Cornwall and Redfern Mysteries 2-Book Bundle (28 page)

When I returned to the hospital the next afternoon, Redfern was sleeping. They had finished topping him up with whole blood, but a clear fluid now dripped into the back of his hand. I sat in a chair by his bed and put my size fives on the steel railing. My arm had been stitched and wrapped, and a sling provided support for the healing tissue. Sun was pouring into the room, and I was as content as a cat on a windowsill.

The Belcourts bought my swamp that morning. Chesley had gone out at the crack of dawn to look over the property on his own, and had brought back enthusiastic reports and pictures of, not only the
Cypri
-thing, but other wondrous plants that, since he used the Latin names, I couldn't pretend to care about. He had taken several photos of the spotted turtles on their log. I had managed not to shudder as I looked at the strange, alien eyes peering into the lens.

Chesley could do no wrong as far as Ivy was concerned. Not once I relayed the story of his courage as he subdued a maniacal murderer until the police arrived. I left out the part about climbing a tree and tossing pinecones at Sarah. Now Chesley was basking in the glow of his mother's pride, and even Rae watched him with a soft look in her eye.

I put a stop to that mutual admiration rapport by sending Rae to clean Glory's house. Even Glory couldn't expect me to work with my arm in a sling and I knew Rae was a clean freak.

I looked at my watch. I would have to look in on Rae and make sure Glory hadn't already stuck her severed head on a pike at the front gates to warn off other aspiring cleaners. Glory was just going to have to get used to someone else vacuuming her Persian rugs and dusting the crown moulding.

I had been tossing around an idea and had decided to use some of my settlement money to start a cleaning business. Holly Duffett could help me out with the names of some women who shopped at the Second Hand Rose and who might be interested in working for me. Until I learned how to run a business, I would send Rae to Glory's three mornings a week. I remembered I had two new cleaning jobs lined up for Fridays, and Fern Brickle still needed me on Wednesday afternoons. I would have to get someone else on the payroll, fast.

My BlackBerry chirped. I looked up at Redfern, but he slumbered on, so I answered Dougal's call.

“Hey, Bliss. Where have you been? I hear you saved Chief Redfern's life. Good for you. Anyway, if you want to see Thor one last time, you better come over. He's starting to collapse.”

“Is he still stinking up the place?”

“No, that's all gone. Mrs. Boudreau is back, though. The drug bust really upset her, but she's better now. She's making a sirloin roast for dinner, with mashed potatoes and salad, if you want to join me and Holly.”

I heard Simon in the background, extolling the plea-sures of sex in the mud, or maybe it was sex in the tub. I couldn't quite make it out.

“Doesn't that bird talk about anything other than cannabis and fornication?”

“You're using pretty big words these days, Bliss. Don't let your new notoriety go to your head. You're still just a little freak with an oversized mouth.”

“And, even though you may be a published author and part owner of a greenhouse, to me you will always be just my agoraphobic moron of a cousin.”

“Fuck you.” But I could tell his heart wasn't in it.

“No, fuck you. And tell Holly I'll be there for dinner, and have my thousand-dollar cheque ready.”

I snapped the phone shut and placed it on the small table beside the bed.

“You're such a people person, Cornwall.” Redfern sounded sleepy, but his voice was strong.

“That was Dougal. I'm fine with real people.”

“How long have you been sitting here in my room?”

“Just long enough to realize you don't snore.” I didn't want him to think I was keeping vigil at his bedside.

“That might turn out to be relevant some day.”

“Get over your arrogant self, Redfern.”

“It will be hard to remain my arrogant self around you, Cornwall.”

“So long as we're clear on that.”

“You saved my life.”

“So, you owe me one,” I replied.

A gravelly voice said from the doorway, “Why don't you two quit dancing and get at it?”

I almost didn't recognize the man leaning against the door jamb. He was clean-shaven, with a craggy, angular face, wearing jeans and a sand-coloured tee-shirt. But the smoke-damaged voice and the long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail were the giveaways.

“Well,” I said, “if it isn't Snake, the undercover cop from Toronto.”

Both men looked at me, then at each other.

“When did you figure that out?” asked Redfern.

“Almost from the first time I met Snake, I knew he wasn't a regular biker,” I said. That was one of the biggest whoppers I had ever told.

They both looked concerned, and Snake said, “Guess I'm not as good at undercover as I thought. What gave me away?”

I tried to backtrack. “Just instinct. Can you tell me what your real name is?” I hadn't noticed before how wide Snake's shoulders were, and his dark eyes crinkled at the corners when he frowned. I guessed he might be Italian, or maybe Greek.

“No, he can't,” Redfern answered for him. “I'm sure you understand.”

“Sure,” I said. “Then, can you tell me why you were chasing me through the cemetery?”

“I didn't know it was you,” Snake said. “A rival faction was trying to move in on the Quigley operation, and I thought we might have been followed to the cemetery. We were moving some inventory from the mausoleum that night.”

“You came at me out of the fog later, though. You scared the shit out of me.”

“You scared the shit out of me, too. And, my boys are still smarting from that sucker kick you gave me.”

“Sorry about that. It was my knee, actually.”

I thought for a moment. “I suppose it was Julian Barnfeather who thought of the mausoleum as a drop site.”

“You don't need to know any more, Cornwall,” said Redfern. “The details will come out at trial, and, in the meantime, the less you know the better.”

“Whose trial? Surely everyone involved is dead — Julian, Jerry, Ewan. And Sarah is certifiably bonkers.”

“We have hopes for a few arrests in the near future,” acknowledged Snake. “But the war isn't over, and now I'm heading back to the city. I'd appreciate it, Miss Bliss, if you would keep to yourself the fact that there was an undercover officer involved in this exercise.”

“My lips are permanently sealed,” I promised.

Snake reached into his pocket. “Before I forget, I have something for you.”

He handed me the snake's head buckle with the ruby eyes.

“Oh. Thanks, Snake. I love it.” I held the object so the eyes caught the light. “This will look great with my red Savage.”

Snake smiled, showing even, white teeth. “Glad I can help accessorize you.”

“Probably not a good idea, bud,” said Redfern. “She already thinks she's a bad-ass desperado on wheels.

“I have one question before you go,” I said to Snake.

“Ask me anything, but I probably can't answer.”

“Why such a big deal, undercover and everything, for pot? I mean, you guys were going at it like there was heroin involved.”

“But it is a big deal, Miss Bliss. Somewhere at the end of all these small pot operations is a master criminal, likely the leader of one of the major outlaw biker gangs, who is shipping heroin and other bad shit all over this country. We begin at the bottom and follow the money, and would still be following Ewan Quigley if his wife hadn't murdered Jerry Corwin. Ewan and I knew she had done it, of course. And Neil and I knew we would have to shut down Ewan's operation, but we wanted to see where the marijuana from the mausoleum would take us. The other gentleman in the cemetery was a biker, and I hoped he would lead me further into the organization.” Snake stopped and looked at Redfern, as if questioning whether he had said too much.

So the other man in the cemetery hadn't been Ewan Quigley. “Did you get the guy? Is he in jail now?”

“Somehow, in the confusion, he got away. With the cache, I'm afraid.” Snake sighed dramatically.

“I see.”

Snake and Redfern conferred silently again, and I got the idea there was more to this story than they would ever tell me. Fair enough. But …

“But why didn't you arrest Sarah if you knew she killed Jerry. I mean, really, Rae and I were living right on her doorstep. And she tried to kill me!” I looked at Redfern as I said this, but Snake answered.

“Neil was asked to stand down for twenty-four hours. He did his best to make sure you and Rae stayed away from Hemp Hollow without actually telling you why. None of us believed Sarah would go after her own husband.”

I had a few thoughts about that, but kept them to myself. Whoever was piloting this fight against drugs, some desk jockey high up in the hierarchy of the OPP or RCMP, could not have factored in a mentally ill woman driven to desperate action by neglect.

“Well, gotta go. I'll let you two get on with your courting.” Snake's eyes met mine, and he winked.

He and Redfern did those strange male ritual things like bumping knuckles and whacking each other's shoulders. Then he left as suddenly as he arrived and we listened to his hoarse chuckle echo down the hall until it, too, disappeared.

“You're not leaving, too?” Redfern asked me. “I'll be all alone in my bed of pain.”

“I'm pretty sure you're not in any pain, Redfern. You seem pretty cheerful for someone who almost had his leg sliced off. Good drugs?”

He winced. “You bet. And, it was just a nicked artery.”

My BlackBerry sounded again, and I held a finger up to Redfern. He shook his head and lay back on his pillows.

“Hi, Dad. Is anything wrong?” My parents rarely called me, preferring their own weird brand of texting.

By the time I disconnected, I had more to smile about.

“I've got a place to live now,” I told Redfern. “The MacPhersons are moving back to Hamilton. After the drug bust you spearheaded on the old and infirm, they've decided to blow this pot-intolerant town. Apparently their own tenants in Hamilton are moving out, so they're leaving Lockport by the end of the week. And I'm moving in. No more trailer for Bliss Cornwall.”

“If that dollar amount I heard is your rent, your dad almost has to pay you to stay in his house.”

“I might even make some money. I'm going to ask Rae if she wants to rent a room from me.”

“Rae? You mean Rae from …”

“Yes, that Rae. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not me, but you might. Once in the life, it's hard to get out and stay out. And I can't turn a blind eye forever.”

“Everybody deserves a second chance. I have plans for Rae that will keep her hands busy in a wholly legitimate manner. And I'll be around to kick start her if she falters.”

“We'll see,” he said dubiously. “There's something else you need to know before you leave. You better sit down.”

“What's that? Did somebody tell you I kicked Sarah Quigley in the head while she was handcuffed on the ground?”

He didn't look surprised. “Not that. After you were run off the road, I asked Dwayne to check all light-
coloured SUVs in the area. He got several hits, one quite interesting.”

“Who?”

“Dwayne found a silver metallic GMC Yukon registered to your ex-husband.”

“The Weasel tried to kill me! I accused him, but he denied it.”

“Take it easy, Cornwall. I dropped in on the mayor and his wife yesterday before all the excitement in Hemp Hollow. Naturally, they didn't admit anything. And, since the vehicle didn't actually hit you, there are no scratches or paint transfer to go on. By her demeanour, I think Mrs. Bains was driving the Yukon that night, and her husband didn't know about her intent. I don't believe she actually wanted to kill you. When Alyce's tricks didn't work, Andrea probably hoped to put you out of commission long enough to miss the tax deadline. Anyway, that's my opinion. I can't charge her, but you might want to stay out of her way.”

The Weasel said he would get even with me? I had been ready to ask Dougal to delete the copies of the photo he had saved on his computer drives, but I changed my mind. I wanted to be done with the Weasels, but somehow I knew we would clash again. Next time, I'd be prepared.

Redfern watched me drop my BlackBerry and the snakes' head belt buckle into my tote bag.

“Cornwall? Do you still think I'm bent?”

“No.”

“I'm glad to hear it.”

I stood up and adjusted the sling while I waited for the throbbing in my arm to ease. “Gotta go. I've never actually been invited to Dougal's for dinner before, and I'd hate to miss it. Although I'll probably have to clear the table and take out the trash afterward.”

“Before you leave, could you hand me that glass of water?”

I walked over to his bedside, but before I could reach for the water Redfern captured my hand. His grip was strong and inviting, and I let my hand rest in his for a moment.

He pulled me closer. “Do you know what you need, Cornwall?”

“I need a new BlackBerry. If you say I need a man, you'll be yelling for an extra shot of pain meds in a minute.”

“There's the Cornwall I lust after. The correct answer is fun. You need to have fun again.”

“Fun is my middle name. Everyone says so.”

“When I have two good legs under me, we could take a ride in the country on our bikes, stop for a romantic dinner.”

“Do you think your Goldwing can keep up with my Savage?”

He laughed, then winced and carefully straightened his leg. “I'm confused. Is that a yes?”

“Fine, let's do it.”

What the heck.