Uncharted Waters

by Rosemary McCracken

  “Not to worry. This is TAI’s annual gala for its sponsors.”

  “I suppose you’re one of them.”

  He smiled, and I followed him up the front steps.

  “Good evening, Mr. Cordova,” a doorman in tails greeted Ben.

  A silver-haired woman in a blue gown came up to us. “Ben! You got here just in time. The unveiling’s in five minutes.”

  “Pat, this is Julia Ricci, TAI’s executive director,” Ben said. “Julia, meet my financial advisor, Pat Tierney.”

  “We were at Nuit Blanche,” I said to Julia, attempting to explain our casual clothing. “I didn’t know we’d be coming here.”

  Julia smiled. “You’re fine, and I’m delighted Ben turned up. He wouldn’t commit himself when we spoke yesterday.”

  She led us across the entrance hall, pointing to the wooden staircase that rose in a graceful curve to the second floor. “That’s Leon Milner you hear upstairs.”

  She took us into a room off the hall, where she waved over a waiter with a tray of champagne flutes. When we had each taken a glass, Julia raised hers. “To Cordova Philanthropies, our good angel!”

  Ben inclined his head toward an object on a pedestal covered with a white cloth. “That it?” he asked.

  “That’s our magnificent bronze.” Julia turned to me. “Cordova sponsored our sculpture contest. Fifty-five artists from across Canada submitted drawings. A jury whittled them down to five finalists, and Ben selected the winner. You’ll see it as soon as—”

  She smiled as a woman in a black off-the-shoulder gown approached us. “Mindy,” she said. “You know Ben, of course.”

  “Mindy,” I said, surprised to see her. “You left Markham.”

  “You seem to know Pat, too,” Julia said, “so I don’t have to tell her that you did the all promotional artwork for this gala and the contest.”

  Ben grinned as if to say, “I told you so!”

  Upstairs, Leon Milner had moved into “It Had to Be You.” In the doorway, I spotted the woman I’d seen on the street wearing the dragon mask. I turned to look at her more closely—just as she reached into a black leather clutch and pulled out a gun.

  “Mindy!” she yelled, as she raised the gun.

  A loud bang echoed through the room, followed by screams and shouts as guests and waitstaff scrambled for cover. Mindy lay crumpled on the floor. Julia dropped to her knees beside her. Ben and I crouched low. He pulled his cell from his jacket pocket and spoke into it.

  The masked woman started to move forward, keeping her gun trained on Mindy.

  Suddenly someone shouted, “Drop the gun!” It was the snowman; he had come up behind the masked woman, and he was holding her by the arms. She struggled and partially freed herself, the gun waving wildly in her hand. “Drop the gun!” the snowman shouted again as they struggled. He lunged and knocked the weapon from her hand.

  The mask slipped off, revealing Becca Qunicy’s face, contorted with rage. With a surge of fury, she twisted in the snowman’s arms, and kneed him in the groin. The snowman doubled over. Becca bolted for the front doors. I ran over and picked up the gun.

  “Go after the blonde who ran out of here,” Ben yelled. “She shot a woman.”

  A security guard sprinted across the hall, and out the front doors.

  Ben and I went over to Mindy. Her eyes were closed, but I could see that she was breathing. Julia was pressing a white towel on her arm. Blood had started to seep through it.

  “Bullet in the arm,” Ben said in answer to my unspoken question. “Ambulance is on its way.”

  I went over to the snowman, who had straightened up and was taking off his headpiece. “Sorry I let her get away, Mrs. T,” Kyle said.

  Kyle! “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  “Yeah,” he said with a grunt.

  The security guard returned to the house. “She got away,” he said.

  Leon didn’t sing “The Party’s Over,” but that was the end of the gala. The police arrived minutes later, an ambulance right behind them. I handed the gun to an officer. The paramedics went straight to work on Mindy, and everyone else was ordered out of the room. Ben and I watched from the front doors as Mindy was carried out on a stretcher.

  Two officers closed the front doors and stationed themselves in front of them. Ben and I joined the lineup for police interviews.

  ***

  I never did have my talk with Ben that night. Once we’d given our statements to the police, I was only too happy to have him call a cab to take Kyle and me home.

  “You were following me tonight,” I said to Kyle in the taxi.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. T, but Ben pissed me off when he came over to pick you up. All his talk about the money his foundation gives to arts groups. Yeesh!” He rolled his eyes. “I dug out my old snowman costume and caught up with you on Queen Street West. Just in case you needed help.”

  I smiled at the idea of my daughter’s 19-year-old boyfriend acting as my bodyguard. But I sobered at the memory of Kyle taking on Becca and her gun.

  “You could have been badly hurt,” I said. But I was too tired to make sure he understood how badly hurt he could have been.

  Tomorrow, I thought. I’d follow up on it tomorrow.

  Chapter Forty-four

  The shooting was the lead item on the radio news the next morning. At the words Campbell House, Kyle stopped flipping pancakes at the stove. I sat up straight in my chair. The newscaster said a woman had been shot and injured at a party at Campbell House the previous evening, and the shooter had fled the scene. Police were not yet releasing any names, he added.

  “Who shot who at this party?” Laura wanted to know.

  “A woman named Becca Quincy walked in and shot Mindy Manuel in the arm,” I said.

  “Shot her! But why?” Laura asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Mom, you could have been shot.” Laura turned to Kyle. “Kyle, you too.”

  “You were at the party, Kyle?” Tommy asked.

  “What were you doing there anyway?” Laura asked him.

  Kyle’s eyes met mine.

  “Kyle was a hero last night,” I said. “He made the shooter drop her gun. But seriously, Kyle, you could have been her next victim.” And how would I have explained that to his parents?

  “Wow!” Tommy was staring open-mouthed at Kyle. “Did you get the gun?”

  Laura looked impressed, too. “The police must have the gun,” she said to Tommy. “It’s evidence.”

  Kyle’s face had turned red. “I didn’t do much. She got away, didn’t she?”

  “Walking into a party with a gun…I can’t believe it.” Laura shook her head. “Do you know this Becca Quincy, Mom?”

  “Becca Quincy is a real-estate agent. She was selling Ben’s house.”

  “So Ben was part of it,” Kyle said.

  “I don’t think so.” I’d been having serious doubts about Ben, but he’d seemed as surprised as everyone else by the shooting. “Becca is also Sam’s sister.”

  “Your assistant’s sister!” Laura cried.

  I was spared having to give any more explanations by the sound of the doorbell.

  “I’ll get it,” Kyle said, and headed down the hall.

  I smiled at Laura. “He’s become the man of the house.”

  “Police officer to see you, Mrs. T,” he said, when he returned to the kitchen. “Detective Sergeant Neil Hardy. Wants to talk to me, too.”

  I wasn’t surprised by Hardy’s visit. I followed Kyle down the hall.

  “Good morning, Detective.” I pointed to the front room. “In here.”

  “You had a busy evening,” Hardy said when he’d taken a seat on the sofa. He flipped the pages of his notebook. “All the usual suspects: Rebecca Quincy, Mindy Manuel, Ben Cordova.” He shot me a searching look. “But not a harmonious group, I understand.”

  He turned to Kyle. “You must be Kyle Shingler. Well, Mr. Shingler, I don’t recommend bystanders taking down people with firearms
, but without your action more people could have been hurt.”

  Kyle flushed.

  “Speaking of hurt,” I said, “how is Mindy?”

  Hardy made a show of consulting his notebook again. “Bullet in the upper arm, but no major arteries or bones were hit. She may be released from hospital tomorrow.”

  “She was lucky,” I said.

  “What were you doing at the party at Campbell House?” Hardy asked Kyle.

  “Keeping an eye on Mrs. T.”

  “She needs someone to do that,” Hardy said, “but leave the bodyguard work to professionals.”

  Kyle looked crestfallen.

  “Kyle and I gave our statements last night,” I said. “Why are you here, Detective?”

  Hardy cocked an eyebrow. “We’ve spoken to Samantha and her parents again. They still don’t know the whereabouts of Rebecca and her husband.”

  Nothing new about that, I thought.

  He cleared his throat. “The bullet that killed Riza Santos came from the gun Rebecca Quincy used last night. Ballistics got working on it as soon as we brought it in.”

  My heart was racing. “That means Becca or Gabe shot Riza.”

  He gave me a curt nod. “You are not to interact with either of them.”

  He put his notepad in his pocket. “Giorgio Markezinis at the diner told us that a woman who fit Mindy Manuel’s description went into Monaghan’s building on several occasions, always in the late afternoon. I brought that up with Manuel this morning, and she admitted she’d met with Monaghan more than once.”

  “She wasn’t on Dean’s client roster.”

  He held up his hands. “Maybe he hadn’t got around to putting her on it. She had a dental appointment on the afternoon he was murdered.”

  “You checked out the appointment?”

  He gave me a look that said I shouldn’t be telling him how to do his job. “And she wasn’t seen entering Monaghan’s building on the neighbor’s video footage.”

  Something occurred to me. “Are there surveillance cameras in the alley?” I asked.

  “No cameras in the alley,” Hardy said. “But Monaghan had a keyless door, like your fire-escape door. His killer came in the front.”

  ***

  I had work to do. I needed to finish the articles I was writing for my first client newsletter. I knew I’d have no interruptions in my office suite.

  I took Tommy across the street for his play date with Jake, making sure that Jake’s mom had my cell number. Then I got a lift to the Annex with Laura and Kyle. Sunday was Giorgio’s day off, so I bought a coffee at Tim Hortons. I made certain no one was behind me as I unlocked the street door to our building. Once inside, I locked the door. And I locked myself in our suite upstairs.

  I placed my handbag on my desk, then decided I needed some fresh air before hunkering down to work. I took my coffee out on the fire escape, propped the metal door open with the plastic crate, and reminded myself again to have a regular lock installed. One that could be opened from outside the building with a key.

  From my seat on the top step, I could still see remnants of the yellow police tape fluttering below me. It was a cool fall day, but the sun was strong. I lifted my face to it, willing its rays to burn the horrors of the past few weeks from my mind.

  My mind sped back to what Hardy had said that morning. Giorgio had told the police he’d seen a woman who looked like Mindy go into Dean’s building several times, and she had admitted that was true. Hardy had also said there were no surveillance cameras in the alley.

  My cell chimed. I set my coffee on the step and took the phone out of my jacket pocket.

  “A Gabe Quincy was here, asking for you,” Laura said as soon as I’d picked up.

  My heart did a flip-flop. “You answered the door?”

  “Kyle went to the door, but he didn’t open up. He shouted at Gabe through it.”

  “Did he tell him where I am?”

  “Mom, Kyle’s not stupid. He figured Gabe was a relation—probably the husband—of Becca Quincy who went on the shooting spree last night. He said you weren’t here, and that we were calling the police. That spooked Gabe, and he took off.”

  “Is Kyle with you now?”

  “He’s right here. We were going over to his parents’ place for lunch. But now…”

  “Get over there right away. Pick up Tommy at Jake’s house, and take him with you. Stay with the Shinglers until I call you.”

  “Okay,” Laura said. “Love you, Mom. Be careful.”

  “Love you, too. You be careful.”

  I punched Hardy’s number into my cell. He didn’t pick up, so I left a message telling him that Gabe had come to my house, and that I was working at the office.

  Returning my phone to my pocket, I headed back inside, then remembered my coffee. Turning around quickly, I stumbled into the plastic crate that was propping open the door. It skittered onto the fire escape, and I stepped out on the landing to retrieve it. The self-locking door slammed shut behind me.

  Damn! My keys were in my handbag on my desk.

  But I had my phone. I called the property-management office. A recorded voice told me the office would be open at nine the next morning.

  I remembered that Sam had keys to our suite. I hated to bother her on a Sunday, but if I didn’t I’d have to wait until the next morning to get into my office. And she lived only a few blocks away. I punched her number into my phone.

  Amy answered, and passed me to Sam.

  “How’s Mindy?” Sam asked. “Detective Hardy was here this morning.”

  I told her what I knew about Mindy. Then I explained my predicament.

  “I’ll be right over,” she said.

  “I’ll wait on the fire escape.”

  Ten minutes later, Sam careened down the alley on her bike. “Hey!” she said when she braked at the foot of the stairs. “I’ll go around to the front, and let myself in.”

  I ran down the fire escape and tucked her bike behind the staircase. Then I went back up the stairs, and waited at the door.

  Minutes passed. I was wondering what was keeping Sam when the door opened a crack. It opened wider, and Sam poked out her head. Her face was drained of color.

  “What’s the matter?” I slipped my phone into my jacket pocket.

  The door opened wider. Becca, her blond hair in wild disarray, her blue eyes glittering, stood behind Sam. She was pointing a gun at her sister.

  “Get inside, Pat,” she said.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Becca locked the door behind me, her gun still trained on Sam. Another gun. I’d given one of her guns to the police the night before. The gun that killed Riza.

  “Sorry, Pat,” Sam croaked beside me. I could almost smell her fear.

  “Your office?” Becca barked.

  I pointed. “Through that door.”

  “Lead the way.”

  In the next room, Becca motioned Sam and me behind my desk. I took my chair, and Sam perched on the window ledge. Becca sat on a chair facing the desk, holding her gun with both hands.

  “Turn on the computer,” she said.

  I booted up my machine, trying to keep my hands from shaking. I had a pretty good idea what she wanted.

  “The e-mails between Dean and Gabe,” she said.

  I had tucked the flash drive Hardy had given me into a drawer at home. “E-mails between Dean and Gabe?” I asked. “Haven’t come across any. The police took Dean’s computer, and gave me copies of what was on it. I guess they didn’t want to share those messages with me.”

  “Bullshit. You can stop playing games right now.”

  I swiveled away from the screen to face Becca. “The woman you shot last night, Mindy Manuel,” I said. “Don’t you want to know how she is?”

  Becca stared at me impassively.

  “Mindy will be okay,” I said. “She got wind of something you and Gabe were working on, didn’t she?”

  “And now she’s working with Ben,” Becca said.

&
nbsp; She had said it: Ben and Mindy were partners. “And you and Gabe have been squeezed out.”

  She tightened her grip on the gun. “Gabe is furious.”

  “So you went after Mindy,” I said. “For Gabe. You’re his avenging angel.”

  Things were starting to make sense. “And Riza was sniffing around. Your scam had started to unravel.”

  “Riza was making demands,” Becca said.

  “So Gabe killed her,” I said. “Or he had you kill her. Or maybe you killed her on your own. You’d do anything for Gabe, wouldn’t you?”

  She ignored my taunt. “Riza has a lot of relatives. Gabe doesn’t want them taking over her work.”

  “So you tried to eliminate the relative you knew—Mindy. But what I can’t figure out is why you and Gabe staged Mindy’s kidnapping.”

  She frowned. “You dropped in on Mindy out of the blue, and you started asking questions. You had her rattled.”

  “I’m honored that you went to all that trouble for me,” I said. “Was Ben in on it?”

  “Ben was in Muskoka. We didn’t think he’d mind if we borrowed his house for an hour or two.”

  “You wanted me to think that Mindy had been taken by a couple of nameless thugs.”

  She shrugged. “You’d pegged her for Dean’s murder. We were trying to help her.”

  But as soon as Mindy “escaped” from Ben’s home, she ratted on them. “And she double-crossed you. She wanted to get rid of you.”

  “Conniving bitch,” Becca said. “Now we’re in deep shit.”

  I refrained from saying that she’d made their situation a lot worse by shooting Mindy the night before. “Did she kill Dean?”

  “Of course not. She wanted to work with him.”

  “So Gabe killed him. Or his avenging angel did.”

  “Becca, you and Gabe killed Dean?” Sam burst out.

  “Kill him? No way!” Becca’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Ben brought him in to run the financial side of things. Gabe threatened to expose his kid if he didn’t cooperate.”

  The phone on her belt beeped. She unclipped it with one hand, keeping the gun trained on Sam and me with the other. “Gabe?” She paused. “Sam’s here, too. She’ll be right down.”