She looked over at Chevy sleeping on the seat beside her. Her father had offered to take care of him. “I look after him while you are at work, why not now?” he’d said. With the extra time she’d be spending with Jared, she’d actually thought for a few moments that it might be a good idea, too. But she’d quickly changed her mind. Chevy had gone with her on her other research trips and this was where he belonged.
She checked in the rear view mirror to make sure Jared was keeping up with her. She’d given him the directions in case they got separated, but there was little traffic on the highway so that shouldn’t be a problem.
Elizabeth turned on her laptop and began recording the route from Edmonton to Redwater. She’d include a map of the routes with the article and advise the reader to take along a road map, which would show the distances between the towns. By not having to mention the kilometres she had more room for the attractions and sites.
She had told Jared she would be stopping in Gibbons, so when she reached the town she drove to The Emmanuel Anglican Church. Jared parked behind her but waited in his van while she grabbed her tape recorder and camera and entered the church. “The interior, with its U joint style and large beams, is modelled after the inside of a ship,” she recorded. “It’s over one hundred years old and is unique in Alberta. It’s still in use today.”
Elizabeth continued to the Sturgeon River Historical Museum in Oliver Park. When she’d first read this on the Internet she’d wondered if the park was named after anyone related to her. Jared joined her and they headed down the wide path to The McLeans Store with its antique cash register, desks, and an old sewing machine sitting on the hardwood floor. They carried further on to a log building with artifacts from the area and a small home with 1920s furnishings. Jared pointed to some of the old farm machinery and explained to Elizabeth what each piece was used for.
“Hey, you’re more than just a pretty face,” she laughed. “You might actually be helpful for my research on this trip!”
She drove out of Gibbons and at Redwater pulled over to let Jared take the lead. After all, this was his home town and he knew it better than she did. He took her to the tourist information centre for the pamphlets and brochures that she enjoyed reading in the evening after a long day. She’d find little tidbits about the background of the area that sometimes fit well in her article.
Then he drove past the site of the tallest oil derrick in North America so she would know where it was. This was where she planned to start her day off tomorrow.
She followed him until they pulled into the driveway of the Pine Tree B&B, a large, two-storey, red building with a hip roof. When she’d seen it on the Internet she’d wondered if it was an old, converted barn.
The yard was full of animal-shaped evergreen trees. There was a cat and a dog by the driveway, and dotted about were a unicorn, a bear, and even an elephant. How on earth had someone done them and how many years had it taken?
Elizabeth stepped out and put Chevy on his leash. He immediately headed for a walk. “Not yet, bud,” she said. “We’ve got to check in first.” They waited for Jared to be lowered on his lift.
“What an unusual place,” she said.
Jared nodded. “It’s funny how I was raised in the area and I never knew this was here.”
Elizabeth led the way up the sidewalk to the front door, which was at one end of the building. She rang the bell wondering if they were supposed to enter or wait for someone to come. A young man opened the door and smiled at them.
“You must be Elizabeth and Jared,” he said, holding the door for them. “I’m Brandon Ulfsten. We spoke on the phone.”
“Nice to meet you,” Elizabeth said, stepping in. When she’d talked to him he’d sounded young but in person she thought he looked to be in his teens.
The entranceway was large with a counter to one side and a couch and two chairs to the other. There was a fireplace on one wall and a stuffed moose head with giant horns hung over it. Brandon went around the counter and they began the check in process. At the end he pulled out two pieces of paper and handed one each to Elizabeth and Jared.
“If you could fill these out before you leave, I’d appreciate it,” he said.
Elizabeth glanced at hers and saw that it was a customer questionnaire.
“I’ll show you to your rooms now,” Brandon said.
He was very efficient and certainly knew what he was doing, Elizabeth thought as they followed him to Jared’s room. Maybe he was older than he looked. Which made her wonder if she getting to the point where she was starting to judge people’s ability by their age or their looks? She certainly hoped not.
Jared’s room was large and sparsely furnished with a double bed, an overstuffed chair, and a desk with a flat screen television on it. There was plenty of space for him to manoeuvre his wheelchair with ease.
Brandon showed them how the bed could be raised and lowered and the tracking on the ceiling for a lift. In lieu of a dresser the closet had shelving for clothes. The ensuite had a shower area with a hand held nozzle and a commode chair with belt for sitting on. It also had tracking on the ceiling.
“If the overstuffed chair is in your way I can remove it,” Brandon said.
“The room looks perfect,” Jared said.
Elizabeth agreed.
“I’ll be the one assisting you on the mornings Ms. Oliver isn’t here,” Brandon said.
Elizabeth and Chevy followed Brandon upstairs to her room. It, too, was large but held more furniture, a king sized bed, a desk, a dresser, two night tables, a table with coffee pot, and an entertainment centre with television. Her ensuite had a whirlpool tub plus shower.
Brandon returned to the parking lot with Elizabeth. He carried Jared’s suitcase and laptop to his room while she lugged her own suitcase and paraphernalia to hers and unpacked. After Chevy’s walk they went back to see how Jared was doing.
He, too, had unpacked and was reading a book which he closed and handed her. She read the title, “Slashed Love: Book Three of The Revelations of A Lost Wife Series by Meredith Warren.”
Ah, yes, Jared had said she was a poet. Elizabeth looked at it with interest.
“It’s just been published. I brought it so I could get her to sign it for me.”
Elizabeth reread the series title. “The Revelations of a Lost Wife makes it sound like the poems are sad ones.”
“I’ve just started to read these ones but if they’re like the poems in the other two, they are. They’re about her life with her husband until he was killed.”
“Killed? How?”
“Well, it happened when I was young but from what I’ve heard he was stabbed by his girlfriend.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Her name was Christine.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “As in Christine and Wayne? One of the couples on your list?”
“Yes.”
Elizabeth looked at the cover. It was of a heart with a knife in it and three drops of blood.
He handed her two more books, one titled We Were One and the other The Unravelling. “These are the first two in her series.”
They both had the same cover picture as the latest one. That was unusual. “Are these signed as well?”
“Oh, yes. I bought the first book at a reading and signing Mrs. Warren did in Edmonton. I went because I sort of knew her. I liked it so when the second one came out I bought it, too. That one I took to her place when I was out here visiting and got her to sign. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“You never mentioned that before.”
“With everything else happening the timing never seemed right. It does now.”
“You like reading poetry?” Elizabeth asked. This was something new. She sat down in the overstuffed chair and thumbed through them
Jared blushed a bit. “I do and I also write it.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, impressed. There was much more to him than she had realized.
“Meredith is my mentor. Whenever I come to visit Dad I
go see her and we talk poetry. In between we email each other. I get her to read over my efforts and she gives me her feedback. She’s the one who encouraged me to started sending my poetry to literary magazines.”
“Have you had any published?”
“A few.”
“How many is a few?”
“Fourteen.”
“Hey, that’s a lot.” Elizabeth put the books on the side table and leaned towards Jared. “Did you bring any for her to look while we’re here?”
“I’m working on a chapbook right now and I’ve been emailing some to her for her advice. I’d like to discuss them with her while we are here.”
“What’s a chapbook? I’ve heard that word, but I’m not sure what it means.”
“A chapbook is a small book that could contain poems, short stories, family recipes whatever the author wants. It’s usually self-published but some book publishers are now willing to publish them.”
“What type of poems do you write?” She was enjoying this.
“I really like the Japanese Haiku.”
Elizabeth felt a little foolish having to ask. “What’s that?”
“There are many types but the one I like to write has seventeen syllables spaced over three lines. The first line has five syllables, the second seven, and the third five again. I can show you an example.” He turned on his laptop and brought up a long series of poems. “I’m working on this to send to a literary magazine contest. They want a chain of haiku using the different definitions of the word “operation.” He moved away so she could see them.
She read out loud.
“Secret agents act.
Busy businessmen transact.
Governments enact.”
She stopped and counted the syllables in each line. “Five, seven, five,” then read on to herself. “Oh, I like this one!” she said, and read another one out.
Airplane pilots fly.
The smooth talker utters lies.
Store purchasers buy.
She grinned at him. “Those are good.”
Jared shrugged. “I don’t know. Haiku are not supposed to rhyme, but there are so many types and so many rules that people don’t follow, that I decided to do them this way. I’m still working on them so they might change.” He shut down the computer.
“I guess we should get out to Dad’s,” Jared said, taking the photograph of the grave site from his suitcase and tucking it in his shirt pocket. He wheeled out the door.
Chapter 9
“Have you decided if you are going to show your dad the photograph?” Elizabeth asked, as she and Chevy settled onto the passenger seat of his van.
“Not yet. I phoned Willy again and had another long talk with him. He’s still adamant that I shouldn’t, that Mom committed suicide but there was something missing in his voice. It lacked conviction, almost like he knows something.”
“Maybe we should try to speak with him alone,” Elizabeth said. She wanted to mention that Willy might know something about their father beating Jared’s mother but wasn’t sure if now was the right time to bring it up.
“What did you tell them about me?” she asked.
“Just what we decided. You’re my care giver. When we get there I’ll ask the questions.”
Elizabeth nodded. They’d discussed how to best approach their investigation. They thought people would talk more openly with Jared than they would with her. Jared had been worried that he wouldn’t be very good at it. She’d given him some pointers on how to get started with people, but added that follow-up questions usually depended on what was said and how it was said. “Just play it by ear,” she said. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
Jared turned down onto a road and Elizabeth read the name. Victoria Trail. This was on her agenda for tomorrow’s trip.
They pulled up in front of a ranch style house. Two dogs came over to welcome them. Upon seeing them, Elizabeth decided to leave Chevy in the van.
“I don’t see Dad’s truck,” Jared said, as he wheeled up the ramp.
“Does he know we were coming?” She hoped this wasn’t a surprise visit.
“Yes. I phoned him last night. I finally managed to call when Willy wasn’t around so I could talk to him. But I didn’t say the exact time we were going to get here.”
Jared knocked on the door then opened it and went in. Elizabeth followed.
“Hello?” Jared yelled.
“In here,” a male voice called back.
They went into the kitchen where a man sat at the table. He had thick, dark hair and bushy eyebrows. He was big and burly and wore a black t-shirt that enhanced his protruding stomach.
Elizabeth surmised that he must be Willy since he was too young to have been Jared’s father. Good, they could ask him some questions alone.
Jared introduced Elizabeth to his half-brother. Willy nodded then turned to Jared. “I see you’re going to carry through with this.”
“Yes, I am and you can’t stop me.”
“Oh, I won’t try to stop you. Just don’t expect much cooperation from me or from Dad.”
“Where is he? He knows I’m coming.”
“He and Susie went into town to buy some groceries and parts for the swather. Susie insisted that she had to get some of your favourite foods for supper tonight.”
Elizabeth didn’t know if she liked the idea of staying for a meal. Then again, once Jared had asked his questions, they might not even be invited.
“I was just on my way out to the deck,” Willy said. He held up a bottle. “You want a beer?”
Both Elizabeth and Jared shook their heads.
“What about a juice or pop then?”
“I’ll have a Pepsi, if you have any,” Elizabeth said.
“Me, too,” Jared added. “But I’ll get them.” He wheeled over to the refrigerator and opened the door. He rummaged around until he found two cans of Pepsi.
When they were settled on the deck Jared handed Willy the photograph. He immediately looked on the back.
“It’s just a hoax,” Willy said, as he passed it back to Jared. “I still don’t think you should be showing it to Dad.”
“Why not?’ Jared asked.
“Because it happened so long ago.”
“A murder is still a murder.” Elizabeth couldn’t help herself.
Willy stared at her. Oops, she thought. A care giver should keep her mouth shut.
If he thought she was out of line, he didn’t say so. “You think this photo with some words pasted on the back carries more weight than a police investigation?” Willy asked, his voice sarcastic.
Elizabeth bit off her retort. She didn’t need to antagonize him the very first day. But she’d already spoken up so she carried on, trying another tactic. “Don’t you think your father should be informed in case whoever sent this to Jared sends it to someone else or even the newspapers?”
Willy stared at her as he raised the bottle of beer to his lips. She saw no resemblance between him and Jared. She wondered what their father looked like.
“He’ll certainly find out if you start asking questions,” Willy said.
“She’s right, though,” Jared said. “Dad needs to know.”
“You do what you want,” Willy said, standing. “But remember that I warned you.” He started off the deck. Elizabeth willed Jared to say something to keep him there.
“Uh, Grandma said that Dad beat Mom,” Jared fumbled. “Do you know anything about that?”
Willy stopped and looked down at his half-brother. “Leave it alone,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. He strode off the deck and over to the barn.
“Well, that didn’t go very well,” Elizabeth said.
“He’s always had a short temper,” Jared said. “Don’t take it personally.”
They had almost finished their drinks when a blue truck drove into the yard and parked near the deck. A man and woman climbed out and began to unload bags of groceries. The woman smiled when she saw Jared. Elizabeth noticed that t
he man didn’t.
“Hello, Jared,” the woman said, giving him a hug with one arm.
“Jared.” The man nodded.
“Susie, Dad, this is Elizabeth Oliver, my care giver.”
Elizabeth stood and shook hands. She saw where Willy got his looks and stature. He was an exact image of Paul. Susie was almost as tall as Paul but very slender with reddish/blonde hair. She looked to be a few years younger than him.
“Come in and talk while we put the groceries away,” Susie said, leading the way into the house.
Elizabeth and Jared followed the two into the kitchen. Susie began removing the groceries from the bags and putting them away. Paul opened the fridge, took out a beer, and sat at the table.
“So what brings you out this way, Jared?” Susie asked. “We haven’t seen you in about three months.”
Willy had come back into the house and was standing by the door, his arms crossed. Jared glanced at Willy then took the photograph from his pocket. He looked down at it a moment before handing it to Paul.
Nothing like getting right to it, Elizabeth thought.
Paul looked at it but never said anything. Susie glanced over his shoulder then went back to her unpacking.
“Look on the back,” Willy said, gruffly.
Paul turned it over and his jaw dropped. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, looking at Jared.
“I don’t know,” Jared said. “I received it in the mail.”
Paul threw the photo on the table. “What kind of a sick mind would send something like that?”
Susie picked up the photo and turned it over. She gasped and quickly dropped it. She looked from Paul to Jared. “Someone sent this to you?”
Jared nodded.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Willy asked.
Elizabeth didn’t like the way he was putting Jared on the spot. He knew what Jared wanted to do. Why didn’t he let Jared tell their father in his own way?
The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set Page 33