“Hell, no. Not with Phyl — that’s my kids’ stepmother, the ‘lady of the manor.’ I was at the West Bragg ski trails. We planned to do the first grooming of the season, try out our new machine. But we barely got started before the blizzard warning got upgraded. It would only have to be done again after the new snow, so we quit. I headed into Calgary barely ahead of the storm.”
Bragg Creek to Black Rock was an hour’s drive. Arliss could have been warned by her son as he was leaving the chalet, and headed straight there to intercept Eric. “How did you know Eric was going to the chalet that day?”
“I didn’t. TJ came for lunch the next day, on his way back to university. He went next door to say hi and found out Eric hadn’t come home. The main search had to wait for that road to be plowed. I don’t know if you’ve been out there, but it’s forty-odd kilometres past Waiparous and drifts over something crazy. A few people were snowed in at cabins along the road, and they had to send a chopper in to check on them. They didn’t see any sign of life at JP’s and figured Eric must have turned back.”
“Did you know why Eric was going out there?”
“To talk to JP outside the office, as I understand it. He’d run afoul of his supervisor at work and maybe was worried about his internship. I could have told him he had nothing to fear. JP swore to me he wouldn’t cut it short on Marcia’s word.”
So far, the woman had an answer for everything. “Eric’s family members never mentioned anything more specific?”
“Nope. By the time I got there, everyone was frantic. It only got worse the longer he was missing.” Arliss sighed. “I’ve been doing backcountry safety training for thirty years. I would have sworn Eric knew not to leave his vehicle. And why didn’t he break into the chalet? He must have known JP wouldn’t hold it against him, no matter what Phyl might say. It doesn’t make sense.”
So, she didn’t know the RCMP investigation had moved on to suspected homicide. Or she was pretending she didn’t know. Lacey scribbled a note to that effect. Now, time to change tactics. “There’s a related matter I’d like to clear up. Zoe might have mentioned the nurse who went missing in the Boxing Day blizzard?”
“Oh, right. The one whose body you found yesterday? How horrid for you.”
“Yes, well, that nurse came from Ontario. She used to work at the nursing home where your mother-in-law lived. I understand you chatted with her before Christmas.” Now, more than ever, Lacey wished this was a face-to-face interview. Would Arliss admit to two meetings, or only the one at which Loreena had been present?
“Oh, my god. That was Sandy?” Arliss’s voice rose. “I’ve been waiting for her to phone me back ever since.”
A bubble of glee warmed Lacey’s ribs. If Arliss’s phone number turned up in Sandy’s records, proving they’d been in contact after Sandy left Bragg Creek, she’d be nailed in a flat-out lie. One falsehood would fray the edges of more until the whole fabric unravelled. “Where did you see her?”
“In Bragg Creek, before Christmas. I ran into her at that coffee shop. Didn’t recognize her right away. You know how it is when you see someone in a completely different context from where you know them. Out of uniform, too. And I hadn’t been to that nursing home in five years or more, so I wasn’t even sure it was her, at first. When she told me about my mother-in-law’s death, I was incensed. I went home frothing at the mouth.”
This was a new twist. “You didn’t know your mother-in-law was dead?”
“No, no, of course I knew that. But I didn’t know why.” Arliss’s breathing whistled in Lacey’s ear. “Sandy told me my ex-mother-in-law had been denied her flu shot not two months earlier. Old Fran was strong as a horse. She could have been living happily still, crooning along to Bing and Frank and calling everyone sweetie because she had no idea what their names were. I asked Sandy who had cancelled the shot so I could give them what for, but she didn’t know. She was going to phone her friend back east and find out. I gave her my number and waited to hear, but she never called me back.”
If Arliss hadn’t cancelled the flu shot herself, that severely limited her possible motive for silencing Sandy. In fact, it left only covering up computer hacking done by one of her kids. That was no stronger a motive for murder now than it had been earlier. Lacey gave her head a shake and regrouped. So far she had only Arliss’s word on this; it wasn’t even backed up by body language she could observe.
“And that’s the only time you spoke to her?”
“Yes,” said Arliss, without even a hint of hesitation.
“You worked the Backcountry booth at the Cochrane Christmas market? She was there at least once.”
“I did a few shifts, but I don’t remember seeing her there.”
Without confirmation from Eddie that it was Arliss he’d seen with Sandy, Lacey couldn’t push harder, so she backtracked. “The day you spoke to her at the coffee shop, she didn’t mention knowing anyone else around this area, did she? Someone she might have been in contact with?”
“Not that I recall. But, as I said, I was quite angry about JP’s mother.”
“You weren’t consulted about the flu shot? Were you not married to JP when his mother died?”
“Divorced. He was already married to his second wife.” Arliss was silent for a long moment. “You know, I bet it was Phyl. JP would never have agreed to move to England while his mother was alive.”
“You haven’t told JP yet?”
“No point. He’s already in London, and anyway, it’s in the past for him. He doesn’t do the past. The only times I’ve spoken to him recently, he’s been hell-bent on avoiding a lawsuit from Eric’s parents.” Indignation throbbed in Arliss’s voice. “He’s not thinking like a parent at all. Casting blame hasn’t even crossed their minds. They’re swamped by grief and shock, falling apart at the seams. Although, between you and me, there wasn’t much family cohesion before this happened. That’s why I’m so happy Clemmie’s out of there for a few days. She’s a different kid up here with Zoe’s girl.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Now what? Arliss wasn’t the least bit defensive. Far from watching her every word, she was veering off confidently on tangents as they occurred to her. She’d make a good impression in a jury box, whether as a witness or a suspect.
Arliss said, half to herself, “I bet TJ could request information on his grandmother’s flu shot. He’s of age now, and one of her heirs.”
“Did she leave much?”
“Some investments in trust for her grandkids. The main financial benefit of her death is that JP’s not paying fifty grand a year for her care anymore. In the early years, we had to scratch for it, but now that’s pocket change for him. He spent more on Christmas in London. Nice for him. TJ’s paying for my New Year’s, otherwise I’d be home alone with a box of wine from Superstore. Anything else you need, Lacey?”
“Before you go, can you tell me where you and TJ were on Boxing Day? Just for my records.”
“I was with my neighbour, Leslie, trying to get her organized for Eric’s funeral. TJ was in London, hunting for a plane ticket home. Two hours later and he’d have missed the service.”
Lacey thanked her and signed off. Then she opened Calvin’s email, copied from his table the line of data about the nursing home malware incident, and hit Reply. She asked him to dig up everything he could on that entry, including the real name of the hacker, if possible. Then, conscious of the fact that she was asking him to do something not quite legal, she added:
Please find out what flight from England TJ Thompson arrived on — December 25, 26, or 27.
She sent the message, then looked again at the report for Bull. That gaping hole in the middle of Arliss’s motive had to be filled in before she could send it. Presumably, Pat had been the person Sandy intended to ask about that flu shot. Calling her on a family holiday probably wasn’t a great idea, especially as she may not yet have been told about Sandy’s death. Stymied, Lacey headed for the coffee pot.
&nbs
p; Dee was setting up her mother’s tray. “Can you take this up?” she asked.
Lacey nodded. “Just going to check in with Bull first.” She poured while the call was connecting. Bull might be off shift, but he would be keeping tabs on the investigation. They were still within that crucial first twenty-four hours after finding the body, which meant constables would be going door to door near both crime scenes — where the car was found and where the body was found. Who knew where a witness might turn up who could place Sandy with her killer?
“Happy New Year,” she said when Bull picked up. “Sorry to bother you at home, but —”
“Yeah, you want an update. Not much to tell. Pretty clear case of blunt force trauma, but the autopsy has to wait. The ME’s backlogged.” He didn’t need to elucidate. The season of brotherly love invariably yielded more suspicious deaths than there was staff to process. “Your keys weren’t found with the body. They might be anywhere between the Civic and the bridge.”
“You don’t seriously think she walked all that way during the night, through knee-deep snow, carefully clutching her little yellow purse but somehow losing the keys, only to run into someone who conked her on the head?”
“Unlikely, of course, but we have no evidence to the contrary. Residents of a house above the bridge reported being woken by someone cutting through their yard around three a.m. Their property is posted and their dogs usually roam, but due to the heavy snowfall, they were kennelled. Any tracks were buried by the second wave of snow. SAR thinks the victim was under the bridge before the first wave, due to snow cover technicalities and lack of predation. Anything identifiable on your key chain that would help the searchers?”
“A Vancouver Canucks bottle opener and a Honda tag.” Lacey pictured her keys arching across the kitchen and landing on the counter, Sandy scooping them up and heading off with nothing more on her mind than having a wonderful Christmas with her grandchildren and paying off her son’s mortgage. “That reminds me, can I tell Sandy’s friend in Ontario that she’s been found? I have to call her about something else, and it would be weird not to mention it.”
With permission obtained, she added the house phone to Loreena’s breakfast tray and took it upstairs. It would soften the blow on Pat if she could hand the phone off to Loreena.
Nobody answered at Pat’s daughter’s house. Lacey left a message to call her back, then left the same message on Pat’s home answering machine. She left the phone with Loreena, who promised to ask about old Mrs. Thompson’s flu shot first thing when Pat returned the call.
“If she hasn’t heard from Dennis yet, you can tell her Sandy’s been found, and that she’s not coming home. But nothing about how she was killed, okay?”
“What are you up to this morning?” Dee asked when she came downstairs.
“Looking for Arliss’s cell number in yours and Sandy’s call lists. If she did have contact with Sandy and I can catch her in a provable lie, it means I’m on the right track.”
“And if she didn’t?”
Lacey spread her hands wide, mutely admitting that she’d have no idea where to go next.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Groping on the nightstand for her phone, Zoe knocked over the wineglass. It landed softly on the carpet, spilling its few drops of flattened bubbly. The text was from JP: Happy New Year. Don’t contact me today unless the building is on fire.
“Happy New Year to you, too.” She snuggled under the duvet, hoping to be lulled back into blissful unconsciousness. Before she achieved that state, though, the bed dipped as Toomie landed on it with all the grace of a baby hippopotamus. He stomped up her body from hip to shoulder. His whiskers tickled her cheek before he announced in his half-Persian, half-banshee wail that he was starving. She cupped a hand over her ear. Why hadn’t she shut the bedroom door? He’d have stayed asleep in Lizi’s room until she went downstairs.
He wailed again, like a teething baby.
“Oh, shut up! I’m coming.”
By the time she’d pushed him off her and rolled out of bed, her brain was awake, clearing away the fractured images of last night’s sci-fi TV binge. Today she’d finish that malware report, and tomorrow she’d have the whole day to deal with Eric’s ghost before her family returned. Jumping from mom to ghostbuster to wife to file wrangler and back again at random had left her frazzled. Two of those roles must go, and soon.
She was getting dressed when her phone rang. “Happy New Year.”
“And to you.” Lacey sounded tired, but determined. “How are you doing after the stress of yesterday? How did you sleep?”
“Not too bad. I numbed my brain binge-watching TV. What about you? Any nightmares?”
“No. I was too worn out.” Lacey sighed. “I really want to clear up Eric’s death, and Sandy’s, and start the year off without the shadow of …”
“Of what?”
“Death, I guess.” Lacey’s voice sounded neutral, but her vibe was distinctly uneasy. Was she being haunted by the ghost of the nurse? Wouldn’t that be a strange twist of fate? Unlikely, but strange things happened when a person touched the body of someone they’d known in life.
To test that theory, Zoe said, “I’m hoping to get clear of Eric’s ghost in the next twenty-four hours. Having another person inside your head interrupting and distracting you whenever you try to concentrate is exhausting. Are you any closer to figuring out how he ended up locked in that shed?” The vibe this time was harder to pin down. Secrecy mixed with … what? Sorrow?
“I hope that for you, too,” Lacey said, not answering the question. “What are your plans for New Year’s Day?”
“Going into the office. If I can work back to exactly when the malware first infected the cheque printer, it’ll narrow down who might have planted it.”
“I’m working on that from my end, too. Swap our findings this afternoon?”
“Sure.”
“You haven’t told anyone what you’re working on, have you? About the malware, I mean.”
“Only JP.” I nearly asked Arliss about it, but the voice in my head said no. “With the company sale looming, we can’t let rumours get started before we know the extent of the damage.”
“Be sure to keep it that way. Somebody could seize the chance to cover their tracks.”
Trust nobody. With a shiver, Zoe passed on her greetings to Dee and hung up to finish getting dressed. Downstairs, Toomie sat beside his half-empty kibble bowl and yowled at her.
“You’re fat enough,” she told him. “But since I don’t know when I’ll be back, you can have another half cup. Don’t tell Lizi.” After he’d eaten, Toomie head-butted her calf and followed her to the front hall. He leaped up to the table with much more grace than when he’d landed on her bed, and promptly sat down on the sweater she’d tossed there the previous evening. She tugged it out from under him. “Get off that. Eric’s spaceship is in there.”
Eric arrived in her head so suddenly she staggered. When she recovered her balance, she put her hand in the pocket and pulled out Galactica. “It’s safe, okay?” she told the empty hallway. “I’m taking it with me.”
Pulling her arms through the sleeves, she tucked the plastic model back into the pocket and dragged her ski jacket over it all. January first, alone in the office with a ghost and a plastic spaceship. That had better not be an omen for the year ahead. “Happy New Year,” she told Toomie, then locked the door behind her.
Three hours later, she closed another invoice file and stretched her arms behind her head. Twenty months back, the creepy little malware script had printed out five cheques to the unknown hacker in one month alone. In oil company terms, a thousand or fifteen hundred a month wasn’t much more than petty cash, although if the fraud had continued into this past November, it could have hit a couple of significant drilling contracts and doubled the year’s take. It had stopped in mid-October, one payment period before Eric died.
She stacked up the current batch of file boxes and headed for the elevator. She’d
previously felt creeped out in the basement archives of this building. Now that she understood she had been sensing Eric, being alone down there wasn’t as scary. She slid the boxes onto their shelf, collected another six months’ worth, and pushed the elevator button with her elbow.
As the elevator carried her back up, she thought about Marcia, who had been working Accounts Payable for more than three years and had apparently never questioned the invoices that crossed her desk for authorization. Arliss had often declared the woman unqualified for the job, and this proved it. JP could probably sue Marcia for negligence, but of course he wouldn’t. Phyl’s friendship, such as it was, would keep Marcia safe from the consequences of her ineptitude.
Zoe stepped out on the TFB floor and all but fell over Marcia, who was kneeling on the floor stuffing things into her handbag. The accountant reared up in surprise. Her massive key ring sailed from her hand to chink against the frosted-glass doors of the conference room. Propping the file boxes on a magazine stand, Zoe hurried to retrieve it. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here today.” She passed back the heavy key ring, carefully detaching her pinky finger from the bottle opener. “Oh, are you a Canucks fan? Have you been to see them playing the Flames?”
Marcia shoved the keys into the pocket of her parka. “No. What are you doing here today?”
No no no no no, trust nobody.
A reflexive chill ran up Zoe’s spine. “Still tracking down old accounts that we might have to explain to a buyer’s auditor. I’ll be glad when it’s over. What brings you in?”
“Finishing up year-end while it’s quiet.” Marcia got to her feet. “Anybody else around? Drilling still watching their wells?”
“Nope.” Zoe reached for the file boxes. “I guess we’re the only ones without a life. Happy New Year, Marcia.”
“Yeah, same to you.” Marcia’s small brown eyes slid up the stack and examined Zoe’s face. “You look like you’ve been at it a while. I’m going on a coffee run. Want me to bring you back a latte or something?”
Where the Ice Falls Page 27