Last lullaby

by Alice Walsh

“One of the bonuses of having a large family,” said Gina.

  “Yes,” Bram agreed, a cloud passing over his face.

  Lauren wondered what was going through his mind. As close as she was to Claire, Lauren had never really gotten to know Bram. She wondered if he regretted that he had not grown up surrounded by people who cared for him. He had been so alone after his parents died.

  Gina glanced at her watch. “I really do have to go.”

  “I think Lauren and Anya should leave too,” Bram said.

  Lauren was taken aback. Was he ordering them out of the room? She glanced at Anya, who had her lips set in a thin line. She gave Bram a look that could only be described as a glare.

  Lauren stood up. “Well, you’re the doctor,” she said. “I’m sure you know what’s best for the patient.” But despite her light tone, she felt a flush of embarrassment at Bram’s rudeness.

  —

  “Why would Jade leave all that money behind?” Rebecca said, as much to herself as to Kyle. They had left Comeau’s Cabins after receiving a frantic call from Lauren LaVallee and were on their way back to the station.

  Kyle shook his head. “There’s something really strange going on here.”

  Rebecca recalled Patrick driving off in his expensive car that afternoon. “First a preschool teacher, an intern no less, buys a Lexus, and now this.” The bigger mystery was where Jade and Patrick got that kind of money. Rebecca knew Jade had struggled with financial problems even before her partner, Willy, left her. She wouldn’t be surprised if Willy had something to do with Jade’s disappearance. She recalled all the times the police had been called to their apartment. Jade was a textbook case of battered-woman syndrome. She lacked confidence and was forever second-guessing herself. Her self-worth was so low she couldn’t see the assets she had to offer.

  “We need to rule out who sent those emails,” Kyle said.

  Rebecca nodded absently. They had established that the emails had been sent from an internet café. Anyone could have sent them; users were not required to show ID. If Jade hadn’t sent the emails, it was obvious someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like she had. If family and friends thought she had moved away, they wouldn’t be as alarmed by her disappearance.

  Rebecca’s cellphone rang. She took it from her purse and glanced at the number. Seeing it was her husband, Darren, she put the phone away.

  Kyle cast a curious look.

  “I’ll get it later,” Rebecca said. She didn’t feel like talking to Darren right now. Ever since her mother-in-law’s visit, things had been tense between them. Maggie often rubbed Rebecca the wrong way, but this visit had been worse than any other. She had harped on about all the time Rebecca was spending away from home. She questioned why she needed to take courses. Her uncle was a police officer, Maggie kept reminding her, and he got all his training on the job. Rebecca had tried to explain that the courses would not only benefit her career, but also be good for the whole family. Rebecca sighed, causing Kyle to give her another look.

  “Something on your mind, partner?”

  “It’s Maggie, my mother-in-law. She can’t understand why I’m spending so much time away from home.”

  “Did you explain how important it is to get a degree?”

  “I tried to but she just doesn’t understand. It’s stressful working full-time and going to school, but with Darren off work, it’s a great opportunity for me to pick up some credits.”

  “Makes sense,” Kyle said.

  Rebecca’s phone rang again—her brother, Ivan, this time. Probably wanting to hit her up for another loan. She ignored it, and turned her attention back to Kyle. “How did you get along with your in-laws?” she asked, silencing her phone. She knew Kyle’s divorce had just become final.

  “Fine,” he said. “In fact, they still call me from time to time.” He turned to look at her. “I take it that’s not the case with you.”

  “Maybe I’m overreacting, but Maggie gets under my skin.” Rebecca tightened her lips. “She’s upset because Darren quit his job to move here.”

  “How does Darren feel about it?”

  “He was fine with it until recently. Now he’s complaining that he’s bored. One of my classes is two nights a week. And as you know, I do a lot of night shifts.”

  “It’s difficult being married to a police officer,” Kyle said. “All the moving around and late nights.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I remember how upset my wife was when I had to go out west for training. She was young and didn’t want to be away from her family. I don’t want to trivialize things but if Darren’s bored, maybe he should get a hobby.”

  “I’ve urged him to take some courses at the college. He’s always been interested in pottery.”

  “It could lead him into a whole new career.”

  Rebecca smiled. “I doubt that will happen.” Still, she wished Darren would do something. She had suggested he apply at some of the garages in town. He didn’t see the sense when Rebecca was going to be transferred to Halifax in a few months.

  “Are you worried about your marriage?” Kyle asked bluntly.

  “Things are kind of stressful right now,” Rebecca admitted.

  “It’s a difficult balance,” Kyle said. “Our spouses don’t always have an easy time.”

  Rebecca nodded. But as much as she worried about her marriage, she was determined not to end up like her mother, who had given up a nursing career she loved to raise four children. Their father walked out on the family when Rebecca was twelve. Because her mother had let her nursing license expire, the only job she could find was as a nurse’s aide at a nursing home. The job barely paid minimum wage. She remembered her mother coming home stressed and worn out. That will never happen to me, Rebecca vowed. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and this time she saw it was Lauren LaVallee. She picked up.

  “I’m just wondering if you found out anything new about Jade and Cara,” Lauren said.

  Rebecca felt a wave of annoyance. “Lauren, I know you’re concerned,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended, “but this is a police matter. You need to stay out of it.”

  Chapter 32

  Madeleine Comeau watched from the window of her living room as divers in orange suits plunged into the water. Less than an hour after the RCMP’s visit, they’d arrived. After securing the area they’d spent a sleepless night waiting for daylight. They were now dragging the lake.

  Officers walked along the shore. Through the open window, Madeleine could hear the static of their two-way radios. There were rescue boats on the lake, and from time to time a helicopter flew over the water, circling low. They had been searching for nearly nine hours now. Madeleine shuddered to think that poor girl might be lying beneath the cold water. She had stayed awake all night, offering up prayers to the Virgin Mary for Jade and her little one. She knew the police suspected foul play from the questions they asked. One of the officers made a point of telling her she should keep her door locked at night. Precious Jesus. Did they believe she was in danger?

  She folded her arms across her chest as if hugging herself. Never had she been so happy to see Father Williams’s car pull up in front of the house. It was not his usual visiting day, but when she’d called him that morning, he suggested taking her out for a change of scenery, as he put it.

  Just as Madeleine opened the door, the priest turned toward the lake. Following his gaze, she saw two divers haul something into a boat.

  “Looks like they found what they were looking for,” Father Williams said.

  —

  “Police are seeking the public’s help in solving the drowning death of a Paddy’s Arm student.” The newscaster’s voice was solemn as she read the report. “Twenty-three-year-old Jade Roberts’s body was pulled from a small lake less than an hour’s drive from Paddy’s Arm.” Lauren sucked in her breath as a picture of Jade, hol
ding Cara in her arms, flashed on the screen. “Police have ruled the death a homicide,” the newscaster continued. “Roberts was last seen on February 13 at Comeau’s Cabins on the Lake.” There was a quick cut to a view of the lake. “Still missing is Roberts’s nine-month-old baby girl, Cara.” Again the picture of Jade and Cara flashed on the screen. This time the camera zoomed in for a close-up of Cara. “The infant was last seen on February 12. Anyone with information about the victim or her child’s whereabouts is asked to call the RCMP.”

  Claire picked up the remote and turned off the television. “I pray that whoever has Cara is taking good care of her,” she said.

  Both Lauren and Emma nodded. The trio was having tea in Claire’s living room.

  “They’re dragging the lake for Cara,” Emma said.

  Lauren shuddered. “Let’s hope they don’t find her there.”

  “I suppose they need to rule out that the baby died with her mother,” Claire said.

  “I feel guilty for not taking Jade’s disappearance seriously,” Emma said. “God knows I had enough students voicing concerns. I should have gone to the police.”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself,” Lauren said. “There was no way to prevent what happened. The outcome would have been the same no matter what you did. After receiving those emails we all thought Jade had found a job and left.”

  “Why were the emails sent?” Claire asked.

  “Rebecca Taylor thinks they were sent by the killer,” Lauren said. “Someone who wanted us to believe Jade was still alive.”

  “The police must have suspected foul play before the body was recovered,” Claire said.

  “I’m sure they considered that possibility,” Lauren agreed.

  Emma turned to Lauren. “Have you had a chance to visit Annabelle and Frances?”

  Lauren shook her head. “I don’t know if you heard, but Annabelle’s father passed away. I didn’t want to bother her at such a difficult time. I’m planning to visit her this week.”

  A silence fell between the three women. There was no need to put into words what Lauren knew they were all thinking: It was one thing to buy a baby, but murder was a whole different equation. No, she thought. Surely Frances and Annabelle could not be part of that. Still, Lauren needed to find out why there was so much secrecy around the baby they’d adopted. She had decided not tell Emma or Claire that Patrick had been at Jade’s cabin just before Jade died. She owed him that, as his lawyer. Only the police had that information.

  Just then a knock came at the apartment door, startling them. Claire got up to answer it. All three women were surprised when Bram stumbled into the room.

  “Bram?” Claire folded her arms over her chest.

  “Good afternoon, Claire.” Bram crossed the room, his gait unsteady. He plunked himself down on the sofa as easily as if he was in his own home.

  He’d been drinking, Lauren realized, taking in his flushed face and unfocused eyes. His clothes were rumpled, his hair mussed. She’d never seen him so dishevelled.

  Bram looked from Emma to Lauren. “Good afternoon, friends of Claire.” He made no apology for showing up unannounced.

  Frowning, Claire looked out the window.

  Lauren followed her gaze to the Jeep Cherokee parked in the driveway.

  “Goddammit, Bram! How could you drive in your condition?” Claire asked. “You could have killed someone. At the very least, you could have been arrested for impaired driving.”

  “You look lovely, Claire,” Bram said, ignoring her reproach. “What have you done to your hair?”

  Claire glared at him.

  “Carry on with whatever you were doing,” Bram told them.

  Claire’s lips tightened, but she said nothing.

  “Whew!” Bram said. “It’s hot in here.” He stood to remove his jacket. He was about to hang it on the coat tree when a package fell from the pocket. Photographs skidded across the hardwood floor. “Damn,” he muttered, bending to pick them up.

  Lauren stooped down to help him. She gathered up some of the photos and placed them on the nearby coffee table. They were pictures of Ariel, she realized with a pang. In a number of them, she was wearing a pink ruffled dress with red hearts. It had white lace on the collar and sleeves. “I found some film that hadn’t been processed,” Bram explained.

  Claire picked up one of the photos and studied it. “I don’t remember taking this,” she said, clearly puzzled.

  “I shot them,” Bram said.

  Lauren leaned forward to get a better look. “I remember that little dress.”

  Claire put down the photograph and picked up another.

  “We have a beautiful baby, Claire,” Bram said proudly.

  Claire’s eyes filled with tears.

  Lauren shot Bram a look of contempt. How could he be so insensitive?

  Emma took Bram’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “Bram, my son, let’s go to the kitchen for coffee,” she said diplomatically.

  Claire’s eyes were riveted to one of the photographs. She turned to Lauren, her expression troubled. “I don’t remember that dress,” she said. “What kind of a mother was I? Was I so out of touch, so detached from my daughter that I can’t even remember the clothes she wore?”

  “Claire, if Ariel’s like—was like—” Lauren quickly amended, “Bailey, her closet would’ve been full of dresses. Chances are, if someone took pictures of Bailey and showed them to me months later, I wouldn’t remember the dress either.”

  “You remembered Ariel’s dress.”

  “I seldom saw Ariel. She was probably wearing that dress the last time I did. That’s why I remember.”

  Although Claire seemed to accept this, she was still clearly troubled.

  Lauren was searching for words to make Claire feel better when her cellphone rang. “Excuse me,” she said, stepping to one side of the room. The caller ID told her it was Patrick Shaw; even before she answered, she knew the police had taken him in.

  —

  As Lauren drove to the police station, she felt a sense of unease. Bram had always been responsible and reliable, certainly not someone who’d get behind the wheel of a car drunk. Was it grief that had made him so reckless? And now this business with Patrick. Lauren frowned. She had always believed in Patrick’s innocence. Now she was beginning to have doubts. Your job is not to speculate, she reminded herself. Your job is to give the best possible counsel.

  Patrick was waiting for her in a small room at the station. No charges had been laid, but he was no doubt a person of interest. Lauren found him slouched in a chair, his eyes bloodshot, his blond hair tousled. She had requested a few minutes alone with him before he was interrogated by the police. “Why did you lie to Constable Taylor?” she asked. “Why did you say you’d had no contact with Jade? Why couldn’t you tell the truth?”

  “I just couldn’t,” Patrick replied.

  “You’re going to have to do better than that, Patrick. You could be facing some very serious charges. Tell me why you lied to the police.”

  “Jade wanted drugs,” Patrick said. “Not something I could admit to Constable Taylor.”

  Lauren frowned. “Patrick, are you dealing drugs?”

  “Hell no.”

  Lauren was tempted to ask him where he’d found the money to buy the Lexus. “How long did your visit with Jade last?” she asked instead.

  “Thirty…maybe forty minutes. We smoked a couple of joints.”

  Lauren uncapped her pen and wrote in his file. “Do you know why Jade was at Comeau’s Cabins?”

  Patrick shook his head. “I asked her why she left her apartment, but she didn’t want to talk about it. I had the feeling she was in some kind of trouble.”

  “Was Cara with her?”

  “No, she was alone. Whenever I mentioned Cara, Jade got all teary. Cara was with a friend, she told me. She s
aid she was safe.” Patrick pushed his long bangs away from his eyes. “Jade was scared…like really paranoid.”

  Pot will do that.

  “She promised to call me the next day,” Patrick continued. “When I didn’t hear from her, I went back to the cabin. She’d already checked out.”

  “Patrick, the police are going to ask if you had anything to do with Jade’s death. They’re going to ask if you had anything to do with Cara’s disappearance.”

  “I absolutely did not,” he replied.

  Lauren closed his file. “Are you ready to face the detectives? This could be gruelling.”

  Nodding, Patrick got to his feet.

  Because Jade’s death had been ruled a homicide, the case was out of the hands of the local police. The officers in charge were Detectives Earl Sampson and Susan Dwyer, who had travelled from St. John’s. Both detectives were wearing street clothes. Dwyer, who looked to be in her late thirties, had on khaki pants and a white turtleneck. Her red hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. Sampson, who Lauren took to be in his late fifties, was short and so stout he looked like he might burst the seams of his grey tailored suit.

  Detective Dwyer was blunt. “Patrick Shaw: did you kill Jade Roberts?”

  “Absolutely not,” Patrick answered.

  She eyed him skeptically. “More than three thousand dollars was found in Jade’s cabin. Do you know where the money came from?”

  Patrick shook his head. “No.”

  “Why did you lie to the police, Mr. Shaw?” Detective Dwyer continued. “In your statement you said that you had no contact with Ms. Roberts after she left.”

  Patrick looked away. “I brought her some pot,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell that to the police.”

  Lauren put a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to reveal that,” she said. “The onus is on the police to prove your guilt.”

  Frowning, the detective gave Patrick a hard glare. “Do you know where Cara Roberts is?”

  Patrick shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

  “When did you last see Cara Roberts?”