by Nancy Hartry
Sirois peered over his half-glasses at him. “Popular wisdom would say yes but I have my doubts.”
“Any update on the pink lighter that was found on the island?” someone shouted.
“Nothing conclusive. Tiny little fingerprints that look like something a twelve-year-old boy might make,” Sirois answered.
“I bet it was Two-Beers. He sure took off in a mighty hurry,” someone else called. Kerry craned her neck around to see who had said that. Aubrey was gone? When? How come she hadn’t known?
“What about the fire in the sauna? We heard something about a rock covering the chimney, forcing sparks back into the false ceiling. Is that true? Seems funny that Two-Beers has gone missing. What’s he got to hide?”
“We’re looking into that, okay?” Harcourt said. “It’s being investigated by security, and if there’s any wrongdoing, we’ll deal with it. If anyone sees Aubrey Falls, send him directly to me, because I want to talk to that boy.”
The men were fidgety and a murmur went through the group. Nobody believed this fire boss would do anything about the sauna fire, because it would be embarrassing for the department to admit on paper that it had nearly started its own wildfire. And as much as they taunted Aubrey, as much as they called him racist names, no one liked the idea that their own crew boss now seemed to be suspect number one.
“Aubrey!”
Kerry’d felt him brush up against her while she was washing coffee cups after the meeting, and she’d recognized his aftershave. She was so tired from doing all Yvette’s work as well as her own that her reflexes were slow. When she turned her head to talk to him, he’d vanished out the side door, but not before slipping something into the back pocket of her shorts. Her gloved hands were deep in soapy, bleachy water so she couldn’t immediately fish it out. Her mind raced, looking for an excuse to leave and read his note.
At about two a.m. Rolf called it a day. He was now bunking in the room next to the girls’ and Matthew flanked the other side, all the better to guard them. Kerry reached for the flashlight behind the door and followed Rolf to the outhouse. She whipped the note out of her pocket.
“Meet me at the washing machines at 2:30 this morning.” Aubrey had drawn a little arrowhead at the bottom of the page. She didn’t have much time.
“Hurry up, Rolf, I’m tired.”
She hustled Rolf up the hill to the trailer, threw on a long T-shirt as a nightie, and flopped on top of her bed. She waited until 2:25 to make sure Rolf was well asleep, then grabbed sweatpants and work boots and carried them outside. When she was fifty feet from the trailer, she put them on and started to run. Would he still be there?
“Aubrey?” she called softly.
“Over here.”
She rounded the laundry building and there he was, a shadow in the doorway. He kicked the door closed behind her and led her to a bench in the pitch-dark. It wasn’t until he kissed her that Kerry knew for sure. This wasn’t Aubrey. Aubrey tasted of cigarettes.
Didier didn’t.
“Let go of me!” she said, shoving him off the bench. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I wanted to see you.” He switched on a flashlight and trained it on the ground at their feet.
“Well, you’ve seen me. I’m tired and I have to get up in two and a half hours.”
“I need to talk to you about Aubrey. Kerry, there’s weird stuff going on, and I need to know if it’s true. I know you and Aubrey talk a lot so I thought maybe you could help me out.”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“Like everybody else, I can’t find him. Do you know where he’s gone? I really need to track him down.”
Kerry wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “And what the hell was that for?”
Didier shrugged. “You looked so cute with your hair all scruffy and your shirt shoved in your pants. I don’t know; it was an impulse. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”
“Well, you can piss right off. You’re not my type.”
“And Aubrey is? You can do way better, Kerry.”
“What the hell, aren’t you supposed to be watching Yvette? You’re not being very professional.”
“You’re right, I have to get back. But you’ll let me know the minute he gets back?”
“Whatever.”
When Kerry got off shift the next afternoon, she headed for the first aid building, where she found a pale Yvette sitting up in bed, hugging her body as if she were trying to keep it together. “Hey, you’re looking good,” Kerry lied. “I brought something to keep you company while you’re in here.” She pulled out her stuffed bear.
“Rover!” Yvette hugged him tight. “Thanks. I wasn’t always like this, you know.”
“Like what?”
“A wuss. Since Papa’s accident, I’m not so aggressive when things are wrong. He’d be ashamed of me for not stinking up for that cat. ‘Take a stand. Doesn’t matter if you’re wrong,’ he’d say. ‘You never go anywhere unless you have the courage to make mistakes.’ ”
“That would be ‘sticking,’ not ‘stinking,’ although some cats do stink. Quit being so serious!” Pathetic. Yvette’s shrinking into herself and I’m feeling farther away from Toronto every day that goes by. “You’ll be back to your old self in no time. I hate to say it, but it’s too quiet in the trailer. I miss our little arguments. They let me know I’m alive. Oops, sorry.”
“That’s okay.” Yvette smiled weakly. “I’ve been thinking that maybe I should tell them the lighter is mine and they could stop searching for me. What’s the use? They’re going to find out. Maybe it’s better to tell them, and admit I don’t know who’s blaming me, and say I didn’t do it.”
“Oh, Yvette, you’re just thinking about this because you’re lying in bed with nothing to do. The consequences could be really bad, you said so yourself. I think we need to try harder to find out what’s going on. What difference will a few more days make? Tell you what—while you’re stuck in here, I’ll step up the investigation.”
“Maybe you’re right. I won’t tell them yet, but soon, because it’s heavy in my mind.” She sighed and shook herself as if she was mustering new courage, and raised her fists like a prize-fighter. “So forget about it for now. You want to go a round?”
Kerry answered by pouncing on her and tickling her, and finally letting Yvette win.
CHAPTER 20
L ater that same day, Kerry was folding tea towels in the laundry shed when Aubrey came up behind her, put his hand on the small of her back, and nuzzled her ear. She threw her arms around his neck.
“I should go away more often,” he said.
Then she remembered and backed away. “Where’ve you been? They’re looking for you.”
Aubrey shrugged. “Who cares? The only thing that’s important to me is the honor of my family. My mother deserves better.”
“I don’t understand.”
He paused before he replied. “As you must know, I’ve never owned a shocking pink Bic lighter. I’m not a firebug. Kerry, you could help me clear my name.”
Kerry was aware that, since Aubrey had become suspect number one, Yvette was less at risk. If she helped Aubrey, she hurt Yvette. But she didn’t believe either of them had had anything to do with setting the fires. Maybe a better way of looking at it was that finding the real arsonist would help both of them. “I’m not promising anything, but what do you want me to do?” she asked.
“Just watch and listen,” he said. “I’ll drop by from time to time and you can tell me what you’ve learned. But there’s something else. You can’t talk to Yvette about this. She has—well, a bad attitude.”
“How can I keep secrets from her? We’re alone together for days and weeks at a time.”
“You’re more resourceful than you know.” Aubrey touched her lips with his thumb, closing off her words and her breath. A long time passed, during which Kerry’s mind raced and her knees felt weak.
“Okay,” she said. “I feel l
ike a total bitch but okay. I won’t tell her I saw you and I’ll keep my eyes open. I’ll try. That’s all I’m promising.”
Aubrey smiled, an eyes, teeth, and ear-wriggling smile just for her. “Out of necessity, you’ll learn how.” Then he kissed the tip of her nose.
“Didier wanted me to tell you he’s looking for you.”
He slid his mouth along her cheekbone and brushed her lips like moth wings. He covered up her eyes. “You didn’t see me.”
She turned her head away. “I don’t want to lie.”
“Come on, Kerry, follow your instincts. Let your mind and heart work like friends—who love and trust each other.” He chucked her under the chin but stopped short of kissing her again. “Trust yourself, Kerry. Take a risk. Tell him I was never here.”
“Yvette, you’re home! Whoa there, girl, what gives with the smoking? I thought we had a deal.”
Yvette took a long drag and blew six linked rings toward the ceiling of the trailer. “Well, that’s a nice homecoming. I’m just blowing smoke signals. Where’ve you been, doing heat leaps?”
Kerry snorted. “Don’t patronize me. To think I actually missed you and I was looking forward to you coming home.”
“Am I irritating you? It’s usually the other way around.” Yvette threw a dirty sock at Kerry’s head.
“What’s eating you?”
Yvette rolled on her back. “I don’t like it when you go off on your own and I don’t know where you are. It scares me. I get to thinking you aren’t coming back.”
Well, there’s a switch. Kerry sat down on the edge of Yvette’s bed. “I’m not going anywhere. Two by two, remember?”
Yvette sniffed the air. “Hmm, musk. So is there something you want to tell me? Where’s your boyfriend these days? I heard he took off and they’re looking for him.”
“They’re looking for you too—the one with the lighter, remember?”
“Piss off.”
“Piss off yourself.”
“I don’t like him. Anyway, did I miss anything while I was away?”
“Are you kidding? Only the bears dancing on the roof of the cookhouse, trying to get in through the window screens. Didn’t you hear Sirois shooting at them in the middle of the night?” Kerry said. “We’ve got to figure out what’s going on here. You didn’t steal a truckload of meat or start a fire and neither did Aubrey. Borrowing your necklace doesn’t make him a thief …”
It was too late to take it back.
“Aubrey took my arrowhead necklace? You’ve known all along and you never told me?”
“Uhh …”
“You know how important that necklace is to me.”
Kerry wished Yvette would fly off hysterically and just hit her. A rational, reasonable Yvette was harder to take.
“Where’s he now?”
“I wish I knew,” said Kerry. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you see where playing social worker got you?”
“Yvette, he’s not like what you think. He’s well educated. He even speaks Spanish.”
“Come on, what do you really know about him?”
“Enough. I think I love him.”
“Get real. Maybe it’s time I asked for a transfer, or just quit.”
“I hope you won’t.” Kerry got up and stood looking out the window. “He asked me not to tell you stuff because you wouldn’t understand. I didn’t want to deceive you but it seemed easier.”
“For whom?”
“What would have changed if I’d told you about the necklace, now that Aubrey is gone? I’d hoped to get the thing back from him and make it right. I can still try.”
Yvette pulled a hoodie over her head. “Don’t wait up.”
“Where are you going?”
“To talk to Sirois about your boyfriend, the Indian thief.” Yvette slammed the door behind her so hard that the trailer rocked on its foundation.
Kerry sat stunned. She had to find Aubrey to warn him. Fast.
CHAPTER 21
N ext morning, after the breakfast rush, Kerry turned into a garbage vigilante as a useful way to deal with her anger at Yvette, and at herself for opening her big mouth.
“Save your energy, those bears will be back,” said Slash, which gave Kerry an idea about how she could get to town. She said she needed specialized locks for the bins and asked Harcourt for permission to go. “The ones we got aren’t working.”
“Do you think we’re the damn SPCA? Forget it, there’s real work for you to do.”
Kerry kicked herself for not going to Rolf first. Of course, when she asked him instead he said yes, and even made a crack about her being a substitute bear whisperer. She asked him for a grocery list, in case she was challenged about why she needed to go to town. What am I doing? If Harcourt finds out, he’ll fire me. But no, Rolf will stand up for me. Once in town, armed with a grocery bag for cover, she looked everywhere for Aubrey and eventually came to the hotel tavern. He wasn’t much of a drinker but it was worth a try. She walked up to the front desk, where a guy in a stained, sleeveless undershirt was reading a dog-eared Penthouse.
“Yeah?”
Without luggage, she didn’t seem like someone who needed a room. “I’m looking for my boyfriend …”
“Bar’s right through there.”
Kerry peered through a porthole window but strobe lights flashed like sheet lightning, and she couldn’t see anything or anybody. Going in seemed like a bad idea. But what else could she do? She pushed open the door. Before her eyes adjusted, someone grabbed her arm and hustled her across the room, past the telephone boxes, the coatrack, and the pool table, into the shadows. He plunked her down hard on a chair.
“Look what I caught.” It was Slash. He planted a juicy, sour tobacco kiss on her forehead. “Your bodyguard is the luckiest guy in here today.”
Kerry shrank back in her chair as the server smashed a heavy tray of draft beer down in front of them. Slash lined up five glasses in front of her. “That’s good for starters.”
Kerry spotted the exit and was halfway out of her seat when Slash caught her wrist. “Drink up.”
She picked up one sweaty glass and sipped at the head.
“Come on, down the hatch. Don’t make me drink alone. I want to hear the story of your life.”
Kerry threw the beer back in her throat and started to cough. He leaped up, lifted her arm, and patted her back.
“You all right? More for me, I can see. Waiter, we need some water.”
Over the next ten minutes, Slash knocked back four glasses. “You’re not much of a party girl, and I can tell this place is creeping you out. Let’s go. I’ll walk you back to the office.”
He insisted. He even walked on the highway side of the road, with Kerry on the shoulder. They stopped dead at the entrance to the forestry office, where “Cops Are Pricks. Help Ursus Americanus. Home on Native Land” was spray-painted in fluorescent pink above the door. “Your boyfriend’s getting reckless, taunting the cops to come after him.”
“How can you be so sure it’s Aubrey?”
“Who else knows the Latin for ‘black bear’? For whatever reason, he’s the angriest Metis I know. If I were you, I’d forget about Aubrey Two-Beers. He’s a waste of space.”
Kerry made a fist and tried smudging out the word “Cops.” Aubrey was in real trouble, and she needed to find him before they did.
In the middle of the night, Kerry woke to the roll of a boat climbing up waves and falling down the other side. She didn’t feel drunk despite the beer Slash had forced on her. She turned on her flashlight to see if Yvette was awake. It was three a.m. and Yvette’s bed hadn’t been slept in! She sat up, panicked about Yvette’s whereabouts, until she remembered they’d had a fight.
She flopped down and the rocking of the trailer sped up. She heard a giggle, a man’s deeper laugh, more rocking, a sound like beer cans opening, then more giggling. Boots clumping on the floor and heels, or maybe it was knees, banging against the thin, fake-wood paneled walls. Squeal
ing in French, and much shushing.
They weren’t in Matthew’s room but one over. Kerry wrapped her head in a pillow and pretended hard that she was on a Caribbean cruise, and that the up-and-down of ocean waves was lulling her to sleep.
CHAPTER 22
T he men came into the mess hall, inhaled their dinner, and left, continuing a day exactly like the day before. Conversation amounted to no more than “Pass the ketchup.”
Kerry and Yvette were up to their shoulders in dirty pots. “Whoever’s setting fires, I wish they’d stop,” said Yvette.
Kerry was surprised that Yvette was talking to her again and was eager to prolong the conversation. “Must be a sicko,” she said. “What’s Matt’s theory?”
“We try not to talk about work.”
“Come on, you can wangle it out of him.” Kerry could tell she was thinking about it.
Slash invited the girls for just one beer in his trailer when they went on break, mid-afternoon. Why not? thought Kerry. If you can get over the look of him, he’s a decent guy. Besides, he’s obsessed with Aubrey and he knows something he’s not telling. I can feel it.
“Sounds good.” Kerry didn’t expect Yvette to come along but she did. After a couple of chugging contests between Slash and Yvette, which Yvette won, Slash had a brilliant idea for another game.
“You’ll love it. It’s a game of chicken. You run around in the dark in the dump and the first one to turn on his headlamp is chicken. Dead simple.”
Kerry could feel her legs twitching with anxiety but she tried to keep her voice calm. “Sounds dumb. What’s the point?”
“It’s an initiation thing.”
Kerry looked at her partner for help. “It’s called Truth or Bear,” said Yvette. “It’s no big deal. I’ve played before.”
Kerry’s heart was stuck in her throat, and her voice squeaked as if she were sucking on a helium balloon. “How do bears come into it?”
Slash laughed. “You only play if there’s a bear.”