The big insect had lighted with its head a few inches from her right shoulder. Its tail was pointing diagonally across her breast and the gossamer wings formed a delicate cross. She must surely have felt its touch.
Paul could see her looking down, trying to see it.
“Oh, my beautiful Riley-girl! You look like some goddess from the dawn of history. I’ll never ever forget this. If only I had a camera…”
A second later, the dragonfly took off to resume its hunting circles just above their heads.
Riley looked up for a few moments and watched, the faint snaps of its jaws barely audible as it tried to catch a fly.
Paul ran over and held her, then she took off his shirt and pulled down his pants and laid out their clothes on the grass for a bed. As soon as this was done, they stood before each other as if they were about to engage in some prehistoric ritual. Then the spell was broken. Riley put her arms around his neck and he felt her body pressing against him. Slowly, he lowered her to the ground. Paul couldn’t wait but Riley smiled as they joined together.
“Now,” she whispered. “It has to be now—please, darling.”
Perhaps it was the special surroundings, or perhaps it was the nature of this love act, but Paul’s body responded in a way Riley had never felt before. They flew high above the clearing and saw themselves locked together far below. Meanwhile the dragonfly hawked back and forth, unimpressed, but guarding them from marauding insects.
The crest of Riley’s now familiar wave carried her on and on for longer than ever until at last it broke and she let forth a primitive cry. Then Paul’s lips found hers, and they lay there, panting, their bodies glistening with the sweat of love.
Chapter Sixteen
A Fitting End?
Jean Collins didn’t read the local newspapers on a regular basis. She preferred to stop at a store near the Arts and Culture Centre, occasionally picking up the Globe and Mail. However, one of her jobs at the library was to collect the various dailies and magazines that people had left lying around, and return them to their respective shelves. Sometimes, Jean would glance at their headlines while she folded them. On this first morning after the Labor Day weekend, she noticed a copy of the Evening News that had been left open on a table. She was about to fold it up and put it away when a small headline caught her attention.
Murder Victim Identified
September 4, 1978—Gander. The RCMP reports that the body of a man found near Notre Dame Provincial Park on Labor Day has been identified as that of Jonathan Hynes of St. John’s. A local resident was walking his dog when it ran off the road into the woods and started barking. The owner followed to find the dog sniffing at the body. Sergeant Mark Casey said that death was almost certainly due to multiple stab wounds, but this would be confirmed by an autopsy. To date, no murder weapon has been found and no witnesses have come forward. The investigation is continuing. Mr. Hynes was a technician at the Public Health Laboratories in St. John’s. He was not married.
Jean could scarcely believe her eyes. She began to feel dizzy. There was a rushing sound in her ears as she sank into a chair. Conflicting emotions thrashed about in her brain. She read the article again. Time seemed to stand still until she sensed there was someone beside her. It was her gray-haired, bespectacled supervisor.
“You don’t look well, Jean,” said Mrs. Hiscock.
Jean pulled herself together and folded the paper. “I think I’m coming down with something.”
“In that case, perhaps you should go home.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Hiscock. I think I will.”
Jean put the paper on its shelf then collected her coat from the rack near her desk. On the way out of the building, she picked up a cup of coffee from a machine and drank it in the car. Staring through the windshield, she tried to collect her thoughts.
“Jonathan’s dead. Jonathan’s dead. Jonathan’s dead.” Some inner voice kept repeating the phrase endlessly until a vision of his bleeding body cut off the words. Even though he had treated her like dirt, long suppressed feelings of lingering affection resurfaced with news of his death, but it wasn’t until she remembered their lovemaking that she felt the full impact. It was several minutes before she turned on the ignition.
Jean stopped at a corner store on the edge of town to pick up a News. Before driving on, she read the article again. It was less traumatic this time. The initial shock was wearing off. She would go home, have some more coffee, then see if Riley was in.
The phone rang while Riley was clearing up the kitchen.
“It’s me,” said Jean. “I left work early.”
“Are you all right? You don’t sound so good.”
“I’m fine but something terrible’s happened—Jonathan’s dead!”
“What? But how?”
“Didn’t you get the paper today?”
“No.”
“He was murdered. Stabbed to death. His body was found in the woods near Gander.”
Riley caught her breath. “Oh, no!” she whispered. “How awful! His behavior was unforgivable, but he didn’t deserve to die. To think I only saw him on Thursday. Poor Jean, you must be pretty upset. Tell you what, I’ll come right over and read what the paper says, then we’ll talk it out.”
“That would be a big help. I don’t mind telling you, everything seems unreal, like inside out or something. It’s scary.”
“See you in five, Jean. Bye.”
Riley didn’t waste any time. The news was unnerving. She had never dealt with death at close quarters before, being an infant when her mother died. Granted she was living in the house of her deceased uncle, but she hadn’t even met him and his demise seemed disconnected. But Jonathan—Riley slammed the front door behind her and ran to the Toyota—Jonathan had been living flesh and blood, walking on the very spot beneath her feet just a few days ago. Now he was a cold corpse. She shuddered and got into the car, driving off with unusual care; turmoil in a person’s mind could cause an accident. Three minutes later, she rang Jean’s doorbell.
“It’s open.”
Riley barely heard her voice.
Jean was in the kitchen area. “I’m getting some coffee,” she said.
Her movements seemed excessively rapid, almost jerky; signs of severe distress.
Riley was sure she would lose her self-control. “Take it easy, Jean. You’ll break something in a minute.”
Jean turned and subsided into Riley’s arms. She began to cry as though she’d lost a loving husband instead of an unfaithful boyfriend.
“Hey! Everything will be okay,” said Riley. “It’s an awful shock and your mind isn’t working very well. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll do the coffee?”
Jean stood back and tore a paper towel from a roll by the kitchen sink. After wiping her eyes, she looked at Riley. “I know he was a bastard. But dead! It makes no sense.” With that, she sank into a rocking chair and stared unseeing out of the window.
Riley loaded the coffee maker, turned it on, then looked for the newspaper. It was on the dining table. When she found the right page, the cold, impersonal words of the reporter were hard to believe.
“I wonder who did it?” she said.
“Maybe it was an ex-girlfriend.” Jean’s voice was hard.
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Riley paused as the significance sunk in and a look of horror clouded her features. “Oh, no! This means the police could treat you as a suspect.”
“Except that I spent the whole weekend with my parents in Halifax.”
“That’s a relief, but I suppose we’ll all be grilled by the RCMP. It’s funny they haven’t been after us already. I guess it’s too soon; the body was only found yesterday.” At this point, Riley remembered the bikini affair. It was obviously going to come out in the end, but she’d choose a better time to mention it to Jean.
“I suppose I’ll have to tell them about Jonathan snooping around the house,” she continued. “What a pain John Kelly’s on vacation. I don’t fancy talking to a st
ranger.”
Jean seemed to calm down a little as they talked.
She went over to the counter. “It’s all such a mess. A horrible, twisted mess. I don’t know which way to turn.”
“Let’s drink our coffee and go for a stroll. Maybe our minds will work better when we’re outside.”
“How about Paul? I don’t imagine he’s seen the paper. What time does he finish work?”
“Not until five o’clock. I’ll tell him when he gets home.” Riley poured the coffee.
They sat on stools at the counter, sipping their steaming mugs in silence, each immersed in their own individual thoughts. When the mugs were empty, they put on light jackets and strolled down the lane toward Dog Cove Road. They were about halfway along when the sun peeked through a hole in a layer of broken cloud.
Riley looked up and squinted. “Paul told me that kind of cloud is called stratocumulus. It means there’s no bad weather around. Meteorology sounds kind of boring, don’t you think?”
Jean said nothing. She was looking straight ahead, putting one foot in front of the other, almost like an automaton. At this point, Riley decided it wasn’t a good idea to leave her alone overnight. It would be better if she remained with Jean and left Paul on his own. He would understand.
“Jean, it’s not the end of the world, you know. Life must go on. Look, I think I should stay over, okay?”
“Of course. Yes. That’s sweet of you. And Paul can come to dinner. I’m sure there’s something in the freezer.”
“Don’t worry about that. He can pick up a pizza.”
When they arrived at Dog Cove Road, Riley said, “Let’s walk toward the bay; it’s a super view, isn’t it?”
Jean ignored the comment. “Do you remember the day I invited you to dinner to meet Jonathan? We had a barbecue.”
“Sure I do. It was nice.”
“I’ve just thought of something. It was the way he looked at you. You know what, he was undressing you.”
“Come on, Jean—”
“It’s true. Didn’t you notice?”
“Um…no.”
Jean put a hand on Riley’s shoulder and they stopped at the edge of the road.
“But there was something, I’m sure of it. You thought he was sexy, didn’t you?”
“Jean, please…Yes, he was good-looking, but I didn’t fancy him. Not one bit.”
“But he fancied you, right? That’s why he was he spying on you.”
“Yes, I know.” It slipped out before Riley could stop herself.
“How?”
“It’s a long story. I didn’t want to upset you, but I guess I’ll have to tell you.” Riley took Jean’s hand for a moment, then they turned back toward the lane. “One day, not long after that dinner, I was sunbathing on the lawn in my bikini. It was really hot, so I took off the bra and fell asleep. When I woke up, there was Jonathan…” Riley left out nothing.
“Please forgive me for not telling you before,” she concluded. “I was afraid of ruining our friendship.”
Jean remained silent for a few moments. “I guess it’s all right,” she said. “I might have been upset at the time, but now he’s dead, it doesn’t matter. And as for our friendship, as far as I’m concerned it’s as good as ever.”
“For me, it’s even better,” said Riley. “Let’s give Jonathan a rest.”
“Agreed.”
As soon as they got back to the house, Jean went to find some sheets and pillowcases for the spare bed while Riley headed for the phone to contact Paul. She noticed it was a new one. An answering machine beside it had a red light, which was flashing.
“There’s a message for you,” called Riley.
“I’ll get it in a minute. Go ahead and talk to Paul.”
Riley dialed the number. She asked him to come to Jean’s house after work and pick up a large pizza on the way. Paul must have been busy—he hung up immediately.
Jean emerged from the bedroom and joined Riley at the counter. The answering machine came to life as she pressed the requisite button.
“This is the Constable Taylor speaking. Please call the Topsail Road station as soon as you return. We would like to ask you a few questions regarding the death of Mr. Jonathan Hynes.” The caller gave a number then there was a beep as the machine turned itself off.
“I’m not looking forward to this,” said Jean. “If they want me to go to the station, maybe you could come too.”
“Of course.”
Jean dialed the number at once. All she said was, “Yes, that will be fine.”
She put down the receiver and turned to Riley.
“They’re coming here right now. Do you mind staying?”
“Of course not, dummy. I’ll tell them about the bikini business so they won’t have to come to my place later.” Riley smiled. “Next thing you know, I’ll be their number one suspect!”
Jean and Riley watched through a window as the police cruiser stopped behind the Toyota, completely filling the driveway. Two burly officers got out, but Jean waited for them to ring the bell before opening the front door.
“I’m Constable Taylor and this is Constable Byrne,” said the tallest. “You must be Jean Collins. May we come in?”
Jean stood to one side and indicated Riley. “This my friend, Riley Barnett. She lives up Dog Cove Road.”
“Riley Barnett?” Taylor queried. “We were at your house recently. There was a call from a Mr. Sutherland about some intruders.”
“That was Paul,” replied Riley. “He was looking after the place while I was away.”
Jean indicated the settee. “Have a seat, please, and we’ll do our best to help you.”
As soon as everyone was settled and Constable Byrne had his notebook ready, his partner began the questioning.
He explained how a coworker of Jonathan Hynes had mentioned that Jean had been going out with the deceased for some time. He asked her if the relationship existed up to the time of his death. Jean remained composed as she described how they had broken up.
“Where were you during the Labor Day weekend?” asked Constable Byrne.
“With my parents in Halifax,” Jean replied. “We were visiting relatives.”
“And where do your parents live?”
Jean gave the address and added, “But they’re in Halifax until Sunday. I can give you the phone number if you want to talk to them.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Taylor.
Byrne turned to Riley. “Were you acquainted with Mr. Hynes?”
“Yes, I was.” Riley elected to tell them everything and get it over with. “As a matter of fact, we had a couple of what you might call confrontations,” she began.
The two policemen looked at each other.
First, she described when she met Jonathan at the barbecue, then the bikini incident, and finally what had happened when she caught him snooping around the house.
“To save you asking,” she concluded, “I spent the whole weekend with Paul. He’s my partner.”
“That’s quite a story,” said Taylor. “Is Mr. Sutherland at work?”
“Yes. He finishes at five.”
Byrne glanced at his watch. “It’s almost two o’clock now. We’ll call in and go on to the airport.”
The two policemen stood. “Thank you for your cooperation, ladies. We’ll be in touch very soon.”
Jean saw them to the door.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” commented Riley. “I’m sure they think Paul and I are involved. The main thing is, you’re off the hook. Still, I hope John Kelly will be brought into the investigation when his vacation’s over. He’s no fool, and should be able to tell us if there’s any connection between Jonathan’s death and what’s happened to me.” Riley glanced at the phone. “I think I’d better warn Paul that Constables Taylor and Byrne are on their way; it’s a good thing he knows them.”
The growl of the Mustang was a welcome sound for Riley. It meant that the vague emptiness that was always
there when she and Paul were apart would soon disappear.
Riley heard it before Jean. “There’s Paul. I’ll get the door. He’s got a pizza to contend with.”
She hurried outside, leaving Jean on the settee.
Paul had just lifted the big flat box from the trunk. Riley slammed it shut.
He balanced the box on one hand and they kissed.
“Sorry to be so short on the phone. I was briefing a pilot.”
“I guessed as much. Paul, my love, I’m staying with Jean tonight. Hope you don’t mind, she’s in quite a state.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said as they walked along the path to the house. “You’re a thoughtful person.”
“How did you get on with the constables?”
“As you know, they’re the same guys who answered my 911 call while you were in Rocky Harbour. They’re quite nice and it made things a lot easier.”
Riley held the front door for Paul and followed as he took the pizza to the kitchen table. Jean was standing by the stove.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“A bit better, I guess.”
“Good. It was a shock for all of us, especially you.”
“I’ve put on the oven to reheat the pizza,” said Jean, “not that I can eat much. And there’s beer in the fridge.”
“Let’s eat first and talk afterwards,” Riley suggested.
It was a while before they finished and began to compare their interviews with Constables Taylor and Byrne. Paul and Riley sat together on the settee with Jean in a rocking chair.
“They didn’t give much away,” Riley commented as she finished their side of the story.
“I got the impression the investigation was going nowhere,” Paul added. “Taylor said they had given up searching for the murder weapon, but an autopsy would indicate what kind of knife it was.”
Riley turned to Paul. “Do you realize that we’re probably the number one suspects?”
“It did cross my mind, but there’s no need to worry as we know we didn’t do it.”
She Came From Away Page 18