To Keep a Secret (3 page)

T
he next morning at seven, Shaw met me for breakfast at Fils Diner. I was surprised when my brother-in-law Jimmy Wilson trailed in behind him. They sat down in the booth across from me. Shaw signalled the waitress for coffee.

“I feel like hell,” he said after she set down their cups.

“You look it, too,” Jimmy said. He reached for the sugar. “Like something the cat dragged in.”

“Thanks. Could you possibly make me feel any worse?” Shaw stirred cream into his mug while he looked at me. “Jimmy’s agreed to help with the homicide investigation. I want someone not on my team working this case.”

He didn’t have to say why. Investigating your sergeant could be career-limiting. The police force was a tightly knit group. They wouldn’t like having one of their own as a suspect. Jimmy and Shaw knew what they were up against.

“Jada and Henry are my clients, so to speak,” I said. “I’m not going to walk away from this one.”

Shaw narrowed his eyes and frowned at me. “Like that’s a surprise. I’ve asked Jimmy to work with you. Official but with some wiggle room. I’m looking for a delicate hand.”

“If you think I’m going to be part of a cover up—”

Jimmy held up a hand. “Whoa, Anna. We aren’t asking you to do that. If Rudy Vine is guilty, we’ll nail him. We just have to go about it carefully. The man hates being crossed by anyone. He goes to great lengths to get even. Plus, he has a lot of friends and influence on the force. Not to mention, his wife is a cop on the fraud squad. But you already knew that.”

“It’s hard to know who to trust,” Shaw said. “If someone else killed Mandy Blair, Vine never has to know we suspected him.”

I looked from one to the other. They each had a lot to lose by sharing information with me. But I had a lot to lose, too. Like my peace of mind. Jimmy and I had been dancing around each other ever since I flew home from Kermit, Texas, a few months back. He was married to my sister Cheri, but we had a history together. We’d been rookie cops on the Ottawa force and engaged to be married. When he jumped in bed with Cheri, he’d destroyed any chance of happily ever after for the two of us.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll play nice. But that means turning over every rock to see what crawls out. If Sergeant Rudy Vine killed Mandy to keep her from talking, I intend to be her voice.”

Jimmy raised his coffee mug in my direction. “You won’t be alone. However, we have to make sure our evidence is solid before we bring out the loud speakers.”

• • • • • • • • • •

Jimmy and I drove to the Blairs’ house in our own cars. I intended to have as little alone time with him as possible. No long car rides. No drinks in the bar at the end of the day. This was going to be strictly business. I owed myself that.

The Blairs lived on a couple of acres overlooking the Rideau River. The house was sprawling and slightly smaller than a school. Three cars were in their driveway when we pulled up. It was another grey November day—heavy cloud cover but too warm for snow. I hoped the rain would hold off.

“No way Mandy and Henry were in the same class,” I said when I joined Jimmy at the front door. “They don’t live anywhere near each other.”

“They both went to Canterbury. It’s the only arts high school in the city for gifted kids.”

“That explains it, then.”

Jimmy rang the bell. A housekeeper checked Jimmy’s ID and led us down a long hallway into the living room. Cathedral ceilings angled skyward. The room was furnished with white leather furniture and priceless paintings.

The short, balding man from the night before stood to greet us. His face was deeply lined in grief. He’d aged a lifetime since the night before. “I’m Peter Blair,” he said. “I’m Mandy’s father. My wife Nicole is lying down. This is Nicole’s brother, Reverend Ben Thompson, and his wife, Iris.” A middle-aged, average-looking couple nodded at us.

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Jimmy said. “I apologize for disturbing you this morning, but we just have a few questions.”

“Of course,” Peter said, sitting back down. He invited us to sit in the two empty chairs. “Officers were here all night going through Mandy’s room. Nicole and I will do anything to help find whoever killed our daughter.”

“I still can’t believe somebody would hurt her,” Iris said. She was a large woman, early fifties, grey hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were red from crying.

Her husband shifted next to her on the couch. Ben was tall with sandy brown hair like his sister Nicole. “We just can’t get our heads around somebody killing our niece.” His brown eyes pierced through me. They were pools of dark intensity. I could imagine him giving a rousing sermon to a church full of devoted followers.

Jimmy looked at Peter. “Could you tell us the last time you saw Mandy? Also, where you were yesterday? The information will help us to get a full picture.”

I took out my notebook and pen. We’d agreed that Jimmy would take the lead before we arrived.

Peter stared straight ahead, as if Mandy was standing in front of him. “I saw Mandy two nights ago at supper. She ate with us and seemed upset about something. I guess that wasn’t unusual. Nicole tried to get Mandy to talk about what was bothering her, but she refused. That wasn’t unusual either. Around eight, Mandy told us that she was going for a walk. I heard her come in around nine thirty. She went straight up to her room.” He looked at Iris and Ben. “I have no idea who would hurt her or why.”

“It’s the act of a crazy person,” Iris said.

“And where were you yesterday?” Jimmy asked Peter.

“I left for work at seven like I do every morning. I own a company that builds and operates satellites. Nicole told me that she left for a workout before Mandy got up. Neither of us saw her yesterday.” He looked toward the hallway. “I’m just going to go check on my wife now, if that’s okay?”

“Go ahead,” Jimmy said. “We’d like to speak with her if she’s up to it.”

“I’ll see how she’s feeling. This has been very tough on her.” Peter rose from the chair as if his body was having difficulty moving. We silently watched him walk out of the room. I forced down my sadness for this family. Feeling sad wouldn’t help us sift through the stories and find her killer.

Jimmy turned to Ben and Iris. “And both of you?”

“We only moved back to Ottawa a few months ago,” Iris said. “Ben was transferred to a church outside Oakville about five years ago. We were happy to come back.”

“I’m a United Church minister,” Ben explained. “We’re living in a half double on Maitland Avenue in the west end. My goodness, was it only two Sundays ago that we all had dinner together? Who knew it would be the last time we were all together as a family.”

“And how did Mandy seem?”

“She was a troubled girl,” Ben said. “Very few friends. Not a big fan of school.”

Iris nodded. “Mandy started giving them problems when she became a teenager. Peter and Nicole are worried Frannie will go through the same phase. She just turned twelve, but so far so good. She’s off at a friend’s house now. Peter’s trying to keep her busy.”

“Is that a picture of the sisters?” Anna asked. She pointed to a framed portrait of two girls, one about fourteen years old and the other eight or nine. They had the same heart-shaped faces with big blue eyes.

“That’s Mandy and Frannie, a few years ago,” Iris said. She dabbed at her face with a Kleenex.

Anna moved closer to the photo. They were pretty girls, but something in Mandy’s eyes was angry. Frayed at the edges. “Mandy looks . . . unhappy,” she said.

Ben frowned. “I’ve seen kids on drugs before. They only ask for help when they’re ready.”

“So, you think Mandy was taking drugs?” Jimmy asked.

Ben shrugged. “Signs were there. Like lying about where she was. Making up stories. Nobody wanted to bring her behaviour into the light. My sister was worried about her. I was glad to move back so that we could help. Now . . . I wish Iris and I could have come back sooner.”

“Well, we’re here to help with Frannie,” Iris said.

“And yesterday morning?” Jimmy asked.

“I left for church around seven thirty and spent the day there.”

“And I went shopping at nine,” Iris added. “I dropped by the church to arrange flowers late in the afternoon. Then I came home to make supper.”

Peter entered the living room and stood just inside the doorway. He ran his hand over his head, looking unsure of what he should do next. “Nicole is sleeping,” he said. “The doctor has sedated her.”

“That’s okay,” Jimmy said. He motioned to me that we should leave. “We’ll be on our way now. We’ll come back another time after we’ve had a chance to go through the evidence.”

“Come back anytime. We’ll do all that we can to help,” Peter said. “I won’t be able to sleep until I know who killed my daughter.”

“T
hat was as sad as it gets,” Jimmy said. “I hate this part of the job.”

“I know.”

Jimmy unlocked his car door and turned to look at me. “So, where to next?”

“I suggest we pay bus driver Frank Campbell and teacher Derek Lee a visit. Hopefully, one of them is the killer so we don’t have to tackle Sergeant Vine. Jada tracked down their work addresses and sent them to me. She’s using the motel’s computer. Sounds like she’s going stir crazy stuck in that room with Henry.”

Jimmy wrote down the addresses in his notepad. “How much longer are they holed up at the Bluebell?”

“Shaw says to keep Henry tucked away for a few more days. The pressure is on you and me to crack this fast.”

“Then let’s get a move on. Lee’s school is on the way to your dad’s. We could drop by his place for lunch after we interview Lee.”

“You missed some great ribs last night.”

“I know. I’m hoping there are a few left over.”

“Should be. I’ll meet you in the school parking lot.”

• • • • • • • • • •

Derek Lee was a five foot two Asian man with crater-sized dimples. We found him in a classroom marking Grade Eleven math tests. He had another half-hour before his next class.

Jimmy flashed his badge and Lee’s beaming smile disappeared. “We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Jimmy said.

Derek’s eyes darted from Jimmy to me and back to Jimmy. “Yeah. I should have known.” He sighed and pointed to the back of the classroom. “Let’s go sit at the table.”

We took seats across from him. “What did you mean that you should have known?” I asked.

Derek met my gaze. “First, tell me what this is about.”

Jimmy and I had agreed in the parking lot that it was my turn to lead. “We understand that you met a young lady recently through a website.”

“That’s what I meant by I should have known.” He slapped the table with the palm of his hand. “So I met this girl through a dating site. She was legal dating age by the way. Even if she didn’t look it. Anyhow, she taped our conversation and her boyfriend filmed it. Then they blackmailed me. I know how these innocent meetings get twisted on the internet. It could have ruined my reputation. Maybe gotten me fired. I paid money to a charity so those lowlifes would leave me alone. The fact that you’re here means they lied.”

“I see by the ring on your finger that you’re married,” I said. I let the irony speak for itself.

Lee’s face twisted into a sideways smile. “So my wife says to me last year, ‘Let’s have an open marriage. You date who you want and so will I.’ Sounds like every man’s dream, right? Not mine. It took me the entire year to set up that coffee date. I should have known better.”

“Where were you last night?” I asked.

“I had dinner with my wife. Then I came back here for a school play. I teach drama.”

“People can swear to that?”

“We had a full house. It wrapped up around ten, and then I went home. My wife can swear to that, too. Why do you ask?”

“Because somebody tried to run over the boy who filmed your date.” I paused. “And the girl you met was found murdered in a dumpster.”

Lee made a funny noise. His eyes met mine before his rolled up into the back of his head. Then he toppled backward off his chair in a dead faint.

Jimmy and I leapt up and jumped past the table. We nearly bumped heads as we bent down to check on our fallen suspect.

“I guess this means the news came as a shock,” I said, my fingers searching for Lee’s pulse. “Or this man’s one award-winning actor.”

“I
t’s late for lunch and early for supper,” Dad said. He looked up from his hand of cards as Jimmy and I entered the kitchen.

Evan sprung from his chair and ran into his dad’s arms. Jimmy gave him a long hug, then asked, “What are you doing at Grandpa’s in the middle of a school day?”

“Tummy ache,” Dad answered for him. “Cheri knows that I picked Evan up from school before lunch.” Dad looked at us, as if daring either one of us to question Evan’s illness.

“That’s too bad, little buddy,” Jimmy said. He put on the concerned father look. “How are you feeling now?”

“Grandpa made me a special drink and now I feel goooood,” Evan said. He twirled back to his chair and picked up his cards. “Go fish, Grandpa.”

“You know I haven’t asked for a card yet,” Dad said. “I can’t go fishing until you know what I’m after.”

“Oh yeah,” Evan said.

“What did you make the kid?” I asked. “A rum cocktail?”

“It’s my own secret formula,” Dad said. “I used to make it for you and Cheri. Do you remember?”

“Not really.”

Dad usually had had no time for sick kids when we were little. He’d preferred daughters who carried on without complaint. Cheri and I were expected to put in a full school day even after we threw up. Perhaps his bout with cancer had softened him.

“Well, parents always remember events differently than their children,” Dad said. “Any kings, Evan?”

Evan bobbed up and down in his chair. “Go
fish,
Grandpa.”

“Okay to heat up these ribs?” Jimmy asked from his position bent over the open fridge.

“Go ahead,” Dad said. “Evan and I already ate our fill for lunch.”

“Tummy ache, huh?” I said, putting my hand on Evan’s forehead. “Sounds more like a boys’ bonding afternoon.” I looked at Dad. We both knew Evan’s tummy ache was a sign of stress. Cheri used to get them, too.