“I think I’ll join you. Take a seat on the deck. I won’t be a minute.”
As soon as they were settled, John Kelly opened his notebook then Riley went through the events leading up to Paul’s discovery of the empty cartridge case.
“Too bad you handled it without gloves,” commented the sergeant when Riley’d finished. “Still, I doubt if there were any useful prints. The weather would see to that.”
“Sorry, John. It never crossed my mind.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not trained detectives. I’ll give Mr. Sutherland a call to see if he has anything to add.”
“Paul’s probably sleeping right now,” said Riley. “He’s on nights at the weather office.”
“In that case, I won’t disturb him. I can phone from home this evening. When would be a good time?”
“He starts work at eight. It would be best to call him at the weather office.” Riley took a drink of Ginger Ale. “I didn’t actually see him pick up the cartridge case, but I can show you roughly where it was.”
“Good. I’ve written everything else down, so let’s go.”
They walked along the path through the woods to the place where the house was visible. Riley pointed out the blueberry bush.
“I think it was stuck inside,” she said.
Kelly bent down and peered at the ground cover, then looked up toward the house. He made some notes before searching the immediate area. Riley watched in silence.
The sergeant poked around in the underbrush for a few minutes, then straightened up. “One thing seems likely: that bullet wasn’t a stray after all. I’ll know real soon if it matches the case, but I’m certain we’ll find it does. That will settle the matter.”
“Paul and I came to the same conclusion. It’s scary.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone’s trying to kill you. All they want to do is frighten you. Everything that’s happened points to it. But still, I’m worried.” John Kelly fished a handkerchief out of his trousers’ pocket and mopped his brow. “Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do as there’s nothing to go on. The cartridge case and the bullet are virtually useless without the gun to go with them. Like I said on the day it happened, we can’t test every .300 rifle in Newfoundland.”
“I appreciate that,” said Riley.
“But there’s one thing we can do,” Kelly concluded, “and that’s to provide you with surveillance, so don’t be surprised if the occasional patrol car comes up your driveway. And be sure to report anything the least bit suspicious, day or night.”
“Of course. And it’s comforting to know that you’re looking after me.”
Chapter Eleven
Summer Vacation
Jean Collins had been feeling a bit lonely of late. She had seen Jonathan only once during the week preceding Regatta Day; he had paid her a brief afternoon visit on the Friday. Their lovemaking was, to say the least, unsatisfactory. Jonathan explained that rigorous training for the event had made him overtired. Just as he was leaving, he wound down the car window and dropped a bombshell. Immediately after the races were over, he was going on a two-week business trip to Halifax. Not only that, he wouldn’t be able to see Jean again before catching his plane. She had sensed that all was not quite right, but there was nothing that could be done except await his return. Hopefully, things would get back to normal.
The Public Library where Jean worked was several miles from downtown St. John’s. As a result, she seldom went shopping there during lunch breaks; she was always late getting back. Wednesday, August 9 was, however, an exception. Her mother had told her about two new lines of fall coats at Bowring’s, a fashionable store on Water Street. There weren’t many left in her size, so she decided not to wait until the weekend before checking them out.
Jean had no trouble locating a parking spot a few minutes’ walk from her destination. It was a relief to get out of her hot, sun-baked car, which didn’t have air conditioning. A pale blue, sleeveless summer dress allowed a light breeze off the harbor to make her comfortable as she threaded her way along the crowded sidewalk to the store.
The coats proved disappointing, so she went to the cafeteria and bought a sandwich and Coke for lunch. Jean was lucky to find an empty table by a window that looked out over Harbour Drive. She was gazing absentmindedly at a red and white Coastguard icebreaker tied up at the wharf, when she saw Jonathan. For a moment, she thought it was someone else; he wasn’t due back from Halifax for another week. Then she stared, mesmerized at the pretty dark girl who was with him. They were holding hands and looking at each other, the girl with lovesick adoration. Jean slowly put her half-eaten sandwich back on the plate. The young woman, who was wearing a sexy yellow sun top, was none other than one Lucy Miles, an old high school acquaintance.
All at once, everything fell into place. She had been dumped.
Her first instinct was to leave the cafeteria and follow them, but what was the point? Instead, she considered what to do next. It wasn’t difficult. The thought of facing Jonathan again was more than she could stomach. She would say what she had to on the phone.
Back at work, Jean found it almost impossible to keep her mind on what she was doing. The obvious answer was to get the phone call over and done with. The first place to try was the Public Health Labs, where he was supposed to be at work. She therefore sought the comparative privacy of an isolated pay phone on the main floor of the Arts and Culture Centre. When Jonathan’s extension was picked up, she took a deep breath.
“Hello,” came the answer. “This is Michael Puddester. How may I help you?”
Jean seemed to deflate. “Is Jonathan there?”
“I’m afraid not. He called in sick.”
“Did he, now?” She tried not to sound sarcastic. Michael Puddester had been at one of Jean’s parties; she had chatted with him for a while. Maybe he knew something. “Michael, this is Jean Collins. Did he say what the problem was?”
“No, he didn’t. He’s been in all week and seemed fine.”
“Thanks a lot. I’ll call him at home after work.”
Jean walked slowly back to her desk. She did her best to look busy, but it was hard since Michael had confirmed that Jonathan lied about going to Halifax. It looked as though he needed her out of the way so he could get Lucy Miles into bed. Well, he was in for an earful now that she knew what was what. After a decent interval, Jean returned to the pay phone and dialed his apartment.
She got the answering machine.
When the beep sounded for a message she said, “Please call me as soon as you can, Jonathan. It’s important. I’ll be home around five-thirty.”
The remainder of the afternoon eventually expired. Jean was hardly aware of the drive to St. Peter’s and on arriving at the house, she went straight to the phone. Once again, she got the answering machine, but this time she didn’t leave a message. Then it hit her. While Jonathan wouldn’t expect her to call, he’d avoid taking any chances. If his phone rang, he would wait until the answering machine’s speaker came on so he could hear who was on the line. If it wasn’t her, he could pick up the receiver and interrupt the message. By speaking to the machine at work, she had given herself away. Now he would never call.
Feeling disconsolate, she tried to eat a light dinner. As she did so, it came to her that Jonathan wasn’t worth bothering about and as for Lucy, she could bloody well learn her lesson the hard way.
Jean hardly slept at all that night. Perhaps it was because her queen-sized bed felt tainted by the extremes to which she had gone with Jonathan. She would turn the mattress and buy new sheets. Another thing that would help was to talk with Riley. They hadn’t seen much of each other of late. It was time to put that right.
At lunchtime she called the house on Dog Cove Road. Riley answered immediately.
“Hi, how’s things?” Jean greeted.
“Okay, more or less. What about you?”
“Not so hot, as a matter of fact. I could really do with some company. How abou
t coming over tomorrow? I have the afternoon off.”
“You do sound down. I’d love to see you, but Paul’s on nights and I’m feeding him before he goes to work. He’ll be here between four and five. Look, why don’t you stop by and join us for an early dinner? If you come straight from the library, we’ll have plenty of time for a chat. What’s up, anyway?”
“Jonathan and I broke up.”
Riley paused. “That’s crappy. Please come tomorrow. Maybe if you talked to someone…”
“You’re the first person I thought of. Besides, it’s high time we got together again. But I don’t want to barge in on your dinner.”
“Don’t be silly. You won’t be barging in. This will be the first of many meals. The next one’s breakfast. He’s going to drop in on his way home.”
“Well…if you’re sure. See you tomorrow. And thanks!”
As she hung up, Jean couldn’t help remembering that it wasn’t long since she had shown off Jonathan to Riley. Now the tables were turned.
At midday on Friday, heavy thunderstorms moved in. Riley was disappointed. She had spent the morning cleaning a round white plastic table that she’d noticed in the basement. While small enough to carry a short distance, it was large enough to seat four for a picnic in the garden. She had planned to set it up on the lawn for a barbecue dinner. When she’d told Paul that Jean was coming, he said he’d been wanting to meet her and this would be a good opportunity. As for the table, Riley left it to the mercy of the rain beside the garden seat. Another sluicing wouldn’t do it any harm.
When Jean arrived, the lightning was putting on quite a display over Bell Island. She got out of her car with a raincoat over her head and ran to the front door where Riley was waiting.
Jean removed the dripping garment. “This is quite something,” she said. The long-sleeved white blouse and black skirt that she was wearing were a little wet as well. “We don’t get many of these on the Avalon.”
“Just like home,” said Riley. “Let’s have your coat and I’ll hang it in the bathroom.”
Jean followed and stood outside the bathroom door. “That coffee smells good.”
Riley hooked the coat over the showerhead. “Did you have any lunch? I can make sandwiches, if you like. Or how about ice cream?”
“That would be perfect. I had a sandwich earlier on.”
A brilliant flash of lightning was followed by a loud clap of thunder that shook the house.
“Wow!” cried Jean as they went into the kitchen.
Riley started the coffee machine. “I’m just going to change into something cooler. Won’t be a minute.”
By the time she returned in her red sun top and pale beige shorts, the coffee was almost ready. While Riley found mugs and milk, Jean dished out the ice cream into glass bowls. They carried them through to the dining table and sat opposite one another.
“How’s Paul?” Jean asked. “I’m looking forward to meeting him. He sounds fantastic.”
“Actually, I haven’t seen him since Monday. It seems that the first few days on night shift always tire him out. All he does is eat and sleep.”
Jean took a mouthful of coffee. “You said it would be an early dinner. I ought to leave at sevenish, if that’s okay. My parents have asked me over for the evening.”
“No problem. I was planning to eat around five-thirty. But about Jonathan, you don’t have to tell me if—”
“Riley, I want to. You’re the only person I can really talk to and I know it will help.”
“That’s what friends are for, aren’t they? When did it start?”
“I had a feeling there was something wrong just before the regatta, then a couple of days ago, completely out of the blue, everything fell apart. One minute, life was like normal and the next minute—wham!”
Riley began to feel guilty. If she’d told Jean about the incident with Jonathan and the bikini, this unexpected letdown might have been avoided, but she couldn’t be sure until she’d heard the whole story. “Go on. How did things go wham?”
“Well…like I said, it started before the regatta. Jonathan said he was going to Halifax for two weeks right after the races and wouldn’t be able to see me before he left. That meant our original plan to take in the evening’s festivities was off. I thought it was a bit mean and didn’t feel like watching him row.”
“Did he call you from Halifax?” asked Riley.
“Yes. On Friday morning, but I wasn’t home. There was a short message on my answering machine saying that everything was going well. I had no idea what ‘everything’ was. He never told me. The crunch came a week after Regatta Day when he was still in Halifax, or supposed to be. I went shopping downtown during my lunch hour, which I hardly ever do. And there he was, large as life, walking along Harbour Drive with a girl I knew at high school. They were holding hands and she was looking at him all ga-ga. I called Jonathan at work, but they told me he was off sick. He’d been in earlier in the week, though.”
Riley finished a mouthful of ice cream. So Jonathan was a scumbag after all. “What happened next?”
Jean was staring at the table, her eyes moist. “Nothing. I tried another phone call, but he didn’t answer. I’ve decided not to bother any more.” Jean sniffed and wiped her eyes with a paper napkin.
Riley went around the table. “Hey! I’m sure it’s for the best.” She pulled up another dining chair and put an arm around her friend’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” said Jean. “I’m behaving like a child.”
“Of course you’re not. I was in a much worse state when I split up with my boyfriend in Toronto. How about I make some fresh coffee?” Riley stood and squeezed Jean’s shoulder affectionately.
As the coffee maker began to gurgle, she glanced at the kitchen clock then out of the window. It was still bucketing with rain but the thunder was distant now. Hopefully, the weather would clear before Paul arrived and it was time for the barbecue, otherwise she’d invoke plan B.
Riley steered the conversation away from Jonathan to try and make Jean feel better. After fresh coffee and second helpings of ice cream, she seemed more cheerful. Also, the rain had stopped and a watery sun was poking through the broken clouds.
Riley opened the deck door. “I think the grass is too wet to eat on the lawn, don’t you? Let’s have dinner here. It’s a bit of a job moving the barbecue anyway.”
“I’ve always liked your deck,” said Jean, “in spite of our narrow escape.”
The sky continued to clear as the afternoon slid past; by the time they had walked to the store for tomatoes and lettuce, a warm sun was bathing the garden.
They were preparing dinner in the kitchen when the Mustang’s muted roar preceded it up the driveway.
“Here he is!” exclaimed Riley.
“I hope you warned him I was coming,” said Jean.
“I sure did.”
Riley went onto the deck as Paul got out of the car and looked around.
“That storm was something, wasn’t it?” he said. “I was just checking to see of there were any trees down. Thunderstorm winds can cause a lot of damage. We call them gust fronts.”
“Come on in, Mr. Meteorologist. Jean’s waiting to meet you.”
Paul pushed an errant lock of blond hair from his eyes as he started up the gravel path to the house.
Riley met him at the front door and they kissed briefly. She followed Paul into the dining area just as Jean came out of the kitchen. She desperately wanted them to hit it off, in the right way, of course.
Jean extended a hand without waiting to be introduced. “You’re Paul and I’m Jean,” she said with a smile. “Hi!”
“And hi to you!” Paul replied. “I’m supposed to say, ‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ but it sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
Jean let go of his hand and sat in an armchair while Riley and Paul occupied the sofa. Riley was surprised how Paul had charmed Jean out of what was left of her depression even though he knew nothing of what had happene
d.
After that, they talked about the thunderstorm, which led Jean to quiz Paul about his job. Then Riley remembered she hadn’t said anything about the cartridge case.
“There’s something I forgot to tell you, Jean. Paul found a cartridge case in the woods and gave it to the Police. It looks as though that bullet wasn’t a stray after all. Someone deliberately took a shot at us.”
“Oh, hell! Which means, if you add all the other things—”
“Like John Kelly said, that someone wants to scare me off.”
Paul turned to Jean. “Don’t worry about Riley. She’ll be quite safe. The RCMP’s going to keep an eye on this place, so am I.”
Riley stood and pulled Paul to his feet. “How about starting the barbecue? It takes quite a while to get going.”
The meal went well. The steak was tender and tasty, and Doris’s homegrown tomatoes were a real treat.
Almost an hour after they’d finished, Jean glanced at her watch. “I have to head home, folks. And thanks for the great dinner.”
Paul pushed back his chair.
“I’ll move the Mustang,” he said.
Riley watched as he reversed the car so that Jean could drive off.
When Paul returned to the deck, she took both his hands.
“I’m going to tidy up a bit,” she said. “The dirty dishes are attracting a lot of flies. After that we can relax for a bit.”
“I’ll help.”
“No you won’t, not with a night’s work ahead of you. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa.”
Riley carried the plates and empty glasses into the kitchen and washed them, then she joined Paul. Their kiss was long and lingering. When they separated, she leaned against him. The red sun top slipped down a little as he stroked the smooth skin of her neck and shoulders. Riley felt a rush of desire at his touch. She couldn’t have stopped him if he’d gone any further. But she sensed he was reluctant. Perhaps he wanted to wait until they had more time.
She drew back and sighed. “I wish you weren’t on nights. We’ve only got half an hour before you have to leave. It screws up everything.”
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