by Garry Ryan
“Maybe she just likes to dance.” Matt crossed the road.
Lane looked at Arthur.
Arthur said, “Matt’s got a date?”
MONDAY, JULY 8
chapter 11
“I don’t see a problem,” Lane said to Harper as he paid for the coffee. He handed his card to Kuldeep. She stamped it with a red coffee bean. “How’s things?”
Kuldeep shook her head. “Still working. Still looking for a way out of the franchise.”
Lane felt a surge of guilt. “What can I do?”
Kuldeep shrugged. “I don’t know. Listen when I complain?” She tried to smile. “When I was a kid in India, my grandfather used to explain how London’s colonial system worked. Nowadays it’s called a franchise system run out of Toronto.” She patted Lane’s arm. “I’ll bring your coffee over, guys.”
Harper and Lane said, “Thanks,” in stereo.
They found a table near the window, away from anyone who might overhear.
Harper continued the initial conversation. “The problem is, Sophia Lombardi just lost her brother and she made herself pretty clear last time we talked with her.” He tapped the table with his index finger for emphasis.
“Yes and she’s had time to think about what happened. There may be more she can tell us about her brother. After all, brothers and sisters are often more likely to confide in one another. Even Matt is starting to confide in Christine.”
“I thought they hated one another.” Harper looked over his shoulder to see if the first coffee of the day was on its way.
“That’s what I thought at first, but they’ve been acting odd lately.”
Harper looked out the window. “Odd how?”
“It’s like they’re becoming …” Lane searched his mind for the right word.
The door opened. Harper sized up the couple who walked in. He studied their hands, the way they took in the room. “Siblings?”
“That’s it.” Lane kicked Harper in the shin.
“What was that for?” Harper rubbed his leg.
“It’s not likely we’ll get shot at in here. Quit looking at people like they’re armed.” Lane leaned the weight of off his bruised cheek and winced at the pain from his wound.
“You just never know.” Harper turned as Kuldeep brought their coffees.
“Here you go, guys,” she said.
“Thanks,” they said.
Lane closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of coffee and chocolate.
“So you want me to call Sophia Lombardi?”
Lane opened his eyes. “And we need to see her right away, before she has time to prepare any answers in her head.”
It took only twenty minutes to get downtown and another hour to track Sophia down. They were told to look for her in The Diner. It was located on Stephen’s Avenue Mall, where breakfast was served all day. The restaurant was somewhere between three and four metres wide, so Harper was forced to follow a couple of steps behind Lane. They passed a row of red metal tractor seats on metal poles for customers who preferred to sit at the counter. Black and white photos lined the wall on the other side. He spotted Sophia’s red hair at a table near the back, next to the kitchen.
They stood in front of her as she read the newspaper. An unfinished cup of fresh fruit sat on the table alongside a half-empty cup of coffee. “Is it okay if we sit down?” Lane asked.
Sophia looked over the top of the paper.
Lane looked at her eyes. They had that numb-from-grief and lack-of-sleep look. She had been thin before; now her freckled face was beginning to look gaunt. Her face was free of makeup and her sunken cheeks appeared to be losing their tan.
Sophia’s voice sounded empty when she said, “What now?”
“We have some questions we need to ask.” Harper’s voice was softer and quieter than usual.
She sighed. “Sit down.”
Lane sat across from her. Harper pulled an adjacent table closer ’til it touched Sophia’s.
“Have somethin’ to eat.” She glanced at the newspaper, then waved at the waitress. “One of the best places for breakfast in town.”
“I’m not very hungry,” Lane said.
“Too bad. You wanna talk, you gotta eat. These girls gotta make a livin’ too. Can’t make any money when people just sit and talk.”
“I’ll eat if you do.” Lane thought, There’s no way we’re going to get her out of here to a place more private. This is where it has to be.
Sophia glared at him across the table as if to say, “I don’t take shit from anyone, and especially not from you.”
He watched her with obvious curiosity.
“You got balls.” Sophia smiled. “When your food comes, I’ll eat.”
“What are you havin’?” The waitress poured coffee for each of them.
Lane noticed she wore black jeans and a black t-shirt. “Eggs over easy, bacon, and brown toast.”
“Same,” Harper said.
“Comin’ up. Sophia, you okay?” the waitress asked.
Sophia looked up. The motion appeared to take a great deal of effort.
The waitress looked at Lane and Harper before looking back at Sophia. “You all right?”
“I’ll let you know if I’m not.” Sophia looked at Lane and Harper. “Jenn’s an old friend.”
Jenn took a long hard look at the detectives before leaving.
“We’re hoping to talk with you about the relationship between Skip and Blake.”
“They lived in the same house.” Sophia looked back at Lane as if she were challenging him.
She wants to fight, Lane thought. Any kind of distraction from the grief will do. Lane waited.
“Duds was the reason my brother stayed there. After Duds disappeared, there was no reason for Skip to live there any longer.” Sophia stared back at Lane.
Lane sensed her switch in mood from needing to fight to needing to talk. He said, “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Duds and Skip were partners. Call it what you want. They loved each other. It’s kind of hard for a rodeo rider to admit he’s gay, if you know what I mean. That’s why they didn’t want to broadcast their relationship.” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. Her mouth was set in a straight line. “You two here to dig up dirt on my brother? You know, make it look like the ‘fag’ got what he deserved? That way you can say you solved the murder. It was just a queer spat. Nothing that regular people should worry about.”
Harper shifted uncomfortably at the word ‘fag’.
Lane looked at Harper as if to say, “Relax.”
Jenn slid the plates onto the table. “Want ketchup and jam?”
“Please.” Harper spoke between his teeth.
“How’s it goin’?” Jenn asked Sophia.
Sophia shrugged.
“I can ask them to leave.” Jenn put her fists on her hips. She looked toward the front of the restaurant, where a couple of beefy guys leaned their elbows on the counter.
Sophia looked from Lane to Harper, as if sizing them up again. “What’s going on here?”
Lane decided it was time for everyone to come clean. “I’m gay. He’s straight. I’ve got a partner; my niece just moved in. We also have a nephew and now a new dog at home.” Lane pointed at Harper. “He’s got a wife, new daughter, and nephew at his place. We’re here to find out what we can about your brother and hopefully figure out who killed him.”
Sophia sat back. She looked at Lane and Harper. She looked up at Jenn. “It’ll be okay.”
Jenn said, “Just wave if you need us.”
“Can we eat?” Lane asked.
“Good idea,” Sophia said.
They ate in silence, watching each other surreptitiously.
Jenn frequently returned under the pretext of refilling their coffees. She took their plates away when they finished.
“You’re right,” Harper said.
“How’s that?” Sophia said.
“The breakfast was great. Those fried potatoes are the best I’ve had in th
is city, or any other as far as that goes.” Harper took a sip of coffee.
Sophia nodded. “I apologize.”
“For what?” Lane asked.
“For usin’ the ‘f ’ bomb.” Sophia leaned back against her seat. “I should never have used that word.”
Lane shrugged. “It’s not the word, it’s the way it’s used. You were defending your brother against a threat. Under the circumstances, I would have done the same thing.”
“Skip and I were close,” Sophia said.
“I gathered that.” Lane decided to keep his responses as short as possible. Let Sophia talk, he thought.
“It wasn’t easy for my brother. He thought my family would never accept his comin’ out. Sure, my parents suspected, but we all let Skip play his macho game. You know, live in the country, hang around the rodeos. Live with four guys. Drive a pickup. Wear a cowboy hat. That kind of stuff.” Sophia looked at the entrance to the restaurant as if expecting to see her brother walk through the door and wave at her when he saw her.
“We used to meet here for lunch at least once a week. This is where he told me what happened to the kid.” Sophia looked at each of them in turn as if checking to see if they understood what she was talking about.
“Alex Starchild?” Lane asked.
“That’s right. How much of this will end up in the papers?” Sophia asked.
Harper leaned forward. “We can’t predict what the media will do with the story. We’re looking for a killer, and we need evidence to arrest him.”
“Or her,” Sophia said.
Harper said, “Or her.”
“Blake was drunk the day the kid was killed. He was always acting macho to pass. He thought if he acted like a redneck, no one would ever suspect he was gay. Skip used to joke about it. The day the kid was killed, they were drivin’ home from the bar. Duds and Skip were in the back. Tyler was drivin’. Blake was up front, in the passenger seat. He spotted the kid in the ditch. Skip said that Blake screamed, ‘Get that bastard!’ Tyler steered to the edge of the road. Blake opened his door, braced it with his foot and the door hit the kid.” Sophia’s voice remained toneless. “Duds and Skip wanted to stop and check on the kid, but Blake told Tyler to keep goin’. Later on, Blake held the kid’s death over their heads, especially after Tyler disappeared. Blake convinced them they’d all end up in jail if one of them talked. So, they kept quiet until Duds disappeared. Skip told Blake he was going to move out. That’s what Skip and I were going to talk about that day, but he never turned up. Skip was going to move in with me until he could find a place of his own. And I think Skip was gettin’ ready to talk to the cops.”
“Any idea who killed your brother or what happened to the other two?” Lane asked.
“Blake always figured it was Eva. He figured it had something to do with her knowing who killed her grandson, the land claim or some other grudge she held against Blake’s family. He would get drunk and just start ranting.” Sophia sagged. “I feel responsible. If I’d just told the police this earlier, then my brother might still be alive.”
Harper went to say something and stopped himself.
Lane shook his head at his partner. “Do you know what Blake did with the truck after he and Tyler ran Alex down?”
“Skip said he took it to some friend of his who fixed it. Paid ten thousand dollars for the guy to keep his mouth shut. At the time, Blake still had a plenty of his grandmother’s inheritance.” Sophia took a long breath.
“At the time?” Harper asked.
“Yeah. Blake’s broke. Last time I saw him he was bitchin’ about havin’ to go and look for a real job.” Sophia’s tone of voice was filled with venom.
“You hated him?” Lane asked.
Sophia looked surprised. “Don’t you?”
“Think we have enough for a search?” Harper asked as they drove out of downtown following the southern banks of the Bow River. It was lunch hour. The joggers were out running two and three abreast along the pathway that lay between the road and the river.
“Enough at least for some more questions. It’s always better to have some hard evidence to go along with a hearsay witness.”
Twenty minutes later, they stopped just on the edge of the city for gas at the Super Service with its nineteen-fifties colours and geometric lines. Two men in black leather waited on their Harley motorcycles to cross the highway. In front of them, a woman in an electric wheelchair looked east and west. All three accelerated across the road and toward a new development about a half a kilometre away. “There’s something you don’t see everyday.” Harper pulled up to the pumps, stepped out and began to fill the car with gas.
The attendant looked to be seventeen. She ran out and leaned on Lane’s window. He saw black mascara tears running down her cheeks. She pushed back her black hair. “Glad you guys got here so fast. I only called, like, five minutes ago. It was pretty scary. I mean that guy on the motorcycle, he was going crazy. Saying he knew what that old lady was up to, and he was coming for her.”
Lane held up his hand. “Whoa. Do you know the name of the old lady?”
“Eva. Everybody knows Eva. I went to school with Alex. Norm was in the truck with her.” The young woman started to shake.
Lane said, “What’s your name?”
“Kelsey. My family runs the station. Eva stopped for gas and a Slurpee. Norm loves his Slurpees. They paid for everything, and this guy pulled up on his motorcycle. You know, black helmet, black leather jacket and chaps. Black boots and dark sunglasses. Even the bike was black. Everybody around here knows who he is. Name is Blake.
“He started yelling at Eva. He said stuff like, ‘You got my friends, but you’re not gonna get me. Don’t come near my place or I’ll blow you away.’ He kicked in the door of her truck, grabbed a squeegee and tried to smash her headlights. He acted like he was drunk. Eva had to stop Norm from going after Blake. I mean, Norm is a big, strong guy. Then a couple of cars full of people from T’suu T’ina pulled up. They saw what was going on and got out. There were about ten of them. Blake took off. The guys in the cars asked if Eva was okay, and I went inside to call you.” Kelsey started to weep.
Harper finished filling up the car and returned the nozzle to the pump.
Lane got out of the car and glanced over the roof at his partner before turning back to Kelsey. “You said they left about five minutes ago?”
“That’s right.” Kelsey wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“We’re going to pay for our gas, and then we’re heading out to talk with Blake. Can you tell the officers, when they get here, that we’re on our way to Blake Rogers’ place?” Lane took Kelsey back into the store.
“Okay,” Kelsey said.
“You also need to call your family and let them know what happened,” Lane said.
Kelsey nodded.
When Lane and Harper were back in the car, Lane called it in. After he finished, he looked at Harper. “The helicopter is on its way. All we have to do is block off Blake’s driveway so he can’t leave, then we’ll wait for the helicopter and backup before going in.”
Lane handled the calls and updates while Harper drove. When they turned off the pavement and onto the gravel road leading to Blake’s acreage, they stopped to get their bulletproof vests out of the trunk.
“He may be impaired, and he may have an assault rifle.” Lane took his jacket off before putting on a vest. He checked his pistol and extra magazines. He carefully laid his sports jacket in the trunk. Usually my mind clears at times like this, but it’s different this time. I can’t get images of Matt and Christine out of my head.
Harper waited with his hand on the open trunk lid. “Don’t worry. We can’t get shot at twice in a month. It just doesn’t happen.”
They got back in the car. Lane kept his window open and looked in the passenger mirror. The cloud of dust obscured the road behind them.
A call came in with an update; the police helicopter was three minutes away.
Harper slowed as they
neared Blake’s place. They saw a black motorcycle parked next to the black Ford pickup. Harper eased the Chev off the gravel road.
Lane saw Blake open the front door. He was still dressed in a leather jacket and matching black leather chaps. He held an assault rifle in his right hand.
“Gun!” Lane reached for his Glock.
Blake stepped onto the front step. He pulled back the bolt action on the automatic rifle.
Harper turned left. The Chev dove into a ditch that was more than a metre deep. The nose of the car rammed into the bottom of the ditch. Both airbags deployed. The rear axle got hung up on the end of a section of corrugated-culvert pipe. Stunned by the impact of the airbag against the side of his head, Lane felt himself being dragged out of the car through Harper’s door. Harper gripped the shoulder of Lane’s vest and pulled him under the open door and around the front of the car.
Automatic rifle fire crashed over their heads.
“You hit?” Harper asked.
Lane lifted his Glock. “Not yet. Let’s hope he still hasn’t figured out how to use that weapon.”
Bullets ripped into the trunk of the Chev.
Lane and Harper crouched as low as possible behind the grill and the engine.
“You bastards!” Blake screamed.
“Put down the gun!” Lane yelled back.
The answer was more automatic fire. The first two rounds hit the trunk and the rest zipped overhead.
Harper rolled left and crawled to the lip of the ditch. He fired two rounds into the pickup and rolled back next to Lane.
“Don’t you take another chance like that! Time’s on our side.” Lane grabbed Harper by the arm.
“He’s changing clips. I just wanted him to know we’d shoot back. If he moves around to one of our flanks, we won’t have a chance against that weapon.” Harper looked left. “Where’s that damned dog?”
Another burst of automatic fire smashed into the rear of the Chev. The air filled with the raw stench of gasoline. Lane and Harper eased their guns out over the hood and fired in Blake’s general direction.