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To Keep a Secret

Page 5

by Brenda Chapman


  “I’ll call you as soon as he’s been brought in.”

  I was nearly at the door when Nick called my name. “Anna.”

  I turned. “What?”

  His eyes searched my face. “Nothing. I just . . . I’m just sorry for how this is turning out, that’s all.”

  “Yeah. Solving this case has brought me no joy.” Nick’s voice when he called my name had been as soft as silk sheets. The concern in his eyes had almost made me stumble on the top step.

  I straightened my shoulders and ran downstairs, pulling out my cellphone to call Jimmy.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “I give Reverend Thompson ten more minutes before he asks for his lawyer,” Jimmy said.

  “For a man who started out wanting to be helpful, he sure has turned nasty,” I said. Jimmy and I stood next to each other behind the two-way mirror. Shaw and another detective were taking turns asking Mandy’s uncle questions. We watched from the next room. They’d been at it a couple of hours. Shaw, naturally, was playing bad cop.

  “For the last time, I deny everything,” Thompson said. He folded his arms across his chest and turned his unblinking brown eyes on Shaw. “Unless you have proof, I’d like to get back to my prayer group.”

  This was the moment Shaw was waiting for. He turned his head sideways to glance at the mirror. He probably wanted to make sure we witnessed the next few moments. He signalled to Detective Billings and she reached under her chair for a laptop. She set it on the table on an angle so that we all had a good view. Then she pressed play.

  Mandy’s face filled the screen. Her angry voice accusing her uncle of abuse filled the room. Thompson’s face went from confident to horrified as the video played. The final cut to his face on the dating website made his eyes bulge.

  “I didn’t kill her.” Thompson’s voice rose to a scream. He tried to rise out of his chair.

  “Sit down,” Shaw barked.

  Thompson slowly lowered himself back into the seat. “I’ll take the lie detector test. I wasn’t the one who killed her. She meant everything to me. That’s why I moved away five years ago—Mandy was like a drug that I couldn’t deny. My sins are my burden, but I am not a killer. I wasn’t there.”

  “Oh yeah?” Shaw said. “Sounds to me like you had a lot to lose, Reverend. All that respect–a–bility. Your standing in the community. Your family. Mandy was what? Twelve years old when it began? I’m no religion expert, but molesting a child is kind of a big sin, if you ask me.”

  Shaw looked over at Detective Billings. “What’s that thing people like to say? Confession is good for the soul. Maybe our friend here should practise a bit of what he preaches.” He looked back at Thompson. His voice hardened. “Tell us how you killed her, Reverend Thompson.”

  Thompson shook his head. He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. His face was filled with such self-pity that I wanted to lunge at him.

  Shaw signalled to Billings that it was time to leave. Thompson’s face turned desperate. He lifted the palms of both hands toward the ceiling as if asking for help. “I’ll tell you what I know,” he said. “I won’t bear this burden, too.” He closed his eyes and seemed to be gathering strength to go on.

  “What an act,” I said. “He knows that he’s cornered.”

  Thompson’s voice was resigned. “Mandy came to my office after school that day. But I’d gone to visit a dying woman at the Civic Hospital—to offer comfort. Iris was arranging flowers for the altar and brought Mandy into my office. Mandy threatened to expose me to the media. She was hysterical, screaming and out of control. My wife was wearing a scarf. She took it off and wrapped it around Mandy’s neck after she turned to leave. Iris told me that she barely remembers doing it. She pulled the scarf tighter and tighter. She just wanted to keep Mandy from ruining our lives.”

  Shaw stepped closer to Thompson and looked down at him. “Oh, I’d say you managed that feat all by yourself. Had your wife known about your taste for young girls?”

  “She knew that I had . . . weak moments. She had the strength to forgive me.”

  “She probably didn’t have the strength to move a dead body into a dumpster. Did you help your wife move Mandy’s corpse?”

  “I couldn’t let her . . . When she asked me what to do, I prayed. I couldn’t let my wife bear the weight alone.”

  “Not sure if that’s a pun or symbolic. But helping move a body makes you an accomplice. I’m sure your wife will be happy to hear you didn’t leave her to take all the blame. Detective Billings, I will let you do the booking honours. Reverend, your wife will be joining you shortly.”

  Jimmy and I looked at each other. “Never saw that coming,” Jimmy said.

  I thought over Thompson’s sudden confession. Iris’s anger when she found me with Frannie. Mandy’s dislike of her mother, and Nicole Blair’s total collapse. “I believe Mandy’s mother knew about the abuse, too, but did nothing about it.”

  Jimmy’s jaw tightened. “I’m beginning to hate these people,” he said.

  Shaw entered our viewing room. He walked over to where Jimmy and I were standing. “Well, one good thing came out of this,” he said. “Sergeant Vine is in the clear. We may not like his dating habits, but they aren’t criminal. I thank our lucky stars that he doesn’t know we found him on that site.”

  “And I was looking forward to showing him the video,” I said. “Although I’ve got to say, I’ll never look at the man the same way again.”

  “Believe me, Vine might not be my favourite person, but it’s better this way.” Shaw started for the door. “Tell Henry to stop with the blackmail. I’m not going to take it any further unless he keeps it up.

  “No fear of that,” I said. “Henry’s learned his lesson. Plus, Jada will have his head on a plate if he even thinks about doing it again.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  A light sprinkle of snow was falling when I stepped outside the station on Elgin Street. I took a deep breath and tried to clear away the evil I’d just watched unfold. The walk to where my car was parked on a side street felt good in the fresh, cold air. My cell vibrated in my pocket as I was sliding into the front seat. I pulled it out and glanced at the number. Jada.

  I pressed the button and Jada’s voice filled my ear. “Nick told me you’d be calling. But I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  “You and Henry are free to go home,” I said. I told her about Ben Thompson’s confession. I ended by telling her that Iris would soon be on her way to the station in handcuffs, too.

  “Well, that’s a relief. I’d love to stay here in Nick’s town house, but I won’t miss being in hiding,” Jada said. “And I have a date tonight that I’ll now be able to make. He’s promised me lobster tails and cranberry martinis.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Friend of a friend. It’s our second date, so nothing serious. Where are you off to?”

  “Dad’s.” It was time to find out about his cancer test results. I’d been half expecting him to call. The fact he hadn’t worried me. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

  “Perfect. I might be in closer to nine than seven.” She laughed and hung up.

  I turned on my car and turned the heater to high. “And tomorrow I’m going to find out what makes you tick, Nick Roma,” I said aloud to the empty car.

  • • • • • • • • • •

  Cheri and Dad were sitting at the kitchen table. Dad was drinking a beer and Cheri had her usual glass of red wine. It would be an expensive French pinot noir with a hint of cherry and black currant. Or whatever else was expensive and on trend. She always brought her own wine, not trusting Dad’s taste, which ran to swill in a box.

  I tried to read their faces. Cheri looked like she’d been crying. Fear kept me from saying anything. The big cabbage in my stomach had returned.

  “Pull up a chair and join the party,” Dad said. “Maybe you can talk some sense into your sister.”

  I looked from Dad to Cheri. “This isn’t about your t
est results?” I asked.

  “Test results? Oh, that.” Dad waved a hand in the air. “I got the all clear. No, your sister is having second thoughts about being married and raising a kid. Thinks she needs to go find herself on the other side of the world.”

  I sat down and looked at my sister. “Cheri? You can’t be serious. Tell me Dad is making this up.”

  Cheri raised her wide blue eyes to mine. They sparkled with a fresh round of tears. She flipped back her long, blonde hair, buying time. “I’ve been offered a file that will take me to China. Just for a year, though. It’s not like I’m leaving for good. I’ll make a ton of money and will gain so much legal experience.”

  “What about Evan? How could you be away from him that long? Not to mention leaving Jimmy.”

  “My guys will be fine without me. Before they really miss me, I’ll be on my way home. This job is such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I thought you and Dad would be happy for me.”

  Dad and I exchanged a glance. Cheri was living in a dream world of her own making. “What does Jimmy think about you going away for a year?”

  Cheri took a long sip of wine.

  Dad filled in the silence. “She’s telling him tonight. Right after she picks up Evan from the sitter’s.”

  “You need to think this plan through, Cheri,” I said. “Your career is important, but don’t put it ahead of your family. We’re already proud of all you’ve done. You don’t need to prove anything to us.”

  Cheri stood up and grabbed her coat from the back of her chair. She looked down at me and Dad. “I was hoping you both would understand. I should have known better.” She stomped out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and out the front door.

  Dad and I sat at the table without moving. I didn’t know whether to go after my sister or give her space. Cheri was never known for putting others first, but going away for a year was extreme even for her.

  At last Dad got to his feet. “Think I’ll pour a big shot of whiskey and head to bed,” he said. “I’ll leave you to lock up, Anna. Suddenly, I’m very tired.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I sat at the kitchen table for a while after Dad went to bed, nursing my own whiskey and soda. At quarter to ten, I decided it was time for me to get some sleep too. I drained the last of my drink and stood. My phone beeped where I’d set it on the table. This time, it was a text from a number I didn’t recognize. I clicked on it.

  Somebody’s after me. Henry.

  I started typing.

  Who? Where are you?

  I headed down the hallway to the front door, waiting for Henry’s next text. I’d already put on my jacket and shoes and was out the door when my cell beeped again.

  Sgt Vine. He got on front of my bus & I got off back. Chasing me. Am cutting through Rideau Centre to Market.

  I typed quickly.

  On my way. 15 minutes. Send updates on location.

  I jumped into my car and backed out of the driveway. I crossed over to Bank Street and headed north toward downtown. At the first set of lights, I pressed Jimmy’s number on my phone. It went to voicemail. I hit another number. Nick Roma picked up on the first ring.

  “Vine is after Henry,” I said. “I need you to call Shaw and Jimmy. Henry texted me from the Rideau Centre. He’s heading into the Byward Market.”

  “That’s near me,” Nick said. “I’ll make the calls and head that way too.”

  “I’ll keep you in the loop when Henry texts me again with his location.” The light turned green. I set my phone on the seat next to me and pressed my foot down on the gas. Luckily, traffic was moving quickly and I made several green lights in a row.

  I turned right onto Wellington and drove past the Parliament Buildings. The road swooped left onto Sussex Drive. The Byward Market was a rabbit warren of streets off to my right. I took the next right onto York Street and glanced at my phone. No text message from Henry.

  A car was backing out from an angled parking space directly in front of me. I waited for it to drive away and pulled in. If I didn’t take this spot, I could be driving around a long time. Parking was hard to come by in the Market. I’d take the spot and wait to hear from Henry.

  I sent him a message.

  In Market on York. Where are you?

  I waited, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. A group of smokers stood in front of the bar across the street, huddled into their coats. The snow had stopped but it was a cold night. Come on, Henry. My phone beeped.

  On Clarence. Turning onto William & heading your way. Vine on tail. Like he’s planted tracking device.

  Vine was as smart as they come. He very well might have planted a device. He’d been in Jada and Henry’s apartment. What was it Jimmy had said? Vine hates being crossed. He goes to great lengths to get even. I typed another message.

  Check your bag, pockets. I’m on my way to meet you.

  My phone rang as I started down York at a dead run. I slowed and put the phone to my ear. “Where are you, Nick?”

  “I’m on George, just entering the Market. Where are you?”

  “On foot heading east on York to meet Henry on William Street. Vine is close behind him.”

  “I’m on my way. I’ll let Shaw know where you are.

  I reached the intersection just as Henry skidded around the corner. He was wearing a blue jacket and carried a knapsack. I grabbed onto his arm and steadied him. He started to pull his arm away until he saw it was me. His eyes went from scared to relieved.

  We ducked into the shadows. “Where’s Vine?” I asked.

  Henry fought to catch his breath. “He dropped back. I couldn’t find anything in my pockets. I never had a chance to look in my bag.”

  “Let’s head back to my car. Once we start driving, he won’t be able to keep up on foot.”

  We started running. I checked behind but there was no sign of Vine. “I think we’ve lost him,” I said. I slowed, and Henry did too. No point drawing attention to ourselves. We passed a pub named The Brig and stopped in front of a clothing store. “Let’s cross the street,” I said, pointing toward the line of parked cars. I did another shoulder check and waited for a car to pass by. I stepped onto the street and ran at an angle to my car.

  It took me a moment to realize that Henry wasn’t behind me. I stopped on the other side of the road and looked where we’d been standing. I was just in time to see Henry being dragged through an iron gate. The gate was hardly visible, tucked between two buildings. “Henry!” I screamed.

  Two cars sped toward me and I had to wait for them to go by. The second stopped in front of me. Two young men leaned out of the open back window. One whistled and the other asked if I wanted a ride.

  Yeah right. I shook my head and raced around the back of the car. I would have kicked their back fender if I’d had more time.

  I stepped through the open gate and ran down a narrow brick passageway, which opened into a small courtyard. The space was flanked on all sides by buildings and another entrance was directly ahead of me. The corners were dark but I didn’t have time to worry about my own safety. I headed across the courtyard, trying to see into the black spaces. There was no sign of them.

  I ran through the narrow entrance on the other side of the courtyard onto Clarence Street. People were walking on both sides of the street, but I didn’t spot Henry and Vine. The Black Thorn restaurant was in front of me with another courtyard beside it. I dodged more cars and slipped into the courtyard. This one was a larger rectangle with trees at the far end. I kept running, not even sure if they’d gone the same way.

  When I reached the sidewalk on Murray Street, I stopped to look in both directions. I thought I saw two men far ahead, crossing Sussex. It looked like Henry’s blue jacket. I started running, fear and adrenaline keeping me going.

  They were moving quickly, skirting past the art gallery. My lungs were burning in my chest and I stopped to catch my breath. I hunched over, gasping for air. When I lifted my head I caught a glimpse of them a good distance ah
ead of me. My eyes widened in horror as I realized where they were headed.

  Vine was forcing Henry toward Nepean Point— the flat circle of land that ended in a fifty-foot cliff above the Ottawa River. The limestone cliff from which more than one person had fallen or been pushed to their death.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Nick rang me as I started to give chase again. I told him Vine and Henry’s location and where they were headed, and that I was afraid I wouldn’t get there in time.

  “Hang on, Anna. I’ll turn around and cut behind the art gallery. Ten minutes, tops.”

  I raced past the statue of the explorer Champlain looking out over the Ottawa River. I’d been to more than one music concert at this site. Now, in the dark November night, the figure seemed ominous. The fifty-foot drop was directly ahead. A rim of fence was all that stood in Vine’s way. A cold wind was coming off the river. I searched the area ahead of me until I saw them. Henry was struggling to get away, his knapsack tossed some distance away on the ground. He must have known what lay in store if they kept going.

  I screamed Vine’s name. He stopped dragging Henry and looked in my direction. I pushed myself forward.

  “Who’s there?” Vine yelled. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “You don’t want to do this, Vine.” My words came out between pants as I sucked in air. “We know about the video.”

  I heard cars screeching to a stop close by. I was several feet from Henry and Vine. Almost close enough. Vine grabbed Henry around the neck with his burly arm and pulled him against his chest.

  “Kid needs to be taught a lesson,” Vine said. “You must see that. He’s a punk blackmailer. I’m just letting him know what happens when anyone messes with me.”

  Vine turned his back on me and started marching Henry closer to the edge. I had no idea if Vine would throw Henry over or not. But I didn’t want to take the chance. I flung myself the last distance and hurled myself onto Vine’s back. It felt as if I’d hit a wall. He was like a bull, with a wide chest of solid muscle. He reached back and grabbed my face with his hand. Pain shot through my cheeks and jaw as he shoved me backward.

 

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