"And how much would the mothers have received?"
"Probably five to ten thousand dollars."
"So everyone would have been happy with the arrangement, the girls because they received cash, the parents because they had a baby."
"Right."
Elizabeth shut off the television and she and Chevy headed to her vehicle to pick up Sally. She wondered how many baby adoption rings were operating throughout the country.
She was early and waited a few minutes. Soon there were students coming out fumbling in their pockets or purses for their cigarettes. Others hurried to their cars. Sally came over to the Tracker.
"Well, how did your class go today?" Elizabeth asked.
"Better," Sally said. "Everyone was more relaxed. What did you do this morning?"
"Bought groceries and talked with Cynthia. She heard that Penny was the one who was under the house. She has also been spying on Rick and Alison. She still thinks they had something to do with the death."
They drove by John’s house. It still appeared empty. “I wonder if Wendy’s taken him some place until after we are gone.” Sally said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“So are we going to the WildPlay Elements Park?" Sally asked.
"Yes. Let’s just grab a lunch and go."
After they’d eaten a canned salmon sandwich, Elizabeth put Chevy in the vehicle. "There’s lots of shade there and it only takes a couple of hours to do the course," Elizabeth explained.
They handed in their waivers and lined up to step into their harnesses. After the instructions they climbed up the ladder up to the first element, a walk across a narrow wooden bridge. As long as Elizabeth concentrated on crossing the swinging logs or the moving steps and joking and laughing with Sally, she was okay. It was when she had to climb higher up a tree to cross the longest zip line that her fear of heights insinuated itself into her consciousness. She looked down at the ground way below and felt herself freezing. She wasn’t sure if she could go further.
She looked back at the people behind them. She couldn’t go back and there was no way for her to get to the ground. She could let the others go ahead but she couldn’t stay up there all day.
“Are you okay?” Sally asked.
“That’s so far to go and so high up,” Elizabeth said.
“You can do it. Just don’t look down.”
“Too late,” Elizabeth said. She took a deep breath and moved her zip line pulley from her belt to the wire and attached it. She undid one karabiner and hooked it on the line and then did the same with the second. She worked slowly telling herself that she had nothing to fear. She wouldn’t fall.
"I could have just stood on the ground and took pictures," she muttered, as she sat down in the harness. All she had to do was raise her feet and she would be off but every time she went to lift her feet off the platform, her stomach did a flip and her feet wouldn’t move.
“You have to do this,” she whispered to herself. “You can’t let this rule you.” Elizabeth swallowed twice, counted to three, and with a lurch deep in her stomach, finally set off. The ride seemed to take forever. A couple of times her feet swayed to the right and she had to adjust her karabiner to keep them lined up with the painted footprints at the other end. She breathed a sigh of relief when her feet smacked the mat and she grabbed the padded end of the line. Once she had her feet firmly on the platform she felt a surge of power. She’d just conquered her fear again.
She was able to relax and enjoy the rest of the course and they progressed through the ever increasingly difficult sections of swinging logs, zip lines, hanging stirrups, a barrel, and cargo net with abandonment.
"That was fun," Sally said, when they had walked across their last wire and reached the final steps down. "Thanks for waiting until I could do it with you."
“Thank you for your support.”
* * *
Back at the bed and breakfast they had just climbed out of the Tracker when Cynthia ran over.
"I’m so glad you finally got here," Cynthia said. "You have to stop them."
"Stop who?"
"Rick and Alison. I just saw them sneaking boxes into their house. They’re packing and are going to fly the coop now that the police have busted the baby ring."
Elizabeth glanced at Sally. Now what did they do?
"You have to go and catch them in the act," Cynthia said urgently.
Elizabeth put Chevy on his leash and she and Sally headed across the street, Cynthia right behind them. She had no idea of what to do now. She didn’t like the idea of going to Alison and Rick’s place but she couldn’t think of a way to get out of it, short of telling Cynthia that her hiring of Elizabeth was all a fraud.
They climbed the steps and Elizabeth knocked on the door. Rick opened it and stared at them.
"Sorry to bother you," Elizabeth said. "But we noticed that you brought some boxes home and we were wondering if you needed help packing." Boy, that even sounded stupid in her ears but that was all she could think of on such short notice.
Rick stood with his mouth open. It must have sounded stupid to him as well. "Uh, thank you, but we’re doing okay ourselves."
"Who is it?" Alison asked, peering around his shoulder.
"I believe it is the packing committee of Ambassador Crescent," Rick said.
"What?"
"Hi, Alison," Cynthia said. "We’ve come to see if you need help packing."
"How did you know we were packing?" Alison asked.
"I saw you carrying boxes into your house."
"Well, thank you, but we’re capable of doing it by ourselves." Rick began to close the door.
"You both lived in Whistler about two years ago," Elizabeth said. "That would be about the same time that the young woman was murdered across the street."
"What are you talking about?" Alison asked.
"Nothing, but it just seems suspicious that you left here after she died and then came back just before her body was found, almost like you wanted to keep an eye on the investigation."
"What are you suggesting?" Rick demanded. "We had nothing to do with her death."
"Then why did you move back here?" Cynthia asked. “You lived on Fitzsimmons Road North over two years ago.”
Alison and Rick exchanged looks. "So you did recognize us," Alison said.
"Not at first," Cynthia admitted. "Your hair is different and Rick, you’ve lost a few pounds."
"We knew we were taking a chance moving so close to where we’d lived before but when nothing was said we thought we were safe."
"So why did you leave and then why come back?" Elizabeth asked.
"Ah, that’s right," Alison said. "You’re an amateur detective. Are you working on the death of that young girl?"
Elizabeth suspected that Cynthia would know all about investigator/client confidentially. "Yes," she said. "I’m curious about it."
"And because we moved away and then came back, that made you think we had something to do with it."
"I’m sure you have a good reason for it," Elizabeth said, quietly, certain now that she and Cynthia had been wrong.
"And you would like to hear it, I suppose," Alison smiled.
Elizabeth took that as a good sign. "It would put my, and a few others, minds at rest."
"Come in, then, and we’ll tell you."
"Are you sure?" Rick asked.
"I’d rather them know the truth than suspect us of murder."
Elizabeth picked Chevy up and carried him into the house behind Alison and Rick. There were taped boxes labelled with the words kitchen or den on them piled in one corner and a bunch of empty boxes waiting for be filled.
Elizabeth took a chair closest to the door and noticed that Sally did the same.
"Two and a half years ago we won five point six million dollars in the lottery. We decided not to cash it in or tell anyone, not even our children, about it until we knew exactly what we were going to do with it. So we sold our house here and moved to Kaml
oops. We collected our money, gave our children a share, donated some to charity and gave some to close relatives. Then we decided we wanted to come back here. We bought a lot in a new development and hired a contractor to build us a house. We wanted to be close to keep an eye on the construction so we moved in here until it was completed. It’s now done and we’re packing to move in."
"Why all the secrecy?" Cynthia asked.
"We’ve heard about winners who have be hounded by charities and relatives and friends for money once they win. We didn’t want that to happen."
So these were the lottery winners the woman at the visitor information had talked about. After hearing their story Elizabeth doubted that she would get an interview with them.
"Did you change your names?" Elizabeth asked.
They looked surprised. “No,” Alison said. “Why would we do that?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I just thought that if you were afraid of people finding out about your winnings, you might have.” Boy did that sound lame.
“I’m sure, that after this length of time, we are old news.”
"Thank you for clearing that up," Elizabeth said, standing. "We’ll let you get back to your packing."
"Well, that’s solved," Sally said, when they were out on the street.
"Yes." Cynthia sounded a little disappointed that it was such a nondescript explanation.
"So now our agreement is fulfilled," Elizabeth said.
"You haven’t found out who did kill Penny," Cynthia pointed out.
"You hired me to find out if Alison and Rick had anything to do with Penny’s death, not find the actual killer."
"Okay, I’ll mail a cheque to the SPCA in Squamish tomorrow."
Elizabeth held out her hand. "Our contract is now formally over," she said, as Cynthia shook her hand.
Cynthia started to walk away then turned back. "Could I hire you to find the killer?" she asked.
"It would be a waste of your money," Elizabeth said. "I think the police are close to solving her murder. Besides we’re leaving on Saturday to go home."
"Oh." Was all Cynthia said.
“So what are the chances of meeting two people who have won the lottery in less than a week?” Sally asked, as they entered their suite.
“Probably pretty slim anywhere else, but it makes you wonder how many past winners have bought condo’s or homes here. It is a beautiful, popular resort town.”
Chapter 21
"It’s really bothering me about John and his daughter," Sally said, as they were eating supper. "I can’t, in good conscience, leave here without doing something for him."
"What do you want to do?"
"I found the B.C. Centre for Elder Advocacy Support web site. I then went into the Senior’s Advocacy Information Line which has a toll free number that John can phone between 9:00am and 1:00pm. There is also a Victim’s Services Program which he can access. I would like to get this information to him.”
"That’s going to be tough after yesterday. What if we gave it to both of them, let Wendy know that we are worried about the way she treats him. That might be enough to make her be nicer to him."
"Yes, we could let her know that we will go to the police, or register a complaint with the authorities."
"Okay, it’s still daylight. Let’s go now."
Sally grabbed the paper with the information on it and the two of them walked with Chevy out to the Tracker. Elizabeth pulled into the driveway behind Wendy’s van.
"Oh, this is scary," Sally said, as they climbed out.
"You don’t have to come," Elizabeth said, trying to keep the butterflies quiet in her stomach. She put the leash on Chevy. He was small but his bark would alert someone if something happened.
“I’m not letting you go alone,” Sally said.
"Go away," Wendy said, through the screen door.
"We have some information on elder abuse we would like to give to John," Sally said before Wendy could close the inside door.
"What elder abuse?" Wendy demanded. "Are you threatening me?"
"We just think John should know what resources are out there for him."
"Dad doesn’t need any resources."
"We think that the way you treat him is not healthy for him or for you."
"I don’t care what you think. Now, go away."
"We’ll phone the Victim Services Program ourselves if you don’t let us give John the information."
Wendy looked over her shoulder, then back at them. "Dad’s asleep."
"We’ll wait."
Wendy seemed uncertain as to what to do. “Look, why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”
“We think you are drugging your father. He seems sharp when we talk with him when you are not around. And we only have your word that he has dementia."
Wendy bit her lip. “Is that why you’ve been hassling us, because you think I’m abusing him?”
Sally held her hand up and began counting her fingers. “You try to keep him from talking with us, you hustle him into the house when you do see us talking, you dragged him out of the village even though he wanted to stay, you are giving him drugs that he doesn’t want to take, you are telling terrible lies about him that are cutting him off from the rest of the community. What does that sound like to you?”
“You’ve known us less than a week and yet you judge me just like that.” Wendy snapped her fingers. “Do you know anything about dementia, about how hard it is to look after someone you love as they deal with the disease?”
“We work with people with dementia and Alzheimer,” Sally said. “That’s why we know he doesn’t have the symptoms. His loss of memory and confusion is from the so-called vitamins you give him.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Wendy lowered her voice. “Dad is very sick. He doesn’t know it though. His doctor told me and we decided that it wouldn’t do Dad any good to tell him. Those vitamins are his medicines. They are strong and one of the side effects is that he temporarily loses his memory about what has happened.”
“But don’t you see that you are causing him more harm by making him think things happened when they didn’t or vice versa,” Elizabeth said. “It would be better for him to know the truth. That way he could decide what to do with his life.”
Wendy looked down at her hands. “You don’t know how many times I’ve come close to doing that.” She raised her head. “Thank you for coming, but Dad is in bed for the night.”
Elizabeth and Sally stepped off the veranda and walked to the Tracker. “What do you think?” Elizabeth asked.
“Well, it wasn’t something I expected, but it does explain some things.”
“Yeah, but only some things. It doesn’t explain why she didn’t want him talking with us or why he has to sneak away from her.”
“He did tell us that she’s afraid someone will try to take advantage of him because he has money.”
“But he denies that he makes advances to younger women,” Sally said. “And he knows that she says that about him. To me that’s not dementia or illness. To me that’s direct mental abuse.”
* * *
The next morning Elizabeth and Sally discussed Bonnie’s murder. "If we believe Wendy, we can eliminate the theory that John killed Sylvia because she resisted his advances,” Elizabeth said. “And then neither he nor Wendy murdered Bonnie to keep her quiet about Sylvia’s murder."
“Then we are left with Kat Mac or Michael," Sally said. "Maybe I should confront them this morning about it."
"Not alone," Elizabeth said quickly. "We’ll do it when I pick you up."
Elizabeth dropped Sally off then cleaned the suite and washed some of her clothes. She phoned her dad to forestall his own call, then talked with Paul. Jared was still in the hospital but was making progress. He expected him to be let out by the weekend. Elizabeth was torn. She should be there with him, not spending her time trying to chase down some killer. But she was stuck in Whistler because she couldn’t leave Sally.
At n
oon she drove to pick Sally up hoping that she hadn’t already talked with Kat Mac and Michael. She left Chevy in the vehicle, hurried into the building, and to Sally’s classroom. The door was closed, the class still in session. Elizabeth leaned against the wall and waited.
Eventually the door opened and the students filed out. Some glanced at her, some didn’t even see her. When no more came out, Elizabeth stuck her head around the door and saw Sally standing in front of the teacher’s desk. She entered the room.
Sally introduced her to Kat Mac. “We are looking into Bonnie Stone’s death,” Sally said.
Elizabeth was glad she was getting right to the point. Sometimes that was the best way.
“Why?” Kat Mac asked.
“Because we had promised her that we would help her find out who murdered her cousin, Sylvia, and now we’re wondering if that same person killed Bonnie.”
Kat Mac sighed. “Why do you keep saying that Sylvia was murdered? It was an accident.”
“Bonnie didn’t believe it was and now she’s dead. That makes us think she may have been right.”
“So what does this have to do with me?”
“Sylvia sent Bonnie some texts saying that you liked her manuscript,” Elizabeth said. “Is that true?”
“I don’t remember. That was two years ago and I’ve been busy since then.”
“Did you ever see Sylvia’s manuscript?”
“I really don’t remember. I’ve been teaching this course for years and I’ve read lots of manuscripts.”
“You helped Michael Wolf get published two years ago. He was in the same class as Sylvia.”
“I merely put in a good word for him with the publisher who came to talk with the students. His idea did the rest.”
“Did he have a complete manuscript when he came here?”
Kat Mac stood. “I really don’t understand what these questions have to do with either Sylvia or Bonnie and I’m not going to answer any more.”
“We’ve heard a rumour that you steal student’s ideas and try to get them published,” Elizabeth said. “Is that where your new book came from, a student, say Sylvia, and that’s why she is dead?”
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