The Frailty of Flesh (39 page)

He skimmed the contents, then stopped, picked it up, got up and passed it to the deputy chief constable.

“It says there that social services spoke to Parker four times and have been waiting on a report from him for over a month.”

The deputy chief glanced at Ashlyn. “Look, he’s a young officer. He’s made a few mistakes.”

“A few? He screwed up the routine search on Friday. He missed the murder weapon. Then he wasn’t thorough at the hospital. If he’d done his job, we might have found Shannon Reimer that afternoon, and it’s possible four people would still be alive. He fell asleep while monitoring the family home.”

“Hang on. Christopher was in the house with his father. Now that we know he shot him, there was nothing anyone could have done to stop that from happening.”

“But he might have been able to prevent Christopher from leaving. Too late for Richard, but not too late to save Shannon and Tracy.”

“Parker tells me you’ve been on him since day one because you didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

“That’s Parker’s excuse because he was responsible for supervising Christopher Reimer while we covered the crime scene. He failed to get Christopher food or water, and left him in the back of an unheated cruiser. The boy was numb and in shock. The fact that he was the killer doesn’t change that. We didn’t know that then.”

The deputy chief hesitated, looked at Zidani, who held up his hand. “We can’t bail you out here. Two people were murdered inside Byron Smythe’s home. If he catches wind of Parker’s track record he’ll have a case for incompetence.”

“And if we discipline Parker we admit our guilt.”

“If you do nothing you’re condoning his actions,” Zidani said. “We’ve got our own case right now. We can’t afford to take some mud for you over this one, and from what I’ve seen Parker isn’t worth it.”

The deputy chief constable stood and nodded. “Suspended without pay, pending the outcome of an internal investigation.”

He shook Zidani’s hand, then Ashlyn’s.

“Be sure to tell Parker I wish him happy holidays,” she said.

The deputy chief glanced at Zidani, then opened the door and walked out.

“Was that really necessary?” Zidani asked her.

“I don’t know, but it felt good.”

They’d been driving for less than an hour when Craig’s cell phone rang.

“Do you mind?” he asked Emma.

She answered it.

“Yes, this is his number.” A pause as her cheeks colored. “Yes, I am. He’s driving. Can I—” She nodded and started rummaging through her bag, extracting a pen and pad of paper. “Right. Thanks.”

When Emma hung up she was still scribbling notes. Craig was trying to decipher them. “Is that shorthand?”

She looked up as she tucked her hair back behind her ears. “My own version.”

“Who was that?”

“You spoke to a corrections officer at the prison Donny Lockridge did his time in. He confirmed that Lisa Harrington’s visits were more than just guilt trips. When he was released from prison guess who picked him up?”

What did it say about his judgment if he’d presumed so much into Lisa Harrington that he’d missed the reality? That she was actually a calculated, manipulative woman who had an involvement with the murderer of her daughter? She’d filed a lawsuit against his father, his employer…Was she that good of an actress that most would have made the same mistake, or had he imagined the emotions he’d assumed he’d read?

At least one thing was clear: She’d played him from the beginning.

“But why me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Lisa Harrington came to speak to me before I was even asked to check into the investigation. Why? Why involve me?”

“She knew you were Steve Daly’s son. Considering the allegations about their involvement, that would make her youngest child your half sister.” Emma shrugged. “It gives you a personal stake in this.”

“Only I never told her Steve’s my father.” He thought back to what she’d said when they’d first met, that she didn’t remember him from the investigation. That he looked young. “She thought I’d been part of the original investigation.”

Emma’s eyes took on a faraway look and her mouth formed a hard line.

“What is it?”

“I talked to Frank to get you put on the investigation.”

“You mentioned something about that back at the hospital.”

She looked at him. “But didn’t you wonder how I knew about Donny’s planned legal action before it was public?”

“I had…I just…”

“You were too busy avoiding this pain-in-the-ass reporter to question it.”

As he flicked the windshield wipers on he replayed their conversations, the details she’d shared before they went public, even the break-in at his parents’ house…

His cell phone rang again and he nodded when she glanced at him questioningly She answered it. After a moment of silence she thanked the caller and hung up.

“That was Bob. First, he said you asked him to check on the birth records for all of Lisa Harrington’s children.”

Craig nodded.

“He said the father’s name is blank for both Destiny and Desiree.”

“What about Hope?”

“That’s the interesting thing. There’s no record of a birth certificate for her.”

“Hmmm. Sometimes records go missing, people make mistakes.” It was too soon to jump to conclusions, although it was interesting.

“Well, that’s not all. According to Lisa Harrington’s arrest records, she’s only thirty-nine years old.”

Craig did the math, deducted the ten years Donny had spent in jail and Hope’s age…

“He did have some good news. Brandy wouldn’t change her story, but the neighbors heard the whole thing. They’re charging Darren so that they can search the house.”

“Hoping they’ll find something that implicates him in my assault,” he said as the phone rang again.

As she identified the phone as Craig’s and confirmed they had dialed the right number he looked at the puffy snow that was plummeting to earth. It seemed misleading to refer to them as snowflakes when they were about the size of a quarter. The windshield wipers, on high, barely kept up with the downfall.

Emma covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “It’s the lab. They’ll only talk to you.”

A quick glance failed to reveal the source of his headset for hands-free talking. “Can you hold the phone up?”

She leaned over and pressed the phone against the side of his head.

“Constable Nolan.”

“It’s Greg, from the lab. Sorry to be such a pest about it…”

“It’s okay.”

“Who says you’re unreasonable? I thought you’d be ready to take my head off because it’s taken so long to get back to you.”

“People say I’m unreasonable?”

“Figure of speech.”

“Right. But I just couriered the chain to you yesterday.”

“First, about the blood samples from Steve Daly’s house.”

“Oh.” It still seemed fast to him. No doubt pressure from the bosses was on everyone to produce results, which meant Craig’s evidence had been expedited. “What did you find?”

“You also asked me to double-check the tests done in the Hope Harrington case.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We have a match.”

Craig frowned. “On what?”

“DNA samples taken from under the fingernails of Hope Harrington? Matches the blood taken from Sergeant Daly’s house. Same source.”

“Shit.”

“Shouldn’t that help you?”

“They never identified the source of that DNA. All they knew was it wasn’t a match for Donny Lockridge, and it wasn’t someone Hope was related to.” It didn’t make any sense.

“Well, there’s more. That other sample you gave me, blood from the Harrington house from Saturday morning?”

Craig was starting to see it. “A match.”

“How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess. What about the other samples I gave you? The DNA…” He almost choked just saying the words. What if the answer was something he wasn’t ready to face?

“Still working on it.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Once Emma had taken the phone away there was nothing but the sound of the windshield wipers flicking back and forth. It was as though planeloads of cottonballs had just been dropped from the sky. Craig was beginning to wonder if they’d be able to make it back.

The phone rang again. She flipped it open. “Craig Nolan’s answering service.”

After a few seconds she said, “Hello?” and then clapped the phone shut. “Guess it was the wrong number,” she said. “Do you have a charger? It’s nearly dead.”

“Should be one in the glove compartment.” If he’d remembered to pack it. He turned the radio on and flicked around until he found a weather report. Heavy snowfall for the Okanagan, which was the name of the valley Kelowna was located in.

“That doesn’t sound promising,” Emma said.

“It’s just for the Okanagan. That might mean we’re driving out of it.” So much for catching up with Donny Lockridge. Even if they made it home, this had slowed them down. If anyone tipped off Donny about Darren’s arrest he would have a significant head start. By the time they reached the Lower Mainland Lockridge could be gone.

Ashlyn cut the connection and then slowly set the phone down. Once she’d learned Craig had been released from the hospital she’d phoned the Kelowna RCMP and eventually tracked down a Constable Williams, who was investigating Craig’s assault.

“He’s on his way back to the Lower Mainland,” Williams had told her once she’d identified herself. “You could try him on his cell.”

Try him on his cell…
Leaving her to wonder why he hadn’t called her back. She’d called anyway.

He hadn’t said anything about going to Kelowna with a woman. He was supposed to be working the case alone.

Her phone rang, and her heart sank. Part of her still wanted it to be Craig, and another part of her was certain she’d be disappointed when she answered.

“Constable Hart.”

“Liam Kincaid.” His tone was warm, though he sounded tired. “I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

After the initial wave of hurt washed over her, Ashlyn actually smiled. “You heard?”

“Yeah.”

The short silence that followed was a comfortable one, the kind where you felt the other person understood what you were thinking, without you saying a word. “I’m glad you called,” she said.

“Jody and Dan gave us enough information to help with some other drug cases.”

“That’s…that’s good. Listen, can I ask you something? When we were on surveillance you said something, about Tain. About this case getting to him.”

The silence that followed wasn’t as comfortable. “Look, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But you did. I’m not angry. I just want to know what you were talking about.”

There was a pause, and then Liam sighed. “His daughter was killed by her mother. She’s out of jail now, barely got a slap on the wrist. There was an article in the paper about it, because the woman was white. Sparked a whole racial thing, about the courts not treating Aboriginals equally.”

Ashlyn looked up as Tain sat down at his desk across from her. He was holding a book, one she hadn’t seen before. Their gaze met and she felt her cheeks flush as Liam continued.

“Social services refused to take action, and the courts wouldn’t give Tain custody, despite the fact that he had a stable career, suitable home and no reason to be deemed unfit. The RCMP must have worked overtime to keep this all quiet because there’s an ongoing civil case against social services.”

“I-I didn’t know,” she said into the phone as she stared at her partner.

“His little girl? She was four.” There was a silence, and then Liam continued, “And, Ash, she’d been beaten.”

No wonder this case had been so hard for Tain. And with a lawsuit pending, the mother just released from jail…Ashlyn remembered her own casual banter, poking fun at the idea of Tain raising more than his dog. How cruel she’d been.

And what kind of partner was she that she didn’t even know about this?

“Listen, I have to go,” Liam said. “Remember, if things ever get uncomplicated…well, you know where to find me.”

“Stay in touch, Liam.”

They said good-bye and she hung up. The tense phone calls she’d overheard, Tain’s anger with social services…It all made sense now.

“Tain—”

He held up the book. “Shannon’s diary.” Tain set it down in front of her. “Read the marked passages.”

She took the book from him and opened it to the first marker.

It’s getting worse. At first, they seemed so happy with Jeffrey, too happy to bother much with Chris and me, but I guess that’s the problem. He totally flipped out about how they love Jeff but not us.

Dad got physical with him, and this time Chris hit him back. I couldn’t believe it. Neither could Dad, but when he smacked Chris again, Chris punched him and knocked him on the floor.