Murder Knows No Season

by Cathy Ace

  All family – in so many different ways.

  ***

  SUMMER

  OUT AND ABOUT IN A BOAT

  A standalone thriller

  ‘It’ll be boring, Dad,’ whined Zack; Dave couldn’t recall everything sounding boring to him when he was fifteen.

  ‘Can we have a campfire, Dad?’ gushed Becky; at thirteen she possessed more confidence and maturity than her brother, but could still delight Dave with her childish enthusiasm.

  ‘That depends on the weather, and what level of fire alert is posted around the lake,’ replied Dave, keen that his ex-wife should see he was taking the camping trip seriously.

  ‘And you’re sure this cabin’s okay?’ Debbie sounded doubtful; she and Dave had been separated for two years, but she was still painfully aware of his ability to screw up almost anything.

  ‘Mike at work has had the cabin for years,’ replied Dave. He did his best to not snap at Debbie in front of the kids; they’d promised each other they would try to never do that, and it usually worked. Dave was eager to enjoy a weekend with his children in the wilderness, far away from PlayStations and iPhones.

  ‘Mike takes his kids there all the time,’ he added enthusiastically. ‘He’s going to run us up there in his boat, and there’s a little rowboat for us to muck about in when we’re there.’ He saw Debbie open her mouth to protest, so added quickly, ‘We’ll all wear life vests, at all times.’

  Debbie still looked uncertain. Dave pushed on.

  ‘There aren’t many weekends we can do this: Zack’s got hockey from September until May; Becky’s skating doesn’t wind up until June, and this is the only weekend in July we can have it to ourselves – come August, Mike and his family will be there every weekend. School’s just out – let’s have a little R&R? A little time just for me and the kids?’

  Dave could tell Debbie was biting her tongue. He hoped she’d see the excitement on the kids’ faces and agree with Dave that a weekend away from everything they seemed to constantly plug themselves into might not be a bad idea.

  Trying to defuse Debbie’s obvious misgivings, Dave said, ‘It’s BC’s second-largest lake, and it’s tidal too – so it’s really a fjord lake.’ He’d only just found that out so thought he’d mention it. ‘And it’s really lovely, so we all know that means it’s one of Canada’s most stunning lakes, because it is “Beautiful British Columbia” after all, eh?’

  Dave didn’t get so much as a smile from anyone for that little quip, so he just kept going. ‘And it’s just up the road, for heaven’s sake, right on our doorstep – it’s not like I’d be taking them to the other side of the world. We’ll be in the cabin within an hour of leaving the house, then Mike will come back to pick us up the next day. We’ll be out of here at eight a.m. on Saturday, and we can all four of us have dinner together on Sunday, and tell Mom all about it. Come on, kids – it’ll be fun.’ Dave wasn’t going to beg, but he’d get as close as he could.

  ‘Why can’t I take my PlayStation?’ asked Zack, still whining.

  ‘Because we’ll be too busy hiking and fishing and bird watching and cooking up a storm for you to want it,’ replied Dave, trying to make the alternative forms of entertainment he’d planned sound just as exciting as some multi-level war between androids and aliens . . . and probably zombies.

  Zack didn’t look convinced.

  ‘I could make S’mores,’ said Becky sweetly to Zack. ‘You like S’mores.’

  Zack grunted, which Dave took to mean he was going to go along with the plan.

  ‘I’ll organize the food and drink,’ volunteered Debbie.

  ‘But we’ll be fishing,’ was Dave’s bright reply.

  ‘Well, best to be prepared – just in case you don’t catch anything,’ said Debbie with a sigh.

  Dave was delighted; he didn’t want to bother with all that kind of boring, practical stuff – he was thinking about fishing lines, trail maps, and compasses. He’d bring along his old guitar, and they could play the board games Mike had told him were stored at the cabin. Dave could picture it clearly – just him and the children, the magnificence of nature all around them, freshly caught fish grilling on an open fire. Wonderful. Idyllic.

  ‘I’ll be here at seven thirty on Saturday morning,’ said Dave to Debbie as he walked away from the family house in Pitt Meadows to return to his apartment in Coquitlam.

  ‘Don’t be late. Don’t let them down, Dave,’ called Debbie. She looked worried.

  ‘I don’t know why you say that. You’re always saying that,’ snapped Dave, sure the children were out of earshot. ‘I can manage to look after my own children for one night, you know.’ He hated that Debbie had no confidence in him. ‘I’ll be here on time, and we’ll have great fun.’ He spoke with conviction, hoisting himself into his aged, gas-guzzling pickup.

  He pulled at the screeching, ill-fitting door. ‘They’ll have a weekend they’ll never forget,’ he shouted cheerily as he pulled away.

  It was seven fifty-three a.m. on Saturday morning when Dave’s truck ground to a halt outside the family house. Debbie was peering through the window, and she, Zack and Becky were out of the front door before he could even unbuckle his seatbelt.

  ‘I knew you’d be late,’ hissed Debbie accusingly as she loaded cooler boxes into the back of the pickup. ‘They thought you’d forgotten. Becky was almost in tears. Why the hell didn’t you phone?’ Debbie was seething, battling to keep her voice down.

  Dave was angry with himself; he thought he’d got up in time to get everything done – but he’d run out of the apartment without his phone so he’d had to go back for it, then he’d realized he hadn’t charged it overnight so he couldn’t call Debbie because he had to charge it in the truck where he wasn’t able to talk hands-free, and then the traffic was snarled. He’d had to stop for gas on the way because he was totally out; it had been one thing on top of another – all conspiring to make him late.

  As Dave apologized to the children, Debbie kept loading boxes. And more boxes. And backpacks.

  ‘You know we’re only going for one night, right?’ was Dave’s exasperated observation when the back of the pickup was half full.

  ‘Which means you’ll need bedding, a couple of changes of clothes, swimsuits, sandals, blankets, towels, food, water, and a full medical kit. I guess you hadn’t thought of any of that, had you?’ Debbie was still hissing at Dave.

  ‘I’ll just spit on a bit of old tee-shirt and they’ll clean up fine, right kids?’ responded Dave, mugging for the kids’ sakes.

  ‘Don’t even joke about it!’ snapped Debbie.

  Dave hadn’t been joking.

  She continued, ‘I’ve packed sunscreen, antihistamine spray and antibiotic spray, bug spray, bandages, and a sling. There’s all sorts in there – everything you could possibly need. Okay?’

  ‘Sure,’ answered Dave, sighing.

  ‘I’ve checked the batteries in the flashlights – all three of them, and I’ve put in spare batteries. Got it?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘The toilet paper is in with the bedding.’

  Toilet paper hadn’t even occurred to Dave.

  ‘I’ve put Zack’s blue sandals with his blue shorts, and his brown sandals with his brown shorts.’

  ‘Why does he need two pairs of sandals?’ asked Dave, mystified.

  ‘Because he’s like his dad used to be – fussy about his clothes.’

  ‘I was never fussy about my clothes,’ he said with certainty.

  ‘This from the man who took longer to pick out his Grad tux than I did my Grad dress,’ said Debbie, rolling her eyes.

  Dave could remember no such thing, but admitted to himself that Debbie was much better than him at remembering things – especially when they were arguing.

  ‘And listen,’ Debbie pulled Dave close, ‘Becky has packed a small stuffed dog in with her bedding. It’s George, her favorite. If you see it, don’t mention it. It doesn’t exist – right?’

  ‘Sure,’ said
Dave sighing again. He added a tired, ‘Whatever,’ which he knew immediately was a big mistake.

  ‘Don’t “whatever” me!’ Debbie was whispering as loudly as possible. ‘Listen Dave, you’re responsible for these children for a whole two days, and I know how difficult it is for you to act responsibly when it’s just you looking after just you . . .’

  Oh God, thought Dave, here we go again . . .

  ‘. . . so buck up and be a father, Dave, not just a big kid. You’re the adult – act like one.’

  Dave waved with relief as they finally pulled out of the drive. It was ten past eight, and they were supposed to meet Mike in five minutes. Once they got around the corner, out of Debbie’s sight, Dave floored it, which Zack loved. Becky tutted. They finally arrived at the boat launch at the south end of Pitt Lake ten minutes late.

  Not bad, thought Dave, congratulating himself on a super-quick trip.

  ‘Sorry, Mike,’ said Dave smiling, as he jumped out of the truck. ‘Debbie wasn’t quite ready, and then we had to pack this lot.’ Dave rolled his eyes toward the back of the truck.

  ‘They’re all the same,’ replied Mike. His work colleague was smiling, but Dave wasn’t convinced he’d bought his excuse.

  It took thirty minutes to pack everything and everyone into the boat and get going.

  As they cut through the rippling water, Zack chatted happily to Mike at the wheel. Dave hadn’t seen him so animated in months; if Zack managed a five-word sentence in Dave’s company it was usually because he was complaining about something. Becky, on the other hand, who hardly ever stopped talking, was silently gripping the sides of her seat with both hands. It took about twenty minutes of bumpy motoring across the vastness of Pitt Lake to reach its farthest extremities, then about twenty more minutes of slow meandering through shallow waters to finally reach the cabin, which was situated at the end of a narrow finger of water almost completely cut off from the rest of the lake by a large sandbank.

  Mike tied the boat to the end of the wooden pier which he proudly announced he and his boys had constructed during previous summers, while Dave walked with Becky to dry land. She didn’t offer to help unload the boat, but went away to sit quietly on the rocky shoreline while the boys did the work. Dave thought she looked pale, but she didn’t complain, or throw up – for which Dave was grateful.

  ‘I’m fine, Dad,’ she said weakly when he asked how she was feeling. Dave ruffled her hair and left her to sit for a moment.

  Mike opened up the cabin with a flourish; Dave was somewhat dismayed – he’d expected something truly ‘cabin-like’, but the place was more like a shack. A newish-looking green metal roof sat awkwardly atop a rickety cedar plank structure, which had weathered to silver-grey with the passing years. The heavily padlocked door opened onto a large room, which was obviously the only living space. One small window allowed a little light to filter in; the freshly disturbed dust glittered in a shaft of sun. A collection of mismatched dining chairs sat around an old kitchen table, a badly deteriorated tan ‘pleather’ sofa almost hid a number of cots stacked against the wall.

  Mike pulled a small, rusty grill from a corner of the room, and set it up outside with the new bottle of propane he’d brought, well away from the cabin beside a log-built picnic table and benches.

  ‘Where’s the bathroom?’ asked Becky. Dave was worried his daughter was feeling sick to her stomach, but she told him not to fuss; at least her color had returned to normal.

  ‘Round the back,’ replied Mike, ‘I’ll show you.’ He walked them all to the outhouse; Dave could tell by his daughter’s face that the realization of what ‘roughing it’ really meant was beginning to dawn upon her, and she wasn’t impressed.

  Zack laughed at his sister’s face-pulling; Becky pointed out that Zack had to use the outhouse too and that it smelled, but that he probably wouldn’t notice because he was so stinky himself.

  Dave tried to keep the peace, at least until Mike had gone.

  The two men returned to the boat to check they’d unloaded everything.

  ‘The trail map showing the route to the tree house is on the pinboard in the cabin,’ Mike reminded Dave, ‘and don’t forget this,’ he added, as he handed a long, slim, metal box to Dave. ‘Here’s the key.’

  ‘A gun case?’ Dave was surprised.

  ‘Of course,’ said Mike. ‘There are cougars and bears up here, and they’re not used to humans being on their patch. You never know, you might need it. You know how to use a gun, right?’

  ‘Of course,’ lied Dave, taking the surprisingly heavy box from his work colleague. He’d never held a gun case before, let alone a gun.

  ‘Good. I guess you don’t have a permit, though?’ Dave shook his head. Mike shrugged. ‘Unlikely anyone will check. I’d be happier knowing it’s here with you, rather than with me in Maple Ridge; you’re more likely to need it than me. The rowboat’s inside the cabin, behind the door – don’t forget to tie it up properly, right?’ said Mike.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘And the fire alert is orange, so you can have a small campfire, but make sure you douse any embers, right?’

  ‘Sure.’ Dave thought Mike was beginning to sound a lot like Debbie.

  ‘And don’t forget – the kids don’t leave that cabin alone after dark unless you go with them, right?’

  ‘Sure,’ replied Dave wearily, wondering why they couldn’t go to the outhouse without him.

  ‘They won’t know what a bear in the bush sounds like, you will – won’t you?’ asked Mike, as if replying to Dave’s inner question.

  ‘Sure.’ Dave had no idea what a bear would sound like either in or out of the bush, he’d only ever seen one at a distance. Thank goodness. ‘You go on back now, Mike – we’ll be fine, honest.’ Dave tried to sound convincing.

  Good grief, they were only going to be there for a day – what could possibly happen in just a day? Dave waved goodbye to Mike and turned to face the cabin.

  ‘Da-ad – Zack pushed me over and I’ve cut my leg,’ cried Becky sitting on the hard, dry ground surrounding the cabin; she was covered in dust, and sobbing.

  ‘No I didn’t,’ retorted Zack.

  ‘Yes you did – you did it on purpose,’ whined Becky.

  ‘Well you started it, calling me “stinky”,’ responded Zack, kicking dust at his sister.

  ‘Stop it you two,’ shouted Dave as he carried the gun case along the little wooden pier. ‘I don’t care who started it, or what “it” is. Becky – wash that cut in the lake, and I’ll find the medical box.’

  Dave was beginning to suspect that a day might turn out to be a lot longer than he’d thought.

  It took the three of them some time to sort out the cabin; they tended to Becky’s leg, then unpacked, cleaned the dead spiders off the cots and set them up with the bedding, and finally agreed it was time to all change into their swimsuits.

  Dave and Zack waited outside the cabin so Becky could have some privacy, then she waited outside the cabin while the boys changed.

  Dave reckoned it would take them about thirty seconds, but he hadn’t factored in the time it took Zack to pull his bizarrely long board-shorts down onto his theoretical hips, then up again, then down again, making almost imperceptible adjustments until the shorts were at what was, apparently, exactly the right level. Dave pointed out several times that it was just him and his sister who’d see Zack, but Zack replied that it didn’t matter – they had to be in the right spot.

  ‘Da-ad,’ Becky shouted through the half-open door, ‘I know it’s July and it’ll get hot today, but that water felt super cold when I washed my leg; I don’t think I want to go swimming.’

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ replied Dave, pulling on his faded swimming shorts in an instant and emerging from the cabin triumphant. ‘Come help me with the boat.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Becky, brightening.

  ‘Can I jump off the pier, Dad?’ shouted Zack as he ran along the creaking wooden structure.

  ‘No – you
don’t know how deep it is there,’ his father replied sharply.

  ‘Yes I do; it’s four meters at the end of the pier – Mike’s boat has a depth-finder and a fish-finder, and it showed four meters there.’

  Dave was amazed at his son’s powers of observation – not something he’d noticed before.

  ‘Go on then – but be careful.’ Dave had barely finished speaking when he heard a tremendous splash and a joyful whoop; he suspected that the carefully positioned board-shorts wouldn’t remain in ‘the right spot’ for long.

  He and Becky dragged the boat to the shore; it was a funny little thing – bright yellow fiberglass and shaped like a frog’s body, with leg-like extensions that Mike had confidently announced gave it great stability. Dave wasn’t familiar with the style of boat, but – truth be told – he hadn’t been in a rowboat since his teens, when he and his dad had gone fishing together a handful of times. But he knew how to row, that was the important thing.

  ‘Life vests?’ asked Becky, her little arms folded just like her mother’s as she stood over the frog-like boat that still sat safely on the rocky shoreline.

  ‘Of course,’ replied Dave, pointedly, ‘you can fetch them from the cabin, and bring one for Zack too.’

  Zack had swum to shore and was shaking himself off. ‘Dad, when are we gonna eat?’ he asked, plaintively.

  ‘Didn’t your mother give you breakfast?’ asked Dave, surprised.

  ‘Yeah – but that was hours ago,’ replied Zack sulkily. ‘I’m starving.’

  Dave looked at his watch – it was only ten thirty a.m.

  ‘We’ll eat in a couple of hours,’ he said.

  ‘Here, Mom packed these for you,’ shouted Becky as she threw a bunch of trail-mix bars at Zack.

  Zack ripped one open and ate greedily. Dave wondered when Zack’s appetite had kicked in; when he’d moved out of the family home it was all you could do to get the boy to eat anything, he’d been so picky about his food. But that was a couple of years ago, Dave reminded himself, and boys could change a lot between thirteen and fifteen. Tough times.