by J. S. Marlo
Foley. Where are you? An eye on Reed’s door and the other on his computer screen, Avery searched for Foley’s arrest report. Come on. You should be here. Once he exhausted all authorized and unauthorized avenues, he hacked into the backup system and searched the deleted files. Foley, if you’re in here, I’m in a bloody mess.
The office door opened. Avery rushed to erase his tracks, but not before he found what he’d been looking for.
“A truck rear ended a car in the Tim Horton’s parking lot.” Standing in the doorway with his jacket in his hands, Reed looked at the window. “The customers aren’t happy because the vehicles block the drive-thru. I should be back in a few hours.”
For a moment, Avery had been afraid he would be sent out to take care of disgruntled patrons too lazy to park their trucks and walk ten feet to get inside the donut shop. He had real work to do. When Reed exited, he heaved a silent sigh of relief.
A copy of Foley’s arrest still existed, buried deep within the deleted files. Someone had gone through lots of trouble to make Foley disappear—someone with access to the database—but that someone had forgotten the backup system.
Abbott hadn’t trusted his colleagues and he’d taken precautions, but he’d still ended up dead. Someone had betrayed him. The question was who.
The door opened, and Cooper stepped in.
“Cooper.” Avery leaned back in his chair. “How long have you been stuck on The Rock?”
“Two years, and you can shove any favor you’re about to ask up your rear.”
The constable’s mood mirrored the sergeant’s, but it didn’t deter Avery. “What about Reed? How long has he been here?”
“He arrived last spring, and in case you haven’t noticed, he’s counting the months till retirement. If I were you, I wouldn’t screw it for him.”
Duly noted and ignored. “I’m going for a snowmobile ride. I’ll be back later.”
“Don’t drink and drive, Stone. I’d hate to arrest you.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Last pill, Munchkin.”
The pill was bigger than the peas on Rory’s plate, and the ease with which he swallowed it attested to his recovery.
Hannah sighed. If only he gave the same swift treatment to the green vegetables. “If you empty your plate, I’ll take you for a long snowmobile ride.”
Bribery was bad, but left up to him, her son wouldn’t eat any veggies. He speared a pea with his fork, gave it a dubious look before dropping it on the floor.
“Rory—” As Hannah bent down, the dog leapt from underneath Rory’s chair and sniffed the pea. With her ears drooped down, Snowflake retreated under the table, leaving the vegetable where it landed. “Snowflake, you don’t have to agree with him.”
Hannah ventured a look above her shoulder. A mischievous grin split her son’s face, only to fade seconds later. He made a fist. As Snowflake zoomed out of the room, he knocked in the air.
“You stay here and finish your plate. Understood?”
Without waiting for an acknowledgment, she went to answer the door.
“Avery?” The dark stubbles spiking on his chin and the even darker circles under his eyes accentuated the officer’s fatigue. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. May I come in?”
“Sure.” Hannah hadn’t even closed the door that Snowflake had already brought him her toy. “I’m not sure why, but she likes you. Feel free to ignore her.”
Reaching down, Avery picked up the dog. She nuzzled against his neck, like she did with Rory. “I haven’t had a female warming up to my charming personality in ages, so if you don’t mind, I’ll take all the affection I can get.”
Astonishment sizzled inside her chest. With his forthright approach, he was the last officer she would have pictured unattached. “You’re an interesting character. Why don’t you give me Snowflake and sit down?”
“We need to talk.” As soon as he lowered Snowflake on the floor, she dashed into the kitchen. “In private.”
“Rory is in the kitchen practicing his magic trick. He’ll be there for a while.”
On her invitation, he removed his boots and hung his jacket on the doorknob. “What magic trick?”
“He’s trying to make his veggies disappear without having to eat them. Unfortunately for him, Snowflake has an aversion for peas.”
Shaking his head, he followed her to the couch where he sat beside her. “Will he hear me from here?”
“You can whisper, Avery. I’ll read you just the same.” Only one other man had treated her like she was a normal person. They may have shared a son, but they never had a future—or a past.
“I still can’t fathom how you can do this.” Something resembling admiration shimmered in the depths of his brown eyes. Behind his scruffy exterior, she sensed a kind and decent man.
“With great difficulty, but you’re not here to talk about me, are you?”
He leaned closer, his gun between them and his knee brushing her leg. All of a sudden, concentrating on his lips grew more laborious.
“Do you recall if Sergeant Reed or Constable Cooper had been brought in five years ago to investigate your grandfather’s death?”
“Reed and Cooper? They didn’t get posted here until years later. Brent led the investigation. His boss, Sergeant Vee…Vee-something.” The man was from Japanese descent, and she’d always had difficulties pronouncing his name. In any case, the sergeant had been too busy romancing the wife of a town councilor to interfere with Brent’s investigation. “He didn’t get involved. Why? Or am I not allowed to ask?”
“You’re allowed to ask, Hannah, I’m just not allowed to answer.” The twinkling in his eyes sent a mixed message. A part of him was teasing her, while the other part looked to be dead serious. “Does the name Noel Foley ring a bell? He was arrested last November for disturbance by Corporal Abbott, but he was also arrested five years ago for shoplifting. He would have been eighteen at the time of his first arrest.”
“F-O-L-E-Y?” She spelled to dispel any confusion, and he nodded in confirmation. “I don’t recall a Noel, but wasn’t one of the teenagers charged in Gramp’s death named Foley?”
“Yes, Percy. When Noel lifted over-the-counter medication from a drugstore, he was with his fifteen-year-old cousin. The teenage cousin, whom I believe to be Percy, was referred to Social Services. Since you’re a social worker, I was hoping you might have heard about Noel or Percy.”
There had to be a connection between Noel Foley and the events surrounding her grandfather’s death or Avery wouldn’t be asking all these questions.
“I have an Internet stick. The signal is weak, but I can access the files at Social Services from my laptop. With a proper warrant, I could check right away if Percy is in the system.”
Wrinkles formed at the corner of his mouth. “Any option that doesn’t require a warrant?”
“Maybe…” She looked toward the kitchen. Not having to drag Rory along while she revisited the site where Gramp died would allow her more freedom of movement and save her time. “I need to go for a snowmobile ride. Want to babysit for me?”
***
Avery didn’t know how many peas had originally been on Rory’s plate, but all the remaining ones showed signs of stabbing. “You really don’t like peas, do you?”
The youngster vehemently shook his head.
“You’re lucky I’m hungry.” In two forkfuls, Avery emptied the plate. “Don’t tell your mom, or she’ll ground me.”
When he picked up the stunned boy and lowered him to the floor, a shy smile blossomed on Rory’s cherubic face. As much as Avery disliked disputing Hannah’s authority, missing a snowmobile ride had been punishment enough for the youngster.
“Go brush your teeth. Then you and Snowflake can play in front of the fireplace while I work on your mom’s computer.”
Without a warrant, he had no right to access Percy Foley’s file. Any discovery resulting from the illegal search would be dismissed in court. If he learned anything v
aluable, he would need to think of a better way of obtaining that information. I’ll cross that bridge if I get there.
Before leaving for her ride in the woods, Hannah had logged into her account at Social Services to check her schedule and accidently forgotten to log out.
Let’s see what we have. Hannah’s security clearance granted him access to the records of the last ten years, transforming his admiration for the devious woman into adoration.
He typed Percy Foley into the search engine. Holding his breath, he pressed enter.
Something hit his foot, and gleeful laughter echoed in the room. His attention divided equally between the screen and the loud duo playing on the floor, Avery tossed the squeaky rubber toy across the living room. The youngster and terrier bounced after it, the four-legged snowball grabbing it first only to be pounced on by her human companion.
A new page downloaded on the screen. Avery willed the words to blend together into a coherent text. He missed the high-speed connection at work, but surfing on Hannah’s laptop at a turtle’s pace was safer.
Almost there.
Percy Foley. Fifteen years old.
So far, so good.
Arrested for shoplifting with his older cousin Noel Foley on Christmas Eve.
I love you, Hannah.
First offense. Received twenty hours of community service at the local library.
Interesting venue.
Two hours (3 to 5 p.m.) served on January 20th. Three hours (3 to 6 p.m.) served on January 27th. Two and a half hours (3 to 5:30 p.m.) served on February 3rd.
I wouldn’t mind a meticulous clerk like that at the detachment—or any bloody clerk to man the front counter.
Four hours (2 to 6 p.m.) served on February 10th. Died on February 17th.
Wait a bloody second. Old Pike was murdered on February 10th. Percy couldn’t have killed him. The teenager had an alibi for that afternoon. He was at the library.
Rory bounced on the cushion next to Avery and stared at him with his mother’s eyes.
“You’ve been a good little man.” The boy deserved a reward for behaving properly in his mother’s absence, and Avery needed some fresh air to clear his mind. “What would you say if I took you and Snowflake for a snowmobile ride around the cabin while we wait for your mom?”
Chapter Seventeen
“We cut the hole two hours ago. If she doesn’t hurry, it’ll freeze again. Are you sure she said this afternoon?”
“Yes.” On his way out of the dressing room, Matt had clearly heard her talk to herself. “Drink your scotch and shut up.”
“Why?” Vic pressed the flask against his mouth, gulping down a shot. “It’s not like the dummy can hear me.”
No, but I can. Matt was growing tired of his incessant complaints. “Deaf or not, we can’t underestimate her. It needs to look like an accident.”
His friend grumbled some unintelligible response. Matt wasn’t impressed by his sullen attitude.
Five years ago, Matt had made the mistake of going after the vagrant first, thinking it wouldn’t take him more than a few minutes to eliminate the threat, but the plan backfired. He’d waited too long and met Abbott in the forest while searching for Parker. The Mountie had interrogated him about the murder.
Before too much suspicion befell upon them, they’d concocted a plan to frame two dropouts and derail the investigation. It’d worked, but last fall, Noel Foley had tipped off Abbott. The past had then come back to haunt the three of them.
The woods reverberated with the sound of a roaring engine. “Sober up, Vic. Someone is coming.”
Vic took another swig, then tucked the flask—which Matt suspected to be empty by now—inside his pocket. “I’m not killing the brat. I’m dragging him into the snow and throwing him into the freezing water.”
“Suit yourself.” Hidden behind a cluster a lofty pine trees with Vic, Matt didn’t care about his friend’s method as long as he left no evidence. They’d abandoned their snowmobiles a kilometer upstream, near the jagged hole in the ice, and trudged to the murder site.
Vic’s elbow connected with Matt’s side. “The brat ain’t there.”
“Stop poking, I’m not blind.”
The dimwit woman had stopped by a skeleton tree standing by the rocky formation where the creek split in two. She was alone and wasn’t carrying any visible weapons. This is gonna be easy.
“The kid is probably home with the mutt. We’ll take care of him after. You walk around that way.” While he spoke, Matt indicated a pine tree with yellow needles on its lower branches. “Just make sure she doesn’t see you until I cut her off from her Ski-Doo. We don’t want her to escape.”
“She won’t escape.” His friend’s face contorted into a vicious leer. “There’s no one around. What about giving her a good time before she goes for a swim?”
“Accident, remember?” Cheap thrill and lust was what had gotten them in trouble five years ago. This was one mistake not worth repeating today. “There can be no sign of assault. Now put your ski mask on.”
“You used to be way more fun.” Vic walked away, grumbling and cursing.
Heedless of his friend’s litany, Matt plowed in the opposite direction. The snow crunched under his boot, and with each step, he sank some six inches deep. The exercise worked his leg muscles, which he needed for strength and speed when he played hockey.
Through the branches, Matt kept his gaze on the deaf woman. She’d moved away from her snowmobile and stopped near the skeleton tree. While she looked away, he plodded through the open stretch of snow. The engine wasn’t running. As he drew closer, he saw the helmet on the bench and the key in the ignition.
A yelp of surprise echoed in the forest. Hands at her sides, Parker stood still. Her attention was focused forward.
Some fifteen feet ahead of her, Matt’s friend had emerged from the woods with a thick stick in his hand. Way to go, Vic.
Parker took a step back and looked behind her. Their gaze met. Shoulders squared off, she froze. The smell of fear radiated from her body. They had her sandwiched.
Ready to give chase if she made a mad dash for the woods, Matt advanced toward her. “Give it up. There’s nowhere to run.”
On the other front, Vic was also approaching, closing the trap.
Her gaze was locked on him, but there was no indication she’d understood his command. Then, without warning, she charged at him.
Caught off balance, Matt tumbled in the snow. “Shit!”
As he fumbled to get up, she jumped on her snowmobile and hurled the helmet at him. He lurched sideways to avoid the object, skidded on a patch of ice, and fell. The engine roared and the snowmobile plowed away. Vic moved to block her path. Slowing down, she swerved around him. His friend raised the stick and took a swing. She collapsed between the handles.
The vehicle came to an abrupt halt by the trees where her old man had drawn his last breath. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“Check if she’s dead.” Matt yelled over the sound of the engine. “I’m coming.”
The branches of the nearest tree fluttered as Vic approached the girl.
“I smashed the back of her head,” he boasted, his voice carrying his accomplishment loud and proud. “I see blood, lots of blood. She’s—”
Without warning, Vic collapsed in the snow.
“Vic?” Matt wasn’t amused by his friend’s antics. “Get up. We don’t have time to play.”
A short, hooded figure materialized above his friend, chilling Matt’s blood. The vision—it could only be a vision—straddled the snowmobile.
Where’s my rifle when I need it. Cursing his lack of foresight, Matt hurtled through the snow as the ghost from the past rode away with Parker.
Twitching and moaning, Vic tried to sit in the snow. “What happened?”
“Shit happened.” Matt pulled him up by his jacket. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah.” His friend ran a hand behind his head. “Who hit me?”
“A ghost, but I�
�ll take care of her.” This time, she would not escape him. “Go to Parker’s cabin and silence the kid. I’ll meet you back at the hole.”
***
Even if Avery hadn’t been instructed to trust no one, he still wouldn’t trust anyone, not after all he’d unearthed so far.
As they approached the spruce tree under which Avery had parked his snowmobile, so no one would notice he’d come to visit her cabin, Rory and Snowflake slowed down.
“Tired, little man?” The snow was deep, a challenge for the boy’s and dog’s short legs. “Want me to carry you?”
The youngster looked up. Avery followed his gaze to a miniature log cabin built in a tree, complete with an angled roof and holes in place of windows. Pieces of timber, roughly a foot long, hammered onto the trunk at short, regular intervals, led to a square opening through the floor. Something in that tree house had scared the boy and stolen his voice.
Avery crouched down, putting himself at eye level with Rory. “I’ll make a deal with you, little man. If you climb with me inside the tree house, I’ll tell your mom not to feed you peas ever again.”
The boy’s eyes grew wider and wider as he glanced back and forth between the tree and Avery.
“No more peas. Forever.” I’m so going to regret this promise. “Do we have a deal?”
Rory moved his head into something resembling a reluctant nod, then picked up his dog and hugged her.
“Yes, Snowflake can come with us. I’ll carry you both.” When the youngster didn’t object, Avery scooped him from the snow. “Hold her tight, ready?”
Five vertical steps later, Avery popped his head through the opening. Some six inches of snow had accumulated inside the tree house, which looked sturdy enough for both of them.
“Put Snowflake down and hop in.” Avery lowered his quiet bundle on the floor then crawled inside.
At its highest point, the slanted ceiling reached five feet. High enough for a child to stand up, but Rory didn’t stand, nor did he approach either of the two windows. Instead, he retreated to the corner of the two solid walls with his dog.