The Frailty of Flesh (21 page)

“Wouldn’t it be better to take the opportunity to go to the Reimer house?” Zidani asked. “This gets you in the door.”

“But they aren’t even staying there. We don’t know where Smythe has them. And if the kidnappers are watching the house they’ll see us.”

“What if we set up a safe house?” Tain asked. “Someplace neutral.”

Zidani drummed his fingers on his desk for a moment. “I don’t know. We don’t know if there’s a kidnapper, but we do know there’s an alleged kidnapper. If that person’s serious, they may be watching the Reimer family already. They have their cell phone number, so it’s possible they know they aren’t at home. The only place Richard and Tracy Reimer can go that you can access without raising suspicions is their lawyer’s office.”

“Can we at least do a check on Richard Reimer’s cell phone to see if there’s anything useful for us to track the kidnapper?”

Zidani shook his head. “Look, we could go ten rounds in court with Byron Smythe, and we might eventually win. He’s got nothing to lose, but we simply don’t have the resources or the time. If the parents are involved in Jeffrey’s death, Smythe will use every loophole possible to keep them out of jail. My gut tells me we have to prove this without forcing cooperation. Or at least try.” He looked at Ashlyn. “Tain can handle this if you prefer.”

She shook her head. “This is still my case.”

He raised his hand. “I know. But under the circumstances—”

“I’m going to do my job. If Byron Smythe doesn’t like it, he can hand his clients over to another lawyer.”

She didn’t look away. After a moment Zidani nodded. “Okay. Go talk to Smythe. I’ll get a team together and we’ll monitor the cell phone. We treat this as though it’s legitimate, but we don’t stop looking for Shannon.”

“Til I Am Myself Again” was on the radio as Craig merged into the traffic on the Trans Canada highway, heading east to Langley The morning had brought with it clear skies and a biting cold, a blanket of white still covering the earth from the night before. To the north the mountains shimmered in the winter sun, which reminded him of home. He’d grown up in the interior, so he was used to snow-covered mountains and a crisp, winter chill in the air. The image was so strong he could almost smell the pine from when he’d gone skiing. That was the only thing about home that he missed. Real winter.

It was late enough that the roads had been cleared as well as could be expected, but snow was rare enough in the Lower Mainland for the average resident to forget how to drive in it. There were those who saw the winter conditions as an invitation to drive a lot faster than normal and those who drove dangerously slow. It took longer than he expected to reach the Harrington house, and when he arrived there was no answer at the door.

The school Hope had attended was his second option. After speaking to the secretary and principal, he navigated the hallways until he found Ms. Hill’s room.

“You look a bit old for remedial English, and I don’t recognize you as one of my parents,” she said when he knocked on the open door.

He held up his ID. “Constable Craig Nolan, Coquitlam RCMP.”

A murmur rippled through the classroom, gasps of shock, and one boy in the back called out, “Whaddya do, Ms. Hell?” which was rewarded with laughter.

She sighed, pushed her graying hair back behind her ears, shuffled into the hall and pulled the door shut behind her. “How can I help you?”

“You taught here ten years ago?”

“And then some.” She smiled wryly. “What’s this about?”

“You remember this girl?” Craig passed her a photo.

The corners of her mouth sagged. “Of course. Hope Harrington. Just terrible what happened.” She passed the photo back. “Hope’s boyfriend was convicted of murder. It was such a shame.”

“I was wondering if you remember any of Hope’s friends, students she was particularly close to.”

“Well, let me see. Wendy Burns. They talked a lot in class. And I caught her passing notes with…” Ms. Hill pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment. “Brandy Hicks.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know if either of those girls still lives around here?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Sorry. What’s this about? Are you finally going to do something about Donny?”

Craig looked up from jotting the names down in his notebook. “What do you mean by that?”

“Donny was a sweet boy. He wasn’t going to find a cure for cancer, and he wasn’t going to be a political leader or win an Olympic medal, but he seemed nice. Some kids”—she nodded at the window to her classroom, which betrayed the students throwing paper planes in the back of the room, the ones passing notes and giggling, and the few attempting to do classwork— “are nothing but trouble. Donny was never going to change the world, but he carried Hope’s books when he walked her down the hall and always spoke to teachers with respect, which is more than I can say for most of them. I never believed he killed her.”

She reached for the door. “Is that everything?”

Craig nodded. “Thanks for your time.” He passed her a card. “If you think of anything else.”

The sound of chaos in the classroom spilled into the hall as the door opened. As Craig walked away he could hear the teacher trying to restore order.

Donny Lockridge had a good lawyer now, and Byron Smythe wouldn’t leave any stone unturned. Witnesses like Ms. Hill would strengthen his case, but her description of Donny Lockridge didn’t match the testimony given at trial. Donny had been seen fighting with Hope a few days before her murder.

He flipped back through his notebook. Lisa Harrington had claimed she saw Donny hit Hope.

When he got to his vehicle he phoned directory assistance and kept them busy until he had three phone numbers to follow up with. After a few calls he had an address.

Wendy Burns answered the door hastily, one baby slung on her hip, another crawling down the hall and two preschoolers chasing each other around the dining room table. The dining room was to the right. To his left there was a small living room with an old couch, an older chair and a rug covered with so many toys Craig wasn’t sure what color it was.

“Max! Tyler! I warned you already. Stop it right now.”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee! ”

Wendy grabbed the screaming boy’s arm. “That’s enough, Tyler. To your room. Now.”

Max ran by and thudded Tyler on the back of the head, which made him really start crying.

Wendy thrust the baby into Craig’s arms and started chasing Max around the table. “Get over here right now, or you’re gonna get a spanking.”

A crash from down the hall was followed by a split-second silence and then the wailing of the other baby.

“Look what you’ve done,” Wendy muttered as she dragged the boys down the hall. Now all three children were screaming. It was a Tylenol commercial in the making.

Craig looked at the baby in his arms. A girl. Dark hair, dark eyes. A little dimple on her cheek. He extended a finger, which she wrapped her hand around.

Doors shut down the hallway, which muffled some of the crying. “Sorry about that,” Wendy said as she scooped up the toddler in the hall and disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned the boy had an arrowroot cookie he was sucking on. Wendy grabbed a tissue and wiped the snot from his nose.

“Constable Craig Nolan,” he said to Wendy as he smiled at the little girl in his arms.

“Sorry to leave you there like that.”

“It’s okay. Four kids. I imagine that’s quite a handful.”

“Fifth one’s at school. You have kids?”

“No.”

“They’re wonderful.” She said it like she meant it, then laughed. “When they’re sleeping, anyway.”

“I was hoping to ask you some questions about Hope Harrington.”

“Wow. Hope. That one in your arms is named for her, you know?”

“She looks like her. Except for the dark eyes.”

“What do you want to ask me? I never witnessed her murder or anything, and they sent Donny away.”

“Do you think he killed her?”

Wendy didn’t look confused or surprised. Her expression was blank. “Well, I mean, the jury said he did. Back then, I guess I figured they were right.”

“And now?”

“Donny didn’t seem that bad. He treated Hope nice.”

“But if they’d argued? Maybe he wanted something and she refused?”

Wendy shook her head as she set the toddler down. “I never saw them fight. Actually, Donny’s family was movin’ away. Buying a business in Kelowna. Donny wanted Hope to go with them.” She paused. “That’s what Hope said, anyway.”

“His parents were okay with that?”

“Who knows? Hope lived half in a dream world. Thought Donny was Prince Charming, you know?”

“Did Donny ever get in fights at school, ever show he was capable of getting violent?”

Wendy shrugged. “Not much. But there was once, someone said something about Hope’s mother. He messed that guy up pretty good.”

“Why would school kids be talking about Lisa?”

“Hope’s mom was what you’d call friendly, if you know what I mean.” She looked away, hand on her hip, then sighed. “There were some guys from school who used to score off her. And from what I heard, with her. Sometimes Hope would stay with Brandy, just to get enough sleep for school. Her mother partied more than she did.”

Craig considered that. It was obvious Lisa had cleaned herself up, and Hope’s murder might have been the reason…But hadn’t Lisa said Hope had broken up with Donny? “Did either Hope or Donny use?”

Wendy turned away, tidying up the lunch dishes still on the table.

“I’m not here to judge,” he said. “Just trying to figure out what happened.”

“Not Hope.”

“Donny?”

She carried the dishes back to the kitchen and when she returned her arms were folded across her chest. “I never saw him. But…” Wendy looked away and shrugged.

“But you thought maybe he was.”

“He hung out there sometimes, even if Hope was working or at my house.”

“And when was the last time you saw Hope?”

“Just after school, the day she was murdered. Check your files. I told the cops all this back then.”

“Do you remember which officer you spoke to?”

“Dale, Daly, something like that. When I saw Hope she told me she was either going to get married and move to Kelowna with Donny’s family or break up with him. I thought she was nuts.”

“Is that where Donny’s family is now?”

“Yeah. They moved after the trial.”

“Any reason for the breakup plans? Did she tell you why she was giving him an ultimatum?”

Wendy shook her head as she lifted the boy off the floor and set him down on the couch with his cookie and tossed a few toys into a pile on the far side of the room as she cleared a path to the door. She took Hope from Craig’s arms.

He handed her a card. “If you think of anything else.”

“Donny’s lawyer’s already been here. I know about the court case.”

“Let’s say Donny didn’t kill her. Is there someone you can think of, someone who was violent with Hope or who was obsessed with her who might be upset that she was moving away anyone at all that the police overlooked?”

“The only person who ever had a problem with Hope was her mother. My mom wouldn’t let me go to their house. Lisa was always hitting Hope, yelling at her, telling her she was no good.” Wendy paused. “Once, she said she made a mistake when she took Hope away from her father.”

“I thought Lisa had always had custody of Hope.”

“Sorry. I have no idea. I know Hope had been asking questions, and she couldn’t find any pictures of herself under the age of three. Lisa brushed it off, said her dad had kept them all. Then Hope started asking about him and Lisa got pretty mad. ‘After all I’ve done for you, after all I’ve sacrificed you’d just run off? No good for nothin’, ungrateful little bitch.’ You get the idea.”

Craig understood the questions and the reaction. It reminded him of his own fights with his mother before he’d found out about Steve. “Did Hope keep asking?”

“Far as I know she gave up.”

“And Lisa was using back then?”

“I guess. I don’t know. But I’d known Hope all my life. Broken arms, cuts, bruises. When we were kids that wasn’t that unusual, you know?” She looked Craig straight in the eye. “Most of us knew how to duck fast when we had to. You know what I mean.”

He nodded. “I’m not saying it’s right, but you know there are lots of parents that smack their kids that aren’t murderers.”

“Yeah, but Lisa had been convicted for assault before.”

Another thing that wasn’t in the file.

“And what about Brandy Hicks? Are you still in touch with her?” he asked.

Wendy looked away, then held up a finger as she went to the kitchen. “Not really,” she said when she returned. “But Brandy married Donny’s older brother.”

She passed him a photo, a young couple who looked happy, the girl holding up an engagement ring. And around her neck was a locket, one that looked familiar.

“Do you remember when this was taken?”

“A few months after Donny went to jail, I guess. Brandy and Darren got close when Hope was killed. We all went to support Donny, you know?”