by Gina Dartt
She could easily imagine herself and Kate sitting on a park bench some lazy summer evening, watching those same ducks and the dance of fireflies, and she laughed at herself, already seeing herself growing old with Kate. We haven’t even managed to get through this first week, she reminded herself as she crested the hill and started the incline toward the downtown core. But her niggling doubt didn’t stop her from dreaming, and she scarcely noticed the cold weather as she neared the central part of town.
Nikki had almost reached the police station when a familiar car passed her, and suddenly, she focused on something other than her new relationship. Intrigued, she watched as Katherine Rushton parked her Lexus in front of another car that she easily recognized as belonging to Terry Bishop. Obviously, she hadn’t been arrested, which meant that Kate had correctly assumed that the truly incriminating papers had been removed from the folder. But Rushton must have been called downtown for a reason. Deciding that this was too good an opportunity to pass up, Nikki quickened her step, pleased to have a valid excuse to be at the station.
Inside the front lobby, she strolled over to where Sandy Wright, the station’s dispatch supervisor, was covering the desk. Through the window in the back, Nikki could see Rushton and Bishop in heated discussion with a constable, and she wished she could be a fly on the wall. In lieu of that, she wished she could read lips and made a mental note to learn as soon as possible.
According to rumor, Sandy, a rawboned woman in her early thirties, really ran the police station, and the rest of the constables, including the chief, actually worked for her. Chief Wallace wouldn’t necessarily deny the assumption, either. “Do you know what’s required of a dispatcher?” she asked, her blue eyes obviously appraising Nikki.
“I believe so.” Nikki launched into what she had learned on the Net, trying to make it sound casual. “I know the position requires a lot of independent judgment, along with excellent verbal communication skills, the ability to think clearly and act promptly in emergencies, and to recall essential details quickly. I also know the surrounding geography quite well, and I’m pretty good at reading maps.”
Sandy looked pleased, as if Nikki was the first one who seemed to understand the position required more than just going for donuts and keeping track of the constables during their shifts. “We’re not as busy as the city, of course,” she explained. “Most outside area 911 calls go to the Mounties, but we still get a lot of calls from people in trouble, and you need to be able to handle some pretty tense stuff at times.”
Nikki nodded, even as she kept half an eye on the drama being played out in the other room. Rushton seemed to be yelling a lot, while Bishop seemed to be doing his best to calm his client. “I’m also willing to do shift work,” she said, trying not to be too distracted. “I don’t have kids or anything, so I’m available all the time, even on holidays.”
“If you make it past the final culling of the résumés, you’ll still have to take a written exam,” Sandy told her. “The scores will count for a lot on who gets the job.”
“I’m ready for that. I can type fifty-five words a minute, and I’m familiar with a lot of the current software programs. I’m comfortable with computers. I know it’s a really challenging and vital position, Sandy, and not everyone is capable of handling it, but I believe I’m ready for it.”
Sandy nodded. “I’ll make sure this goes to Personnel.”
Nikki knew that was the stock response and that her résumé could easily end up at the bottom of the pile, but she still felt a bit of optimism. Though Personnel would obviously have the final say, she suspected Sandy would have a great influence over who actually made the final cut for the examinations, and acknowledging how important the dispatcher’s job was in the station hadn’t hurt her chances. Passing the exam would be up to her, of course, but at this point she wasn’t worried. If she couldn’t do well on the exam, she didn’t deserve the position.
The door to the other room suddenly flew open, and Rushton stomped out, followed by Bishop. She was clearly agitated, and when she spotted Nikki, she immediately centered her fury on her. “What is that dyke doing here?” she demanded, pointing a shaking finger at her. “She’s the one who should be locked up as a deviant instead of being allowed to run around and interfere with my business.”
Nikki grimaced, while Sandy looked profoundly embarrassed. Of course, thought Nikki, everyone knew there were gays and lesbians in the town, but to point them out at the top of one’s lungs displayed extremely poor taste. Even if someone privately shared Katherine Rushton’s opinion of homosexuality, most people considered it rude to publicly air one’s prejudices, particularly when the minority in question was just standing there minding her own business. If the average Canadian tried to avoid one thing, it was rudeness.
“Let’s get out of here,” Bishop said, his hand on Rushton’s arm, propelling her toward the entrance.
“I want to bring charges against her for trespassing,” Rushton said, not budging as she glared open hatred at Nikki. “You and that Shannon woman. I don’t care what she thought she saw last week. She’s not going to railroad me into prison for a murder I didn’t commit.”
Nikki was as uncomfortable as anyone to be the target of such vitriol, but she held her head high. An idle thought crossed her mind; she wondered what Kate would do in this situation. She asked quietly, “What are you so afraid of?”
Perhaps it was the simplicity of her question, the depth and variety of meaning that could be derived from such an implication, but where Bishop could not get his client to back down, Nikki deflated her with one well-placed needle. She was rather proud of herself.
“The same thing you should be afraid of,” Rushton hissed before allowing herself to be dragged out of the station, and Nikki suddenly had a totally different perception of the situation. Rushton was scared, and it wasn’t necessarily of what she and Kate had found in her house before she disposed of it. This was a deeper fear, and Nikki was left to ponder exactly what was going on.
“You just manage to find trouble wherever you go, don’t you, Nikki?” Pete McGinnis said, his arms crossed over his chest.
The constable was a friend of Nikki’s brother, and even if he didn’t know Nikki well, he knew the family. He had dated her older sister, Julie, at one time, and shared Julie’s antipathy toward her, though she had always found him such a pompous little prick that his opinion didn’t bother her a great deal. “I’m just standing here, Pete,” she replied evenly. “You’re the one who made her mad.”
He snorted and shook his head, not rising to the bait, then returned to the interrogation room, leaving her eaten alive with curiosity about the confrontation between him and Katherine Rushton.
She nodded briefly at Sandy, who waved, then left the station. Outside, she took several deep breaths and headed for home. What had Rushton so scared? Where would she have hidden that first gun after she replaced it with the second? Where had she stashed the other papers from the file? Of course, at this point, Rushton had more than enough time to return to Edwards House and hide them somewhere else, or even destroy them entirely. Perhaps if she and Kate had gone back to the estate later that night while Rushton had been at the police station, rather than going to Nikki’s apartment to have dinner and...
Well, all things considered, Nikki didn’t really regret missing the opportunity to search Edwards House over the weekend. Her good humor restored, she checked her watch, wondering how long the memorial service for Sam Madison would take. There would be no actual burial, of course, because the ground was frozen solid, but this event would formally end one man’s existence in the world.
Strolling down the block, she stopped by the sporting goods store to check out the new spring arrivals. An avid camper and hiker since childhood, Nikki was a familiar customer, and she enjoyed chatting with the clerks about all the various luxury items designed to make the urban cowboys more comfortable while out in the wild. But as amusing as it was to make fun of the extravagant eq
uipment, it also occurred to her that this year she might have to seriously consider items to coddle a novice camper during her first outdoors adventure. Such items were pricey, but if she was hired for the well-paying job at the police station, she could afford to outfit Kate properly. She was now doubly determined to pass the exam, if she made it that far, and decided to do more research to be as prepared as possible.
Maybe Kate absolutely wouldn’t enjoy camping, but Nikki decided not to contemplate that unpleasant alternative. Why look for clouds on an otherwise bright and beautiful day?
Chapter Twenty-One
Kate took a seat in the funeral home beside Susan, glancing around at the various townspeople attending the memorial service for Sam Madison. She picked out Margaret in the front row, attended by her mother and sister. Sam didn’t have any family representing him, only friends and business associates. Kate was intrigued that Katherine Rushton wasn’t one of them, and she wondered where she was. Turning her head, she noted that Rick Johnson had predictably positioned himself near the back, probably so he could watch everyone who came in and out of the small chapel.
Looking over at a group of women she knew from the golf club, Kate became aware that they were glancing at her and then putting their heads together to whisper. She felt uncomfortable as she settled back in the pew and wondered if they were talking about her.
Susan shrugged when she asked her about it. “It could be that you were the one who called in the fire. It might also have gotten out that you placed this Rushton woman at the scene.”
“What if it’s about my relationship with Nikki?”
“Then it may be something you’ll have to get used to, Kate,” Susan whispered, not unkindly. “Do you think your new status as a lesbian lover would have spread so quickly?”
Kate wondered if it were possible, considering that she and Nikki had only became truly close within the last week. Of course, in this town, all it would require was for the right person to observe Kate becoming friends with her, and the news would spread from there, growing and altering until god only knew what they were saying about her at this point. What she felt for Nikki was precious and private, and she didn’t appreciate the idea that others might attempt to make something so special into something tawdry or crass.
But Kate was also aware that how she dealt with this situation would give others a cue as to how to react. If she seemed somehow embarrassed or ashamed of what she was doing, then by definition it was a shameful thing. If, however, she conducted herself with the same dignity and assurance that she did in the rest of her life, then eventually the rumors would die down, and the gossips would move on to something far more delicious.
She lifted her chin higher, determined to be as confident in her relationship with Nikki as she had ever been with David. “Lesbian lover?” she said from the corner of her mouth.
“As in the lover of a lesbian,” Susan said. “Not necessarily a lesbian who is considered an extraordinary lover.”
“Ah. Thank you for the distinction…I think.”
“My pleasure.” Susan tilted her head toward Margaret Madison in the front row. “Maggie seems rather broken up about this.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“I wouldn’t have married him in the first place, let alone kept him around after the first time he strayed. I just find it hard to believe she would care so much that she was finally rid of him.”
“Perhaps they understood each other, Susan. Enough to let him do what he wanted so long as he maintained the letter, if not the spirit, of the marriage.”
“No, I can’t see that. Maggie was always a bit of a cold fish, especially at university. Remember how she turned in Sadie for having a boy in her room?”
“It was against house rules.”
Susan chuckled. “Maybe, but even you weren’t so stringent, Kate. Maggie wasn’t just determined to play by the rules. She wanted to see anyone who broke them punished immediately and to the fullest extent. I just find it hard to believe that she didn’t hold Sam to the same standard.”
“It’s possible she didn’t know about the affairs.”
“She knew. But why did she put up with it?”
“Maybe because she truly loved him,” Kate said. “More than any rules.” She shifted a little on the hard wooden bench. “We never really know what’s going on inside a person’s head or heart.”
“You can say that again. Still waters run deep. I suppose she could be mourning the fact that her meal ticket is gone.”
Kate shook her head. “No, the money was all on her side. It had to be love, because he brought nothing else to the marriage but himself.”
“Maybe she’s a masochist.”
Which made Kate think about what Nikki had revealed to her about Abigail Jenkins, and for a moment, she was hard-pressed not to chuckle as she spotted the mayor’s wife sitting next to her husband only a few rows up. She almost leaned over and told Susan about what she had learned before remembering that she had promised Nikki she wouldn’t tell anyone. Biting her tongue with an effort, she settled back in her seat. It was a new experience, not sharing everything with her best friend, but Nikki had trusted her, and promptly betraying that trust would be a sad way to start the relationship.
“What?” Susan prodded.
“Nothing. I was just thinking of Nikki.”
“Big surprise. Are you ever not thinking of her?”
Kate didn’t respond, which was an answer in itself. The minister appeared at the podium, and Kate settled back to listen to the service, studying the other people around her as the various tributes were made. Toward the end of some rather lengthy prayers, she heard a stir at the rear of the chapel and turned to look back, along with everyone else, as Katherine Rushton defiantly took a seat in the last row and stared straight ahead. “That’s Rushton,” Kate whispered.
Susan snuck another glance over her shoulder at the woman and then turned back to the front as the minister regained control over the service. When it was finally finished, the townspeople started to file out, some moving on to the gathering at the Madison home, others returning to work or going home.
Kate would have loved to go to the house, but since she was not really that close to Margaret, she wasn’t brave or crass enough to crash the gathering. As she and Susan exited the chapel, she saw Margaret Madison and Katherine Rushton facing off in the foyer of the funeral home. Though she and Susan had previously assessed Sam’s wife as distantly brittle, Kate soon realized she was also emotionally volatile.
“How dare you show up here?” Sam’s wife hissed, the veins standing out in her neck as she glared absolute hatred at Rushton. Margaret’s mother and sister were attempting to draw her away, while Rick Johnson observed unblinkingly from the entrance.
“I was Sam’s business partner,” Rushton said, her face a furious red, but standing her ground. “It was appropriate that I be here.”
“You killed him. You ruined him, and then you killed him.”
“You’re hysterical,” Rushton said, which Kate thought was pretty accurate at this point, despite her dislike for the woman.
Margaret was sliding out of control, which was completely unlike the mousy, rake-thin, morose woman. Gray strands streaked her light hair. She seemed to have aged twenty years since the death of her husband, a distinct contrast to the cold but artificially attractive Rushton. But Margaret’s voice remained strong, and it was apparent that very little beyond a single remaining shred of propriety kept her from striking Rushton.
“Wow,” Susan muttered. “Truro is a hell of a lot more entertaining now than I remember it.”
“Shush.” Kate shot her an admonishing look.
However, Margaret Madison spotted her and raised her voice. “Kate Shannon,” she said loudly and strode over to them. “You saw her there that night, didn’t you?”
Embarrassed and helpless, Kate glanced at Rick for instructions, who merely shrugged minutely, which she assumed meant that she could say whatever s
he wanted. She wondered if the information was so useless as to be irrelevant in building a case against Katherine Rushton, or if Rick was trying to use it as a lure to discover something more vital. Either way, she found it exceptionally distasteful.
“I saw a car that resembled Katherine Rushton’s parked in front of the insurance office that night,” she admitted woodenly. She reached out and clumsily patted Margaret on the shoulder. “You’re overwrought, Maggie. Try to calm down.”
Margaret didn’t calm down, but she didn’t continue to pursue Kate either, instead turning on the police officer. Kate breathed a sigh of relief that everyone else’s attention shifted with hers.
“Why haven’t you arrested that bitch?” Margaret demanded, gesturing at Rushton. The slur sounded odd coming from her pinched mouth, despite the obvious and searing hatred that motivated it.
“Miss Rushton admits that she was there,” Rick said easily. “She also says that she left long before the fire began, or the estimated time of death.”
“She lies,” Margaret stated flatly.
“I have no evidence to support that accusation,” he said. He took Margaret gently by the shoulders. “Margaret, people are waiting back at your home to share your pain. You need to go with your mother and sister.”
She stared into his face; then, as if deriving some comfort there, some measure of assurance and peace, she nodded and turned away, walking over to where her family waited. All the animation had gone out of her like air from a balloon, and after she left the foyer, all eyes turned to Katherine Rushton. She raked them with a disdainful look, but didn’t say anything as she strode from the room with as much dignity as possible.
Kate looked over at Rick, wondering what he was up to.
“You’re sure about the time you heard the car drive away?”