I took out my notebook and quickly scribbled out, “Let’s talk. Mrs. Scott is here and she will help us sort this out.”
Ed squeezed my arm. “Go girl.”
I started to push my way through the evergreens so I could get back to the path. Zachary must have spotted the movement because he turned, signed something to Hannah who also turned. Then he snatched up Joy, and like startled deer, they began to run back toward the camper.
Ed called over to me. “Shit, Chris, what now?”
“Same scenario. Don’t move yet.”
I reached the path that made walking much easier and began moving at what I hoped looked like a brisk non-threatening pace toward the camper. Zach bundled Joy inside with Hannah close behind.
He followed them but in a moment he was out again, and this time he was carrying a rifle.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
I halted and waved my hand in what I hoped would be construed as a friendly greeting. Behind me in the woods, I heard Ed shout, “Hold it.” I didn’t turn and look at him but I assumed he had come out from his cover. It was often a tough call to show police power. Sometimes it worked and intimidated the bad guys, sometimes it had the opposite effect and panicked them. In this case I thought the latter was going to swing into play. Although Zach hadn’t raised the rifle, his body was tense and on the alert. I could see his quick glance behind me. He stepped back. I started talking, it made me feel better even if he couldn’t hear me.
“Zachary. I’ve just come to see how Joy is doing. We were worried about her. Nobody knew where she was.”
I made a gesture of child, pointed at the camper, and acted out worried. It might not be ASL but it seemed to work. He flapped his free hand in a clear “go away” signal.
Again I heard Ed shout from somewhere behind me. “Christine, we’ve got him covered. If he raises that fucking rifle we’re taking him out.”
I didn’t turn but shouted back. “Not yet. I don’t want the child caught in this.”
Zach must have got the gist of what I was saying because his eyes darted over my head to where I guessed a formidable row of officers were lined up. He took yet another step back so that he was now at the foot of the steps to the camper. I saw him shift his weight so he was more prepared for action.
What action that was I never knew because the door opened and Hannah emerged with Joy in her arms. She grabbed Zachary’s arm, forcing him to face her, and made some fast gestures in the universal language of, “Are you out of your mind?” Joy was making some happy chirrups and pointing at me. She struggled to get to the ground and Hannah put her down, whereupon the child ran over to me, a huge smile on her face. She didn’t see some crazy guy with a rifle and a situation that was potentially extremely dangerous. She saw somebody she knew and had had fun with. She grabbed my hand and tugged me in the direction of the camper. I let her until I was close enough to the two adults that Hannah at least could read my lips.
“We were worried,” I said again. “Nobody knew where Joy was.”
“She is with her father where she belongs,” said Hannah in her harsh voice.
“Will you come and talk to us? Mrs. Scott is here.”
Hannah made signs at Zachary. He replied with some excited gesticulating.
“He wants to know why you have brought the police. She is his child. He has a right to bring her here.”
I wasn’t about to discuss the legalities of non-authorized custody with a rifle as a persuader.
“You must ask Zach to drop his rifle. I would like to take Joy and we can all have a talk.”
“Where?”
“Well there’s not much room in your camper and it’s cold out here. Why don’t we go to the OHHA centre and discuss this?”
She translated this for Zachary, who was still looking mutinous. Finally Hannah placed her hand on his arm in a pleading gesture and he gave a reluctant nod. His eyes were glistening, the pupils dilated. This guy was pumped up, testosterone or synthetic, I didn’t know and didn’t care. He was scary.
“Hannah, please tell him to toss the gun away from him. I don’t feel comfortable with him holding it and above all we don’t want Joy to be frightened.”
She had to know what I was getting at because she was looking pretty frightened herself. I sure hoped she had some influence over him. She signed to Zach. He didn’t do what I’d asked but took a couple of paces away to a tree stump and put the gun on top of it. Then he walked back to us. I was holding my breath. Dear God, Ed, don’t do anything precipitous. Hannah tapped his arm to get his attention and made more signs. He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Then he gave me a grin that in other circumstances I would have called mischievous, made a sign with his right hand and a striking motion against his left. I recognized it from the DVD. His finger was pointed in my direction. The K handshape, to kill. Hannah was already turning away from him and didn’t see what he did.
“Let me get my purse,” Hannah said to me.
I hoped to hell she meant what she said and there wasn’t another gun in the camper.
“I’ll go on ahead with Joy, then. There’s a police car parked just down the lane. We can go in that.”
Joy was still holding on to my hand but I wasn’t sure if she would come with me. I gave her my biggest smile. “Do you want to race me?” I asked and made running movements with my fingers. She grinned with delight and immediately set off down the path. I followed her.
Ed, with his revolver drawn, was on the edge of the clearing. Still trotting, I shouted. “They’ve agreed to talk. Can you hide the cruisers, just one or two will be enough. I don’t want to scare them off.”
It felt strange, acting as casually as I could, trotting fast, and at the same time, shouting anxious messages at a fully armed police contingent.
Ed yelled back. “Copy that.”
Joy slowed down, more interested in my catching her than in winning the race. I grabbed her by the waist and swung her around. This gave me a chance to see what was happening behind me. Hannah was out of the camper and walking down the path, Zach, rifle-less, was a few paces behind her. I spun Joy around again and saw Hannah reach for his hand. I picked up Joy and held her against my chest so she didn’t see the police officers, who were crouched behind the wall, jump up and seize Hannah and Zachary and force them to the ground so they could be handcuffed.
I continued on, carrying her to a waiting cruiser. Mrs. Scott’s anxious face was at the window. I put Joy on the seat.
“Tell her I’ll be right back. We’re going for a ride.”
I closed the door and walked back to the fence.
Ed, grim-faced, was standing over a handcuffed Zachary Taylor who was actually bellowing, half-formed words mixed in with sheer animal sounds that communicated even more. Another officer had Hannah by the arm. She was crying. Her hands were behind her back and she was trying to sniff back the mucus running from her nose and the unwiped tears. I felt sorry for her, but I was thoroughly pissed off. You don’t participate in a situation with an armed man pulling a gun on a police officer and not expect to be taken down. I stood in front of her so she could see what I was saying.
“We are going down to the police station. We will have an interpreter. Do you understand?”
She nodded yes.
“Is the child all right?” Ed asked me.
“She seems fine. Mrs. Scott is with her. I think she should be taken home until we get this sorted.”
We were all moving out of the muddy field now. Zachary, still yelling, was being put into one of the cruisers flanked by two constables. Hannah was being led to another one.
“Let’s go in my car,” said Ed, and he put his arm around my shoulders. It felt really good.
“You gave me a bit of a scare out there, Chris. I have to tell you, my blood pressure must have shot up when that lad appeared with a rifle.”
I grinned at him. “Your blood pressure! You weren’t the one looking down the barrel.”
He gave me a
big squeeze. “You done good, kid.”
“Ed Chaffey. That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard since I was ten.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
The next two hours were filled with the usual police business of writing endless reports, followed by a long interview with both Zachary and Hannah. Mrs. Scott delivered Joy to her home then returned so she could interpret for us. It wasn’t difficult to guess what Zachary was telling her. Joy was his child and he wasn’t happy with the way she was being treated. She should be with him. Hannah had agreed with this, he said. Nora was worse than useless. It had been so easy to lure her out of the house, she was a pothead and should never be looking after Joy. Zach had waited outside the house until Loretta left, then he texted a dealer he knew and said Nora wanted dope right away. By coincidence she had already contacted the guy so she wasn’t suspicious when he called and said he could come right then. They knew she’d done that before; Dee had caught her once and told Hannah about it. Hannah waited until Nora left the house and went in and got Joy. Zach was around the corner in the camper.
“Didn’t you think people would worry about her?” I asked through Mrs. Scott.
“I was going to leave a note,” said Hannah, “but in all the rush I forgot. When we realized the police were involved, we were scared and decided to hide out for a while until we could decide what to do. She was far better off with us and was having a good time.”
“Why the gun when Sergeant Morris approached the camper?” Ed asked Zach.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t loaded. I wanted to scare her away. We didn’t need anybody else. We were doing fine the three of us.”
“That was a stupid and dangerous thing to do,” said Ed. He was angry and didn’t hide it. “You could have got yourself killed. Not to mention the child being in danger.”
Zachary suddenly looked sullen, and to my astonishment, he closed his eyes. He had switched off. That was that. We got more information from Hannah but the picture was now clear. What she did add though was a stunner. She said Zachary had gone to her apartment on Tuesday night. One thing had led to another and he’d stayed with her until the wee hours of the morning. No, she hadn’t told us that because she was embarrassed. What kind of girl sleeps with her best friend’s ex-boyfriend? He hadn’t mentioned a date with Dee but she would swear an oath that he had been at her place by quarter past eleven and stayed late. It never occurred to her that he was a suspect in Dee’s murder. Why did people always think the worst of deaf people?
That was essentially it. If she were to be believed, Zachary had an alibi for the crucial times of Dee’s death.
Finally we wrapped it up. Ed was charging both of them and they were being held over until tomorrow, when the court would set bail or not. We got back to Jessica and she in turn contacted Hannah’s parents who said they would come immediately. I left it in Ed’s hands.
My mind was swirling round and round. It appeared that two of our prime suspects, Sigmund Forgach and Zachary Taylor, were now off the list. That was good on the one hand, but on the other, I felt sick at how chancy it all was. Deidre had been late getting to the appointment with Zach, who had not waited as he’d threatened. Sigmund had let her off at the park and not waited either. After that she’d encountered somebody else who had picked her up, taken her somewhere, and killed her. Here I was on surer ground. The odds were high that this was somebody she knew at least well enough to accept a ride from. Yes, I know it was all happening in small-town Ontario where people never locked their doors and there was no serious crime, but it was getting late and she wasn’t a fool. Don’t get into a car with somebody you don’t know.
Ray had been on the right track at our earlier meeting. We’d been too focused on Deidre’s murder as if it were a celebrity issue, taking the position that her high profile had been what made her a target. This was reinforced by the strange letters she’d received. However, I was becoming more and more convinced this was a random and disorganized act. If it hadn’t been her, it might have been some other woman. So who was on the prowl and what was his territory? If I put Deidre in the picture, both where she lived and where she had been found were in a small area. And that area included Doris Bryant’s apartment. Franklin’s words kept echoing in my head. “Funny cases.” Were the two crimes connected? I’d have to get to Ray and see if we could do a geographic profile. ViCLAS could pull up any other assaults reported in the city in the last year. Where the heck had I left Mrs. Cheevers’s report? It might come in very handy now.
I’d called ahead to Paula to say I was delayed. Mrs. Jackson opened the door but Chelsea was right behind her. I scooped her up and held her so tightly in my arms she yelped.
“Auntie Chris, where’ve you been? We’ve been waiting all day long. Since I got up. Mommy isn’t well and she’s lying down but I’ve been playing with Grandma all the time.”
“And you can tell I’ve run out of ideas,” said Marion with a grin.
“No, we’ve been having lots of fun,” said Chelsea loyally. But Mrs. Jackson looked worn out, and I could see a very energetic six-year-old had taken its toll.
“Paula’s in the living room having a rest.”
Over Chelsea’s head Marion frowned. I gathered Paula hadn’t had a good day.
“Anything happen with that other business?” I asked.
“Not a thing.”
Chelsea looked up at us. “I know what you’re talking about.”
I tweaked her nose. “You do, do you, Miss Clever Clogs?”
“Daddy has gone away for a holiday because his nerves were shredded.”
I gaped at her. “Is that what he said?”
“Yes. He’s been so busy, he said he needs a rest too. Mommy is getting her rest but she had to go to the hospital. He doesn’t have to do that.” She paused. “I think he could have rested here just as well, don’t you, Auntie Chris? There’s a couch downstairs he could use.”
“True. Anyway, let’s go see your mother.”
She skipped ahead of me, calling out, “Mommy, Auntie Chris is here. I think she’s had a hard day. Her nerves look shredded.”
I looked at Marion and we both burst out laughing. “I guess that’s the word of the week, is it?’
“Seems that way, thanks to my son-in-law. It’ll be more than his nerves that are shredded if I get hold of him.”
I went into the living room. Paula was stretched out on the couch and she looked so wretched and ill, I felt a rush of fear. However, she pushed herself into a sitting position when she saw me and waved a mock fist in the air.
“What kept you? No, no, let me guess, you were working, even though today is Sunday and most folks can get the day off. Or are you in it for the overtime?”
This was a running joke at the office. Profilers don’t get overtime. Our hours are Monday to Friday, nine to five. What you do over and above is up to you, just don’t turn in a requisition. I think if we added up and charged for accumulated extra hours, the province would go broke.
I gave her a hug. She seemed to me even thinner and fragile although she’d only been in the hospital a couple of days. She had dark circles under her eyes and her lips were cracked and dry.
“Do you want to see the drawings Grandma and I made?” Chelsea asked.
“Of course I do, what do you think I am, a Philistine? Go get them.”
She raced off. “I’m going to put the kettle on,” said Marion. “And I saved the pancake batter. I can whip you up some pancakes in minutes. Do you want coffee?”
“You bet.”
She went out to the kitchen, tactful as ever. I seized the opportunity.
“Any word from Craig?”
“He sent an email. Probably didn’t want Mom to answer the phone. He said he’ll be away a week maybe less but he has to get away. His nerves are…”
I stopped her. “Let me guess, his nerves are shredded.”
She gave me a wan smile. “Chelsea told you that, did she?”
“The word came up mor
e than once.”
“Chris, how could he do this? I feel like I’ve been living in a dream and I just woke up. He is a self-centred bastard and I couldn’t see it. I know nobody liked him but I kept kidding myself that he was different with me, that I was the only one who understood him. And he adores Chelsea, that counted for a lot.”
I didn’t think this was the time to point out that a man who adores his child doesn’t just take off on her when her mother is ill.
She looked away. “He’s been seeing somebody. I got into his cellphone — yes, I know, but being a detective comes in handy sometimes. There are at least a dozen calls. Easy to trace. There’re all to a Miss Waneta Bloom, great name eh? She works at the golf club. I called there this morning and they said she’s off on sick leave for a week.”
“I guess her nerves are shredded.”
She laughed but tears filled her eyes. Chelsea came bouncing down the stairs with a bundle of papers in her hand.
She immediately started to spread them on the floor. I thought she’d noticed that her mother was crying but chose to ignore it.
So that was about it. I ate Marion’s delicious pancakes with more gusto than I really felt, played with Chelsea a long round of Snap, put her to bed with a story, then spent the rest of the evening with Mrs. Jackson and Paula. I told them what had happened, not holding back on the scene in the field. It was a good distraction for both of them.
“Surely they’d know people would be distraught at Joy’s disappearance,” said Paula. On all of our minds was the horror of anything like that happening to Chelsea.
Finally, Mrs. Jackson asked if I’d stay the night and I agreed. I phoned Gary to ask him to look in on Bertie and Tory. Paula found me some PJs and a toothbrush and at about ten o’clock we all went to bed. At Paula’s request I shared the king-sized bed with her but it wasn’t like it used to be when we were teenagers. There was no giggling together, no sharing of secrets. She took a sleeping pill and fell asleep quickly. In spite of my fatigue, I stayed awake for almost an hour longer, re-experiencing over and over the image of a large young man filled with anger aiming a long-barrelled rifle right at my heart.
The K Handshape Page 33