The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  “When he talked, did you recognize the voice?”

  “No, I think it’s disguised.

  “Are you sure it’s a he?”

  “No.”

  “Are you married?”

  “My husband and I separated last fall.”

  “Do you think it’s your husband calling you?”

  Christine knew she would be asked this question and she didn’t know how to answer it. She didn’t want to think that Wayne would be making these calls. She didn’t want to even insinuate that he might be.

  “I don’t know.” She didn’t dare mention Ben

  “Was your separation friendly?”

  “We discussed it, if that’s what you mean. Then I moved out.”

  “How did he take that?”

  “He wants us to get back together.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No.”

  “And yet you don’t think he’s making these calls?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where does he live?”

  Christine explained how to get to the farm while he wrote down the directions.

  “Can you do something to stop the calls?” she asked.

  “We usually advise women in this situation to get an unlisted number and then not tell it to anyone.”

  Christine had a thought. “Is this happening to other women?”

  “It could be. Sometimes a caller will phone a number of women but not all of them will contact us.”

  “Has anyone else complained recently?”

  “No.”

  “So what can you do?”

  “We’ll go out and visit your husband but we really have nothing to go on. If that person calls again, listen carefully to other noises on the phone. It might give you an idea of where he is calling from. And if he says anything that means something to you, let us know.”

  Christine thanked the officer and left. The first thing she did was get an unlisted number. She didn’t like the idea of the officer talking with Wayne, though. If he was making the calls he certainly wouldn’t admit it and if he wasn’t then that would set him off on a furious tangent.

  It hadn’t taken the police long to contact him or for him to respond with a visit to her.

  “So, I hear you’ve been getting obscene phone calls,” a voice said behind her.

  Christine, turned, startled to see him walking slightly behind her. It was the next day and she was on her way to work after eating her lunch at home. She hadn’t even heard his footsteps. She continued walking.

  “And thank you very much for sending the police out to see me,” Wayne said, striding beside her. “I really enjoy being questioned about my state of mind since the separation and being asked if I’ve ever made a crank call to my wife.”

  Christine could feel Wayne’s anger and she didn’t blame him. She shouldn’t have gone to the police. She should have thought of getting the unlisted number on her own.

  Wayne suddenly grabbed her by the arm and swung her around to face him. “Would you stop walking and talk to me,” he demanded.

  She shook his hand off her arm. “Not here,” she said, looking around to see how many people were watching them.

  “Yes, here. I want to know about those calls and why you think it’s me?”

  “I don’t think it’s you. The police just asked about my husband and I told them we were separated. They’re the ones who went out to see you.”

  “What are they going to do about the calls?”

  “They say there’s nothing they can do, since I don’t recognize the voice. They also said that it could be some guy who calls strange women and that I am the only one who has reported the calls so far.”

  “So it could be some looney who might decide to peek in your window next and then visit you some day.”

  “They didn’t say that.”

  “Well, it makes sense. These guys like to scare women before they rape them.”

  “Are you trying to frighten me?” Christine resumed her walking. She was going to be late.

  “No. I’m trying to make you see that you might not be safe here, that you should come back home.”

  Christine stopped and turned to Wayne. “Are you making those calls to frighten me into returning to the farm?”

  Wayne’s face flushed with anger. “How could you think that of me?” He raised his hand and she jumped back, shocked. Then just as quickly his anger left him. “I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his hand to his side. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “I have to go now.” Christine hurried the last half block to her office. She didn’t look back.

  Chapter 26

  Elizabeth and Jared rose early to get ready to go on her Vegreville, Wainwright, Tofield loop. Breakfast began at seven o’clock and Elizabeth had told Brandon that they would be there at that time. She let Chevy do his morning jaunt and then she and Jared ate.

  Elizabeth wasn’t in any hurry this time. She had Jared with her. Chevy was curled up on the floor mat between them.

  “Head east out of Edmonton on Highway 16,” Elizabeth said into her laptop while Jared drove. “When you turn into Elk Island National Park, watch for wildlife, especially buffalo, which roam freely through the park. If you see one, take your picture from inside your vehicle or just sit and admire it. Do not get out and approach the animal and do not try to feed it.”

  She directed Jared where to turn and soon they were at the parking lot of the visitor information centre. It wasn’t open yet so Jared suggested she and Chevy hike the short trail to a Ukrainian pioneer home while he read some more of Meredith’s poems. The inside of the home was blocked off to the public but she could see the plastered walls and thatched roof. A second trail led to a monument to the plains buffalo which provided food, clothing, and weapons for the first nations’ people and meat (pemmican) for the fur traders and explorers.

  When she returned to the information centre it was open. She found her brochures and went back to the van. While they carried on along Highway 16 Elizabeth read some of the brochures.

  “Hey, listen to this,” Elizabeth said to Jared. “At one time there used to be large herds of elk in Alberta.” She looked at him. “Can you imagine how majestic they must have looked thousands of them loping along with their huge antlers held high in the air?”

  “That would have been a great picture,” Jared agreed.

  “This park was formed to protect the elk.”

  “So how come there are buffalo here?” Jared asked.

  “Some buffalo were lodged here temporarily while Buffalo National Park was fenced for them at Wainwright. When they were moved, some got left behind.”

  “Oh, look,” Jared exclaimed, braking. “Speaking of buffalo.”

  Elizabeth looked up as a large, shaggy buffalo crossed the road in front of them. While Chevy growled at the animal she sat and stared at it then grabbed her camera and leaned out her window to take a picture, remembering her own advice about not getting out of her vehicle.

  When they reached the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village, Jared decided to get out too. “This is part of my heritage and I’ve never been here,” he said.

  “You have to stay here for this one,” Elizabeth told Chevy, as she gathered up her camera and tape recorder.

  “Yeah, she’s taking me this time,” Jared said.

  Elizabeth patted Chevy on his head then went and paid their entrance fee. They began their tour of the over thirty old buildings that had been moved onto the grounds.

  “So, tell me what you learned in your research about this place,” Jared said.

  “This village was started by a group of Albertans to preserve their Ukrainian heritage and the provincial government purchased the restored settlement a few years later. It’s now one of Alberta’s largest historical sites.”

  “Hey, this is great,” Jared grinned. “I have my own personal tour guide.”

  They walked through the site and talked with the interpreters at each bu
ilding who were dressed in period clothing that represented the time when the building was actually used. They also answered any questions as they would in the year they were portraying. If the year is 1919, the events of that year were what they discussed. If Elizabeth mentioned anything that took place later in history, they had no knowledge of it.

  “This feels like we’ve taken a step back in time,” Jared said.

  For the most part Jared was able to wheel everywhere and Elizabeth made a note of that. She also noted that there was so much to see that she could spend the whole day here if she wished to. The readers could determine if they wanted to make this place a day trip then do the rest of the tour on another day.

  “We have to stop in and buy some Mundare sausage,” Elizabeth said, when they were on the road again. “I remember when Dad returned from a trip to Saskatchewan and brought home some Mundare sausage. We all loved it and ever since, when one of the family is in the area they bring back some sausage.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jared said. “I’m getting a little hungry.”

  They first stopped in at the Basilian Father’s Museum where Elizabeth took pictures of some displays then they went into Stawinchy’s Meat. At the small deli, Jared picked out some pepperoni while Elizabeth bought turkey sausage. They went out to share with Chevy then Elizabeth took pictures of the world’s largest sausage before leaving town.

  “You know,” Jared said. “I remember Mom making her own sausages.”

  “You do? That’s so cool. How did she do it?”

  Jared thought a moment. “She cut pieces of meat really small, mixed in some spices and then she’d dump a bunch into her hand grinder which she bolted to the table. She put a length of sheep’s gut on the nozzle and while she cranked the handle I held the sheep’s gut for the sausage to come out into.” Jared laughed. “When we had a couple of lengths, she’d fry them up for us to eat. They tasted so good.”

  “Have you seen the Pysanka at Vegreville?” Elizabeth asked Jared, as they entered the town.

  Jared shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He followed Elizabeth’s directions to where the giant Easter egg overlooked the Vegreville Elks/Kinsmen Community Park. “I’ll just go into the visitor information centre and gather what I can about the area while you get unloaded,” Elizabeth said.

  “Can’t you find all this on the Internet?” Jared asked.

  “Going on the Internet is okay but I’ve learned that talking with people is the best way to find out the little things.” Elizabeth grinned. “Except for the time I went in and asked what there was to see and do around this one town and the young girl behind the counter replied. ‘There’s nothing to see and do around here.’”

  Once Elizabeth had her information she met Jared and they headed over to the Pysanka suspended on its pedestal.

  “You know,” Jared said. “I have been here before.”

  “With your mom?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No, I think it was with Dad.”

  “Your dad?” Elizabeth couldn’t keep the astonishment from her voice.

  “Doesn’t sound like him, does it? But there were other people with us so maybe we had company and he brought them here.

  After stopping at the provincial park in Vermilion so that Elizabeth could walk some of the trails and Chevy could have a run, they headed to Wainwright. Elizabeth sat back in her seat as Jared pulled out of the parking area. Oh, it felt wonderful to have Jared along with her. If she’d realized how much fun it would be she’d have invited him on the other two trips.

  Chapter 27

  Christine’s Story

  The longer Christine lived alone, the more she grew to like it. Her home was cozy and just the right size for her. She only had a five minute walk to work instead of a twenty minute drive. It didn’t matter if it was snowing, blowing, or raining she didn’t have to worry about being on the highway in bad weather conditions.

  She also found she liked her solitude. She had wondered if she would, having married right out of high school and going from her parents’ home to her and Wayne’s home. And she had freedom. She only had to cook for one, do laundry for one, clean up after one, and she didn’t have to account to anyone for whatever she decided to do.

  When Christine heard the knock at her door her first reaction was to not answer it. She wanted to work on her course, had to work on it. She didn’t have time for Wayne’s visits, which were becoming more frequent. Sometimes he was waiting for her when she got home, sometimes he came knocking after supper. She’d lost count of how many pointless conversations they’d had by now.

  Christine didn’t want to invite him in. All the arguments, all the pleadings were beginning to consume her energy, leaving little left over for her job or her course. She didn’t want to talk with him anymore. She opened the door but kept the chain on. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “Yes, there is. There’s lots to say. May I come in?”

  Against her better judgement Christine undid the chain and stood back. She would not offer him coffee, though.

  “Did you find out who was making those phone calls?” Wayne asked, sitting at the table.

  “Yes, one of the men at work asked what happened to my phone.” Christine sat also. “Since he had never called me before I knew it was him.”

  “Which one is he?” Wayne demanded. “I’ll go have a chat with him.”

  “I already complained to my boss and he was fired.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  She shrugged in response.

  “So you’re not going to tell me?” he insisted.

  Christine shook her head.

  “I am just so miserable without you.” Wayne reached out to take her hand.

  “Nothing lasts forever.” She pulled her hands back and set them on her lap.

  He stared at her. “How can you be like this? So cold, so distant? What have I done that is so terrible to make you treat me this way?

  “You’ve done nothing wrong.” She kept all emotion out of her voice.

  “Then why are you treating me as if we’re suddenly strangers. Didn’t I mean anything to you over the years?”

  I’m trying to make you see that I am not going to change my mind, Christine wanted to say. And if necessary I will try to make you hate me, so you will leave me alone. “Yes, you did. You still do in a certain way.”

  “In what way?” Wayne’s voice was suddenly bitter. “As the chump who supported you all these years. As the guy who busted his butt to pay off the farm so you wouldn’t have to work.”

  “I worked hard for that farm, too.” Christine said, quietly.

  “Are you comparing sitting at a desk to working in the field, to hauling bales, to feeding the cows in the winter?”

  Christine didn’t reply. She wasn’t about to argue over that. It had no relevance to her leaving.

  “Are you going for a divorce?” Wayne suddenly asked.

  “I’m thinking of it.”

  “If you do, don’t expect any money from me.”

  “I don’t want your money. I’ve got money of my own.” Since she’d started work she’d been putting a little of her earnings into an account in her name only. At first she’d done it to save for the china cabinet she’d wanted but over the years she’d realized it was for her future.

  “And you don’t get any of the farm.”

  “It’s all yours.”

  Wayne suddenly looked confused, lost. “I’m the man. I’m supposed to be in charge, to support you. You’re my wife. You’re supposed to stick by me and help me.”

  “I have for twenty-five years. How much more do you want?”

  “I want you to be with me for the rest of my life.”

  “And what about my wants?”

  “I always thought they were the same as mine.”

  “They used to be. They’re not now.”

  Wayne shook his head. “Are you really going to walk away from me and the farm?”

  “Yes.”
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  “I don’t understand it. I really don’t understand it. How can you do it?”

  “You know how strongly you want to farm, how deep your desire is to increase your herd. Well, that is how strong my desire is to travel and my need to leave here.”

  “But, women aren’t....”

  “Women aren’t what? Aren’t supposed to have desires, aren’t supposed to want to do something different from their husbands.”

  “My mother never wanted to leave the farm. She was content where she was.”

  “That was your mother. I’m me and I want more.” Christine stood. This had gone on long enough. She was tired of explaining. “I think you’d better leave.”

  Wayne walked slowly to the door. He turned and looked at her. “I still don’t understand.”

  It was after ten o’clock when Christine moved the curtain slightly and peeked out the living room window. The truck was still there, across the road, and she could see his outline in the driver’s seat. He’d been sitting there for over an hour watching her house.

  Had he parked out there on other evenings? Had he spent hours watching her move around in her house until she closed the drapes before going to bed? This was the first time she’d noticed him but maybe not the first time he’d been there. She didn’t know what to do. She’d thought about calling the police but decided against it. She knew what they would say. It was a free country and he had a right to park wherever he wanted.

  She let the curtain fall back in place and resumed the pacing she had begun when she first noticed him. How had this whole thing gotten so far out of control? How had it gone from her wanting to leave, to phone calls and angry visits? All she had wanted to do was make a change in her life. She hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, in fact part of the reason she was doing it was to prevent the people she loved from getting hurt.

  Christine looked out again. In the glow of the streetlight she could see exhaust coming out the tailpipe. He’d started the truck. Maybe this time he would be going home instead of just warming the cab up. But no, he wasn’t. The truck ran for a few minutes then he shut it off.