Kill Her Twice

by G A Pickstock

  Chapter 6

  Country living agreed with Roy. Thirty acres, only ten minutes from town, made for an idyllic spot to raise two kids. Long gone now, with kids of their own, his son, Dustin, now in his mid-thirties, worked in Toronto as a security analyst. A single dad, Dustin’s wife succumbed to brain cancer only four years after they were married. Knowing the challenges of raising a child on his own, Roy had asked him to move back to Clarksville many times. There was plenty of room for all of them, and he could babysit Jimmy and take some of the pressure off. Nevertheless, Dustin resisted his offers, opting instead to tough it out on his own.

  His daughter, Erin, on the other hand, virtually lived at the house. The younger of his two children, she was only five years old when mummy went away. Even at such a young age, Erin displayed a natural instinct to mother the family. She would often pitch in and help with the household chores, many times surprising Roy with her level of maturity. After attending community college, she met and married John Robinson, a veterinarian with his own animal hospital in town. Despite being certified as a teaching assistant, Erin opted to stay at home and raise their three children. She loved the farm. It was a great place to grow up, and her kids loved riding the horses and feeding the chickens.

  Roy shared the rambling old farmhouse with his beagle Roger and two cats, Charlotte and Azner. Azner was getting old, and his prowling days were over. Roy figured Azner had probably sired most of the kittens born within five miles of his place; indeed, all of the barn cats were his. Charlotte, on the other hand, had been fixed as soon as she was old enough. Barn cats were one thing, but too many house cats—well, that’s another matter. As for Roger, his hunting days were over. He was content to lie in the lap of luxury on his comfy little love-seat in air-conditioned comfort, waiting for Roy to toss him a treat every now and then.

  Today, Erin was at the house with the kids. Summer vacation was spent almost entirely on the farm. With so much for them to do here, she hardly ever saw them. She doted on her dad. It hadn’t been easy for him, raising two kids on his own, but he had done well for himself. She often wondered why he never remarried. He had dated a bit but never had any serious relationship with anyone.

  Watching his grandkids splash around in the pool with Roger literally lying on his feet, Roy soaked up the warm summer sun. It made his old bones feel good, and he loved sharing his time with the kids. Slipping into a semi-daydream, and almost drifting off to sleep, he heard Erin talking on the phone.

  “Hello. Yes, he is here can I ask who’s calling? Oh, hi, I’ll get him for you, hang on a sec.” She took the phone out to her dad.

  “Dad, its Bill Peters on the phone for you.”

  “Bill Peters? Where—? Oh yeah, he used to work with your mother at the accounting office. What could he possibly want?” He took the phone from his daughter. “Bill! My God, I haven’t seen you in years, how are you?”

  “I’m doing fine, Roy, yes, it’s been a long time. Not since —”

  “What can I do for you?” Roy interrupted his stammer. He couldn’t imagine why he would be calling.

  “Well, nothing really. I just wondered if you had heard about Kallita.”

  Kallita’s name hit him like a shot to the heart. Roy’s chest tightened, and his stomach did a flip. His mind raced, wondering what this could be about. He hadn’t thought about Kallita in so long he’d almost forgotten her. If it wasn’t for the strong resemblance of Erin to her mother, he probably could forget Kallita altogether.

  “Kallita? Heard? Heard what?”

  * * *

  Roy’s brain tried to assimilate the information he’d been given. He sat transfixed. Before him, the kids splashed about in the pool. The horses gambolled about the pasture, and the forest beckoned to him. He saw it all, yet he didn’t see any of it; all he could see was that day…

  * * *

  January 1992

  Roy recognized his wife’s voice and knew immediately that the recipient of her wrath was in serious trouble. His spirit screamed at him to step in and put an end to it. Instead, he hid in his office as his wife injected her venom into the unfortunate soul who had inadvertently stepped into Kallita’s den. His heart sank as he peered through the one-way window at the scene before him. Of all people to walk into Kallita’s cross-hairs, Mary Taylor had to be the last person who deserved it and the only one that Kallita would take the greatest pleasure in ruining. Kallita’s rage enveloped Mary, wrapping her in an ever-tightening coil of verbal abuse designed to constrict and reduce its prey to a quivering mass of unrecognizable flesh. Kallita’s ability to intimidate was almost instinctive. She was so adept at destroying people with verbal assaults that Roy truly believed it was part of her DNA. He should have intervened, but he knew that his interference would only escalate a situation that, in fact, ended as abruptly as it began. When he finally did venture forth into the dining room, Sandra was consoling Mary as she stood shaking, her eyes and cheeks wet with tears, her hands trembling as she accepted a glass of water from Sandra. Roy moved to Mary’s side, taking her arm as he guided her into a booth by the window. He could see his wife glaring at him from the parking lot, her lips clenched shut so tightly, forming a thin line between her chin and her nose. Her eyes bored into him like searing-hot irons, finally releasing their hold on him as she slipped and slid her way to her car. Spinning her tires as she sped out of the lot. Trying to dismiss the thoughts of the retribution he would endure once he got home, he turned his attention back to Mary. He wanted to comfort her. He had seen this act play out before, but Mary was absolutely devastated, and he knew something had to be done. Kallita could not be allowed to continue to treat people this way. He had endured her behaviour for more than eight years. It was time to put an end to it. All he had to do was sum up the courage to confront her. The decision was made. He would do it tonight…

  … “What does it mean, dad?” Erin had only heard one side of the conversation. “Is mom alive? Have they found her?”

  “Huh, ah, I don’t know, honey. I don’t think—uhm, it seems someone found your mom’s purse. I don’t know…” His voice trailed off, losing himself in the lure of the tranquillity of the forest. “I think I’ll take a walk. C’mon Roger.”

  Chapter 7

  Not much happened around the detachment that Dan Clifford didn’t pick up on. Colm’s ushering a pretty girl into an interrogation room piqued his interest. Turning to the monitor on his desk, he tapped a button on his keyboard. He listened to their conversation as he completed the monthly service reports that were due yesterday. Something about and old purse caught his attention. Immediately irked that his Detective Sergeant would waste his time on a lost and found item, he reached for his phone to call him in and ream his ass, the name “Kallita Prewitt” froze him in his tracks. Jesus! After all this time, who the hell is digging her up? Shoving his paperwork aside, he gave Colm’s interview his full attention. Images of long ago flashed through his mind. I’ve got to nip this in the bud. Right now!

  Intercepting them as they exited the room, Clifford pulled Colm aside to speak to him, leaving Emily standing in the corridor alone. Standing little more than ten feet away, she heard most of the muted conversation.

  “What’s this all about?’ Clifford reached out to take the paperwork from Colm.

  “Just a lost purse, Sarge, I thought I would look into it a bit. She seems anxious to find the owner.” Colm knew it was weak. What he really wanted was to find a way to see her again.

  “And do you think this is what you’re getting paid to do? There’s more pressing matters than a lost purse. Tell this girl you’ll have someone check it out and put an end to it. I can’t have a Detective Sergeant under my command chasing around after lost purses.”

  “But Sarge, this one is diff—”

  “Put an end to it! It’s not worth your time!” He snatched the purse away from him. “I’ll put this where it belongs. Did you hear that, young lady?” He raised his voice for Emily to hear. “We’ll see to
it that this gets processed according to the proper procedures. That’s all we can do for now. Thank you for bringing it in. Detective, see the young lady out and report back to my office.” Clifford turned and marched back into his office.

  Colm reeled at this sudden intrusion. Clifford was tough, but this was not his usual style. Confused by the Staff Sergeant’s demeanour, he led Emily back to the reception area. He shook Emily’s hand, holding it longer than necessary.

  “I don’t know what just happened there, it’s not like him to jump all over us like that. I promise I’ll find out what’s going on and keep in touch.”

  “Thank you.” Emily let go of Colm’s hand. Firm but gentle, his handshake spoke volumes. Yes, she could see herself with this one. “I hope you’re not going to get in trouble.”

  “Ah, sure ‘n trouble’s me middle name, don’t cha know.” He grinned, his eyes twinkled as he turned to leave. “I’ll call you, believe it.”

  * * *

  “Close the door.” Staff Sergeant Clifford didn’t look up from the papers on his desk. “Take a seat.” He shuffled the papers around and rummaged through a drawer delaying just long enough to make Colm a little uncomfortable. The only sound in the room came from the air-conditioning ducts. Finally, Clifford turned his attention to Colm.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours? I’ve looked inside that purse. It’s over twenty-five years old for God’s sake.” He knew it had to be. Kallita Prewitt went missing on his watch when he was a constable on night patrol. “I can’t have you wasting time on a twenty-year-old lost purse. I don’t care how cute she is.”

  Colm blushed at the reference to Emily. He opened his mouth to speak. Clifford held his hand up to stop him.

  “No, don’t speak listen. You have more important things to be doing with your time. There are at least a half dozen burglaries, not to mention two armed robberies open on your desk. Concentrate on your open cases. This purse is not one of them. Do I make myself clear?”

  Colm nodded. “I’ve just one question, if I may.”

  “Alright, one question. What?”

  “Well, sir, you’re right about the age of that purse and everything in it. Don’t you think it’s a little bit odd that it should be found now and buried in that girl’s back garden? It’s a mystery to me. I would think it’d be a mystery to you as well. Especially since everything valuable in it, was still intact. Right down to the cash.”

  “I’ll decide what’s a mystery and what isn’t. You do as you’re told. Dismissed!” Clifford waved his hand toward the door. “Close it on your way out.”

  Colm reached for the purse and his paperwork. “I’ll take these down to property then, shall I?”

  “No, I’ll deal with this stuff, you just get to work.”

  Clifford watched as the door closed and latched shut. Picking up the purse, he stuffed the paperwork inside and closed it up. He remembered Kallita Prewitt only too well. It was inconceivable to him that she should surface again after twenty-some years, yet here she was as if it were yesterday.

  * * *

  April 1983

  “911 what’s your emergency?”

  “My husband’s going nuts! He’s threatening to kill me! Send the police, please!”

  “Is he armed? Does he have a weapon?”

  “No, no, he’s just banging shit around and threatening me.”

  “OK, try to stay calm, the police are on their way. Are there any guns in the house?”

  “Yes, he has three handguns.”

  “Where are the guns right now?”

  “I don’t know, I think he has them in the safe, but I’m not sure. I’m afraid he’s going to kill me.”

  “Try to stay calm. Where are you? Are you in the house?”

  “Yes, I’m in the bedroom, it’s an apartment on the third floor at the end of the hall.”

  “Where is your husband? Is he still in the apartment?”

  “I’m not sure. I think so—I can’t hear him anymore, he might have left.”

  “Stay where you are. The police are a minute away. Are you sure he’s not in the apartment?”

  “No, I don’t hear him, but I’m not leaving this room.”

  “Good, stay put, and the police should be there soon. What is your name?”

  “Kallita, Kallita Robbins. Robbins-Taylor, that’s my married name.”

  “Alright, Kallita, the police are in the hallway. They are going to knock on the door, do you hear them?

  She could hear the banging on the door as the police announced their presence. “Yes, I hear them. I don’t think my husband is here, I can’t tell for sure, but I don’t hear him moving around.” The banging persisted. “I’m going to check.”

  “Alright, Kallita, I’ll tell the police you’re coming to the door.”

  “I don’t see him.” Kallita kept the ruse up. She made a fuss of unlocking the door and letting the police into the apartment. “They’re inside. My husband’s not here.”

  “OK, Kallita, I’m going to hang up now. You’re safe, good luck.”

  Constable Dan Clifford knew what he’d be walking into before he knocked on the door. He wasn’t merely an OPP officer; he was also the cousin of Kallita’s husband. He had been one of Mark’s groomsmen at their wedding. He’d witnessed Kallita’s act before, making him suspect that this episode was simply another attention-getter.

  Upon seeing Dan, Kallita began sobbing. “Oh, Dan! Mark’s gone crazy.” Tears streamed down her face as she turned to face him. “He threatened to kill me. You have to find him before he comes back.”

  “What exactly happened here?” Dan had little sympathy for her. Kallita had the uncanny ability to cry on cue.

  “I don’t know exactly. When I got home, he was in a mood. Before I knew it, he was banging shit around and threatening to kill me. I have no idea what he’s upset about, but something pissed him off, and he’s taking it out on me.”

  “Where does Mark keep his guns?” Dan began to search the closet next to the apartment door.

  “The safe is in the spare bedroom. I think they are locked up in there.” Dan turned to his partner, nodding toward the bedroom hallway. Nodding back, she moved through the bedrooms, searching for weapons.

  “Do you know where he might have gone?” Dan had an idea where Mark might be, but if Kallita knew, then he could wrap this up quickly. His partner came back into the room after checking the bedroom. She shook her head.

  “If the guns are here, they must be in the safe.” She turned to Kallita. “Do you have the combination? I’d like to be certain that all of his firearms are secure.”

  Kallita shook her head. “No, he won’t tell me what it is. Says it’s better if I don’t know. It pisses me off, really. And no, I don’t know where he is. Frankly, wherever he is, he can stay there.”

  “OK, Kallita. So, where do you want to take this?” Dan didn’t like her, and he’d told Mark this more than once. “Are you going to swear out a complaint, or do you just want me to have a talk with him?” Dan hoped he could wrap this up, but he knew that if she insisted on pursuing it, he would have to arrest his cousin and press formal charges.

  “Where do I sign? I don’t want him back here. Lock his ass up and throw away the key! At least until I can get the locks changed.”

  Dan let out a deep sigh. Kallita was a drama queen intent on making mountains out of molehills.

  “OK, I will look for him. If he shows up, do me a favour and call me directly.” He gave her his card. “Just tell the dispatcher to patch you through to me. In the meantime, I might know where he is. I’ll check there first. My shift starts at 3:00 PM tomorrow. Come to the detachment around 2:00 PM, and we’ll fill out the paperwork.”

  Dan found Mark sipping on a beer at Benny’s Sports Bar. Sliding up on the stool beside him, he tapped on Mark’s opposite shoulder. His mind on other things, Mark fell for the joke, turning his head to the right only to see nobody there. Turning to his left, he recoiled at the sight of a
uniformed police officer sitting beside him.

  “Shit! You damn near gave me a heart attack. You workin’?” Mark eyed him up and down. “Or you just getting off shift?”

  “Yes.” Dan let the answer hang in the air.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, I’m working, and yes, I’m just finishing my shift. So you see, I’m here, but I’m not here if you get my drift.”

  “You’re gonna have to talk plainer than that. After the night I’ve just put in, my brain is fried.”

  “I know. I’ve just come from your place. Kallita called 911. Whatever you do, don’t go home tonight.”

  “Stupid bitch. I don’t know why I ever married her. She’s a goddamned head case. You have no idea.” Mark waved the bartender over. “Do this again and whatever he’s having.” He nodded in Dan’s direction. “Why can’t I go home?”

  Dan shook his head. “Nothing for me, I’m still on duty. She says she wants to have you charged with threatening to kill her. I’m supposed to be arresting you right now.”

  “She’s on crack. Do you want to know what happened tonight?”

  In any other case, Dan wouldn’t care. He would have a job to do, and Mark would be in handcuffs by now. But this was family, and he figured he had better let Mark talk. “There’s two sides to every story. Go ahead.”

  “She came home pissed off. You know why?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Cause she’s badeep-badeep nuts, that’s why. She was at her sister’s house. She hasn’t seen her for six months. So guess what? Kiley’s pregnant. So Kallita starts bitching at me ’cause she didn’t get pregnant first, and I’m an asshole because I didn’t get her pregnant. It’s my fault! There must be something wrong with me because we’ve been like rabbits since we got married. By the way, that’s the only good part of this whole deal. She can’t get enough. But I didn’t get her pregnant yet, and now her sister is going to have the first grandchild. She wanted to be the first. So I point out that we haven’t been trying for a kid, not that I want one, and I point out that she’s on the pill! So how is she supposed to get pregnant? That’s when the shit hit the fan. I tell you, Dan, she’s frigging crazy. She started yelling and screaming and throwing shit around. That’s when I left and came here. Been here ever since; thinkin’ about stayin’ if I can get Benny to lease me this stool.”