Part 3 (1/2)
The dispatcher pulled a tissue out of the box beside the screen monitoring the cells. Tonights only guests of the city were Jake and Felicia LeBlanc. The town drunks. Theyd been at a party and had gotten into a screaming and hitting match on their way home. In a breach of seasonal spirit they were not sharing a family cell.
Ingrid wiped at her eyes. ”I hate Christmas, okay. My sister, my big sister who I adored, died on Christmas day. Cancer. I was twelve and she was sixteen. My parents wouldnt take me to the hospital to see her one last time. Didnt want to spoil my Christmas.”
”Gee, Ingrid. Im sorry.”
”You tell anyone that, Smith, and youll be answering every domestic we get for the next year.” Ingrid blew her nose. She was in her late fifties, with short hair the color of a rusty battles.h.i.+p, and hard eyes. Smith didnt know anything about Ingrids background. Other than over the radio, theyd never exchanged more than five words at a time.
”Why dont the parents phone the sister? This isnt news that should come from a stranger.”
Ingrid threw up her hands. ”I dont know. They asked us to send someone around to inform the group in person.”
”Ingrid...”
”Dawns gone to the fire. Might be there a long time if they have trouble controlling it. Caldwells at an OD. Found a nice package of white power while he was there.”
”Send the Mounties.”
”Molly.”
”Okay, okay. Ill pop round. Not as if I have anything to do Christmas morning anyway.”
Try as she might to remain aloof, Wendy found herself forgetting her troubles and falling into the spirit of things. Presents were opened, snacks eaten, champagne drunk, more champagne drunk. The presents the friends gave each other were frivolous stuff: chocolates, bath salts, silly puzzles, costume jewelry.
Alan gave Sophie a barely-there peach nightgown. Sophie turned red and covered her face with the thin fabric while Mrs. Carmine broke into giggles. Their landlady had definitely had too much Champagne.
Mrs. Cs gift to Kathy was a set of flannel pajamas, and Kathy gave her mother an electric kettle.
Lorraine clutched the tiny blue box that was her present and watched the festivities with a gentle smile on her face.
Wendy refused to open her gift from Jason without him present.
As they hadnt seen Ewan since yesterday, and everyone a.s.sumed hed found more hospitable accommodations, they opened the gifts from him.
Finally there were only a handful of wrapped presents under the tree. Gifts to Jason and Ewan, and Wendys from her brother.
”Something must be wrong,” Lorraine said, staring at the small pile of gifts. ”Why isnt he here?”
”Because he doesnt wanna be,” Wendy said. She took the last piece of shortbread. Homemade, packed with so much b.u.t.ter it melted in her mouth.
”Peraps 'e and Ewan caught up,” Sophie said in her strong Quebec accent, rubbing her fingers through the fabric of her gift as if she were already imagining the feel of it against her body. And the feel of it being taken off. ”And 'e 'ad to go wherever Evans been.”
”Im sure youre right, Sophie,” Mrs. C said. ”Thats a perfectly sensible explanation. Good heavens look at the time. Kathy, help me do up the dishes. What time would you like breakfast in the morning?”
”Breakfast,” Rob shouted, throwing up his arms in mock surrender. ”Perish the thought. I cant think of breakfast.”
”Well you have to if were going to be on the slopes early,” Alan said.
The seven of them-Jason, his sister, and five of his friends-had come to B.C. for two weeks skiing. They were all university students. Jason, Ewan, and Alan had grown up together in Oakville, allowing, sometimes, Wendy, the kid sister, to tag along. Alan had gone to McGill, the University in Montreal, where hed met Sophie, the Quebecois.
Rob had been Jasons roommate first year and theyd stayed friends. Wendy didnt quite know where Jeremy fit in.
For as long as Wendy could remember Jason and Ewan had been best friends. Ewan-Jason, Jason-Ewan. So close they might as well have hyphenated their names. Shed grown up tagging along after Jason and his friends, and shed always had a bit of a crush on Ewan. Who never paid the slightest bit of attention to her. Hed disappeared only a few days into their two-week vacation, but no one even considered worrying about him. Typical Ewan, they all thought. As hed been temporarily between girlfriends, hed started looking for something to lay before theyd even gotten off the plane at tiny Castlegar airport.
This vacation was Jasons idea, formulated after last years incredibly dull New Years Eve at a house party. Hed found the B&B on the Internet and had been early enough to book the entire place. The group had gathered at Toronto airport. Flown to Calgary and then to Castlegar. Jason had arranged the rental of a seven-seater SUV with a ski compartment on the roof. Bags, friends, skis, presents were loaded aboard, and theyd headed for Trafalgar and their Christmas vacation.
They were gathering their gifts, leaving the cleaning up and dishes to Mrs. C. and Kathy-they were paying guests, after all, no matter how homey Mrs. C. made the place-when the doorbell rang.
Lorraine ran to the door like a greyhound out of the starting gate. Wendy followed, prepared to give her brother a piece of her mind. Shed only come on this stupid trip because hed asked her. She had plenty of other things she could have done with her vacation.
”Alain,” Sophie said, ”I am going to bed. You can come with me or stay to 'ave a drink with your ami, Jason. Not both.”
Alans feet hit the stairs, hard.
”As for me,” Jeremy said, ”Ill have another drink. Tell Jas and Ewan to get in here. I hope to h.e.l.l they brought more booze.”
Lorraine threw open the door. Wendy and Mrs. C. crowded behind.
It wasnt Jason.
The woman was young, probably not much older than Wendy herself. Very pretty with an oval face, sharp, high cheekbones, pert nose, and large blue eyes. Cheeks and plump lips were reddened with cold. She was tall and, much as one could tell with the way she was bundled up, in good shape. Snowflakes fell on the shoulders of her blue coat and blue-trimmed hat.
For a brief moment Wendy dared hope this was a strip-o-gram, bringing a raunchy holiday greeting from friends back in Ontario. But the police uniform was too perfect. And the woman was not smiling.
The cop s.h.i.+fted her feet and took off her hat, revealing short hair the color of ripening corn.
”Lorraine?” she said, blinking in surprise. Behind her, reflected in the street lights, snow fell steadily.
”Are you following me, Molly? You cant come in here. I know my rights. I havent done anything. Mrs. Carmine.” Lorraine darted to safety behind the landladys chubby form. ”Tell her to go away. Tell her to stop bothering me.”
”Im sorry,” the officer said. ”Lorraine, I didnt know you were here. Honest.” She sounded hesitant, unsure of herself. It was none of Wendys business, but she never minded seeing pretty young women slapped into place. Interesting, that this representative of the law and Jasons holiday amus.e.m.e.nt were on a first name basis.
”You didnt?” Lorraine squeaked.
”No, I didnt. Sorry if I frightened you, Lorraine. Im looking for Ms. Wendy Wyatt-Yarmouth and Ive been told shes staying here.”
Wendy looked around in confusion. Attracted by the voices, Kathy had stuck her head out of the kitchen, and Jeremy and Rob were in the doorway to the common room.
”Youd better come in, Moonlight,” Mrs. Carmine said. What the h.e.l.l did the light of the moon have to do with any of this? Wendy thought. ”Or youll catch your death. Dreadful night, isnt it? Were cleaning up. Such a lovely party we had. Ill make up a plate for you. Kathy, put the kettle back on and lay out the remainder of the shortbread. See if theres enough cheese left. How dreadful you have to work tonight, dear. Lucky cant be at all happy about that, now can she. Come in, please.”
”Thank you, Mrs. Carmine. But I need to speak to Ms. Wyatt-Yarmouth. Is she here?” The womans voice was recovering some of its confidence.
Wendy stepped backward. Pus.h.i.+ng Jeremy and Rob aside, into the common room, where the tree was almost devoid of presents. Someone had switched the lights off on the side tables and the beautiful Christmas scenes had gone dark. Only the fireplace still cast a soft yellow glow. The room looked like the set of a play, coming to the end. Wendys heart was in her stomach and, for some strange reason, she was aware of a vein throbbing in her neck. She considered making a run for it, but she didnt know where the back door was.
The police officer walked into the room. She hadnt bothered to remove her boots and coat, as any well mannered visitor would do.