Shallow End

by Brenda Chapman

  “I wanted to call Children’s Aid to get Dawn back when it first happened, but Kala wouldn’t hear of it.”

  “She’s used to working things out on her own.”

  “Her strength and her weakness.” Rouleau took another sip of coffee, grimaced, and set the cup on the desk. “She’s gotten quiet again, have you noticed? It’s like she’s rudderless.”

  Gundersund thought that Rouleau had gotten it right. If it wasn’t for Stonechild’s focus on the Devon Eton case, she’d be lost. “I’m keeping an eye on her,” he said.

  Rouleau nodded. “Good. I feel like I’m letting her down these days, but I’m swamped in paperwork and meetings. Keep on top of what she’s up to and I’ll sleep easier.”

  Not to mention working through the death of the woman he loved most in the world. Gundersund knew the toll Frances’s death had taken even though Rouleau kept silent about his grief. “Sharing isn’t her default, but she’s coming around.”

  He wished he had more confidence in his words than he did. He had the uneasy feeling that Stonechild was working this case without him. Despite her assurances, she’d gotten secretive and was as withdrawn as when he’d first met her. He picked up his mug and stood. “I think I’ll go make that phone call now. Time to get an update on Stonechild’s latest research project … and to find out exactly what it is she’s been working on.”

  Kala parked her truck on Regent a block down from Jane Thompson’s building. She punched in the number for the apartment directly under Jane’s and waited impatiently for one of the students to buzz her in. A skinny long-haired boy with no shirt on opened the door and she walked past him into the foyer. A blast of Foo Fighters filled the hallway. “The Pretender.” She’d played the song over and over in her tape deck while driving in the backwoods of northwestern Ontario the summer of 2010. It brought back fond memories of ink black sky and endless pine trees. She held up her police badge and the kid raised both hands as if surrendering before shutting his door.

  She took the steps two at a time and rapped hard on Jane’s door. When she was certain that nobody was inside, she pulled out a metal pick that she kept in the inside pocket of her leather jacket and worked the lock. The satisfying click took only a few seconds.

  She stepped inside and made a silent walk through the small space. She was relieved to see Jane’s few possessions still in place, her towel and face cloth hanging on the towel rack in the bathroom, shampoo and soap on the side of the tub, a couple of shirts hanging in the closet, underwear in the ancient chest of drawers. The single bed looked lumpy, and the faded blue blanket covering it had a hole dead centre that revealed a greyish sheet underneath. Kala was reminded of a prison cell, the furnishings so min-

  imal and utilitarian. How did you survive the fall from grace to land in this depressing existence? Passing by the bedroom window, Kala looked out at the empty yard below. If Jane had come here after work, she’d have left by her secret exit. She might still be on foot, maybe waiting at a nearby bus stop.

  Kala closed the apartment door and sprinted down the stairs to her truck. She’d cruise the neighbourhood before calling this in. Maybe she was overreacting, but her gut told her probably not. She tried to put herself in Jane’s place, a woman who’d been a respected teacher with a successful husband and two kids, living in a decent home. What would losing all that do to a person? How far would someone go to try to get some of that life back? Especially a woman like Jane: intelligent, beautiful, and increasingly desperate … with absolutely nothing left to lose. Even her kids had been taken from her.

  Jane wasn’t anywhere to be seen as Kala drove slowly up one street and down the next. She decided to head onto Princess and check in the window of the nearby coffee shop. She was at the intersection, preparing to turn right, when she checked her passenger side mirror and saw a short-haired blond head ducking into the front seat of a silver car angle parked. Kala hesitated but a car pulled up behind her and she had to make the turn. She weighed the odds and immediately disregarded the blonde when she remembered that Jane didn’t own a car nor could she afford one.

  Kala checked the sidewalk on both sides of the street as she drove, ignoring the driver riding her tail who was trying to make her speed up. She pulled left into the Tim Hortons and the driver leaned on his horn as he sped away. She ignored him and drove slowly past the plate glass window, taking a long look inside, but there was no sign of Jane.

  Back on Princess, Kala had to make a decision. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. What was she missing? What would she do in Jane’s shoes? Then it struck her. Jane was likely doing the same thing that she’d been doing after Dawn had been taken from her. Going to stand outside her kids’ school. Trying for a glimpse of them, seeking some assurance that they were doing okay. In Jane’s place, she’d be heading to Calvin Park School if she was finally free of a tail and wouldn’t be hauled in for violating parole. Kala knew that one of the conditions of Jane’s release was that she leave her family alone. She couldn’t initiate contact with her children, and Adam had to agree to any visitation. As far as Kala knew, he hadn’t. This must be driving Jane crazy, because if nothing else, everyone who’d known Jane had given her good grades as a mother. Every last one of the witnesses at her trial, including her husband, Adam, had voiced surprise at the double life she’d been leading precisely because she’d appeared such a loving and good mother. A child psychologist had interviewed Ben and Olivia, aged eight and four at the time of her arrest, and found them to be well adjusted and happy. No abuse detected.

  She drove slowly, checking side streets as she went, taking Roden Street north until it merged into Norman Rogers Drive. Stopped at the Van Order Drive intersection, she checked her watch. She could see the school set back from the road, but classes were still in. There was little activity on the street except for an elderly man in a green army jacket walking two dachshunds on leads and a couple of kids standing a block away on the same side of the street as the school. She looked back in time to catch the tail end of a silver Mazda driving past her heading toward the school. It looked familiar, but then all silver Mazdas look alike. She turned right in the same direction and pulled over to the curb directly across from the school to answer her cellphone.

  “Hey Gundersund. How’d the interview go?” She watched the silver car slow and pull over to the side of the road where the children were standing. “Yeah, I figured he wouldn’t say anything. No, I’ve still got one more thing to do and then I’ll be in.” The car doors swung open and the kids got into the car, the girl scrambling into the back and the boy sliding into the front. Something about the boy looked familiar. “Gundersund? I’ve got to go. Can I call you back? Sure. Thanks.” She tossed the phone onto the seat and put the truck into gear. The Mazda was turning left onto a side street. She hurried to catch up but kept some distance, still not certain that she’d seen Ben and Olivia Thompson getting into the car and unclear who was driving.

  The side street was MacPherson, a short, straight road heading east that ended at Sir John A. Macdonald Boulevard. The Mazda turned south onto Macdonald. Kala had no trouble following at a distance since this was a major roadway. She sped up once to get close enough to read the licence plate before falling back. The rear window was lightly tinted, preventing her from being able to identify the driver or passengers. She was content to keep pace for a while since this route was roughly heading toward the station.

  Jane Thompson had left work early and wasn’t in her apartment. Could she have gotten her hands on a car? Kala considered this and realized that it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Jane’s sister might have lent her a vehicle. If Jane was at the wheel and had stopped by the school to pick up her kids mid-afternoon, she was going around the court order to see them. They obviously had gotten out of class early and were waiting for whoever was driving the car. Maybe Naomi had left class early and picked them up. They weren’t heading in the direction of
the Thompson house, though. Perhaps they were meeting Mitchell or going to an after-school activity. Kala kept following, not too closely but always with the silver Mazda in her sightline. The car passed Richardson Stadium on Queen’s campus, crossed Union Street West before turning left onto King. The car was picking up speed.

  Kala stayed back but decided to follow until they parked and she could see who got out. Lake Ontario was restless and choppy with the thick cloud cover making the water a dull slate grey. The oak and willow trees swayed in the wind blowing in off the lake. The wind and rain had removed most of the autumn leaves from the trees and they lay a thick crimson and yellow blanket covering the lawns while the odd cluster of leaves became caught in the breeze and swirled above the ground. Kala had her window down but didn’t smell rain yet. It would be a few hours before the storm hit.

  She passed Murney Tower and Macdonald Park where Devon Eton’s body had been found, and the Kingston Yacht Club with boats moored and bobbing in the water like so many corks on strings. At West Street, the Mazda swung south onto Ontario Street and Kala sped up slightly to keep pace, her heart pounding faster because she knew that Ontario Street turned into Highway 2. When the car passed by Princess and kept going straight past the Wolfe Island ferry dock, her unease went from simmering to full-blown worry. The driver took the bridge across the St. Lawrence River and past the Military College and Kala knew with certainty that the driver was taking the kids out of town.

  She had a decision to make. Give up the chase, which was based on intuition as much as logic, or follow for a bit longer and see if they were stopping somewhere along the highway. She checked her watch again. She was going to be late for work, but what if her instincts were right and those were the Thompson kids in the car? She’d keep going and deal with the rest later.

  After they passed the small communities of Ravensview and Poplar Grove with no sign of stopping, Kala began to wonder where the Mazda was heading in such a hurry. They were driving about ten kilometres over the speed limit — not enough to attract police attention but not wasting any time. This road followed the St. Lawrence and passed by Gananoque on its way to Brockville and Cornwall. There was enough traffic that she could stay back and keep a few cars between her truck and the Mazda.

  The Mazda turned onto the 401 highway at Gananoque and Kala continued following. She decided it was time to pass the car and see who was driving. Pulling into the outside lane, she drove alongside and glanced over. Once, twice. Olivia Thompson was in the back and Ben was in the front passenger seat. Jane Thompson was at the wheel, but luckily she turned her head at that moment to say something to Ben and had her eyes turned away from Kala. Kala hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand.

  Damn it, Jane. You’ve just bought yourself a whole whack of trouble and a prison sentence.

  Kala dropped back and changed lanes so that she was directly behind them. When the Mazda took the Ivy Lea exit, her heart sank. There could only be one explanation. Jane was taking her kids across the border into New York State at the Thousand Island border crossing. She grabbed her cellphone from the seat next to her to call it in. As she fumbled with one hand to turn the phone on, she had a sudden vision of Jane standing in her bedroom window, the lamplight glowing behind her. She was leaning on the window sill, stretching her neck to see the stars above the trees and houses, the expression on her face expectant and hopeful. Kala had found this start-

  ling under the circumstances. No doubt, Jane had been planning this escape and she just might have gotten away if Kala hadn’t set out to track her down.

  Screw it.

  She tossed the phone back onto the seat and waited for a car to pass from the other direction before pulling into the oncoming lane. She drew alongside the Mazda and stayed there until Jane looked over. Kala could see by the dawning recognition and the near panic in her eyes that Jane knew she’d been caught. Before she could accelerate and make a run for it, Kala motioned her to pull over, speeding up and cutting in front of her and pumping the brakes. Jane made the only decision she could and eased the Mazda off the highway onto the shoulder. Kala pulled over several yards in front of her and hopped out of her truck. She ran back and Jane rolled down her window. Kala checked for weapons and didn’t see any. She let her hand fall from her sidearm hidden under her jacket. Since her close call and Bennett’s shooting a few months before, she’d taken to wearing it when away from the station during her working hours.

  “This isn’t going to work, Jane. You have to take them back to Adam.”

  Ben was glaring at Kala and Olivia was wailing in the back seat. Jane had her hands on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead as if she was thinking of how she was going to get them away from Kala and onto the bridge to the States and freedom. When she finally looked at Kala, her brilliant blue eyes were hard and defiant. “I suppose,” she said, but Kala could tell she was still weighing options.

  “We don’t want to go back to my father,” Ben said. “We want to be with my mother.”

  “Mommy! Mommy!” Olivia was screaming from the back seat.

  “Hush, Olive. Officer Stonechild is right, Ben.” She turned toward him. “This isn’t going to work.” She looked back at Kala and spoke quietly so that Ben couldn’t hear. “Am I under arrest?”

  Kala looked at the terror on the kids’ faces. They’d believed they were going to be living with their mother in some new town with a new start. She could understand a child’s simple need to be with their birth mother, no matter what she’d done. What would it do to them when she went back to prison? She looked back at Jane. “Not yet. Not if we get them home now. You’re wanted at the station for questioning tomorrow but not because of this. Disappearing with two children is not as easy as you might think. Do you really want them to lead a life on the run, always looking over their shoulders? Do you want that for Ben and Olivia?”

  Jane slowly shook her head. A sigh heaved upward from her stomach and Kala knew she’d accepted that her run to the border was over. “No. No, I suppose I don’t.”

  “I’ll follow you back. I’ll need to go in with the kids to make sure their absence hasn’t been called in.” Kala took two steps toward her truck.

  “Why? Why are you doing this for me?” Jane asked, her voice rising in a cry above the noise of a passing car.

  Kala stopped and turned to look at her. Jane’s eyes were skeptical, puzzled, challenging Kala for an answer.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Kala said, but she did know. She only had to look at the shattered faces of Ben and Olivia. The images would stay with her for a long time. If Jane had killed Devon, she would pay soon enough. She said, “Maybe, I don’t want your kids to go through any more trauma until they have to.”

  Jane bowed her head in guilt or agreement, Kala wasn’t sure which.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Naomi left Liam’s apartment twenty minutes later than she’d intended. She was surprised at how reluctant she felt to return to her life with Adam. Liam was uncomplicated and easy to make laugh. She didn’t have to pretend to be older or more mature than she was. She’d forgotten how good it was to be herself and not be playing a role.

  She pulled into the driveway and was alarmed to see the house in darkness. Then, she remembered that Ben had sent a message that he was taking Olivia to the library for some after-school program. She hoped they made it home before Adam. He’d have a fit if he knew they were out and about by themselves.

  After turning on a lamp in the living room and the outdoor porch light, she put some OneRepublic on the stereo and set about preparing a simple meal of omelettes and hash browns, dancing around the kitchen to “Love Runs Out” before rummaging through the fridge and pulling out fresh basil, cherry tomatoes, onions and mushrooms, a carton of eggs, and milk. It didn’t take her long to cut up the vege-

  tables as she chopped to the beat. She returned to the fridge for the block of cheddar and g
ot the cheese grater out of the cupboard.

  By the time she’d shredded the cheese and browned the onions for the hash browns, it was going on seven o’clock. She tried Ben’s cell for the second time, but it again went straight to voice mail. She stood at the kitchen window and tapped her fingers on the counter. Where were those kids? Should she get in her car and search for them? She dreaded Adam’s anger if he got home before they did and she couldn’t account for their whereabouts.

  She was trying Ben’s cellphone again when she heard the click of the front door. She checked out the side window and didn’t see Adam’s car in the driveway. “Thank God,” she said under her breath. Ben and Olivia were halfway up the stairs by the time she reached the front entrance. “How was the library?” she called up to them.

  Ben turned at the landing. “Fine.”

  He was in darkness and Naomi reached over and clicked on the light. She looked up the stairs to where he was standing. He was blinking, his eyes bloodshot and bruised-looking but his face was pale. “What’s wrong with you, Ben?” She started toward him, taking the steps two at a time.

  “Nothing’s wrong with me.” He turned to go, but she caught him by the arm. “Have you been crying?”

  “Let me go.”

  “Where were you two?” She knew he’d been up to something. A disturbing thought crossed her mind. “Were you with your mother?”

  His bottom lip trembled.

  “Oh my God, you were!”

  “You can’t tell Dad.”

  “What have you done? Your father is going to kill us all.”

  They both looked down the stairs toward the front door at the same time. It had opened with a bang and Adam was stepping in carrying his gym bag. “I’m home!” He looked up and caught sight of the two of them standing suspended on the landing. He stopped. “What’s going on?”