Turning Secrets

by Brenda Chapman

  She stared at him, looking for a trace of guile, but could see none. He was an abhorrent individual, but was he a killer? Her reporter’s gut said no and yet Woodhouse was convinced that one of the brothers had murdered Nadia. She had a lot to mull over before deciding which way to go with this story.

  There was no sign of his wife when she let herself out. The wind had come up and mouldy autumn leaves left unraked from the winter swirled in front of her as she hurried across the lawn to her car. She wanted more than anything to call Rouleau for an update on the search for Dawn and the other girl, Vanessa, but his recent coolness held her back. Their relationship had soured for a reason she couldn’t identify. She’d have to contact her other sources when she got home. Scotty might have accepted her meagre offering on the missing girls today because of the time constraints but he’d be less accommodating two days in a row.

  Pulling into her parking spot at her downtown half double, she remembered Gloria’s comment about the bald man on the force who’d been a childhood friend of Mayor Tom Clement and Harold Mortimer. Was he in fact Rouleau? If so, why hadn’t Rouleau mentioned their friendship whenever she’d talked about City Hall or the Mortimer projects going on around town? She’d made another connection since hearing the name Vanessa Jefferson. Mick Jefferson’s architectural firm had designed the new casino for Mortimer Construction. Was this bit of business tangential to his daughter’s disappearance? She thought about pointing out the connection to Rouleau but he might see that as interfering. She also knew more than she should about the case because of Woodhouse, so she had to be careful.

  She replayed her many wide-ranging conversations with Rouleau when she finally sat down with a cup of tea in hand and a purring cat in her lap, but when she climbed the stairs to her empty bed an hour later, she was no closer to understanding the man whom she’d come to love and despair of in equal measure.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Janet Dodd looked down at the Indigenous man lying on a gurney in intensive care. He was hooked up to an oxygen mask and a heart monitor that kept track of every beat. Five hours of surgery had stopped the internal bleeding but he’d lost a large quantity of blood. She adjusted the tubing running to his hand before turning to look at the police officer named Stonechild, sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed. She’d been asleep, her chin resting on a fist with her elbow propped up on the thigh of a crossed leg, but now her black eyes were open. Watchful.

  “Is there any change?”

  “No. His heart is holding steady, though. He’s very weak.” Janet was moved by the pain she saw in the officer’s eyes. “Do you know him?”

  “He’s the father of someone I know. She’s disappeared and he might have information that will help us find her.”

  “Those two teenage girls who’ve gone missing?”

  Officer Stonechild didn’t respond, and Janet straightened the bedcover before making one last check of the man’s vital signs. She took another look at the officer. “It’s late. You should go home and get some sleep. He could be out of it for a long time yet.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Janet could tell from the officer’s face that arguing would be pointless. So instead, she went to the supply shelf and returned with a blanket, which she handed to Stonechild. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on him, if you want to sleep. I can wake you if there’s any change.”

  Officer Stonechild nodded and spread the blanket across her lap. She was soon dozing again in the chair, chin tucked into her jacket. Janet alternated between her two critical patients throughout the early morning. The officer was awake more often than she was asleep but she finally fell into a deeper slumber around 3:00 a.m. when Janet was spelled off for her break. Janet left instructions to waken Officer Stonechild if Fisher Dumont regained consciousness but she knew that the chances of that happening were slim.

  In the small staff kitchen, she sat with a cup of coffee and the egg salad sandwich she’d brought from home. Someone had left a newspaper on the table and she reached for it. The teenage girls’ disappearance was the front-page story but the article was short on details. Vanessa Jefferson and Dawn Cook. One white with blond hair, the other Indigenous with long black hair and bangs. They looked so young and earnest. There was no mention of the man lying in the intensive ward. The link between him and the missing Indigenous girl had not been made by the reporter. She wondered how the beat-up, emaciated man in the bed could possibly be this beautiful young girl’s father. And where did Officer Stonechild fit in the chain of relationships? Janet finished her coffee and washed her hands before returning to relieve the nurse covering her break.

  At 5:00 a.m., Stonechild stirred and Janet sensed her gaze before turning to her.

  “Any change?”

  Janet took a quick glance at the heart monitor. “His blood pressure is low but he’s maintaining. He hasn’t regained consciousness.”

  “I can’t believe I actually slept.” Stonechild stretched and asked, “Can I get you a coffee?” She pushed aside the blanket and got to her feet.

  Janet smiled. “This is almost my bedtime but thanks for the offer.” She glanced at the door. A tall, broad-shouldered man with curly blond hair and a beard stood framed in the small window. “I believe someone is here for you.”

  Janet saw Stonechild’s troubled expression relax at the sight of the man. For some reason, knowing that the officer had someone to help her through this horrible time comforted Janet. Stonechild had seemed so solitary, so alone. She hadn’t wanted to tell her that Fisher Dumont might never recover from his injuries. The surgeon had not been optimistic before releasing him to her care. Janet didn’t want to be the one to extinguish the last vestige of hope in the officer’s eyes.

  Gundersund tried to keep the concern off his face as he pulled Stonechild into the visitors’ lounge at the end of the corridor. Those who didn’t know her well would wonder at the lack of emotion on her face but he wasn’t fooled. She was coping the only way she knew how. Compartmentalizing and dealing with her fear by throwing herself into finding Dawn. He knew that she wouldn’t allow herself a moment of weakness until this was all over.

  “Sit with me for a bit,” he said, and was relieved when she lowered herself next to him on the couch even though she kept a little distance from him. He wanted to wrap his arms around her but knew he shouldn’t. He understood that she needed to stay within herself to keep going. “We will find her.”

  “I know.”

  “The entire country is watching for them; someone will see them. Somebody knows where they are. The team is personally reaching out to police across the province and into Quebec. We won’t stop until we connect with every force.”

  “He knows something.”

  “Who?”

  “Him.” She swivelled her head toward the door. “Fisher Dumont. I feel it in my gut.”

  “Do you think he was part of it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to take her away and something went wrong.”

  “Rouleau is sending an officer to spell you off. They’ll be here soon.” He saw the stubborn look on her face and added gently, “You can’t sit in there all day and night.”

  “I don’t know what else to do.”

  “You can go home and get some real sleep. I’ll let you know as soon as we find out anything.”

  She leaned closer and touched the scar on his cheek, running her fingertips along its length as lightly as a whisper. “You haven’t slept either.”

  “I had a rest at work.”

  “Okay,” she said pulling back. “I need to let Taiku out anyway.”

  He wasn’t certain that he should trust her to sleep but he was glad that he’d convinced her to step away from the hospital and from work. “I promise to call you as soon as we have any news.”

  Her black eyes were exhausted but determined. “I’m going to get her back,” she said. “If I have to track whoever took her to the ends of the earth, I’ll do it. And then I’ll make them pa
y.”

  “You won’t be alone. I’ll be right beside you.” He kissed her on the mouth and promised again to call her the moment he got a lead. No matter how small.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Kala went home as she’d promised but not to rest. She fed Taiku and let him roam around outside while she had a quick shower and changed her clothes. After pouring a cup of coffee, she put on her jacket and sat outside on the back step as she worked through what to do next. She tried to set aside Rose’s anger when she’d called to tell her Dawn was missing. She was barely able to deal with her own. If Fisher Dumont was behind Dawn’s disappearance, she’d put him away for the rest of his life … if he recovered.

  The blazing sun seemed like a rebuke. How could this be such a promising spring morning when all she felt was misery? The warming temperature and new growth in the garden that she and Dawn had planted together only added to her pain. The crocuses and daffodils were poking through the rich loam. She imagined Dawn’s delight and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. Taiku came bounding from the woods and ambled over to her, resting his head against her leg. He was out of sorts, waiting for Dawn to come home. She reached down to scratch his head. “We’ll find her, boy. She’s counting on us.”

  In the hospital, Kala had thought about Dawn’s behaviour over the past week — stalling in the mornings before school and trying to outwait her. Reluctant to take a ride when she was running late. Evasive and jumpy. She’d thought Dawn was hiding something but hadn’t thought it was a person. Kala was convinced now that Dawn and Fisher had met up. Dawn hadn’t told her that Fisher was camping out in the woods. The question was why not? Had he been threatening her or had he secured her silence for another reason? More importantly, why had he been struck and left for dead on the road if he was behind Dawn’s disappearance? The facts didn’t add up. She tried to take herself out of the equation and be objective. She kept returning to the idea that Fisher had actually been trying to prevent the abduction, that whoever took Dawn had run him down — but she needed confirmation.

  Her phone buzzed and she looked at the call display. At last. “Yes, Dennis Wilburn? Thank you for getting back to me. As I said in my voicemail message, I need to know more about your client, Fisher Dumont.”

  “I’ve spoken with his doctor,” Wilburn said. “His chances of ever waking up aren’t good. Did you know that, Officer Stonechild?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “They didn’t tell me in so many words but I guessed.”

  She heard his sigh across the miles. “Fisher had so much potential but trouble had a way of finding him. I truly thought he might make it this time. He was off drugs and had this bit of hope about him that I hadn’t seen before.”

  “Did you know that he has a daughter, Dawn?”

  “He talked about her once. Said he’d screwed it up with the mother and wished he could go back and redo that period in his life. Be a better husband and father.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard others say the same thing.”

  “Like variations on a theme? Yeah, the cynic in me understands talk is cheap and a tool of manipulation.”

  “I need to know if Fisher would ever hurt his daughter.”

  “My honest gut reaction? No. Fisher was a passive kind of guy. Fell into stuff but didn’t initiate. He was genuinely regretful about missing out on Dawn’s childhood.”

  “So somebody else might be calling the shots?”

  “If he’s involved, but I honestly don’t think he’d jeopardize his daughter’s well-being. Not knowingly. I’m sorry I can’t help you further. Fisher worked as a dishwasher at the Venice Café but didn’t associate with anybody after work. He kept a low profile since his release. I wouldn’t even know who else you could talk to about him.”

  “If I have more questions, can I call you?”

  “Any time. I hope Dawn is safely returned to you soon.”

  Feeling sick at heart, Kala ended the call and called for Taiku to come. Now is not the time to give up, she told herself. She’d walk the route that Dawn had taken and inspect the location where Fisher had been struck. Hopefully she’d find something to shed light on the sequence of events.

  She heard a car pulling into the driveway as she was locking the back door. She ran down the steps and across the lawn to greet her visitor. Taiku was ahead of her, already nuzzling his head against Marci Stokes’s hand. Marci straightened and walked quickly toward Kala, embracing her for a long moment. “I’m so sorry this is happening,” she said. “I want you to know that I’m poking around too, trying to find out where Dawn and Vanessa might be. I’m also after more information for today’s article if you have anything to share that could help find them.”

  “I was going to walk up the road to see if I can piece any of it together.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Kala felt comfortable striding alongside Marci, whose trademark trench coat flapped around her legs. Her auburn hair was a messy tousle that she ran her hand through periodically. She was wearing what looked like army boots over black stretch pants and her long red sweater had a snag below the neckline. She must have swiped a pen across her cheek because a streak of blue ink stained the skin below her left eye.

  “Do you want to brainstorm?” Marci asked when they reached the end of the driveway. She linked her arm through Kala’s.

  “Are you writing about Nadia Armstrong too?”

  “I am. Also, the casino contract that went to Mortimer Construction.” She was silent a moment. “The Armstrong girl’s body was found on the Mortimer building site.”

  “That’s always bothered me,” said Kala. “Why there?”

  “Nadia was sleeping with her landlord, who works at Mortimer Construction, and it’s a safe bet she didn’t stop there. I looked at the map and there are a few motels out that way.”

  “She might have met a man for sex. They did drugs and her heart gave out so he panicked and shoved her off the seventh floor — that is, if the half-built hotel had been the rendezvous site.”

  “Could have happened that way.”

  “But why meet there and not in a motel?” asked Kala. “A bed is way more comfortable than a concrete slab.”

  “I don’t know … for the thrill of it? Or maybe one of the workers wanted to give his boss the proverbial finger by screwing a hooker on the site.”

  “Or she was murdered somewhere else and the killer tried to make it look like a suicide.”

  “Another possibility.”

  They’d reached the location of the accident and stopped talking while Kala inspected the ground where Fisher’s body had been found. She also checked the brush lining the road. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m going to backtrack in the direction Fiona saw Dawn walking from the main road.”

  “I’ll take the other side,” said Marci.

  They silently studied the pavement and scanned the bushes. When they reached the main road, they switched sides and retraced their steps back to Kala’s laneway.

  “Nothing,” said Kala.

  “What were you hoping for?”

  “Signs of a struggle, maybe an item dropped by her or her abductor.”

  “You’re sure she was taken against her will?”

  “I’m certain of it. She must have seen something or known something about Vanessa’s disappearance so they came for her too.”

  They’d stopped walking and were facing one another. Kala kept talking. “I think all the evidence points to human trafficking. An older man named Leo met Vanessa online. She was struggling with her parents’ divorce, angry and ripe for the picking. This Leo kept his real identity a secret from everyone who knew her. Isolated her.”

  “And now she’s missing.”

  They stared at one another. “Could the girls’ disappearance be connected to Nadia Armstrong?” asked Marci, “All three are young, vulnerable women.”

  “You’re making connections that have no basis,” said Kala, “but you’re not going anywhere I haven
’t been myself, trying to figure this out.”

  “What now?”

  “You’ve given me an idea worth pursuing. I’m going to the hotel construction site to speak with the foreman, Bill Lapointe. He might know of any workers who’d want to stick it to Mortimer Construction. What about you?”

  “I have a couple of articles to write and deadlines to meet.” Marci pulled her car keys out of her pocket. “You be careful. The person angry with Mortimer might even be Lapointe. These people aren’t fooling around.” She took a step toward her car and stopped. “The receptionist at Mortimer Construction told me something odd. She said that Harold Mortimer, Mayor Clement, and a bald cop on the Kingston force have been tight since they were kids. My first thought was Rouleau but he’s never acted as if he knew them that well. I was thinking that Woodhouse is bald and could have been in with the others, even though he’s younger.”

  “Why would that be important?”

  “She said that they fixed the contract for the casino. I need more proof before going public but I thought the announcement smelled fishy from the start. I’m going to keep digging. One more oddity: Vanessa Jefferson’s father is the architect who drew up the plans for the casino. That’s a lot of connections, don’t you think?”

  Kala had a sudden premonition that sent a chill up her back despite the warmth of the day. “You need to be careful too. These are powerful men and a lot of their money hangs on keeping their reputations unsullied. They won’t like feeling threatened.”

  “I know, but somebody has to hold them to account.” Marci gave her a grim smile before getting into her car. She waved after she backed out of the driveway and then drove slowly up the road they’d just walked searching for signs of Dawn.

  Kala heard construction noise through her lowered window before the dark towering skeleton of the hotel came into view above the pine trees. More of the openings had been bricked in and the roof was one-third complete. She parked along the side of the road and walked past the line of trucks that fed onto the construction site. She stopped for a moment to study the workers on the roof and the inside of the structure. Electricians were running wires and she heard intermittent hammering and drilling coming from different floors. She spotted Bill Lapointe’s white hard hat on the ground level, through what would be the main entrance to the hotel, and crossed the uneven dirt walkway toward him. A man standing next to Lapointe pulled on his sleeve and pointed toward her before she entered. She watched Lapointe roll the document he’d been reading into a tube. He said something to the man who’d alerted him to her presence before walking over to her.