The Frailty of Flesh

by Sandra Ruttan

  That was when he realized the footsteps had stopped. He looked up as Tain reached for Ashlyn’s arm, tilting his head toward the door. Ashlyn stood frozen for a moment, looking from Emma to Craig before letting Tain lead her inside.

  “Look, I’ve already told you I didn’t even work this case. And I don’t know how you heard about the break-in, but that’s hardly front-page news. A few dozen homes are broken into every day in the GVA.”

  “But how many of those homes are owned by a ranking RCMP officer who just happened to get promoted after closing a high-profile murder investigation, the same murder investigation that is now under review? Word is, Donny Lockridge plans to file a lawsuit against your father over his wrongful conviction—”

  “Alleged wrongful conviction. He was put on trial and convicted by a jury. That wouldn’t have happened if there wasn’t evidence to support it.”

  She smiled. “See? We’re talking and you weren’t struck by lightning. It probably didn’t even hurt.”

  Craig blew out a breath and ran his hand over his head, pushing his hair back before pointing at her. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice person, don’t take it personally. But you’re jumping to conclusions without facts and printing such speculation would be irresponsible and unprofessional.”

  “Which is why I’m here, talking to you, trying to find out what did happen. Don’t you want to know? Aren’t you curious?” She looked him in the eye. “Is there any part of you that doubts Donny Lockridge murdered Hope Harrington?”

  “How can I answer that? I’ve hardly even had a chance to look at the files.”

  Craig almost groaned when she smiled. “So, you admit you’re looking into this?”

  He raised his hand to stop her. “I am reviewing the case only because I have been ordered to. It has nothing to do with my father, the break-in, you, Lockridge’s lawyer or anything else.”

  Craig started to walk to the building, but she wasn’t deterred from following him. “Is that why you met with Lisa Harrington today?”

  He grabbed the door and didn’t even acknowledge her question with a glance as he marched into the building, thankful that she had enough sense not to follow him any farther.

  “I’ll catch up in a minute.” Ashlyn pushed the door to the ladies’ room open and disappeared inside.

  Tain paused. Should he wait, make sure she was okay? They’d had a long, hard day with little to show for their efforts, but he hadn’t seen her shoulders sag so low since they’d been working almost around the clock on the child abductions and murders. The “angel arsons,” as the press called them.

  He continued down the hall, knowing how she’d react if he checked up on her. Still, he wondered about Craig and the woman outside. Ashlyn had never been the jealous type. Then again, as far as he knew, Craig had never given her reason to be. His own instincts told him that whoever the woman outside was, she was far more interested in Craig than he was in her. The bit of their exchange he’d heard had been strained, the woman trying to sound casual, pleasant, but Craig’s posture had been tense and he’d looked agitated.

  “Did you get it?”

  Tain looked up and almost wished he hadn’t. Zidani was nodding at Luke Geller, whatever response he had kept low enough that Tain couldn’t make out the words.

  They were in an adjoining hallway, not the one Tain needed to go down. He just hoped they were too busy with their chat to notice him.

  A small stack of notes waited on his desk. Updates from various officers following leads on the case. So far, no luck anywhere. Shannon hadn’t been seen at school. Her friends had been questioned but hadn’t offered anything useful. The 911 call had been tracked down, with the tape sent to Zidani, but they hadn’t gotten any useful prints from the phone. Nothing that would allow for an identification that would stand up in court.

  He clipped the notes together and put them on his “in” tray.

  Ashlyn entered the room and stopped at the cooler to pour a cup of water. Tain watched her push her hair back from her pale face and take a sip. After a few gulps she dropped the cup into the wastebasket and walked to her desk, which faced his.

  She dropped into her chair, propped her elbows on the desk, let her head fall into her hands and rubbed her temples with her fingers.

  Tain pulled a bottle from the top drawer of his desk and passed it to her. “Here. I’ll get you another drink.”

  She wasn’t lacking the energy to glare at him. “I’m fine.”

  “Ash—”

  He was familiar with the look she was giving him. The one that said I’m not a child. I can take care of myself. He forced a look of contrition. “You sure?”

  She straightened up, forcing her body to hold the weight of her head as she dropped her hands. “I’m good.”

  He lowered his voice. “Just a word of warning, that headache’s about to get worse.”

  Her eyes narrowed and then closed when she heard the words “My office. Now.”

  Zidani waited for them instead of letting them follow him, which meant they had no time to come up with excuses. He walked behind them and as soon as he’d followed them into his office he told Tain to shut the door.

  They weren’t invited to sit down.

  Zidani passed a note to Ashlyn, who took it without comment. “No teachers, staff, volunteers, students or parents of students are to be questioned on school property without making arrangements with the principal and the school’s lawyer.” He sat down in his chair, leaned back and smiled. “Tell me something I want to hear.”

  Ashlyn glanced at Tain for half a second before she responded. “We did develop a useful lead. A few of Shannon’s close friends were absent, and we spoke directly to one of them and Shannon’s boyfriend, who told us that Shannon had planned to run away today.”

  Zidani frowned, but still kept the sarcasm out of his response. “She’ll be even harder to find if she was prepared, won’t she?”

  Ashlyn nodded. “Yes. But we sent other officers to question her friends who weren’t in class. We know she’s not with any of them. This morning we thought it was spontaneous, that she was on the run. Now we know she’d made arrangements, probably had money saved. What we need is to figure out where Shannon would plan to go, if she has a friend who might have had a job for her to go to. We’ll also be monitoring the boyfriend closely.”

  “He’ll know where she is. They always do.”

  “I don’t think so. He was pretty convincing. He said that Shannon wouldn’t tell him where she was going so he wouldn’t have to try to lie.” Ashlyn paused. “I believed him.”

  “So did I,” Tain said. “The kid was jumpy. I had the impression—” He looked at Ashlyn, then continued, “I got the feeling there were problems at home, that something was going on that prompted her to run away.”

  “Well, kids don’t usually take off on a whim,” Zidani said.

  “Unless this was just a case of trying to get attention, maybe being unhappy because she thinks her parents love her brothers more and she wants a car for Christmas or something.”

  Ashlyn’s mouth twisted and then she shook her head. “No, I agree with Tain. We tried to get access to the house, just to check Shannon’s room. We wanted to see just how prepared she was, if there were bags missing, a lot of clothes and personal items, but the lawyer wouldn’t let us without a search warrant. Without more proof we’ve only got what the boyfriend told us.”

  “Which was corroborated by one of Shannon’s school friends,” Tain added.

  “Still…” Zidani smiled. “Young girls love drama. What better way to get attention? This friend you spoke to, was it a girl?”

  Tain saw Ashlyn draw a breath. “Yes.”

  Zidani nodded. “And the witness? The one near the park?”

  “Not home when we went there. We’ve been back twice.”

  Zidani leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “So what’s next?”

  Tain saw Ashlyn glance at him again. They’d come in, prepar
ed for a confrontation, and Zidani’s demeanor seemed to be throwing her off as much as it was unnerving him.

  “Sims recovered what’s believed to be the murder weapon and clothing discarded near the scene that was stained with blood. We’ll check with the lab to confirm that, see if we can link the items to the Reimer family. We’ll try to get the lawyer to give us access to the family to question them. Of course, we can’t expect much there. Smythe will have spent the day coaching them,” Ashlyn said. “We do have officers monitoring the Reimer home, in case Shannon tries to return and will expand the search for her, question all relatives, acquaintances.”

  Tain waited, but it never came. He knew what he thought Ashlyn really wanted to do with the investigation, but even Zidani’s attempts to play nice weren’t enough to get her to take the bait, if that’s what this was. She waited silently, hands now clasped behind her back, chin jutting out just a touch.

  Whatever Zidani thought, he was keeping it to himself. No smile, no snide comment… Nothing. “Right. Sounds like you have things under control. It’s pretty much a slam dunk anyway. Tragic murder of a young boy by his older sister, who clearly has some emotional issues. Go home, get some sleep.”

  Tain only hesitated for a moment before opening the door. Once they’d put a safe distance between themselves and the office he looked at Ashlyn.

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” she said. “This afternoon, while we were looking for Shannon Reimer, aliens landed and replaced our acting sergeant with a clone.”

  “They didn’t get the personality right.”

  She smiled, and once they reached their work area turned around and leaned against her desk. “Part of me wants to ask what the hell just happened, but the other part’s mumbling something about gift horses.”

  “Go home. Get some sleep. Before the Martians realize what a bastard Zidani is and swap him back.”

  This time she didn’t smile. Instead, her eyes took on weight. “Tain, you know I want to look hard at—”

  He held up his hand. “Yes. And you’re right.” He tilted his head in the direction they’d just come from. “And we’d best keep it quiet until we have more than the word of two teenagers to go on.”

  “So it wasn’t just…?” She shrugged.

  “No. But it wasn’t like he gave us a direct order, was it?”

  He squeezed her shoulder and held her gaze for a moment. When he saw the flicker of a smile he let go and went to his own desk.

  She said good night and left without further comment. Another message had come in since they’d gone to Zidani’s office, and he picked up the slip of paper. It only took a few seconds to read it, and then he slipped it in his pocket and reached for the Tylenol he’d offered Ashlyn earlier.

  Just another headache he didn’t need.

  As soon as Craig arrived at his desk his partner stood. “It’s finished. Nothing left to do.” Luke pulled on his coat. “See you tomorrow.”

  Craig nodded and sank into his chair, bumping his foot against a box as he did.

  The Harrington case files. He sighed, glanced at his watch. They’d have to wait, unless he wanted to take them home. There was no way he was going to risk running into Zidani again after the day he’d had.

  He pulled out the box he’d been going through earlier and opened the lid. On top were the files he’d been looking at, the ones with the reports and crime-scene photos. All the case notes, interviews, leads tracked down…All of that still waited in the folders below.

  Craig realized he’d spilled a bit of information when he was talking to Emma Fenton, but she’d reciprocated. Legal action. It explained Zidani’s interest. Anything that could taint Steve would help Zidani keep his job, and he’d no longer be “acting sergeant.” The promotion would be finalized.

  After a minute Craig stood, picked up the second box and stacked it on top of the first one. It wasn’t until he was outside, boxes propped between his body and the Rodeo as he dug in his pocket for his keys, that he realized he hadn’t talked to Ashlyn.

  He opened the door, put the boxes on the front passenger seat and got in.

  They’d talk when she got home.

  Ashlyn pulled into her parking spot and stopped her car. She leaned back in her seat, listening to the drumming of rain on the roof. First it came down slow, erratically. Then it built to a steady rhythm, the kind of long, dug-in rainfall that demanded you take it seriously, coming down thick and fast.

  Thick enough to distort her view of the house. Through the water she could see the warm glow from inside. Craig was home. He hadn’t waited to talk to her at the station. She knew that, because she’d checked at his desk before heading for her car.

  She closed her eyes as she rubbed her temples, wished the rain could wash away her headache. What was it about the nausea that was making her head feel like the inside of a mixing bowl with the beaters set on high? Her stomach wasn’t even that agitated; it just sent a clear message that it was set to trampoline mode, that any time she even thought about eating it was ready to bounce up some lingering remnant from a previous meal to remind her it wasn’t accepting contributions at the moment.

  Throughout the day she’d felt Tain’s gaze on her, sensed the unasked questions. If she couldn’t shake this quickly…

  She sighed and opened the car door. The idea that she wasn’t in control of her own body, that she couldn’t even coerce its cooperation, bothered her. There had to be a way for her to handle it.

  The rain was cold and she felt a shiver run down her spine, but could still only manage to walk to the door. By the time she was inside and had hung up her coat the chill had seeped through her clothes and skin, right to her core.

  The house was quiet. No music, no sizzle of the wok or whirring of the microwave to guide her to Craig. The only clue was the light spilling over from the living room. Her legs protested as she forced herself to walk down the hall, telling her they only had enough strength left to carry her upstairs to bed and that if she went this way she’d have to figure out another way to get to her bed, because they’d have called it quits for the day.

  In the corner of the room, on the far side of the fireplace, the half-decorated Christmas tree stood, performing its fiber optic light show. Ashlyn had thought it would be so much easier having a fiber optic tree. No need to fiddle with strings of lights, to try to evenly disperse them throughout the branches. Just plug it in and hang the decorations. What could be simpler? They kept saying tonight they’d go to the mall or the afternoon of their next day off together, and then a case would get in the way. Always her case, never his. Not since Lori had died. She felt a sudden urge to make tree decorations a top priority. Part of her knew she wouldn’t really feel it was Christmas until they had a tree decorated and had done something festive, but it was more than that. It wasn’t something she could explain, but she was overwhelmed with a compulsion to make sure the routine holiday traditions didn’t go undone.

  Craig was in the living room, sitting on the chair beside the fireplace, two boxes on the floor, files stacked precariously on the coffee table. He said nothing as she sank down on the couch, but continued reading the report in his hands. Then he thumbed through a stack of folders on the table, pulled one out and flipped it open. After a moment his frown deepened and he set it down with the report on top of it.

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. Ashlyn knew that look.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His head snapped up and he stared at her for a moment before the color returned to his face. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

  “Craig, really,” she said as she picked up the blanket that had been tossed over the far end of the couch and spread it over her legs. She put her head on the armrest. “You were so deep in thought you would have missed the second coming, trumpets and all.”

  “Hardly. This isn’t even the first time tonight I’ve turned to find you watching me.”

  She sat up, the blanket slippi
ng to the floor. “You’re talking to some woman, in public, right in front of the building I work in, and I’m not supposed to notice?”

  “I talk to women all the time. It never bugged you before.”

  “Who said it bugs me now?”

  He glanced at her as he gathered the folders and put them back in the box. “Take a look in the mirror. You’re choked.”

  “Not for the reason you think! You’re the one who’s being defensive. You looked upset when you were talking to that woman, tense. I was worried, not jealous.”

  “I can handle her.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  They sat for a moment, the beating of rain intensifying, drowning out even the crackle of fire.

  She heard him exhale and from the corner of her eye could see him scratch his head. “Look, I’m sorry. I guess I was distracted, and it’s been a lousy day and that’s no excuse. Are you hungry? I was thinking of making a stir fry.”

  The words alone were enough to make her stomach protest, and she shook her head and raised her hand. “No. Thanks. I think I’ll just go to bed.” Whether it was the promise of sleep or the thought of her stomach reacting to the sizzle of vegetables on a wok she wasn’t sure, but she found the energy to get up and start walking to the stairs.

  He followed her. “Come on, Ash. I’m sorry for snapping at you. You don’t have to punish me for it.”

  “Believe it or not, the whole world doesn’t revolve around Craig Nolan. I’m just tired.” She turned to look at him. “You aren’t the only one who had a lousy day.”

  He stood perfectly still as he looked at her. No flicker of emotion on his face, nothing to suggest what he was thinking. After a moment he nodded. “Okay.” Then he reached behind her head with his hand and kissed her forehead. For a moment he stood with his cheek pressed against her temple before letting her go. “Get some rest.”

  She turned quickly so he wouldn’t see the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and climbed the stairs.

  It took a moment for her to get her bearings when she opened her eyes. Somehow, her body knew it wasn’t late. She also knew she was in her own bed, the one she shared with Craig. The thing that struck her most was what was missing from within her. For the first time in days her head wasn’t throbbing and her stomach didn’t feel as though someone was using it as a juggling ball.