’s gonna prove it one day. She keeps digging and pushing. Stanton tells her Halladay’s got friends in high places. She’s gotta watch herself. I even tried talking some sense into her. I told her she was messing with fire.”
Gus listens. Says nothing. Her heart beats faster with every sentence he utters. Knowing his words explain so much about her mother, and yet not wanting to believe a single one of them.
“Sure enough she gets burned. It was her own doing. About a year later, Shan’s still digging into Halladay’s business. Then she takes the girl. Gracie Halladay. She picks her up when she’s walking home from school and takes off with her. Later Shan tells Stanton she was just taking her for ice cream on account of it being the anniversary of her mom’s death and all. Halladay hollers kidnapping. Stanton saves your mom’s butt. Stops her from going to jail by getting her a transfer to Ottawa. Shan ends up pushing papers at headquarters. That was the fall of 2003. Shan was only twenty-six. You were just a little tyke. Five at most so you probably don’t remember the move to the city or any of this.”
He’s wrong. Gus does remember the move. Remembers sitting in the back seat of her mother’s car, wedged between suitcases stacked so high on either side she couldn’t see out. Remembers eating Chinese takeout from the carton for their first dinner in their new home. Remembers using a big cardboard moving box as their dining table. Remembers lying on the floor in a sleeping bag that first night. Her mother crying in the kitchen as she quietly unpacked cutlery and dishes.
“I barely saw her after that. I tried. The few times I did, she wasn’t the old Shan. A couple of years later, she made detective and got assigned to the Canadian Police Centre’s Joint Task Force for Missing and Exploited Children. Working at the national coordination center. It could have been a new start. But then sometime ’05, maybe ’06, she came across the Henry Neil file and saw K
ep Halladay’s name all over it, and she was at it again. Digging for dirt on Kep Halladay. He caught wind and she got suspended.
“The night your mother died, I don’t know if she went out to Halladay’s place. I don’t know what went on or what she did. All I know is he disappeared and was likely murdered that night. Maybe she was still trying to save that girl. I can’t say for certain. But cops protect their own.”
Augusta’s mind can’t process what he’s telling her.
Disappeared. Murdered. Protect their own.
Her brain feels as if it might splinter into a thousand pieces. Rory sheepishly turns around to look at Gus. Her tangled and tormented expression makes him bow his head in regret. Shoulders slumped.
“I know it’s hard to hear, Little Monet. But Charlie’s passing and then June Halladay, then that Henry kid going missing, it all drove her into the deep end. She never came up for air. It cost her everything. Her life. If she’d just let it go, things woulda turned out different. That’s why I tore down that wall of evidence you created. I got rid of it so you don’t end up going down that same road as her. So you don’t find a truth at the end of that road that makes you think less of your mom. I would hate that.”
Augusta is infuriated that Rory thinks she needs protecting from her own mother. Who does he think he is? Making decisions for her. Acting the hero. Beating around the bush to spare her some terrible truth, instead of just coming out and saying it. Before she can find the words to express her rage, he hits her with another round.
“Maybe she was nowhere near Halladay’s that night. Her car accident was quite a ways from Elgin. But those fresh tire tracks on the edge of the Halladay property matched her vehicle. Like I said, we protect our own. I can’t say the old man didn’t deserve what he got.”