The Deep End

by Debra Purdy Kong

  “Rough night, huh?” Casey said.

  She took a drag on the cigarette. “It is.”

  “Did you hear that two residents, Justin and Tanya, went missing?”

  Phyllis gave a small nod. “Bad seeds every which way.”

  “You didn’t, by any chance, see them sneak off the grounds?”

  “Just came on break a minute ago.” She tapped the cigarette. “When I was seventeen, I ran off to marry Frank. Some thought we were daft, but I had to get away. My dad . . . Violent bugger, he was. But that’s all in the past. Deep waters under a low bridge.” She paused. “Sometimes waters rise. Still, you can’t go back. Some things can’t be undone.”

  “I guess not.” That’s what worried her about Justin.

  “A storm’s brewing.” Phyllis gazed at the starless sky. “Inside and out.”

  Casey hugged herself and glanced at the officers. “What do you mean by inside?”

  “Nothing goes together. People aren’t where they should be, doing what they shouldn’t. It’s all pineapple upside down.” She crushed the cigarette with her boot and headed for the entrance.

  EIGHT

  “HONESTLY, CASEY, I DIDN’T KNOW what to do or say.”

  Casey shivered in the damp, chilly air as she stood at the bus stop and waited for the shoplifters to emerge from GenMart. When she called Amy last night, Amy said the police had already been in touch. Now Amy was telling her that Justin had called this morning. The kid refused to turn himself in because “bad things” were happening in Fraserview, although he wouldn’t elaborate. He’d also begged his grandmother for food and cash.

  “What do you think he meant by bad things?” Amy asked.

  “Good question.” Casey paused. “About the time Justin and Tanya escaped, Fraserview’s director, Mac Jorgenson, had a heart attack and died. It could be that.”

  “How awful, although I got the impression there was more than one issue. The director’s death could have put Justin over the edge.”

  “Possibly.” Fraserview seemed to have ongoing turmoil. “Does Justin want you to meet him?”

  “Yes. Hold on a minute, will you?” Amy said. “I need a tissue.”

  “I’m on assignment right now, so if the line goes dead, don’t panic. It means I’m on the move.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Should I hang up?”

  “No, the M5 isn’t due for five minutes. But if it or the suspects show up early, I’ll have to go.”

  “Be right back.”

  A gust of wind nearly pulled Casey’s umbrella from her hand. It was the last Saturday of January, and, as usual, rain was coming down, sometimes light, other times heavy. She looked behind her. GenMart’s entrance was just a few yards down. Kendal had called the moment she’d spotted the shoplifters in the store. Too rushed to leave Lou a note, Casey had asked Summer to let him know that she was on the GenMart assignment and didn’t know when she’d be back. Summer had barely looked up from the pizza she and Devon were making.

  Now that Casey was freezing her butt off, she wished she’d taken a minute to add an extra layer of clothing. The M5 ran only once every half hour. She hoped the boys planned to be on the next one.

  “I’m back,” Amy said. “Listen, there’s something else you should know.”

  “Okay.” Casey again glanced at GenMart’s entrance. Still no sign of the boys.

  “Brady died from his injuries yesterday.” Another pause. “I can’t help wondering if Justin found out. As much as he disliked the boy, Justin wouldn’t have wanted Brady to die. He must be terrified that he’ll be charged with murder.”

  “Maybe.” If Justin had heard, then he’d probably told Tanya—unless it was the other way around. Was this what she’d needed to tell him so urgently last night? Either way, their legal trouble had become a whole lot worse. Casey wouldn’t be surprised if escaping was Tanya’s idea.

  “I have a huge favor to ask, and I’ll understand if you decline,” Amy said, “but I’d like you to come with me to meet Justin. With any luck, the two of us can talk some sense into my grandson.”

  Not a great plan. “I can’t, Amy. The police are aware that I know Justin. If I’m in contact with him, I’ll be expected to notify them, or risk losing my security license.”

  “I know. It’s the reason I’d like you there. If Justin won’t accompany me to the nearest police station, I’ll need you to call them.” Amy’s voice cracked. “I’m not sure I would have the courage to do it.”

  “Oh, Amy.”

  “I asked my son, but Anthony doesn’t want to turn Justin in.”

  Casey shifted her feet to keep warm. She glanced at the growing number of people waiting to board the bus. There was still no sign of the shoplifters. “Where are you to meet him?”

  “He’ll phone this afternoon with the details.”

  “Let me know when he does, and we’ll figure this out.”

  Amy choked back a sob. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

  So, what were these bad things happening in Fraserview? Was Justin referring to everyday dramas, Mac’s heart attack, or something else? How had he and Tanya escaped in the first place, or had staff made it easy for them? After all, Mia had been helping Mac, and Kendal was too busy dealing with distraught girls to notice Tanya’s disappearance. The girl had probably been hovering by the unit’s entrance again and seized the chance to bolt.

  And what was up with Winson? Justin had been sitting at the table by the door when Winson returned to the unit. Granted, she hadn’t seen Justin when she left the unit a couple of minutes later. Had he already snuck out by then, or had he taken off after Winson left the unit again? When had Winson left, and why? Had he been searching for Justin? He hadn’t called a code green then, so he couldn’t have been alarmed. Casey recalled that Winson had been coming from Amir’s area of the building when he approached her and Kendal in the corridor. What the hell had Winson been doing down there?

  The blond kid Casey had seen on the camera footage the other day emerged from GenMart. He walked up to the curb and, with his back to her, peered down the street. Casey spotted the M5 easing up to the red light a block from the bus stop. The boy was speaking on the phone. He turned and looked at the people waiting to board. Casey tilted her umbrella down to shield her face.

  Two more boys joined him. Casey recognized the stocky boy and his freckled cohort from the camera footage. While the boys merged with the other passengers, Casey stepped back so she’d be last on board.

  As she entered the bus, the driver, Ingrid, gave her a curt nod. Nothing was said. Nothing was supposed to be said. Ingrid had little respect for security personnel anyway and was probably annoyed to have one on board. The M5 was nearly full. The shoplifters grabbed the seats along the back of the bus. Casey took her time heading down the aisle. Her phone rang and she stopped near the center exit.

  “The boys are gone, but I didn’t see them take anything,” Kendal said. “Are they on the bus?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t give you a heads up. I was sidetracked.”

  “No worries.”

  “You didn’t call last night,” Kendal said.

  “I was exhausted. Sorry.” This wasn’t the time to talk about it. “We’ll catch up after I’m done here.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Every seat was taken, which gave her a good excuse to stand and steal glimpses of the boys. As Casey edged past two other standees, she spotted the boys focusing on what looked like a Smartphone in Stocky’s hand.

  The bus rumbled through the heavy Saturday afternoon traffic. At the Main and Broadway stop, the boys made their way off the bus by the center exit. Casey stepped down after them. Blondie and Freckles headed west on Broadway. Stocky walked north on Main Street. Since he carried the Smartphone, Casey tailed him. For the moment, it had stopped raining, so raising the umbrella to shield her face wouldn’t work.

  Stocky’s pigeon-toed gait maintained a leisurely pace, as if he
had all the time in the world. He removed something from his pocket and stopped. Seconds later, he tossed a pink item into a garbage receptacle. The kid glanced over his shoulder. Casey lowered her head and retrieved a stick of gum from her purse. Reaching into the receptacle, she swapped the gum wrapper for the pink item: a worn change purse with a Hello Kitty logo. Had those little creeps actually ripped off a child? Pocketing the purse, she realized she’d lost sight of Stocky and marched faster.

  Based on Stan’s parameters, she could cover a couple more blocks. Casey turned the corner onto Eighth Avenue but didn’t see the boy. Damn. He couldn’t have reached Quebec Street already and turned off, could he? She walked down the sidewalk, studying the old office building across the street and the newer complex beside it. Like much of Vancouver, this section was an eclectic mix of old and new buildings, both commercial and residential. The street wasn’t wide, and Stocky could have entered one of several doorways. Adopting a leisurely pace, she walked past a couple of businesses.

  She was midway down the block when she spotted Stocky in a donair shop, leaning against the counter and talking to a man with the same olive skin tone. The man appeared to be handling the Smartphone. The man looked up as a couple of customers walked out of the shop. Casey kept moving, hoping she hadn’t captured his interest.

  NINE

  CASEY ENTERED HER APARTMENT AND nearly stumbled over two empty boxes by the door. At least Lou was putting things away, but why leave the boxes there? “Lou?”

  No answer. Maybe he’d gone out. According to the note Summer left downstairs, she’d taken Cheyenne for a walk. Casey removed her boots and coat, then headed for the kitchen.

  Just as she feared, Lou hadn’t started dinner. She should have phoned to make sure he would at least start cooking, but briefing the police about the donair shop and updating Kendal had been priorities.

  Kendal confirmed that a customer reported losing a Smartphone and a little girl’s mother reported that her daughter had lost a change purse containing ten bucks. Shoplifters weren’t usually pickpockets, although this bunch might be an exception. Still, the items could have been dropped or left on a counter. The boys would definitely have made the most of an opportunity.

  Casey plunked into a kitchen chair, then brought up the report template on her laptop. She’d managed to write two sentences before Lou came in, carrying large paper bags. “Good, you’re home. How did it go?”

  “Okay. Is Summer back yet?”

  “No.”

  “When did she leave?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been out running errands for over an hour.”

  As he plunked the bags on the counter, Casey smelled Chinese food. Takeout again. When Lou moved in, he’d volunteered to do half of the cooking, but his contribution had mostly been takeout food or prepackaged, microwaveable stuff. Would it kill him to cook a little pasta? She picked up her phone and dialed Summer’s number.

  “Unavailable. She either turned it off or the battery died.”

  “She should have called to let me know she was going out,” Lou said. “That girl’s getting more difficult every week. Maybe you should talk to Rhonda.”

  “What good will it do? Summer’s decided her mother can’t do much to her from a prison cell.”

  “The rules need to be stepped up, Casey. Summer’s barely following the ones she’s got now. Use some tough love.”

  “That goes for you too, right?”

  “Does it?” Lou lifted food containers out of the bags.

  “When you moved in I thought we agreed that we’d both be parenting Summer. Shouldn’t this be a joint effort? Since Devon came on the scene, you haven’t done much disciplining.”

  “I’ve tried, but she doesn’t listen to me. When you’re not here it’s like I’m not either.” Lou turned to her, his mouth downcast. “Did you ever tell her that parenting’s now a joint thing?”

  “I assumed she knew. You babysat her countless times before moving in. Why would she think she doesn’t have to listen to you now that you’re living here?”

  “Ask her.”

  Exasperated, Casey said, “Would you please take those empty boxes downstairs and see if she’s back?”

  “Sure, boss.” He walked across the room, picked up the boxes, and shut the door a little too loudly as he left the apartment.

  Was she being too bossy or overreacting from frustration? Casey called Summer’s number again. Still unavailable—damn it. Why did she get the feeling that Summer wasn’t walking Cheyenne alone? Maybe she should test that theory. Last week, Summer left her phone up here. Acting on some sort of protective instinct, Casey had found Devon’s number and saved it on her own phone. She hadn’t expected to need it so quickly. She was about to call the kid when the phone rang in her hand, startling her. The number wasn’t familiar.

  “This is Mia Quinlan from Fraserview. I’m calling to see if you’re still interested in volunteering. I realize that last night’s shock might have you reconsidering, but I’d like you to stay with us. We could really use the help.”

  “I was told that the volunteer program might be ending soon.”

  “Who said that?” She sounded annoyed.

  “Winson Chen. He said Amir’s not a fan of volunteers and will likely shut the program down.”

  “I see. Well, the truth is I’ve been appointed acting director, and the program stays as long as I’m in charge.”

  “Good to know.” Casey smiled. Amir wouldn’t welcome this development.

  “Some residents are quite upset about Mac, and on edge about Tanya and Justin’s disappearance. We could definitely use some calming influences for the girls. Could you volunteer tomorrow evening?”

  GenMart wasn’t open Sunday nights. “Sure.”

  “Thank you. I might see you there. Bye now.”

  Lou returned as Casey hung up the phone. “She’s still out.”

  Casey called Devon’s cell. He answered on the third ring. Since he’d probably hang up if she told him who was calling, Casey identified herself as a friend of Summer’s. “I was supposed to call her,” she said, changing the pitch of her voice, “but I think her phone’s off. Anyway, she gave me your number. Is she there?”

  Casey noticed Lou grinning as he opened the food containers. In the background she heard a referee’s whistle and clapping.

  “Hello?” Summer said.

  Casey fought the urge to yell. “Where are you?”

  A crowd cheered in the background. “How did you get this number?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “I’m at the rec center,” Summer replied. “I was walking Cheyenne and bumped into Devon, so we stopped to watch a hockey game for a few minutes.”

  “Bumped into Devon?” How bloody convenient. “He was here earlier this afternoon, making pizza.”

  “Well, I had to do my chores, so he left. Then Cheyenne needed a walk, and I wound up here.”

  The recreation center was only a couple of blocks away; a quick rendezvous point. “Why did you turn your phone off?”

  “The battery was low.”

  “You couldn’t have borrowed Devon’s phone to let Lou know where you were?”

  “I left a note, so what’s the big deal?”

  Casey took a calming breath. “The big deal is that you stopped to watch a hockey game when you promised to finish your chores, and you’ve been gone well over an hour. Come home now, please.”

  “Whatever.”

  Casey plunked the phone down. Whatever? What the hell kind of response was that? “I should ground her.”

  Lou shoveled chow mein into his mouth while she paced the room. “Have some food,” he said.

  “Not hungry.” Her phone rang again. It was Amy.

  “I just heard from Justin,” she said, her voice subdued. “He wants me to bring some things to the pedestrian bridge over the Coquitlam River at eight o’clock. It’s near my condo. We used to walk along the trails down there all the time. I tried to persuade him
to meet me indoors, or at least somewhere with more shelter, but he wouldn’t.”

  “Amy, please think about this. Isn’t it in Justin’s best interest if the police are notified now?”

  “Of course I’ve thought about it,” she answered. “The problem is that if the police show up instead of me, Justin will think I betrayed him, and I couldn’t live with that.” She sounded shaky. “Casey, I honestly don’t know how to handle this. Will you please come with me?”

  It wasn’t a great plan, yet turning her back on a friend and skipping a chance to return escapees to Fraserview would be worse. “Just so we’re clear, Amy, if I see Justin I’ll have to call the police.”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’m counting on you to do the right thing.”

  So Amy could absolve herself of that particular guilt? Even though Casey understood, it put her in an awkward position. She glanced at Lou, who was watching her while he ate.

  “I’ll be at your place at seven-thirty,” Casey said.

  They’d barely ended their conversation before Lou said, “What’s up?”

  “I’m trying to be a friend.” The more Casey explained, the deeper Lou frowned.

  “You’re getting too involved,” he said.

  She knew that. “I can’t turn my back on Amy.”

  “What if she decides she doesn’t want you calling the cops?”

  “She won’t have a choice. You heard me tell her what I’ll have to do.”

  They were still discussing it when footsteps pounded up the stairs. A door shut on the second floor.

  “Sounds like Summer’s back and shutting herself in her room,” Lou said. “Shouldn’t she be finishing those chores?”

  “Let’s have a chat with her, together.” Casey led the way to Summer’s bedroom on the second floor and knocked on the door. “Summer, I need to talk to you.”

  Long seconds passed before Summer cracked the door open wide enough to show her defiant face. “What about?” Cheyenne’s snout also poked through the opening.

  “Don’t take that tone with me,” Casey said, feeling her temper rise. “You need to finish your chores. Since you abandoned them for a hockey game and didn’t have the courtesy to let us know how late you’d be getting back, you’re grounded for two weeks.” Until this moment, she had no idea those words would come out of her mouth.