A Hummingbird Dance

by Garry Ryan

  Lane waited until Harper got back. “Republic of Alberta?”

  “Yep. The rCmP tracked down several pickups matching the vehicle description. Blake Rogers was a person of interest. His vehicle was suspicious, because he lives nearby. It looked like the truck had two new doors, but the rCmP couldn’t get anyone to talk. And they couldn’t find any damage to the vehicle, or blood, hair, or tissue evidence to connect the vehicle to Alex Starchild.”

  “So, who exactly is this Aidan Walker?” Lane talked louder as Kuldeep steamed coffee.

  “I met her while you were in the sweat lodge.” Harper looked out the window at Roz. “She’s some kind of artist or puppeteer.”

  “That’s all we know?” Lane asked.

  “So far.” Harper stared at his reflection in the window.

  Lane saw the far off look in his partner’s eyes. “Another flashback?”

  Harper turned back to Lane. “How did you know?”

  Aidan wore a short gold skirt made full with layers of underlying crinoline. Under the skirt, she wore black spandex pants and black running shoes. Her blue, tight-fitting jacket was pinstriped and accented with a white silk tie. Her blonde hair was combed back. As always, her marionette persona was dressed the same way.

  “It sucks.” Alex sat in a chair under the catwalk with his legs stretched out front.

  “You’re not going to complain about your costume again, are you?” Aidan, the marionette, stood over him.

  “Now that you mention it….” Alex stood up and smiled. “Actually, I was going to say it sucks that you don’t have a life.”

  “What do you mean?” Aidan crossed her arms.

  “I’m your only friend. A dead friend at that. And Eva is your family. The fact is, Eva’s getting old. Once she’s gone, there will only be me. Now, as much as I love being around you, a warm body would be a lot better for you. Just because your parents left you behind and moved to Australia for a stupid job doesn’t mean you can’t trust anyone but me and Eva.” Alex put a hand on Aidan’s shoulder.

  Aidan pushed the hand away. “I’m not ready for that. You never understood that. When your parents do that to you, it shows you what they really value.”

  “So, you moved in with me and Eva.” He leaned forward in his chair.

  “You’re family. More than my parents are. And, since you’re asking, I’m doing okay,” Aidan said.

  “Well you’d better start meeting other people. The way people have been disappearing around the old homestead, it looks like warm bodies will be at a premium. Now that a cop’s been shot, things could get even more dangerous.” Alex walked away from Aidan.

  “Things will cool down. They always do. What they did to you has to be settled. I made a promise to you and myself that the guys who killed you would end up facing what they did.” Aidan followed Alex off stage.

  Alex said, “But what happens to you and your life? You like to start fires, get people going. What’s that say about you?”

  “That I’ve waited long enough for the police to do their jobs, and now I’m doing what I can to settle this thing.”

  “What if it gets worse? You know as well as I that people are talking about barricading the highway. Some hotheads want to stop the city from getting any closer,” Alex said.

  “What are they fighting about?” Arthur leaned on an elbow to look at the bedside clock.

  Lane opened his eyes. “What time is it?”

  “One AM.” Arthur heaved himself out of bed.

  Lane rolled over, saw light along the bottom of the door and thought, The hallway light is on. He recalled a three dimensional dream, compliments of the pain-killer he’d taken before bed. It had something to do with falling off a bridge into fast-moving water the colour of eye shadow.

  “She’s sleeping with me!” Christine said.

  “Stay out of here you bitch! Roz is sleeping in my room!” Matt said.

  “That’s no way to talk to me!” Christine pounded on Matt’s door, then ran upstairs with Matt close behind.

  Lane thought, I wonder when she’ll learn how to swear? If she doesn’t, it’s going to start costing a fortune in doors.

  Arthur opened the door. “What’s going on, you two?”

  Lane saw the forest of hair on Arthur’s back and backside. He was framed in the door and illuminated by the hallway light.

  Christine screamed and ran into her bedroom. Matt looked at Roz and then back at Arthur.

  Matt’s eyes lit up. “It’s Uncle Wrinkly!”

  Arthur stepped back inside and closed the door.

  In the darkness, Lane heard an exasperated Arthur say, “I handled that very well, don’t you think?”

  “At least you stopped the fight,” Lane said.

  Water Fever

  SUNDAY, JULY 7

  Local grocery stores and fresh water suppliers are scrambling to meet the demand for drinking water. Three major grocery chains have sold out of all brands of bottled water.

  A spokesperson for Safeway explained, “We have been unable to keep up with the demand for our bottled waters. At present, we are nearly sold out of soft drinks.”

  One shopper explained, “When I found out about the body in the reservoir and those two missing fellows, I didn’t want to risk drinking from the tap.”

  chapter 10

  The Chev’s tires rumbled over the country road. Gravel ricocheted against the underside of the car. Lane’s stomach lurched as they crested a hill and experienced momentary weightlessness.

  “So what did you think of the medical examiner’s report on Lombardi’s cause of death?” Harper drove.

  And he can’t stop talking, Lane thought, He must be as scared as I am. “What did you think?” Lane thought, If he needs to talk, then let him talk. Lane tried shifting his weight to find a more comfortable position. The pain will happen. It’s the expectation of pain, that’s the killer.

  “I think he’s right about the two blows that killed Lombardi. It makes sense. One to the back between the shoulder blades. The next to the back of the head. That’s the one that finished him. Just like you said it would. Dead long before he hit the river. No evidence of drowning. Oh, and Erinn told me to say thanks for dinner. She likes Christine. Erinn figures things will eventually settle down between Christine and Matt. Says she thinks the girl’s all mixed up because of the cult thing. It’s a cult, isn’t it?”

  “That’s a good question.” What religion isn’t? Lane thought. He looked right, to the mountains. The morning light appeared to bring the peaks closer. He longed to drive a long mountain valley highway with nothing to think about except whether he’d see a bear or a wolf.

  “How come you’re back to work today? I mean, you should have taken a couple of weeks off.”

  Lane thought for a minute while he leaned his right cheek off the seat. The car hit a valley in the road. He wanted to say, “If I don’t do this now, I might never go back.” Out loud, he said, “Just doing what you suggested!” He thought, Why are you taking it out on Harper? “You ready for this?”

  “Nope. And Erinn wanted to apologize for putting in her two cents about the dog’s name. She felt like she might have upset Matt.”

  “It’s okay.” Now Lane understood why Matt was so angry the other night. Christine liked the name Roz but none of the ones Matt suggested. Every single decision becomes so damned complicated, he thought.

  “We’re here.” Harper allowed the Chev to coast and decelerate. “We’re still going to the rodeo, aren’t we?”

  “It’ll be fun.” As they turned into Eva’s driveway, Lane studied the surrounding terrain for anything that looked out of place.

  Harper watched ahead and to the left.

  Lane’s eyes scanned the right. His hand moved closer to his Glock.

  They parked beyond the blackened patch of driveway where their other car had burned. Lane stepped out of the Chev before the engine quit. As his eyes scanned the perimeter, he couldn’t escape the feeling that his back was un
protected.

  Eva stepped out from behind a hedge.

  The engine stopped. Harper climbed out of the car.

  Lane felt the cool, morning mountain air. He saw that Harper was sweating, his eyes never stopping on one thing for more than a fraction of a second. Harper’s hand was close to his pistol.

  Eva wore a white hand-knit sweater over a dress with a pattern of spring flowers on a blue background. She moved toward Harper. “Come inside. Coffee’s on. Muffins in the oven.” They followed her along the sidewalk leading to the back door. Inside, as they took their shoes off, Eva said, “Don’t wanna hear no jokes about smoke signals.”

  “What?” Lane waited for Eva to go up the stairs.

  Eva turned to him. She smelled of sage from this morning’s smudge. “Hearin’ lots of jokes about me sending up smoke signals the other day. People talkin’, callin’ and tellin’ me to use the phone like everybody else.”

  “Oh.” Harper covered his mouth with his hand to hide a smile.

  They followed Eva upstairs and sat at the kitchen table. Eva brought coffee and muffins. They sat on three sides of the table, with the sound of spoons clinking against the sides of coffee cups.

  “This real cream?” Harper asked.

  Eva nodded.

  They waited for at least five minutes while Harper ate muffins, Lane tried unsuccessfully to get comfortable, and Eva watched them through the steam from her coffee.

  “You okay?” Eva looked through the fog at Lane.

  “Better.” Lane looked back at Eva and tried to smile.

  “You?” Eva looked at Harper.

  “Okay.” Harper spoke out of the side of a mouth filled with muffin.

  “Got kids?” Eva looked at Harper first.

  “A baby and a nephew. Jessica’s four months old and Glenn is eighteen.”

  “You?” Eva looked at Lane.

  “Ahhh,” Lane said.

  “He’s got a nephew, Matt, who’s sixteen and a niece, Christine. She’s seventeen. They arrived on his doorstep with their clothes and little else,” Harper said.

  “Throwaway kids?” Eva put her coffee down.

  “What?” Lane asked.

  “Kids get kicked out of home. They gotta be somewhere.” Eva waited for one of them to reply.

  Lane thought, I don’t know where this is going. She’ll know if I’m hiding. And I’m getting tired of hiding or maybe just tired from lack of sleep. “Matt is my part-ner’s nephew. Matt’s mom died of cancer. His dad started a new family. Matt has CP and his dad wants a perfect son. Now he’s got one and we’ve got Matt. My niece is running from Paradise. Have you heard of it?”

  Eva nodded. “You’re gay?”

  Lane nodded. He waited for comment, half expecting recrimination, judgement, or rejection from Eva, but sensing instead a simple acceptance of the facts of his life.

  “You?” Eva looked at Harper.

  “My nephew, Glenn, was kicked out of his house and came to live with us.” Harper looked back at Eva with curiousity. “Jessica’s our first child, or second depending on how you look at it.”

  He’s wondering where this conversation will end up, Lane thought. And so am I.

  Eva looked out the window when she spoke. “Alex was my daughter’s son. She’s thirty-five now. Last time I heard from her, she was in the States. Alex was with me for fourteen years.” Eva looked at Lane. “Alex was gay too.” She looked down at her coffee. “Aidan’s gonna stay here after I’m gone. Maybe someday my daughter’ll decide to come home. That way, there’ll be a place for her. Been a long time since I saw my daughter. So much is different now.

  “When I was young, we used to walk along the road into the city. We could always get a lift. Had to keep our eyes open, though. Sometimes drivers would open their doors and try to knock us over. Thought those days were over. Didn’t teach Alex to keep his eyes open.

  “Imagine losing a child like that.” Eva took a sip of coffee. “After Alex died, Aidan stayed. Now it feels like she’s my family. Her parents moved to Australia. Aidan needed a place to stay. Likes it here. Told me she feels accepted. She still talks with Alex. Thinks I don’t know, but I do. It’s like she can’t let go of him, or he can’t let go of her. They were so close and then somebody opened his truck door. That’s why these shootings are happening. Times haven’t changed that much. People have no right to run down children like that. If it was your child, would you ever forget?” Eva looked at each of them in turn. “Don’t know who took those boys away from Blake’s place. Don’t know why that one boy was in the river. Don’t know who shot at Blake. Just know that it’s because of what happened to Alex. And, there’s a lot of people around here fed up with the whole mess. There’s even talk of a barricade.”

  Footsteps climbed up the stairs to the back door. It opened. “Eva? It’s me.”

  Lane and Harper stood.

  Eva smiled at the detectives. “Don’t worry.”

  “You okay, Eva? They takin’ you to jail?” Norm asked.

  “Nope.” Eva stood and went to the stairs. “Coffee?”

  “Okay.” Norm topped the stairs dressed in a green work shirt, pants, and a yellow ball cap. He looked at Harper. “Hi.”

  Harper got up and shook hands with Norm. “How are you?”

  “Fine.” Norm kept his eyes away from Lane. “Came to help get the teepee ready for Stampede.”

  “Sit down,” Eva said.

  Norm sat at the table and Eva brought him a cup of coffee. She topped up the other three cups as well.

  Harper said, “This is Detective Lane.”

  “Hello.” Lane held out his hand.

  “Gonna put the cuffs on me?” Norm kept his hands under the table.

  “No,” Eva said. “We’re talkin’ is all.”

  Norm nodded. “See the news today?”

  Lane and Harper looked at one another.

  Eva said, “What happened?”

  “All those city people buyin’ up bottled water. They think there’s bodies in the reservoir. Stores are sold out of the stuff.” Norm smiled at the idea. “City people are always worryin’ about the wrong things.”

  “People are scared,” Eva said.

  Norm added three teaspoons of sugar and filled the cup to the brim with cream. He slid the cup nearer to the edge of the table, leaned over and slurped. He raised his head. “Good coffee.” He looked around the table with mischief in his eyes. “Water from the reservoir?”

  Eva laughed. “Nope.”

  Norm looked at Lane. “You the party that was shot a couple of days ago?”

  “That’s right,” Lane said. “Eva had nothin’ to do with it.” Norm picked up his coffee and drank with his eyes on Lane.

  “I didn’t think she was involved.” Lane looked at Eva, who watched Norm.

  “How do you know?” Harper asked Norm. “Keep my ear close to the ground. See what’s going on, you know.” Norm reached for a muffin.

  “Who did the shooting?” Lane asked.

  “The one at the Rogers’ place?” Norm picked up a muffin and broke it in two with callused fingers.

  “The one here.” Harper studied Norm’s face.

  “Not sayin’.” Norm stuck the muffin in his mouth.

  “How come?” Lane asked.

  Norm shrugged and mimed pulling a zipper across his lips.

  Lane thought, I’d better change my approach and quickly. “At the Rogers’ place?”

  “Bet Blake did it his self.” Norm spit bits of muffin as he spoke.

  “How?” Lane kept an even tone of voice and spoke just above a whisper.

  “Doesn’t know one end of a gun from the other.” Norm washed the muffin down with half a cup of coffee. He looked at Eva. “Gotta get the teepee up and checked out. Stampede’s almost here.”

  Eva looked at the detectives. “We live at the village during Stampede. It’s like a holiday.”

  “Indian village?” Harper asked.

  Eva looked directly at him. “Firs
t Nations!”

  “What did I do wrong? She just clammed up.” Harper drove west from Eva’s.

  “Not sure. Whatever it was, it made a promising conversation stop dead in its tracks.” Lane thought, Maybe that was what she wanted.

  “Sorry.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t mad.”

  “What do you mean?” Harper glanced at Lane.

  “Maybe she didn’t like the direction the conversation was going, so she pretended to be offended.”

  “How do you know?” Harper slowed to turn left.

  “Something she said in between rounds at the sweat lodge. ‘The words aren’t as important as what’s in your heart when you say them.’ Maybe she was trying to protect Norm.”

  “Why would she need to do that?” Harper asked as they neared Blake’s acreage.

  “That’s another question we’ll need to find an answer to. But first, we have to ask Blake a few questions.”

  Harper parked near the black pickup truck. Again, they took a good look around before Harper turned the engine off. Blake opened the front door when Lane knocked.

  “You find out who shot up my house?” Blake held a long-necked beer bottle in his right hand.

  “Perhaps.” Lane looked directly at Blake. “That’s good news.” Blake took a pull on the beer but didn’t invite them in. With his free hand, he gently touched his gelled hair to ensure it was perfect.

  “The evidence suggests that someone was doing target practice at the back of your house. The shattered glass near the hay bails, the stance of the shooter, and the rising pattern of the bullet holes along the house all indicate this. Someone unfamiliar with the recoil of an AK-47 would find that the weapon tends to run away if the shooter isn’t prepared for it.” Lane paused and waited for a reaction from Blake.

  Blake smiled. He hooked his free thumb behind his belt buckle.

  Harper said, “Also, when houses are shot at, shooters often aim for windows, not for siding and the roof.”

  Blake’s smile faded. “So what are you sayin’?”

  Harper and Lane waited.

  “You’re sayin’ I shot up my own place?” Blake looked over his shoulder as if measuring the distance to something hidden inside.