A Green Place for Dying

by R. J. Harlick

  I was mesmerized watching the water sluice over the rocks far below. I could feel its pull drawing me downward. I tried to imagine what it would feel like floating on the fast smoothness and wondered how long it would it take for me to reach the chute further downstream. Would I fall through the mist into a crystal clear pool, or would I hit rocks?

  I could feel myself leaning further forward. The smooth racing green far below looked so enticing. I could get lost in its crystal coolness.

  Without warning, I was jerked backwards away from the edge.

  “You shouldn’t get so close,” a voice said. “You could fall.”

  I turned around to find myself staring into Marie-Claude’s worried face.

  I burped. “Whoops, sorry.”

  I placed my hand on the ground to steady myself. It slipped. I started to fall backwards. Next I knew I was being dragged from the edge as my head bumped over the hard granite.

  “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” Marie-Claude said without expressing any of Teht’aa’s disgust.

  I gingerly sat up and massaged my sore head. I was now a good couple of metres from the drop-off. As I tried to tame the whirlies whizzing around my head, I nodded guiltily, feeling very embarrassed. “I’m sorry you had to find me like this. Please realize I don’t mean any disrespect to you or your daughter.”

  “I’d heard you had a drinking problem.” Marie Claude dropped to the uneven lichen-covered rock at the canyon’s edge. “But I thought you’d stopped.”

  While doing my best to avoid looking directly into her eyes, I mumbled something about being able to stop any time. I glanced around in case Teht’aa had arrived in time to see my shameful behaviour. The forest was eerily empty but for a blue jay high on a pine branch squawking at our intrusion. A sudden gust of wind and rain sent a phalanx of dead needles hurtling to the ground. Several jabbed me. I brushed a clump of soggy hair from my eyes.

  I debated telling Marie-Claude about the shoe I’d found but decided it would be better if Will raised it with her. Although Fleur didn’t seem the kind of girl to wear such a sexy shoe, I didn’t want to cause her mother unnecessary worry before she actually had it in her hands. Only then would we know for certain whether it belonged to Fleur.

  The spectre of her missing daughter hung heavily between us. Feeling incapable of providing any false encouragement, I lapsed into silence, as did she. Above the noise of the river, I could hear the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing along with an occasional sigh. I was feeling decidedly damp and cold. Marie-Claude, I’d noticed, had come fully equipped with the appropriate rain gear, although her jacket was open, the front of her sweatshirt wet. My dizziness was starting to fade. I was beginning to feel a little more normal, but I was shivering. I sneezed.

  “Mon dieu, you will be sick,” she whispered. “Here, take this. I don’t need it.”

  She started to remove her jacket.

  I hastily stopped her. “Please, I’m fine. My clothes are mostly synthetic. They’ll dry quickly.”

  She smiled fleetingly then turned her gaze back to the gorge. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  “A little too pretty and too hypnotic. Watch yourself,” I warned.

  She nodded absently and turned her attention back to the chasm.

  I assumed that we were close to the parking lot, but when I glanced around at the surrounding forest, I didn’t see or hear anything suggesting it was nearby. In fact, there was no sign of a trail, not even an indentation through the carpet of dead pine needles.

  “How did you get here?” I asked.

  A wisp of blonde hair trickled out from under her hood. When she didn’t respond, I thought she hadn’t heard me. But before I could repeat the question, she raised her head. Instead of looking at me, she stared across at the line of pine on the other side of the gorge.

  “I walked,” was her soft reply.

  “Sorry, I didn’t phrase that very well. What I meant to ask was whether you knew the way back to the parking lot.”

  She turned around and pointed vaguely in a direction behind my back. As she did so, I noticed that her eyes were red from crying.

  “Are you okay?” I asked hastily, feeling guilty that I was putting my troubles before hers.

  She nodded listlessly and returned her gaze to the tumbling river below.

  “Why are you here? Wouldn’t it be better to wait in the parking lot?”

  She shook her head as the tears started spilling from her eyes. She whispered something.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

  The anguish that washed over her face sent a chill down my spine. I leaned forward to catch her answer.

  “My fault … all my fault.”

  She turned her focus back to the river. As she did, she seemed to lean closer to the precipice.

  “Please come away. You’re making me nervous.” I readied myself to grab her as she had done with me.

  At that moment an arm reached over my head and held her.

  “Come, Marie-Claude, we have to go back to the car,” her husband ordered.

  I scrambled to get out of the way as he pulled her from the edge. Without acknowledging my presence, he gripped her arm and propelled her in front of him. Only then did I see the vague trail through the pine. I followed a discreet distance behind.

  After they were safely away from the river, he released his hold on his wife and wiped his hand on his jeans, as if removing dirt. But when his hand passed close to my face, it had looked pristine to me.

  Chapter

  Nine

  Not once during the twenty-minute hike to the parking lot did I see Jeff comfort his wife, despite her obvious distress. Instead he remained several paces behind her as she walked haltingly with her back hunched, her head bowed more like a woman of eighty than one closer to forty. He didn’t even offer a helping hand when she stumbled and almost fell. And he completely ignored my presence. Nor did he give me a glance when he hustled Marie-Claude into the backseat of the police chief’s SUV and clicked the door shut.

  It was as if the scene above the river had never happened, as if he didn’t want to admit what we’d both witnessed. Instinct told me that Marie-Claude’s near fall into the gorge hadn’t been caused by an accidental loss of balance, but by a death wish.

  When I called out to ask how she was doing, he continued to ignore me, although he did acknowledge me with a scowl as he climbed into the other side of the vehicle. He slammed the door with a resounding thud that caused people milling near the buses to glance over.

  The police chief must’ve also heard the sound, for he broke away from the command post where he’d been talking to the SAR commander and strode over to his vehicle. After several minutes of conversation through the partially open back door, he closed it again, his face set in grim determination.

  “Is she okay?” I called out as I walked up to him.

  “Jeff says she’s fine, but she didn’t look good to me. I’m gonna get Patrolman Smith to drive her home. Marie-Claude shouldn’t have come. This has been too hard on her.”

  I agreed but hesitated revealing what had just taken place at the gorge. If Jeff hadn’t told him, then perhaps I shouldn’t either. Instead I suggested, “I can go back with her, if Jeff wants to stay.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Nope. I’m wet and cold and don’t feel like hanging around here any longer.”

  I didn’t want to tell him that there was no way I was going to return in the same car as Teht’aa. She’d either sit there in stony, reproving silence or give me a lecture.

  He stuck his head back through the open door, but within seconds he closed it again. “Jeff says he’d better stay with her. But I don’t see any reason why you can’t go with them. You might as well get in the car, while I go get Sarah.”

  I saw his nostrils twitch and his lips firm in disapproval as his hand reached inside his pocket. He pulled out a handful of candy mints. “You better chew on these. You smell like my jail on a Saturday
night.”

  Without another word, he headed off in search of the young policewoman.

  Shit. Now I had Will mad at me. But at least he hadn’t given me a lecture.

  I knew my bladder wouldn’t last the long drive back to Migiskan, so I headed off to the porta-potty. But by the time I returned, the MPD SUV was gone.

  Damn, now I’d have to go with Teht’aa. Unless … I glanced over to the entrance of the parking lot, where Will was engrossed in a conversation with one of the SQ cops. He would probably drive Sarah’s police cruiser home. I’d beg a ride with him.

  I was feeling decidedly fragile. My head ached and I trembled from head to foot from the dampness and the cold. It was nothing that another nip of vodka couldn’t remedy. But I wasn’t going to go there. Besides, my supplier was still in the bush. So I helped myself to a steaming cup of coffee and a donut and retreated to a nearby picnic table to wait for Will.

  The rain, thank God, had stopped and the sun was trying to squeeze through the clouds. But the wind had risen and was whipping the forest canopy into a frenetic uproar. Leaves and pine needles swirled around me. I zipped my fleece up to my chin and stuck my hands in my pockets. I watched a gust grab one end of the command post tent, but a couple of people managed to catch it before it toppled over.

  With more people emerging from the forest, it looked as if the search was winding down. Although I didn’t see anyone from my team, I did see Marie-Claude’s biker brother sauntering over to the coffee van, creating a wave as people hastened to get out of his path. I wanted to leave before Teht’aa made an appearance, but felt I couldn’t interrupt Will’s conversation, which didn’t appear to be going well. Both men stood with their feet spread, arms crossed and their chins jutting out in an up-yours stance. I did, however, notice the MPD cruiser that Sarah must’ve driven. Will probably wouldn’t mind if I waited for him there. I popped one of his breath mints into my mouth and headed over to the car.

  The coffee had helped to clear my mind, but it hadn’t done enough to prevent me from colliding with Marie-Claude’s brother as I strode towards the cruiser.

  “Câlisse! Watch where you’re going!” he snarled in French. Then perhaps remembering me from his sister’s house, he switched to English, “Sorry, my problem.”

  “No, it was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  He waved away my excuse with a dismissive flick of his hand. “You friend of my sister, non?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You seen her today, talked to her?”

  “For a few minutes,” I answered warily.

  “How she doing? That bastard won’t let me near her.”

  “She’s going through a tough time.”

  “She always have tough time with that maudit chien sale.”

  I tried to ignore the biker leathers, the tattoos covering his neck, and the jagged scar streaking from under the black eye patch. Instead I concentrated on his uncovered eye, which seemed to be pouring out genuine sympathy and concern for a loved sister.

  I decided to tell him what I’d witnessed and finished by saying, “I don’t know whether she meant to kill herself or whether she was just feeling faint. But she’s blaming herself for something. I think it’s her daughter’s disappearance.”

  “More like the fault of that maudit bâtard.”

  “You think Jeff is responsible?”

  “Tabernac, he keeps them in a prison. Won’t let Fleur go on a date. She’s a young girl. She like boys. She want to be with them, but that bastard won’t let her.”

  “Maybe he’s worried about her getting involved with the wrong crowd.”

  “On a fuckin’ reserve?”

  “Believe it or not, there is a gang of kids heavily into drugs. Maybe Jeff wants to keep her away from them?”

  He spat on the ground. “You gotta cut kids loose. Let ’em find their way. Fleur is a good kid. She know to stay outta trouble.”

  “Maybe going to Ottawa was just a little too much freedom, particularly if she’d led as sheltered a life as you’re suggesting. I talked to a woman today from Ottawa. She saw Fleur just before she disappeared. She seemed to think that Fleur had become a prostitute.”

  He spat again. “No fuckin’ way. I tell ya, she a good Catholic girl. I know whores. Fleur ain’t no whore.” He craned his neck around. “Show me the woman? I make her tell the truth.”

  He pulled at his knuckles as if preparing for a fight. Although I felt Claire was brash enough to handle him, I wasn’t about to inflict him on her. Fortunately the arrival of the SQ policeman saved me.

  “Your kind isn’t wanted here,” the cop said in French and began herding J.P. towards his bike.

  “But he’s the brother of the missing girl,” I called out. “He wants to find her as much as we do.”

  “Yeah, more like he had a hand in her disappearance, ain’t that right, bro? Bet if we dig deep enough, we’ll find your brothers’ shit all over this case.”

  J.P. gave a philosophical Gallic shrug as if to say, “C’est la vie,” clamped his Nazi helmet onto his head, and kicked his bike into action. We all watched his bike, with its streamers flying horizontally, roar out of the parking lot and onto the main road. I sensed a collective sigh of relief at its departure.

  Decontie, his brow furrowed, his lips compressed into a thin line, walked towards me.

  “What’s up? You don’t look too happy.” From the corner of my eye I could see Teht’aa sipping coffee at the command post.

  “I’m not. The SQ are closing their case on Fleur. Or more correctly, they aren’t going to open one.”

  “Why not?”

  “Simple. No evidence was found that places her in the province of Quebec after her disappearance.”

  “What about the shoe I found?”

  “Jeff’s certain it doesn’t belong to his daughter.”

  “But surely that’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, it is, but we need the SQ looking into her case. Just because nothing of hers was found here, it doesn’t rule out the possibility that she’s somewhere else in Gatineau. But they refuse to do any kind of a follow-up.”

  I watched Teht’aa throw her empty cup into a garbage can and signal Wendy and her husband to go to the Jeep. She started walking towards Will and me. It was too late to hide behind his bulk. Her eyes were already riveted on me.

  “What about Becky’s case? The shoes could belong to her.”

  “True, and they said they were gonna run them by her mother, but if she doesn’t recognize them, they can’t be ruled out without forensics having a go at them, and that ain’t gonna happen any time soon. According to the sergeant, Major Crimes is up to its eyeballs in a high-profile case.”

  “But surely solving Becky’s murder is just as important?”

  “Hrmph. What’s the rush? She’s just another murdered native woman. Her case can be handled anytime.”

  Will had reached his limit. I’d never heard him voice such cynicism.

  “But they must be doing something. That SQ cop mentioned the possibility of bikers being involved.”

  “Who knows? He wouldn’t discuss the case with me. Becky’s Cree and not from the Migiskan reserve, he said. Therefore she ain’t none of my business. That bastard. If he wasn’t a fellow cop, I’d take him on.” He shoved his police cap further back on his head. “But if there is a prostitution angle to this, then biker gangs could very well be involved. In Quebec, they have their fingers pretty much into anything illegal, drugs, prostitution, arms dealing, you name it.”

  “I guess not finding any evidence for Fleur also means the Ottawa police won’t ramp up their case either?” I said.

  He formed his fingers into a gun and fired at me. “Dead on, but I’m gonna see what I can do to get it moving.”

  At that point, Teht’aa arrived. Pursing her lips, she said, “You coming with me? I’m leaving now.”

  Before I had a chance to come up with a good answer, Will inter
vened. “If you don’t mind, Teht’aa, I’m going to take Meg with me. There’s something I want to discuss with her, okay?”

  As she walked away without so much as a goodbye, I gave Will my grateful thanks.

  He smiled sheepishly. “I could tell that woman was on a mission. I figured you didn’t want to listen to her go on about the evils of drink. I tell you nothing is worse than a reformed addict, even if her addiction was drugs and not alcohol. Besides, I figure you know what you’re doing. Today was a minor setback. I don’t see you going back down that road again.”

  He paused as if not sure he should go on. Then he continued, “That’s what I believe … and so does Eric….”

  He paused again and looked me straight in the eye. “You know, he still thinks highly of you.”

  Chapter

  Ten

  I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. How dare Eric discuss me with Will, with anyone. What went on between us was our own private affair. I breathed deeply. I didn’t know how to respond. A red squirrel scolding from a nearby branch expressed my sentiments exactly. But I knew I couldn’t lash out at Will. He was only Eric’s unwitting messenger.

  I took another deep breath before turning back. “Well, he has a funny way of showing it. If Eric thinks so highly of me, why hasn’t he called?”

  Clearly embarrassed, Will removed his police cap and ran his fingers through his bristly brush-cut. “I guess I opened my big mouth, eh?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you in the middle, but it upsets me having Eric talk about me behind my back.”

  “Look, Meg, I know I’m not one to speak, after all I’m not exactly batting a thousand when it comes to relationships with women.”

  He had a point. He was currently on his third marriage, and according to Teht’aa, it was floundering.

  He shuffled his feet then looked me straight in the eye. “But if I could offer some words of advice. It’s time for the both of you to stop the bullshit. The two of you have backed yourselves into your high and mighty corners and refuse to budge. Sure, you probably have good reasons for waiting for him to make the first move, the same way he’s convinced it’s up to you.