The Opposite of Dark chm-1

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The Opposite of Dark chm-1 Page 13

by Debra Purdy Kong


  “No, thanks.” The last thing she needed was to be alone with this guy on a remote road.

  “What more do I have to do to earn your trust, Casey?”

  She thought about this. “There’s one thing that would make a difference, depending on how much influence you have with my mother.”

  “Well, she does listen to me.”

  “Mother’s threatened to tell Rhonda’s adopted daughter the truth about her birth, to hurt Rhonda, and I’m asking you to tell her to stop.”

  “Why would Lillian want to hurt Rhonda?”

  “There’s a lot of history between them, and Rhonda’s engagement to Dad didn’t help things. But an eleven-year-old child doesn’t deserve to be caught in the middle.”

  “Agreed, but I’d have more leverage if I knew the details.”

  Casey sighed. She didn’t want Theo to know Rhonda’s private business, but if it meant keeping Mother from hurting her and Summer, then it was worth the risk.

  “Summer’s biological mother was a heroin addict. She also happened to be Rhonda’s younger sister.”

  “The sister you mentioned at dinner the other night—the one who overdosed?”

  “Yeah, it happened two months after Summer was born. The father could have been one of several guys, none of them any good, from what I heard.”

  “Why doesn’t Rhonda tell her daughter the truth before Lillian does?”

  “She’s terrified Summer will hate her for lying all these years. Rhonda made up an elaborate story about giving birth, the whole bit. Anyway, Mother recently found out the truth from Summer’s grandmother. It’s bad enough that Rhonda’s afraid of being attacked by the same freak that went after Lou, but this too?”

  “Maybe it’s best if she and Summer left the area for a while, and you need protection too.”

  “Rhonda won’t go as long as Darcy’s around to protect her.”

  Theo’s expression froze. “Darcy?”

  “Her new tenant; the guy’s taken quite a liking to her.” As she watched him a horrible feeling coiled in her stomach. “You know him?”

  “Maybe; what’s he look like?”

  As she described Darcy, Theo swore.

  “Who is he, Theo?”

  “He’s an acquaintance who’s after the money.”

  “Great, just bloody great.” Despite the adrenalin rush warming her body, Casey hugged herself. “The cops are looking for a female suspect, but should they be taking a closer look at Darcy?”

  “I don’t know. I’d wondered about the female aspect myself, which was why I mentioned a woman when I called the police that night.”

  “What made you think the killer was a woman?”

  “A week before I came to Vancouver, I called to give Marcus my flight time. While we spoke, I heard a woman’s voice in the background. She wanted to know who was on the line, and it didn’t sound like Lillian.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  “I thought it would prejudice you against Lillian and Gislinde.” Theo headed for the door. “You need to stay open to all possibilities.”

  “Because you think they’re innocent?”

  “Because a rational, intelligent person would consider all options, and you have those qualities unless you’re eating chocolate,” he replied. “Can you think of anyone who wouldn’t have welcomed Marcus’s rebirth?”

  “I thought you believed the Mexican clients were behind this.”

  “I didn’t know Joseph and Carlos were in Vancouver until after I’d tipped off police, but it seems I need to rethink things too.” He opened the door. “I’ll be booking a flight to Vancouver. And I promise to talk to Lillian about Rhonda.”

  “Thanks.”

  It was only after Theo had left and she’d collapsed into bed that Casey thought of the one person who’d stood to lose the most from Dad’s resurrection. Vincent lizard-loving Wilkes.

  Sixteen

  AS THE JET touched down, Casey smiled, glad to be home. By the time her taxi reached Commercial Drive an hour later, though, apprehension had taken over. Familiar buildings looked strangely out of place, her street seemed different.

  She blamed exhaustion for the illusion. Red-eye flights were a lousy way to travel and, worse, everything she’d learned in Europe was either disheartening, confusing, or maddening. Time to put this mess behind her. Once she’d spoken with Vincent Wilkes and Detective Lalonde, she was done with the past. Why bother looking for the missing three million until the killer was caught?

  Part of her hoped she’d seen the last of Theo. Before she left Paris, Casey had again asked him questions about Dad and Darcy, but all Theo had said was, “The less you know the better.” Then he’d had the nerve to pump her for information about Simone. He finally shut up when she told him to ask Lalonde about the lady. She’d been grateful, though, when Theo promised to check out Gislinde Van Akker’s alibi and deal with Darcy the moment he arrived in Vancouver.

  Casey directed the driver to the back of the house, relieved that Rhonda’s and Darcy’s vehicles weren’t here. She didn’t want conversation right now.

  Stepping inside Rhonda’s kitchen, she still felt alienated. It was as if she needed to move through familiar spaces and touch familiar things, so that some sort of reattachment could take place. She trudged upstairs. Where was everyone? Fear flickered through her until Casey realized this was Saturday morning. She checked her watch. Summer was usually back from swim practice by now, unless she and Rhonda had gone camping this long weekend after all, though wouldn’t Rhonda have mentioned it on the phone?

  Casey rummaged for her key, opened the door to her apartment, and stepped into total chaos. Cushions, books, teddy bears, and ornaments were scattered everywhere. Fragments of broken glass sparkled on the hardwood floor. In her bedroom, drawers had been pulled out and clothes dumped in a heap.

  “God damn it!” She slumped into her rocking chair and took long deep breaths. What part of her life hadn’t been tampered with, and what, or whom, would be targeted next? Casey spotted the message light blinking on her phone. She pressed the button and heard Detective Lalonde ask her to call him. The next two caught her off guard. Both were from Simone Archambault who wanted to see her as soon as possible. The last caller was Stan. Since he usually worked Saturday mornings, Casey called him first.

  “Good, you’re back,” he said. “I need you to take over the purse snatching case. The kid stole another one last week and got a close look at Marie, so I can’t use her. The cops are thinking about stepping in, for shit’s sake.”

  Casey understood his irritation. Stan had earned the authorities’ respect, which was why they let him handle riskier situations. Unsolicited police intervention would be humiliating.

  “Did anyone stake out Vancouver Technical Secondary? I still think that high school’s our best option.”

  “I’ve had the part-timers try a couple of times, but nothing so far.”

  “School’s out until Tuesday, so do you want me to ride the M15 this weekend?”

  “Skip tomorrow; the kid hasn’t struck on a Sunday so far. How about Monday? I’ll leave the file on your desk.”

  “Sounds good.” She leaned back in the rocker. “Did you hear about Lou Sheckter?”

  “I saw him in the lunchroom this morning.”

  “He’s back at work?”

  “Yeah, he wanted to, and we’re short-staffed. By the way, some lady named Simone’s been looking for you—insisted on speaking to me personally, like I haven’t got enough to do. When I told her I didn’t know how to reach you, she hung up.”

  “I’ll call her.” Casey gazed at the mess in the room. “Did you ever find out who broke into the lockers?”

  “Nah, it’s probably a dead issue. How was Europe?”

  “Stressful. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “Good enough. I’ll be in on Monday. Take care, kiddo.”

  Casey looked around her apartment and decided to check out her car too.
r />   She found everything in her glove box on the floor mat. Casey jumped at the sound of a honking horn. She spun around and saw Rhonda coast to a stop. Summer scrambled out of the station wagon and threw her arms around Casey.

  “Why didn’t you call?” Rhonda shifted the bag of groceries. “I could have picked you up.” The half circles under her eyes had grown so dark they looked like two puffy bruises.

  “You’re busy Saturday mornings.” Casey gave her a hug. “I missed you guys.”

  “Missed you too,” Summer replied.

  “Have you seen your apartment?” Rhonda asked.

  “Yeah, when did it happen?”

  “Last night while Summer and I were out. I’d hoped to have everything back in place before you arrived, but I only got the kitchen done.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Casey rubbed tired eyes. “Were the other suites broken into?”

  “No.” Rhonda turned to Summer. “Would you plug in the kettle for me, honey?”

  “Sure.” Summer jogged toward the house.

  “I phoned the cops,” Rhonda said as they started up the steps. “They couldn’t find signs of forced entry. Do you know if anything’s missing?”

  “Haven’t checked yet. Where was Darcy when this happened?”

  “At the gym.”

  “Did you know my car’s been ransacked too?”

  “Hard to tell with all the garbage in there.” Rhonda looked at her. “What’s going on?”

  “I was told that a business deal of Dad’s went bad and the people involved want their money back. They think I know where he hid three million dollars.”

  “Three million?” Rhonda yelped and plunked onto the top step.

  “Whoever attacked Lou is probably connected to this deal.” Casey sat beside her. “Could be the same jerk who trashed my place, so maybe I should move out for a little while.”

  “Don’t.” As Rhonda shifted the grocery bag again, an orange fell out and bounced down the stairs. Casey started to go for it, but Rhonda grabbed her arm. “We’ll get police protection, and Darcy’s here.”

  Casey kept her face impassive. “Darcy can’t protect all of us at once.” Especially when he was part of the damn problem.

  “Summer needs you, Casey.” Rhonda turned and glanced at the kitchen door. “Something’s bothering her but she won’t tell me what, just says it’s nothing important.”

  Fear surged through Casey as she thought of Darcy. “Any ideas?”

  “Maybe Lillian already told her about her birth, but Summer won’t talk because she can’t accept it.” Rhonda shook her head. “Lillian’s calls are more irrational than usual, and I’m convinced she plans to turn you and Summer against me.”

  “She won’t succeed.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Rhonda hugged the grocery bag. “She’ll accuse me of killing Marcus, and Summer will wonder if it’s true ’cause I’ve kept this huge secret from her.” She again glanced at the kitchen. “Lillian’s setting me up, you see. She still hates me for getting engaged to Marcus, can’t let it go.”

  “How did Mother react when you first told her?”

  “She spewed that crap about him never understanding me as well as she did.”

  “When Mother called, did she ever talk about her life, what she was up to?”

  “She dropped clues now and then.” Rhonda gazed at the wayward orange lying on the grass. “Lalonde’s been badgering me about the murder, so I got mad and said that if he needed suspects, I’d seen a notebook

  full of them.” She bit her lip. “You’re going to give him the book, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m done with it.”

  Darcy’s Porsche pulled up. No way did she want to talk to the manipulative bastard.

  “Here’s my guy,” Rhonda said.

  Casey stood. “Your guy?”

  “Obviously, he’s no Marcus, but he’s behaved himself and we’re having fun. Which reminds me, are you going to see Lou today?”

  “Right after I take a nap; couldn’t sleep on the plane.”

  Casey hurried inside and up to her apartment. She dialed Simone’s number, but a recorded voice informed her the number was no longer in service. Why would she disconnect her phone and not leave a new number? Casey made her disheveled bed then crawled under the comforter.

  • • •

  A knock on the door woke her. She looked at the clock. A ninety-minute nap was long enough. She stumbled out of bed, opened the door, and smiled at Summer.

  “Come on in, sweetie. How are things?”

  While Summer described her swim practices and Sports Day events, Casey worked up the courage to raise the next topic. “I heard you had a nice chat with my mother.”

  “Yeah, she was cool.”

  Casey manoeuvred her way through the debris to the kitchen. Until now, she’d never discussed Mother with Summer. Too afraid her anger would show through. She didn’t want Summer to know how much shame a child could feel toward a parent.

  “What did you and Mother talk about?” Casey retrieved a jar of instant coffee from a cupboard.

  “Stuff you did when you were little.”

  To hide her annoyance, Casey looked for milk in the refrigerator.

  “I know Mom’s still a little mad about it,” Summer said. “I tried telling her that your mom was nice to me, but talking’s been hard with stupid Darcy always around.”

  Casey shut the door. “I thought you liked him.”

  Summer fidgeted as she looked at a collection of postcards taped to the fridge. “He thinks he can go wherever he wants.”

  “Like where?”

  “Like here.”

  Oh, hell. “When was this?”

  “Thursday night. I had to go to the bathroom and when I got back to my room, I heard your door close. I peeked out and saw Darcy coming downstairs.”

  “Did he see you?”

  “I only opened the door a tiny bit. He had his head down and was in a big rush.”

  Casey gazed at the textbook and papers on the floor under her kitchen table. “You’re sure this didn’t happen last night?”

  “Yep.”

  “Was Darcy carrying anything?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you tell your mom?”

  Summer shook her head. “She likes him, and besides, Mom asked him to fix your leaking tap.” She nodded toward the kitchen sink. “That’s why I thought he was here at first, but I didn’t see any tools.”

  They looked at the still leaking tap.

  “Your mom knows something’s been bothering you. Is it Darcy?”

  “Yeah, all he does is talk to her now, especially at night. Sometimes I just want to squish his head and stomp on it.”

  She probably knew their relationship was sexual. Poor kid. “You should tell your mom when Darcy’s out.”

  “I know, but it’s just that she seems, like, happy.”

  Too happy to notice that her affair bothered Summer? Casey dumped a heaping teaspoon of coffee in her mug.

  “Why would Darcy trash your place, anyway?” Summer asked.

  “I don’t know.” But she had a theory. Casey put her arm around Summer. “Tell me, has Darcy done anything else that makes you uncomfortable?”

  “No. Mostly, he just ignores me, and he’s gotten cranky.”

  “Thanks for letting me know, but I need to tell your mom about this, okay?”

  Summer nodded. “I gotta go. My friend Lisa and her parents are taking me to their cabin at Whistler in an hour, so I won’t see ya till Monday night.”

  “No camping with your mom this weekend?”

  “Darcy didn’t want to go, so she canceled it. Oh, and she wants to know if you’re hungry. She saved you some soup.”

  Casey smiled. “Thank her for me, but I’m going to see Lou.” She hugged Summer. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Summer smiled, “Totally, now that you’re back.”

  After she left, Casey called work and learned that Lou’s shift wouldn
’t end for two hours. Plenty of time to eat, change clothes, and meet him at Mainland. Boy, would he be surprised.

  • • •

  Casey thumbed through the contents of the file Stan had left on her desk. She’d already read everything once, and had memorized enough new info about the kid to easily recognize the pimply twerp the moment he stepped onto the bus.

  She checked her watch. Forty-five more minutes before Lou pulled into the depot. Drumming her fingers on the desk, she looked at the long, rectangular room. Since the administration staff didn’t work weekends, the place was quiet. Casey closed the file and stood. Why not meet Lou a couple of stops from here? It’d be fun to see the look on his face when she climbed on board.

  As often happened during Victoria Day long weekends in Vancouver, the good weather had left town along with the camping and cottage folks. Cool air and a gloomy sky warned of an approaching rainfall. Casey exited through the front of the building and headed down Lougheed, grateful for the busy mix of retail outlets, car dealerships, restaurants, and light industry along this stretch of highway. Plenty of people around. No reason to feel alone or vulnerable, to look over her shoulder every minute.

  She had to admit that recent events haunted her dreams. Separating truth from lies was tough, and the suspect list kept growing: Theo, Gislinde, Mother, Daphne Reid, Vincent Wilkes, and possibly two Mexicans named Joseph and Carlos. Reid was the only one with no clear motive. As for the others, Theo was out three million dollars and a partner. Gislinde might have discovered that Mother was still in the picture and that Dad had been hoarding a lot of cash. Vincent might have worried that Dad wanted his house and architectural firm back. As for Mother, well, their history spoke for itself. Also troubling was the one name Casey hadn’t added to her list, yet couldn’t forget: Gustaf Osterman.

  By the time she reached the last bus stop before the depot, the sky rumbled and a raindrop plopped onto her forehead. As she moved to the covered area, she spotted two men, possibly Mexican, heading for the stop at a quick pace.

  They were staring at her. The older man wore a suit while the younger one sported jeans and a T-shirt. She had no idea how long they’d been behind her, but their grim expressions didn’t indicate a leisurely stroll. As they drew near, Casey’s breathing quickened. She looked for signs of weapons.

 

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