The Frailty of Flesh

by Sandra Ruttan

  “Description?” Craig asked.

  Luke shook his head. “Generic. Too far away to tell if it was a man or a woman or give a good guess on height. The neighbor couldn’t say for sure, but his glasses are as thick as Coke bottles. Dark hair hidden by a ski cap, dark jacket, sweatpants as far as he could tell.”

  “When’s Dad coming back?” Craig asked Alison.

  “He flies home tomorrow.”

  She didn’t avert her gaze, her cheeks didn’t redden, she didn’t flinch or hesitate. Craig had never known his stepmother to lie to him, and he didn’t think if she tried now she could do it so convincingly. Which meant that wherever his dad was, Alison didn’t know.

  “You should stay at our place tonight. I’d feel a lot better, knowing you’re okay.”

  Alison shook her head. “I’m not going to be chased out of my own home.”

  “You can’t stay here! It’s not safe.”

  “I have a gun.”

  “Since when?”

  “It’s licensed and I know how to use it.”

  “Alison…” He thought back to the day before. The unexplained blood on the floor.

  “I haven’t used it. I hope I don’t have to. But once you start running, when do you stop? Could be it was just some kid, cutting through the yard this time. It happens.”

  “Then why run?”

  “If a rottweiler came charging at you, wouldn’t you run?”

  He tossed up his hands. “But if anything else happens, you call me right away. And if you can’t get me you call Ashlyn. Or Tain.”

  Craig stood, paused to bend down and kiss her on the cheek, then started down the stairs. When he reached the bottom he felt someone grab his arm.

  “Should I be asking for a new partner?” Luke asked him as he turned.

  “If you want one.”

  “You’re a real piece of work. I heard Tain was a son of a bitch, but he’s got nothing on you.” Luke brushed past him, yanked the door open and slammed it behind him.

  Craig went down the hall to the room where the boxes were stored. A break-in at his dad’s home and at Lisa Harrington’s and another attempted break-in, all in less than twenty-four hours? It was quite a coincidence.

  He opened the closet. The day before he’d been forced to leave the box where the intruder had left it, pulled out and set to one side. It took less than a second to confirm it wasn’t there now, and he scanned the rest of the boxes.

  It hadn’t been put back either.

  Craig walked through the lower level, rechecking everything. It didn’t appear that anyone had been in since the break-in the day before, but somehow someone had stolen the files the intruder was after.

  His dad’s work files. Files that dated back to the time of Hope Harrington’s murder investigation.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ashlyn hung up the phone and got to her feet. “Let’s go.”

  Tain stood and reached for his coat. “Where?”

  “Anywhere but here, preferably before Zidani finds us.”

  She’d called social services and after restating her request three times had been assured she’d get a call back when the case worker was tracked down. All she could do was thank them and leave her cell number.

  Once they were inside the car she pulled out the address book Byron Smythe had given them and started leafing through it. “Wonderful.”

  “What?”

  “She lists everyone by first name only. Nurani, Jody Matt. And you can hardly call it an address book. All it lists are phone numbers. Cell phone numbers.”

  “And here I thought our buddy Byron was trying to be helpful. That’s useless.” Tain started the car. “He must really like you.”

  Ashlyn smacked him on the arm with the address book. She didn’t like Byron Smythe, but she also didn’t take him for a fool. Coming in on a Saturday, insisting on a personal update on the search for Shannon under the pretext of providing useless information…She could charge him with interfering with a police investigation. It might not stick, but it could still hurt him.

  And he’d be off the Reimer case. Conflict of interest.

  She doubted that was what he wanted. Smythe could pawn the case off on one of the other lawyers in his firm with the snap of a finger. She opened the address book again, this time at the very first page and started reading everything.

  Ashlyn whistled. “I changed my mind. Let’s go talk to Zidani.”

  “Are you nuts?” He looked at her for a moment, but didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled back into the spot he’d just backed out of and parked the car.

  Ashlyn got out and shut the door. Once she was beside Tain on the sidewalk she held out the book.

  “I guess BS isn’t completely useless after all.”

  Zidani’s door was open when they got there. She knocked, but didn’t wait for him to respond before entering. “Sir, we—”

  “Sir?” He smirked. “What’s the occasion? Don’t tell me you just want something and you think playing nice is the way to get it.”

  Ashlyn could feel her cheeks burn, but she didn’t let that stop her. “Actually, I have bad news. We have reason to believe that Shannon Reimer didn’t kill her brother. She may be a victim.” She gave Zidani a quick recap of what they’d learned from the evidence and the statements the neighbors made. “What we do have is this,” she said as she set the address book down on his desk. “Shannon’s cell number and billing information.”

  “You want to put a trace on the phone, see if we can track her location that way?”

  “Not just that. I want to clone it so that we can monitor any incoming calls. It might help us establish motive and piece together what happened.”

  “And if she’s dead it won’t help you at all.”

  “Unless the phone is active and someone leaves a message.” Ashlyn shrugged. “There’s no guarantee we’ll even get her location. But right now, we don’t have access to the family and without more to go on, I don’t know how we’re going to find Shannon.”

  “You could end up spending hours in office, wasting time, getting nothing useful.”

  “Put Sims on it, and one other officer. Skeleton crew working on a long shot.”

  Zidani reached for his phone. “Have you tracked down that other witness who saw the kids at the park?”

  “Not yet,” Tain said.

  “Then get to work.”

  “Don’t forget to take that book to the lab. They might be able to get Shannon’s prints. I’ve touched it, you have, Byron Smythe and who knows who else, but it’s still worth a shot.”

  Zidani nodded and jerked his thumb in the direction of the door.

  Once they were in the hallway Tain said, “I guess that’s Zidani for ‘dismissed.’ ”

  “He can’t be feeling well. We just had a whole conversation with him without an argument.”

  “Well, if I didn’t know better I’d swear you’re seriously ill. You called him ‘sir.’ ”

  Ashlyn suppressed a grin. “Could be proof miracles still happen. Might restore your faith in a divine power in control of the universe.”

  “Best it could get me is belief in Santa Claus, and even that’s unlikely,” Tain said as he followed her out to the parking lot.

  “So you don’t believe in…” She considered her words. “Whatever your people believe in?”

  “Why this sudden curiosity?”

  Ashlyn shrugged. “You ever think about it when we’re on a call? Like yesterday.”

  Tain looked down as he opened the car door. He didn’t get inside, just stood there silently, one hand resting on the hood of the vehicle, gaze lowered. Then he said, “Sure. I think about it,” and got in the car.

  She got in the passenger side. “Why don’t you ever let me drive?”

  “Whatever’s waiting on the other side of death, I don’t want to find out just yet.”

  It was the kind of smart-ass comment she expected from him, but it lacked its usual underlying humor. There was a tensio
n that had settled in his forehead and his neck, something about his bearing that told her the question was weighing on his mind.

  “You’d think with all the cases we’ve had, with that big one back in the summer, that this wouldn’t bother me so much,” she said. “If anything, it’s gotten harder.”

  He glanced at her as he pulled out onto the road. “You handle it well.”

  “C’mon, Tain. You saw me yesterday. It rattled me, more than I like to admit.”

  “You’re human. What matters most is that you put your feelings aside and did your job. And you do it well. There were some guys there who’ve been with the department longer than you or I who were pretty shook up yesterday.”

  “Sometimes I wonder what good we’re doing. Maybe it makes more sense to be a social worker, to intervene before stuff like this happens.”

  “Yeah, social services did a helluva lot of good for this family.”

  Most of the time, Ashlyn felt she and Tain got along extremely well. He could be harsh and unforgiving, as Sims knew, but she always felt she understood Tain. Deep down, they had a level of trust and respect that formed the foundation of their working relationship.

  But every now and again she caught a glimpse of a side of him that he kept shut off from her, things he didn’t share. Either because he thought it would affect her ability to work with him or because there were still things he didn’t trust her with.

  The way he spoke about social services, the venom in his words, surprised her. It wasn’t an offhand remark or even the criticism of someone who felt the system had let a family down with devastating consequences. No, something in his words felt… personal. And private.

  “Sometimes we have to let killers go free, Tain. No system is perfect.”

  He parked the car at the address of the witness, but he didn’t get out right away. “Look, I’ll try to keep an open mind until they call us back, but a child is dead. There was a history of abuse, and that was reported. Right now, the thing I want to know is why any of those children were still in Richard and Tracy Reimer’s care.”

  He got out of the car, and once she’d closed the door she held up her hands. “I agree with you.”

  “Then let’s drop it.”

  “Because this really isn’t about Shannon and Jeffrey Reimer.”

  Tain turned and glared at her. She’d known the moment the words were out of her mouth that she’d crossed a line, and the look on his face made her feel as though someone had just weighed her heart down with a brick.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s none of my business.”

  He turned wordlessly and walked up the driveway to the house.

  When they reached the front step he held back, so she rang the bell. After a moment, when there was no answer, she rapped on the door.

  Ashlyn turned around and scratched her forehead. “So much for that.” She walked back to the car, conscious of Tain behind her and his silence. When they reached the passenger door he handed her the keys, but refused to meet her gaze.

  As she climbed in the driver’s side her cell phone rang. She answered it.

  “How are you feeling today?” Craig asked.

  “Good. What happened with that call this morning?”

  There was a pause before he answered. “It’s complicated.”

  “I thought you were on routine stuff, babysitting duty. How complicated can it be?” She ground her palm into her forehead, instantly regretting her words. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  He was silent for a moment, then asked, “Did you still want to meet up later?”

  “If you’re free. Craig—”

  “Six thirty? At the food court.”

  “Unless something comes up with this case.”

  “Call if it does.”

  “Sure. Craig—”

  “I can’t talk right now. I’ll see you later.”

  He cut the call before she had a chance to say anything else.

  Craig tossed his cell phone on the passenger seat. Then he started his Rodeo and drove to the highway. What he wanted to do could be done from his own desk, but he didn’t want to deal with Luke Geller. With any luck, by the time he did show up at the office, Luke would be reassigned to another partner.

  If Zidani would let him. For a second, he almost felt bad for Luke. It wasn’t fun to be on the receiving end of Zidani’s contempt, granted, but what had Luke done to deserve being stuck shadowing an officer who was basically on desk duty?

  It was Zidani who helped Craig decide which station to head to. Langley RCMP knew he’d been out at Lisa Harrington’s that morning. Technically, Lisa lived in Langley Township, but the Langley RCMP covered policing in the entire area. She wasn’t far from Aldergrove, which was where Hope’s body had been recovered. His boss had ordered him to review a case from their territory; coming to ask for their input was professional courtesy, not stepping on toes.

  He was also hoping that Zidani’s interference that morning had been limited to the main station, in Langley, so the officers in Aldergrove wouldn’t worry about speaking to him.

  Before he got inside the building he bumped into an officer older than his father. “Constable Klassen? Isaac Klassen?” He gestured at the name tag, which betrayed the surname and rank.

  “Yes. What can I do for you?”

  “Constable Craig Nolan, Coquitlam RCMP.” Craig shook Klassen’s hand. “I’ve been assigned to review an old file, the Hope Harrington case.”

  “Ah.” The lines in the man’s face deepened. “Crime like that, you never forget it.”

  “I recognized your name from the case notes. You viewed the crime scene?”

  Klassen nodded. “Called in to help search for evidence. It really wasn’t my case. Steve Daly and Ted Bicknell were the ones who worked it.”

  “I can’t find any record of Ted Bicknell. No phone listed in the province for him.”

  Klassen hesitated, as though he was considering how much to say. “I didn’t know him well myself, but one of the other officers might be in touch. He’s on holidays until Tuesday, though.”

  “It would be a real help if you could ask him if he knows where Ted is.”

  “Sure, but you can talk to Steve Daly yourself. He’s inside.”

  Craig tried to keep the surprise from registering on his face as he followed Klassen through the building to the staff room. But when they got there it was empty. Klassen looked out the window and tapped it. Craig only saw the blur of a dark green sedan driving past. “Just missed him.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll catch him at home.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as tense as he felt. “I don’t suppose you’d have time to show me where Hope’s body was found.”

  Again, Klassen shrugged. “Suit yourself. You can ride with me.”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’ll follow.”

  When they arrived at the alley Craig parked behind the cruiser. Klassen led him several yards down from the road. “It was right here.” He pointed at the pavement. “She was found faceup.”

  Klassen walked him through the basics, nothing the files hadn’t already told him. No blood trail and little blood at the scene, suggesting she’d been killed elsewhere, her body moved. The lab had found fibers that matched a blanket from the Harrington home, one from Hope’s own bed. Lisa Harrington had noticed the blanket was missing when the police had searched Hope’s bedroom. They’d matched fibers from the blanket left on the bedspread. A dog the family had looked after for a few days had chewed on the hem, causing it to fray.

  It was enough to suggest someone who had access to her house and to justify searching the property, which was when they’d found the murder weapon.

  The case had weaknesses, though. They’d never located any eyewitnesses, despite five times canvassing the area where Hope’s body had been found.

  “Why did you guys cover the same ground again and again?” Craig asked.

  “It was a bad case. Bad timing. Another young girl had been murdered o
nly a few weeks before, in Surrey. Not our jurisdiction, but nobody wanted to think this was an epidemic. The public needed reassurance. I remember thinking I was glad I wasn’t Bicknell or Daly, with all the pressure they were under to make an arrest, and do it fast. Me, I’ve always been more interested in community policing. Working murders, rapes, this kind of a case?” Klassen shook his head. “Not for me. Even now I can’t get the bad taste out of my mouth. Kind of call that really gets to you and then won’t get lost later. I mean, s’pose that’s as it should be. I’ve got my own kids. Have you got kids?”

  Craig shook his head.

  “You have kids you’ll understand what I’m saying. I knew Hope. Not well, but she was a nice girl. There wasn’t much in her life to be happy about, but she was still a sweet kid. Me, I went home and hugged my kids so tight I thought they’d break. But Bicknell and Daly, they closed the case. Daly made rank as a result. Bicknell retired a few months later. I suspect it took a big toll on him. Never really figured him for the type to handle an investigation like this, and it wasn’t as though he’d been working with Daly all that long, but they still put it down. Never seemed to rattle Daly, though, but then he didn’t have kids of his own.”

  Something told Craig that if Klassen knew of his relationship to Steve Daly, he’d stop talking, so he didn’t set him straight.

  Craig shook Klassen’s hand. “Thanks for taking the time to walk me through it.” He pulled out a card and passed it to Klassen. “If you think of anything else, anything that didn’t sit right with you about the case…”

  Klassen’s eyes narrowed. “You doubt they got the right guy?”

  “I’m trying to make sure it’s airtight. You haven’t heard about the civil suit? Donny Lockridge is going after the department.”