The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set

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The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set Page 32

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey


  “Do you recall your dad ever hitting your mom?” Chevy jumped up onto her lap and lay down.

  Jared shook his head.

  “Did your dad ever hit you?”

  Again, Jared shook his head. He glanced at her. “So did that conversation with Grandma stimulate your interest a little?”

  “More than just a little,” she admitted.

  “And?”

  “Okay,” she laughed. “I’ll do what I can. Just as long as you understand that my research takes priority. And I’ll find a B&B for us to stay at.” She could put off her camping trip for a few days, if necessary, for this man.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth,” Jared said, with a big grin. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  “But,” she cautioned. “You have to be prepared for whatever we discover. If that wasn’t a suicide note then maybe she was in fear of her life and she was saying goodbye to her parents. And with what we learned about your father, right now it’s not looking very good for him.”

  “I know and that does bother me. But he’s my father and he raised me, so I think I know what he’s capable of. He may not have been the best husband but I don’t think he would have killed her.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Elizabeth thought a moment. “I have some more questions.”

  “Ask away. I’ll answer every one.”

  “Did your grandparents fulfill your mother’s wishes?” Elizabeth wondered what type of grandparents they had been before.

  “They tried, sending gifts on birthdays and at Christmas but Dad wouldn’t let me talk to them when they called and he wouldn’t let me go visit them.”

  “Do you know why?” Elizabeth scratched Chevy’s head.

  “He said they never wanted anything to do with me before Mom died, why should he let them now.”

  “What about your mother’s family. Did you see any of them?”

  “Mom was an only child. Grandma’s sister died years ago but her daughter, I guess she’d be Mom’s cousin, still lives on a farm near Radway. I’ve never met her.”

  “What about on your dad’s side.”

  “Dad and Willy’s mother moved to the farm from the Grande Prairie area when Willy was small. Grandma Jones moved with them and she was the only family I knew on his side.”

  “Did you find it lonely without much family around?” She wouldn’t have wanted to grow up without her siblings.

  Jared shrugged. “It was the only life I knew.”

  “Okay, that’s about all I can think of right now.” Elizabeth was silent going over what else she might need to know. “I’d like a picture of your mother, if you have one.

  Jared reached for his wallet in the cup holder and pulled out a photograph. “It’s her graduation. Mom is the girl in the centre.”

  Elizabeth took it and looked down at a group of four young people posing for the camera. The girls wore long gowns, the boys were in suits. Anna’s dark hair was piled on top of her head with wisps hanging down the side of her face. She was squeezed between a boy and a girl, with another young man draping his arms over her shoulders. They were all smiling happily.

  “She was pretty,” Elizabeth said. “And it looks like she was popular. Is this the only one you have?” She’d been hoping for a more updated one, maybe with Jared as a child.

  “This is one that Grandma gave me. Dad threw all their pictures away after the funeral.” They’d reached Elizabeth’s house and sat for a few minutes in Jared’s vehicle.

  “I made a list of Mom’s friends and neighbours,” Jared said.

  “You did? You were that sure I would agree to this?”

  “I wasn’t, but I wanted to be ready if you did.” He gave her a sideways grin before reaching into the little pouch on the side of his chair for a folded sheet of paper. He handed it to her.

  Elizabeth looked at the long list. “That’s a lot of people for us to talk to,” she said, a little dismayed. Maybe this was going to be a bad idea.

  “I’ve divided them into groups. Some of them are names of people who were our neighbours when I was growing up, some are friends of ours, and the others are a few names that Grandma could recall. I don’t know how many of them knew or will even remember Mom.”

  Elizabeth started reading the list out loud. “Sarah and Nick Thompson, Wayne and Christine Dearden, Ben and Meredith Warren.”

  “They were neighbours of Mom and Dad. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson still live on their farm. I think she goes by her maiden name of Munter, though. Mr. and Mrs. Dearden are divorced. Mr. Dearden is on the farm, I’m not sure where Mrs. Dearden is. Mr. Warren is dead. Mrs. Warren is a poet and lives in Redwater. She was Mom’s closest friend.”

  “Meredith, the one who gave your Grandma the letter?”

  Jared nodded. “Brittany and Tylar Heigh,” he continued. “Mrs. Heigh was Ben’s sister. They bought the farm after Ben was killed.”

  Elizabeth noticed how Jared referred to them. Paul had certainly taught him to be polite.

  “That’s a lot of people,” Elizabeth said. “Hopefully we won’t have to talk to them all. Let’s break it up. Since they knew your mother we’ll start with the first three and if we can’t learn anything from them we’ll move on to three more.”

  Jared nodded.

  “Do you know where they live?”

  “Except for Mrs. Dearden, yes. And maybe we can find out from Mr. Dearden when we talk to him.”

  “Good.” Elizabeth said. “I’ll call a few bed and breakfasts in the area and find one that allows dogs and has a wheelchair accessible room on the ground floor. Unless you want to stay at your dad’s.”

  “No, a B&B is fine with me and I’ll pay for the rooms since this isn’t an expense you had considered in your travel plans. Besides, if we stay at the B&B together then we only have to take one vehicle. Mine will hold all you need as well as Chevy.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. She needed a vehicle totally at her disposal. Going with Jared in his wasn’t an option, even if they were both staying at the same place. In spite of all the talking they had done over the past two months, she really didn’t know his morning routine, how long it took him to get up and ready, whether he liked to have a leisurely morning or would be willing to get going early.

  “When I am working I get up early and leave, sometimes without breakfast. And I don’t quit until it’s dark or I’m finished for the day. If you come with me that might be a long day for you or if I take your van you are stuck at the B&B for the day.”

  “Yes, I see your point. How many routes are you planning on doing?”

  “I’ve set up three, so I’ll be gone at least three days, maybe more.”

  “That’s going to be a lot of work.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And with us taking separate vehicles I can be doing some other things while you are gone and when we are working on Mom’s murder, we can travel together.”

  “That works for me.”

  As much as she hated to call it a night she had to work in the morning. “So, I’ll book us each a room at a B&B and maybe I should come by your place one evening this week with Sally and learn your morning and bedtime routines.” Elizabeth kissed Jared good night and clambered out of the van with Chevy in hand. She held him in one arm and waved until the van was out of sight.

  Elizabeth quickly went on the Internet and looked up B&B’s in the Redwater area. Miraculously, she found one almost immediately that was just perfect for their needs. The phone was answered on the first ring.

  “Pine Tree Bed and Breakfast,” a young male voice said. “Brandon Ulfsten speaking.”

  “Hi. My name is Elizabeth Oliver and I would like to book your wheelchair accessible room and a second room for next week.” That was all the time she wanted to give to Jared’s conundrum.

  “What day will you be arriving?”

  “Saturday.”

  “Okay. Will you be needing someone to look after the person in the wheelchair?”

  “Prob
ably, on the occasional day. I plan on leaving the B&B early on some mornings and might get back late so my companion, Jared Jones, will need help on those days with his morning and evening routines.”

  “There is a slight charge for that,” Brandon said.

  “No problem. Also, I will be bringing a small dog.”

  “And a pet fee for him.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Once it was arranged, Elizabeth called Jared to let him know then climbed into bed. She hoped her mind wouldn’t keep her awake all night rehashing the conversation with his Grandma.

  Chapter 7

  Anna’s Story

  Anna lay in bed and listened to the familiar banging noise at the back door. She glanced at the clock. It was five in the morning and Paul was just coming home from town. She had long since stopped getting up to assist him. Helping didn’t improve his mood and not helping didn’t worsen it.

  At last he was able to open the door and she could hear him colliding with the table as he struggled to get through the kitchen. She turned her back to the door and feigned sleep as he neared, hoping he would fall onto the bed and pass out. But when she saw the room lighten up through her lids, she knew she wouldn’t get her wish.

  “Anna, geddup!” His words were slurred. He grasped her shoulder and shook it. “I want shomeshing to eat, dammit!”

  She pretended not to hear. He pulled her over onto her back. She opened her eyes, fearful that he might strike her.

  “I’m hungry.” He bent close to her face, his breath reeking of beer. “And I wan’ bacon, a whole plate full of bacon.” He slumped over, half on the bed, half on the floor.

  Anna knew better than to argue. She climbed off the bed and stepped around him. She grabbed her housecoat, covering her swelling belly.

  She watched as Paul groped his way to his feet then bounced against the wall in the hallway. He went into his sons’ bedroom and turned on the light. “Time to geddup and milk the cowsh, Willy,” he said, his words jumbled together. He leaned against the door frame for support.

  Anna hovered behind him. He’d never raised a hand to the two boys but she didn’t trust him. There was a time when he had never hit her either.

  Sixteen year-old Willy groaned from the upper bunk and slowly opened his eyes.

  “Get up, you lashy bugger,” Paul yelled. He stumbled over and kicked the corner of the bunk bed. “Why do I alwaysh have to wake you? When I wash a kid, I was alwaysh up in time for milking.”

  Willy threw off his covers and jumped from the top bunk. He looked at four-year-old Jared who was cowering in the lower bunk.

  “I’ll be right with you,” Willy said to his father. He leaned over and patted Jared reassuringly on the shoulder.

  “You better be,” Paul growled, as he staggered towards the doorway again.

  Anna turned quickly and headed to the kitchen. She was standing at the stove putting bacon in the frying pan when Paul finally entered the kitchen.

  “Where’sh my coffee?” he demanded, collapsing into a chair at the table.

  She grabbed the pot with its left over coffee from the night before. She poured him a cup and set it in the microwave. The smell of the bacon permeated the room and it was making her nauseous. “Could you please take over for me?” Anna asked Willy, when he came in.

  “He’sh got cowsh to milk,” Paul bellowed, from his seat at the table.

  Willy walked up to her. “What did you do to make him get up so early?” he demanded, through clenched teeth.

  “He’s just come home.” Anna said, with resignation. She looked up at the kitchen clock as she took the cup from the microwave. Willy followed her glance. It was just after five o’clock.

  “See what you’ve done to him.” He glowered at her.

  “Whadd’re you waidding for,” Paul yelled. “Gedd out to the barn.”

  Willy grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

  Anna fought back the bile in her throat as she turned the bacon then quickly put the lid on the pan to keep as much of the smell in as she could. She made toast, put it on his plate, then forked the bacon beside it. Between the stove and the table her stomach started to rebel. She threw the plate in front of him and ran to the bathroom. His drunken laughter followed her.

  When she had finished she leaned back against the wall. She didn’t know what she was going to do with another child or even what Paul was going to do. For he never once picked Jared up when he was a baby nor did he talk to him in his crib. As Jared grew older Paul had disciplined him when he needed it but he never showed any emotion towards him and never hugged him. She’d always wondered if that was just his nature, if he had treated Willy the same way when he was younger. Now she worried about how he was going to treat the new baby especially after he’d said. “Oh, so you’re having another little bastard, are you?” when she’d told him she was pregnant again.

  When Anna heard Paul stumble to the bedroom, she came out of the bathroom. She went to the back door and opened it, a signal to Willy, waiting at the bottom of the step that it was safe to come in.

  She didn’t go back to sleep. It would mean climbing into bed with Paul. Instead she sat at the kitchen table for a few moments then got up to make a start on the bread. It was going to be a scorcher today so she might as well get at it early.

  That afternoon, with the bread in the oven baking, the house felt like it was a sauna. Anna’s hair was damp and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. On days like this she just wanted to take her clothes off and sit in front of a fan. But she couldn’t do that with the boys around.

  Anna picked up a plastic pan and went outside. She set it on the step then grabbed the pail and rope that sat in the corner of the porch. In the back yard was an old well that had been used by the previous owners before running water had been put into the house. The round metal casing stuck out of the ground up to the height of her calf and a large rock sat on the metal lid to keep Jared from lifting it off.

  Anna pushed the rock over the edge and removed the lid. She stared down the wide mouth of the well into the water below. So many times during the record breaking temperatures of the summer she had looked at the clear water and wished she could slip into its peaceful, inviting depths, feel its soothing coolness envelope her.

  She lowered the pail until it hit the water. The weight on the end of the rope tipped it over so it filled.

  Anna grunted as she pulled up the heavy pail. No matter how long she ran the water in the house, it never seemed to come out as cold as this did. She replaced the lid and rock then carried the pail to the porch where she poured the water into the pan. Sinking down onto the step above the pan, she slipped off her sandals and slid her feet into the water with a sigh. This was the best way to cool off on a hot day.

  Willy stopped and looked down at her on his way back from the chicken coop with a bowl of eggs. At sixteen he was almost as big as his father.

  “Why don’t you just leave?” he asked angrily. “Just get out of our lives?”

  Anna continued cooling her feet. When she’d first moved in he’d done the temper tantrums, the ignoring, the trying for his dad’s attention. Then when Paul had changed so had Willy, becoming sullen and resentful.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked, louder. “Dad’s had a mad on ever since you moved in here and Jared was born, and I’m tired of being the brunt of it.”

  Anna looked up at him. “Willy, I would love to leave your father and this place, but I have no money. With one child, another on the way, and no training, I have little hope of supporting us if I did.”

  “There’s welfare.”

  “I don’t want my children to grow up on welfare.”

  “I wish you’d never come,” he snarled, stomping away.

  “Me, too,” she said softly.

  Anna scooped the water up with her hand and let it run down her legs to cool them. Her life was getting worse and worse. If only her parents would give her a chance…. If only Nick had agreed to her wishes.


  She heard the door bang open behind her. “Make me some fresh coffee,” Paul demanded, gruffly.

  Anna jumped up, quickly pushed her wet feet into her sandals, and threw the water away.

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth took stock of her equipment. She had her laptop with its voice activated software for recording as she drove, her digital camera and chain for carrying it around her neck, and her cell phone and tape recorder in pouches to hang from her belt. And there was her battery charger and extra batteries and tapes. She used the recorder for anything outside her vehicle like when she went into buildings, or interviewed people, or went on a hike.

  She carried a credit and a debit card and some cash for donations to some of the attractions she stopped at. These she kept in her jeans pockets along with her vehicle keys when she wasn’t driving.

  Her suitcase, and box containing some granola bars, a few cans of beans, a case of water, and a dozen cans of Pepsi was in the back of her Tracker. Chevy’s bag of dog food and water dish were also there. Since she wasn’t going camping until after she had finished her research, she’d left the back seat intact. When she went to the mountains next week she would remove it to haul all her camping gear.

  As usual, she’d called Sherry and Terry the night before to say goodbye. Sally had had a graveyard shift so she was sleeping. Elizabeth hugged her dad.

  “I obviously can’t tell you to stay away from this murder,” he said. “So I’ll just say to be careful and call often.”

  “I will, Dad. Anyway, we don’t even know if it was a murder. That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

  Chevy followed her out to the Tracker and jumped in on his side.

  “We’re off again,” she said, patting him on the head.

  Elizabeth drove to Jared’s place. He was ready and waiting in his vehicle. She pulled up beside him, waved and carried on. He followed her.

  As Elizabeth headed out of Edmonton on Highway 28, she instantly felt a sense of freedom. She was on the road doing what she loved best, researching for her writing. She never seemed to get over the awe that this was her career. Because she did consider it her career. Working at the long term care facility was just a means of supporting herself and her writing.

 

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