The Frailty of Flesh

by Sandra Ruttan

  “Look, when we’re on duty we’re expected to put the personal aside and be professionals. You wouldn’t expect your wife to be questioned about how you’re coping with an investigation or an officer’s girlfriend to be called in to talk about his mental state. If you want to know how Craig’s doing, you ask him.” She turned and reached for the door.

  “But you don’t blame Tain for sharing concerns about you, when he thought you were going to cross the line on an investigation.”

  How had Zidani found out about that? Steve had kept Tain out of the report. Zidani had dug deep, done his homework. She took a deep breath. “He’s my partner. If I mess up on the job it can jeopardize his safety, maybe even cost him his life.” She took a breath. “Is that all?”

  “For now.”

  When Ashlyn shut the door behind her she noticed her hand was shaking. Had something happened to Craig that she didn’t know about? Maybe that was why he hadn’t replied to her message.

  That overwhelming, irrational fear ran through the core of her body and chilled her to the bone. She took a deep breath. Stay focused. Right now your priority is Shannon Reimer. And on some level, she was already starting to come to grips with the fact that there wasn’t anything she could do to help Craig.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Nothing softens the arrogance of our nature…

  Craig stared at Ashlyn’s text message. After ignoring it all day, along with several messages from Emma Fenton, now that he found himself staring at the seven words on the screen he felt his stomach twist.

  He set the phone down and thought about what he’d put in the evidence bag hours before. The locket was such a small, simple thing, but so many lives were connected to it, like links in the chain the locket hung on, and the truths it might tell would affect them all.

  Of course, it was also possible the locket would reveal nothing, leaving them with unanswered questions and enough lingering doubt to work on them like a slow poison.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t understand why Ashlyn had wanted him to back off from this case. He just couldn’t let it go. And now as he considered the words of her message he wondered how things had gotten so messed up so fast.

  The half-empty glass on the table beside his phone bore witness to that.

  And she’d know if he called, even though he wasn’t drunk. The lie of evasion would weigh on him, and she’d sense it, just one more seed of doubt planted between them. No. When he talked to her, he needed to be as clear as a bell.

  This was why he tried to read. To fill the void with distractions, to keep the demons at bay. The effort had been there before, but once Ashlyn moved in he’d pushed himself harder than ever, trying to settle down. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her—the box with the ring was waiting for Christmas. It was that he couldn’t find a way to kill the anger gnawing at him from inside. As much as he tried, outer illusion wasn’t effecting much internal change.

  A sharp knock at his door interrupted his thoughts, and he hastily dumped the balance of the beverage in the bathroom sink and tossed the bottle in the garbage. All he needed was a quick glance through the peephole to confirm what he suspected before he opened the door.

  “Constable Nolan? I’m Constable Williams.” The man glanced past Craig’s shoulder and surveyed the room. “I understand you were talking to Brandy Lockridge today.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Craig remained in the entrance and didn’t invite the officer in. Williams had a round face, was losing his hair and kept a ready smile close at hand, which Craig had already seen three times since opening the door.

  “If you require any assistance we’d be happy to provide background, let you use our facilities…” Williams smiled again, this time a big, toothy grin. “Just let us know.”

  “I expect to be returning home tomorrow.”

  “Home. Langley is it?”

  Craig fought to keep his face blank. He hadn’t gone to the local RCMP station to check in. An oversight, more than strategy. But here was an officer, who knew where to find him and seemed to have a pretty good idea what he was doing in Kelowna.

  “Tri-Cities, actually.”

  The smile slipped for a second. “Well, Mrs. Lockridge only mentioned you’d been here about her brother-in-law, so I assumed.”

  Craig forced a polite smile. “Funny, I had the impression Mrs. Lockridge wasn’t anxious to talk about her brother-in-law or his legal proceedings.”

  “Well, she’s in the hospital. Says she fell down the stairs.”

  “And do we believe her?”

  The smile was completely gone. “No. At least, I don’t. I understand you’ve been instructed to review an old case. I can also understand that most police officers do not like someone checking up on their work. I can even appreciate that might explain why you didn’t notify us of your intention to question someone in our jurisdiction. However, when that person ends up in the hospital a few hours later, I do need to ask some questions, and I hope that you can understand that.”

  Craig nodded. “You want me to come with you to the station?”

  “The hospital, actually.”

  “Do you really think that if someone assaulted Brandy because I questioned her that she’ll be willing to speak to me?”

  “I think if the person who hypothetically assaulted her is at the hospital, he’s more likely to react if I return with you.”

  Craig grabbed his keys, cell phone and coat. It didn’t take long for them to reach the hospital. Williams’s easy smile was firmly back in place as he nodded at doctors and greeted nurses. The city of Kelowna was approximately half the size of the Tri-Cities in terms of population. Add in the commuter traffic that flowed through Craig’s jurisdiction and the proximity to other major cities, such as Vancouver and Burnaby and it wasn’t surprising that Kelowna felt more like a town to Craig than a city, although he knew from his own experiences working in the interior that locals would bristle at the inference. It wasn’t meant as an insult, he just couldn’t imagine knowing the local hospital staff by name. At least, not as many as Williams seemed to know.

  As though he sensed what Craig was thinking Williams shrugged. “Born and raised here, and our church congregation is a fair size.”

  “How long have you known the Lockridge family?”

  “It’s been ten, eleven years now, since they bought the business up here. The parents were originally from here and the kids used to visit their grandparents for summer holidays.” Williams nodded. “This is the room.”

  The nurse looked to be about Craig’s age, with dark hair neatly pinned back, large brown eyes and olive skin. She was just smoothing the sheets as they walked in. “Julie, we’re here to see Brandy Lockridge.”

  “Oh, sorry, Bob. You just missed them. They left about ten minutes ago.”

  “She was transferred to another room?”

  Julie smiled and shook her head. “Discharged. Darren took her home.”

  Hard lines settled in Williams’s face as his expression darkened. “Thanks, Julie,” he said curtly. Williams set a brisk pace back to his vehicle. Once there, he clipped his seat belt, put the keys in the ignition, then grabbed the steering wheel and froze.

  Craig fastened his own seat belt and waited for a moment before he asked, “Are we going to the house?”

  Williams shook his head. “I was testing a theory.” He started the engine.

  For a few moments, Craig observed the lights of the buildings, the festive decorations that repelled the darkness, as he turned everything over in his mind. “You said the boys spent summers up here as kids. And you doubted Brandy’s story enough to ask me to come to the hospital with you.” Craig turned and looked at Williams. “Why?”

  The Christmas decorations projected enough light to show the hard edges were still in place. Williams’s neck, shoulders, arms were rigid. Then the gaps between lights widened, and Craig looked outside.

  “This isn’t the way to the Lockridge home, and it isn’t the way to my motel
.”

  Williams pulled off on a dirt road. The vehicle lurched over bumps, and only the headlights broke the darkness.

  They came to a spot that was basically a wide bend in the dirt road, and Williams pulled over. One side was shadowed by trees, the other by the incline of the hill.

  Williams undid his seat belt, opened the door and climbed out before bending down to look at Craig. “You coming?”

  Then Williams shut the door and started walking. He was a silhouette in the beams of light from the car, which dispelled some of the darkness, and he stood with his back to the vehicle.

  Once Craig got out of the car he slowly unclipped his holster. He waited with his door open. “What are we doing here?”

  “Are you coming?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Craig shut the door and approached Williams, although he kept some distance and stayed behind him. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s not far.” Williams led the way through the brush, snow crunching under his steps.

  They stopped at a small clearing. It wasn’t far, but it was far enough that Craig could no longer hear the hum of the engine.

  For a few minutes Williams stood, head lowered, back to Craig, hands on his hips. Without moonlight the snow was the only relief from the shadow of trees blending into the night sky, so Craig couldn’t see Bob Williams’s face, but he sensed the tension from the man.

  When he’d first opened his room door to see Williams he’d had the impression of someone friendly but devious, someone who used the veneer of warmth and casual acceptance as a way to lure people into complacency. Another cop might have grilled that nurse. Instead, she offered up information to Williams with a smile.

  It bothered Craig that Williams knew who he was, where he was staying and what he was doing in Kelowna, and the only guess Craig had was that Brandy had told Williams herself.

  But why volunteer that information to a police officer when you’re claiming you fell down the stairs? If Brandy had told Williams about Craig’s visit—which was the only plausible explanation—then it was likely her husband had beaten her because she’d given Craig the locket.

  The news that Brandy Lockridge had been taken home by her husband had dramatically changed Williams’s mood and demeanor. He knew more than he’d told Craig. This wasn’t about playing a hunch, but Craig was still a pawn. The only thing he wasn’t sure about was whether he was on the same side as Williams.

  “You ever have a case you couldn’t let go of?”

  The words broke the silence unexpectedly, and Craig almost jumped. There was something in Williams’s tone, the controlled rage, that did more to put a chill down Craig’s spine than the coldness of the night.

  “Maybe you haven’t. Maybe you’re too young.”

  Craig thought back to earlier cases, to being partnered with Ashlyn when they’d first met, on her first plainclothes assignment. “There are things that keep me up at night.”

  Williams turned to face Craig, although he was barely more than a dark outline blending into the black. “When Donny Lockridge went to prison, I slept better.

  “It was twelve years ago. The day was hot, the kind of summer day where you can see the waves of heat rising off the ground. My children were pretty young then. Eric was six, and it was Ellie’s fourth birthday. We’d planned to have a party on the weekend, so we put out a sprinkler in the backyard in the morning, just for something special. I was working nights, and we were going to take the kids out for lunch. It’s hard to pin children that age down to put sunscreen on them.” He shook his head. “We kept on them, but it wasn’t enough. Ellie’s so fair, and when the burn showed it was bad. I remember she cried at the softest touch, and it was nearly impossible for my wife to rub aloe on her skin.”

  Silence. Williams was a statue, his thoughts concealed, face unreadable.

  “She was inconsolable. We couldn’t hug her, she couldn’t lie down on her back or side, and lunch was out of the question. Eric was frustrated, and he shoved Ellie. She put her hand out, as I expect anyone would do, and we heard the snap. It was…eerily quiet as she thudded on the ground. And then she screamed. And screamed. And despite the sunburn we could tell her face had gone white.”

  He paused again. Craig sensed Williams wasn’t expecting him to say anything, just that whatever Williams wanted to share was difficult, a door to more painful memories he’d prefer to keep locked away.

  “When you watch your child cry and realize there’s nothing, not a single thing, that you can do to stop their pain it’s like someone’s reached inside your chest with an ice-cold hand and squeezed your heart. Ellie screamed all the way to the hospital. Once they’d set her arm and put the cast on, we brought her home, and she was still crying. By then it was the silent tears. Of course, she’d just turned four. Ellie still needed an afternoon nap. She was overtired and miserable, and we couldn’t get her to sleep. I still remember telling my wife I could call in, stay home and help her out, but she said they’d be fine.”

  Williams turned away. “I wish to God I’d stayed home that day.” He lowered his head for a moment, then continued his story.

  “As cops we know people are capable of doing horrible things. But I never really knew it in the same way until I got the call. Kids in the bush. A girl was hurt. It’s not unusual for the kids to head out of town for parties, and I thought a group must have gone drinking, and one of them had fallen, had an accident.

  “She was right there.” He pointed at a spot on the other side of the clearing. “I was the first on the scene. I thought…”

  A tremor had crept into his voice. Craig heard Williams take a deep breath.

  “I thought for a second she’d been skinned alive. All I could see was the blood. I was reporting in, about to say she was dead, when I saw her eyes move as she looked at me. It wasn’t until then that I realized I knew who she was.”

  He raised his hand to his face. Then he took some controlled breaths and continued.

  “I have a brother who’s six years older than me. One of his friends had married pretty young. This was his daughter. My brother was Jessie Fenton’s godfather.

  “I knelt down and told her it was going to be okay. Help was on the way. I remember thinking that I needed to get the fear and the repulsion out of my eyes, you know? She took a breath…”

  Williams lowered his head, the words barely more than a whisper. “And it was her last.”

  For a while, Williams was quiet. Craig’s eyes had adjusted enough for him to see the rise and fall of Williams’s shoulders, and he let him have some time.

  When he was ready he turned back to Craig. “We knew she’d come out here with a group of friends. Darren and Donny Lockridge were staying with their grandparents, just down the street from where Jessie’s family lived. She’d invited them to come along. The other kids said they left early. Darren and Donny were drinking more than the others. They’d brought extra alcohol in their backpacks. That was one of the things that was odd. The kids all admitted they’d brought clothes for later, as well as food, because they were going to hang out until that night, but Darren had tried to start a fight. Jessie didn’t leave with her friends because she felt responsible for inviting Darren and Donny.

  “The last time they saw her, she was here, alone with them.”

  Williams was quiet again, and finally Craig asked, “What happened with the case?”

  A cold, hard, staccato laugh escaped from Williams. “Boys that young don’t kill. Don’t you know that? Oh, they swore she’d been fine when they left her. Why did they leave her alone? She insisted she wanted to spend some time in the woods by herself, so they walked back without her.

  “She’d been beaten. Every inch of her, to the point where the skin was ripped and torn and dangling in shreds. A few weeks later Darren and Donny went back home. It was to be expected. School was starting. By then we could only prove that there had been a few times other kids had seen them be mean or a bit aggressive, but nobody had ever
seen them beat a girl. Nothing close.

  “We knew they’d been with her, and Darren admitted right away they had sex. Smart. She was a virgin, according to her friends, so that made it harder to prove it was rape. And besides, her skin was so broken and torn from the beating it was impossible to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d been held down and forced. We never could find a conclusive murder weapon. The coroner said a branch, most likely. We turned these woods inside out, looking for any trace of blood, anything.

  “We knew they’d had a change of clothes with them, but it was all circumstantial. There wasn’t enough to make a case, and considering how young they were even if we did convict them they’d get nothing more than a slap on the wrist.”

  Williams shook his head. “That day, I went to tell Randy his daughter was dead. At first he cried. Then he put his fist through a wall and broke his hand. That’s the stuff that really gets you. It wasn’t just Jessie who died that day. It destroyed her whole family. A few weeks later, Jessie’s brother and sister came home to find their mom in the living room. She must have swallowed all the pills just after they went to school. Randy was killed in a drunk-driving accident not long after that.”

  Craig paused. “What happened to the kids?”

  “There was no family, so my brother took them.” Williams walked up to Craig. “I know you’re just doing your job, but when I read about that girl my hands shook. And when I heard Donny Lockridge was a suspect, I knew. I knew he’d done it, just like I knew Darren and Donny had killed Jessie.”

  Craig swallowed. “The reason I came here to see Brandy was that I thought she had something that could prove that Donny killed Hope.”

  Williams’s head snapped up. “Did she?”

  “I think so. A locket that matched the one missing from Hope’s body when she was murdered. Brandy said Darren gave it to her, and that it was a replica.”

  “But you think tests might prove otherwise.”

  Craig nodded.

  “The time he served, it isn’t enough.”

  Craig hadn’t needed to hear Williams’s story to know that. The photos of Hope Harrington’s body had been enough, and Williams’s story confirmed in his own mind that Donny Lockridge was guilty, but…