Chapter 22
"Come take a walk with me, " her dad said after dinner.
Gina smiled as she rose. 'Dark walks ' with her dad had been a nightly tradition all through her late childhood and teen years. She still loved the night air, the quiet and the feeling of safety that Dad brought to the night.
They walked side by side in silence until they reached the town sidewalk.
"I spoke with Tony, " Gord said finally. "About this whole mess and about you."
Gina let out her breath.
"Tell me you didn 't say some nonsense about being honourable, Dad." Good grief, how embarrassing that would be.
"Didn 't have to, " Gord said. The smile was in his voice. "You better love that fellow, Gina, because I don 't think he 's going to accept no for an answer."
Now Gina felt silly. She didn't know what to say.
"Do you love him, sweetheart? I 've got to hear you say it. It 's just the two of us here so you can be honest."
It came easy now, the words and the confidence that went with them. "Yes. Yes I do, Dad. I think I always have."
"That 's what your mom said." Her dad sounded satisfied.
They walked on. The small sounds of night in this town were sweetly calming, unlike the relentless noise of the city.
"For what it 's worth, I think he 's a good man, Gina. He was a good kid; I liked him even then. I 'd be proud to have him in the family—yes, you can giggle about that, considering. But it 's up to you, sweetheart. You know that."
She knew. That was the great thing about Dad. He was always there to support you . A lways there , period. A hard act for anyone to follow.
"Do you think it 's Reggie?"
Gina nearly tripped on the sidewalk. "What?"
"Everyone is saying Reggie is the murderer. Do you think so?"
She stopped walking, turned to her d ad and said, "No."
"I don 't, either." Gord searched her face. "Do you know who it is?"
Gina hesitated, then remembered who she was talking to. "I have an idea. But I don 't have any proof and no one will believe it."
"How sure are you?" Gord said.
Gina licked her lips. "Not sure at all." How to explain, the philosophy she had been playing with. That the whole world came down to a few things that were all-important. And all you had to do was look at what was most important to each person…
"Could you be in danger?"
Gina shook her head. "I 'm not a threat. And no one would guess what I 'm thinking."
Gord reached over to wrap his arm about her. "Keep it to yourself, sweetheart. Don 't tell a soul, not even Tony. Don 't even hint about it. I 'm not sure we 're done with it all yet."
Gina felt a chill to her toes. It wasn't over—she knew that too .
Linda was holding court in the kitchen when they got back.
"All I said was they let the bastard get away."
"They don 't know for sure it was Reggie, " Becki said sensibly.
"Oh, don 't be ridiculous. Who else could it be? Reggie was screwing that blond slut and he got tired of her. She tried to make things difficult for him…was going to tell Carla or something. Don 't tell me it was the first time. That type is always prowling."
"Linda, keep your voice down. Carla might hear. She 's only in the bathroom." The disgust in Mandy 's voice was clear.
"You think she doesn 't know? Carla 's no dummy. She 's well rid of him, if you ask me. We all are. I 'm just surprised she didn 't do him in herself. Now there 's the person who should have died."
"Maybe she did." Ian spoke from the side.
"What are you talking about?"
"Sweetie, that 's brilliant, " Linda said.
"I don 't understand." Gina heard her mom 's voice from the corner.
"Reggie 's missing. Maybe he didn 't run away. Maybe Carla offed him and packed his stuff to make it look like he ran off."
"Linda!" Becki exclaimed. "That 's a terrible thing to say."
"What? You think Carla couldn 't kill anyone? She could do it well enough if given the right reason. So could I."
Gord stood in the doorway, leaning against the jam. "A regular Lady Macbeth you are, Linda."
"Really?" Linda looked over and drawled, "I always imagined myself as Cleopatra."
"Why not?" Mandy muttered. "They both used poison."
When Gina woke up the first time, the moon was still high. When she woke up the second time, it had hardly moved. She tossed and turned for a while and finally gave up.
Her dressing gown was draped across the end of the bed. She donned it. The hall was cold and empty; moonlight drifted in from the staircase window. She moved to the landing. At the bottom of the stairs was the kitchen with its comfort of tea. She hesitated and then turned the other way. She took each step softly, slowly, to the third floor.
What was she doing? Was she mad? At the door to his room, she peeked in. In the dark, she could find no one there. Where was he? The loss hit her like a blow to the chest.
Then he was behind her, wordlessly taking her arm, pulling her into the room and the door shut behind them.
The sun was fully up when Gina woke next.
They were in Tony's room at the back of the house. It had always been his room in the old days and she had envied him for it…the sloped ceiling, the low, gabled windows. The place had been full of comic books and matchbox cars. Of course, girls weren 't allowed in the attic room then.
There was no one else on the third floor, which made it private.
Gina revelled in the glorious aftermath of being made love to in a dozen different ways. Tony was on his back. Her head snuggled against the side of his chest. My God, my God, could anything feel so good ever again? she wondered . The steady sound of his breathing, of his chest rising and falling made a soothing rhythm. She was almost asleep again when the soft pounding started.
"Gina, Gina. Are you in there?" It was only a whisper, but Gina bolted right up. Caught. Oh my goodness, what to do?
"It 's Becki. Look, Tony, is Gina in there with you? Everyone 's looking for her."
Tony was awake now. He was smiling and his eyes twinkled.
"Tell them to stop, " he said. "Squirt is safe enough."
Gina stared at him in horror and then picked up a pillow and whacked him with it.
"Ouch!" Tony yelped. "But I might need help."
Gina could almost hear the smile in Becki's voice. "Get up, you two. I 'll try to keep people off the second floor so you can go down and get dressed, Gina. Make it snappy."
Gina moved to lunge off the bed, but Tony caught her arm.
"Hey, not so fast." He pulled her down on top of him.
"Tony, no! I 've got to—" But it appeared she didn 't have to, after all.
Chapter 23
"Macho, you know what? Mom nearly caught me yesterday when I was searching her room." She hated it when Mom was upset with her.
Macho raised his head.
"Lucky I hid in the closet."
He slumped in relief.
"Didn 't think she 'd be as mad as Father, so I almost came out and let her know I was there." She frowned. "But Mom limped across the room to her nightstand , too k this sparkly bracelet thing out, sat down, put it around her wrist and then started crying. Ya, crying . Father wasn 't even there to yell at her or hit her , and she started crying anyway. All by herself. And I felt really sorry for her and thought I should comfort her like when she comforts me when I 'm sad."
She hugged Macho to show him how she wanted to hug Mom.
"But I didn 't, 'cause I wasn 't sure, and she left, and I don 't think she even knew I was there."
Nellie looked around her bedroom. Sun streamed in the window and in its path, she could see dust floating down like snowflakes. All those slanted rays of sunlight also highlighted her knapsack in a heap on the floor on the other side of the room. She crawled over to it.
"You know what else?" Not waiting for Macho to answer, she pulled the tape recorder from her bag
. "Last night I caught Uncle Jerry and Aunt Linda having a fight on tape. I heard them arguing through their door, couldn 't hear exactly what they were saying, so I stuck this microphone under it." She held up a tiny black mic on a wire that was plugged into her machine . "Wanna hear?"
She pressed Rewind and the tape spun backward with a whirring sound. Then she pressed Pl ay .
"And for God 's sake, Linda, instead of wasting thousands of dollars on creams and potions, why don 't you bloody quit smoking?"
"None of your business, Jerry."
"None of my business?"
"What I do doesn 't concern you."
"What you do affects me. We 're married."
"Right."
"For instance, I married a beautiful, young woman, who 'll very soon be a wrinkled, old hag, despite the fact she spends thousands of dollars, not to mention thousands of hours, fighting destructive—"
"Finished yet?"
"Well, no, actually. Let me add that beautiful, young woman I married will end up prematurely dead from lung cancer and I have to watch it happen. Linda Ferrero 's suicide drama in slow motion."
"Like you care. And as if you don 't have your own vices that are just as hateful to me."
"Turn it around, why don 't you?"
"Like you 're the injured party—Mr. Tom Cat."
"What?"
"You heard me. Youth and beauty are all you care about. Why do you think you fell for me in the first place? And now that I 'm older, you 're on to greener pastures. Greener. Sexier. As in secretary? As in poor, lonely divorcée? Why be picky? As long as they have looks. I should say, as long as they have gravity-defying boobs."
"Go ahead and kill yourself with cigarettes."
"Maybe you 'd like to speed things up. Is that what happened to Hilary?"
"Hilary?"
"Got too long in the tooth for you?"
"What you talking about?"
"That woman! That woman in red. She one of yours? You kill her?"
"Are you crazy? First you accuse Carla of killing. And now me? You 're too much, Linda. Way too much. I 'm not listening to another word. I 'm asleep. Sound asleep in my bed."
"Fine!"
"Snore."
The tape went silent. Nellie pressed Stop . She rubbed her hand over her forehead—her fingers fluttered. "I should probably tell Mom, right?"
"Mom, I think Tony 's carrying a gun, " Becki said.
What makes you say that?
"Caught a glimpse of something that looks like Karl 's bulge when he 's carrying."
Looking at other men's bulges?
"You never used to be like this, Mom."
Never used to be dead.
"Will you be serious? There 's been a murder and I think someone I know is carrying a weapon."
Your husband 's the cop. Not you. Wh at 're you doing snooping around? You 'll get yourself in big doo doo like this.
"I 'm not snooping. Just happened to notice. What do you think it means?"
The woman who died wasn't shot, was she?
"No, she was beaten with a bat."
Tony wearing a bat too ?
"For God 's sake, Mom."
Call your husband. That's my advice. You 're missing him. That 's what this is.
"For once I think you 're right."
Becki dialled home.
"Hi, Karl."
"Hi, honey. How 's it going?"
"Okay. You?"
"I 'm good."
"Haven 't gained more weight, have you?"
"Maintaining. Are you free to come home?"
"Not yet."
"Oh."
"In the meantime, I have a question for you."
"Hit me."
"Wish I could."
"Huh?"
"Wish I could touch you."
"Me too. Ah, your question. Go ahead."
"What would you say if I told you Tony 's wearing a gun? But it 's hidden. Is that legal?"
"Hmmm. A concealed weapon. In Canada. Only cops and criminals carry guns."
"Which category do architects fall under?"
"Maybe you should stay away from him while I do a little research."
"Weird. We 've known Tony for years."
"And don 't rile him up."
"Hey, I never rile people up. Especially Tony. He seems like such a nice guy."
"Still, don 't let him know you 're on to him. I said cops and criminals."
The loneliness hit her again as soon as she hung up the phone.
Chapter 24
"Air Canada says no passenger of that name traveled with them in the past week. Checking WestJet now. But you know, Guv, if the suspect went stateside, he could hop a flight from Buffalo and we 'd never know. That 's what I would do."
Rob scowled into the phone. And it was so easy to slip from there into Mexico and then further south, if you wanted. Who knows where the man had connections…Right. He had some follow-up to do.
"Thanks, Janet. I 'm on my way back to the house to question the wife."
Rob drove above the speed limit without noticing. This was the part of the investigation that got tedious. Parcel out a bunch of leads…check every one of them out…wait for the results to come back in. Ninety-nine out of a hundred led nowhere, or sometimes they led to ten more avenues of investigation which themselves led to more…
But this was what being a good cop was all about. The painstaking details. The ferreting…the relentless asking of questions and sorting through facts. Eliminating the extraneous and salvaging the few leads that could go somewhere.
Rob was good at that. He had a true cop's gut and he knew he was on to something now.
Carla didn't look good, Rob had to admit. The skin around her eyes had gone from black to purple and green, and she made no attempt to hide the bruising with makeup. Her mouth was still a mess. It hurt to look at her.
Besides that, she was sullen. Perhaps it hurt to smile?
"Have you found the bastard?" She spit the words.
Whoa. Guess that established how she was feeling. Rob squirmed in the study chair.
"Not yet, but we have some leads. Perhaps you can help us."
Carla merely stared at the floor.
"We think he might have left the country. Perhaps Mexico or further south. Did he have any connections there that you can think of? Any foreign connections he could stay with?"
Now she looked up, startled. "In Mexico? How the devil would he get there?"
Rob shifted uneasily. "We 're checking flights now."
Carla merely laughed. "Well you can stop that right away. Reggie would never fly. Don 't you know? He was terrified of planes. He couldn 't even go up a stepladder without fainting or throwing up."
Rob frowned. "It would have been useful if you 'd told us this before."
Now she sneered at him. "It would be useful if you could do your job and find the bastard who did this to me. So don 't lecture me."
Rob felt his face go red and his blood pressure mount. Steady now —he was losing his cool. He turned back to face her. "Mrs. Williamson. If you know of any place your husband could be or anyone he could be staying with, please tell me now."
Carla looked away. Her whole body seemed to fold into a hunch.
"Nowhere you have to fly to. Reggie liked trains. He used to say you met the most interesting people on trains. Mainly older women with money, I expect. He seemed to know a lot of those." Her voice sounded defeated.
"He could take a train to the States and then across the border south, " Rob suggested.
She shrugged. It looked like it hurt to do that. "Could have. But he never mentioned ever wanting to go there. We went to Vegas once, but that was about it. Didn 't meet anyone there to speak of."
"What about friends? Did he have any male friends?"
Carla shook her head. "Men didn 't like him."
Rob sighed deeply. This was like pulling teeth.
"So you can 't think of anywhere he might have gone to? Anyone who might be giving
him shelter?"
"What an odd way to put it. 'Anyone who might give him shelter, ' like he was a dog or something. That 's it! That 's what he was—a hound dog." She laughed and the sound verged on hysteria.
Rob stared. He had known Carla since he was a kid, and while he 'd never warmed to her, it bothered him to see her this way.
"Oh, Lord, " she said, huffing for air. "I can see some old bitch putting him in the dog house, patting him down for the night." And then she was off again, cackling like a Halloween witch.
"You can go now. Send Gina in if you see her, " Rob said, waving her away. "But if you think of anything—"
"I know." She gasped for breath. "I 'll call you."
Watching her rise from the chair was painful. She moved slowly to the door and then turned. "If I were you, I 'd look in some place like Palm Beach. Those wealthy Toronto matrons go to Florida every year, don 't they?" With that, she left.
Rob looked down at the desk, deep in thought.
A minute later, Gina walked in.
"Good morning, Rob. You wanted to see me?"
His eyes lit up immediately and he jumped to his feet.
"Come in. Sit down. Have you had coffee yet?"
Gina's smile was perky. "Actually, it 's my house, of a sort. I should be asking you that."
Rob blushed and sat. "Sorry. Foolish of me." He ran his eyes over her. She looked lovely in that deep blue sweater and blue jeans. The blue did something to her skin—something nice.
"I just need you to confirm some things. I need the opinion of someone I know and trust."
He looked directly at her. Gina nodded.
"Mrs. Williamson tells me her husband was afraid of flying."
Gina nodded again. "It 's true. We all knew that. I think it was fear of heights rather than air sickness."
Rob leaned back. "So he wouldn 't have taken a plane anywhere, in your opinion."
She shook her head. "Never. I can 't swear to it but—no, I just don 't believe he could make himself get on one."
"That narrows the search a bit." Rob chewed on the end of a pen. "Can you think of any place he would go? Or someone who would harbour him?"
A Purse to Die For Page 10