Part 20 (1/2)
She headed down the hill toward the lights of Front Street shops and restaurants. Dark and black. Cloud shrouded the mountain on the other side of the black river. She s.h.i.+vered and pulled her collar tighter.
Gary. He was so bitter, so angry at Jason and his friends. Perhaps he had a right to be. His father left town when Gary was in primary school, never to be heard from again. His mother married the town drunk and almost immediately joined her new husband in his favorite hobby. Barely twenty, and Garyd been sent to prison to pay for a minor crime gone wrong.
The Wyatt-Yarmouth crowd. Tossing money around like eighteenth-century n.o.bility visiting the peasants. Exchanging status for s.e.x with local girls who were searching for everything from a fun night on the town to a lifetime commitment with a trust-fund guy.
Might Gary have had something to do with the death of Jason? No, Jason died in a car accident. There appeared to be no doubt about that. Ewan? They hadnt uncovered any link between Lorraine and Ewan.
Smith turned onto Front Street. A bunch of tourists pa.s.sed her without a glance. Sometimes, in this town where it seemed as if everyone and his dog had either rubbed her head when shed been a toddler or had been arrested by her, it was nice to be anonymous.
The scent of spices spilled out from Trafalgar Thai. She could almost taste that yellow curry.
A couple came out of the restaurant. They were laughing, their arms wrapped around each other. Light from the streetlamp above them shone on snowflakes drifting to the ground. A car drove by, window down, the stereo playing Sarah Brightmans duet with Paul Stanley: You will never be alone, they sang. The woman tilted her head and the man bent to kiss her. Shed managed to get through almost the whole day without thinking of Graham once.
She brushed past the couple, blinking away the tears.
A slow chill crept down her spine. She looked up to see a dark figure standing at the street corner on the other side of the restaurant. The cap was pulled low, the jacket black and bulky, hands stuffed into pockets, boots large.
Inside Trafalgar Thai, wait staff were hurrying with plates filled high with fragrant dishes. Customers talked and laughed and drank green tea and beer.
He, and it was almost certainly a he, wasnt moving. Just standing and watching her.
Cars drove by and people looked into shop windows and read posted restaurant menus. A group of giggling teenage girls came down the sidewalk like a river in flood; they parted around the man as water pa.s.ses a boulder.
He lifted one black-gloved hand. The index finger moved slowly, beckoning her.
The girls swirled by Smith, a splash of voices like rapids running the narrows.
She couldnt see his face.
She was without uniform, gun, radio. His finger continued to move.
The restaurant door opened, spilling yellow light onto the sidewalk. Smith glanced to her left to see two elderly couples, enveloped in their winter gear.
When she looked back down the street, the corner was empty.
She hadnt seen his face. She hadnt needed to. Size and manner were good enough.
Yellow curry forgotten, she pulled out her cell phone.
”Ingrid, I need a parole check and fast.”
”Happy to oblige, Molly, soon as I can. Ive got a Canada-wide warrant spotted in Uptown.”
”This is bad stuff, Ingrid. Local bad stuff.”
”Go ahead.”
”I need to know if this ones out of jail. Ba.s.sing, Charles F. Thats F as in f.u.c.king.”
Chapter Seventeen.
A late-model SUV, large and black, was parked in his driveway, a rental company logo slapped on the b.u.mper. Not Barneys; shed been picked up by Eliza at the airport.
Lights were on in his house, but that was no surprise. Nine p.m. and for Barney, all seventy-years old of her, the evening was only beginning. That all John Winters wanted to do was drop into bed, preferably in the soft, perfumed, satin-covered arms of his wife, wouldnt have crossed Barneys mind any more than the idea that hed want to go out back and perform a human sacrifice.
He opened the front door. Womens voices came from the living room. He plastered on a smile and went to join them.
Nothing in all of John Winters life ever matched the joy he got from a first glimpse of Eliza after a long, hard day. Tonight she was curled up in her favorite leather chair, smiling at something Barney was saying, lifting a gla.s.s to her lips. A floorboard creaked and she looked up and saw him standing in the doorway.
”John! How wonderful.” She jumped up. She was dressed in loose gray slacks and a sweater of soft pink, without jewelry. Her face was scrubbed clean and her dark hair hung loosely around her chin. She grabbed his face and gave him a lush kiss. ”Youre earlier than I expected.”
”You look like a man in need of a drink,” Barney said. ”Whatll it be? Were drinking mimosas, but Id guess a man of the world would prefer something stronger.”
He smiled. He did like Barney. ”A beer would be nice.”
”Coming right up.” She dashed for the kitchen.
”John,” Eliza said, her hand light on his arm, turning him slightly. ”This is my new friend Patricia.”
A woman was sitting in the wide-winged armchair by the window, draped in shadow. He approached her, hand outstretched, and she leaned forward. The lamp caught her face. Finely sculpted cheekbones, neat chin, wide brown eyes, soft brown hair, artfully streaked. Perfect make up and expensive hair couldnt hide the pain behind her eyes.
He took her hand. ”Pleased to meet you, Patricia. Welcome here.”
”Thank you.” Her voice was deep and rich.
Barney came back with his drink: golden liquid with a creamy head wrapped in an icy gla.s.s.
He took a seat, calculating how long hed have to make friendly before escaping to bed. But first, he needed to eat. Should have picked up something in town. Elizas skills did not lie in the kitchen.
”Are you new to Trafalgar, Patricia?” he asked. A husband doing his duty toward his wifes new friend.
”Just visiting. Its beautiful here. Early days yet, but Im thinking I might want to buy a vacation home.”
Barney launched into a discussion of the value of property in the area. Skyrocketing, she put it.
”Youve missed your chance,” Eliza said. ”There were plans to build a major resort outside of town. But that all fell through at the end of the summer, and the developer ran back to the city with his tail between his legs. The propertys now for sale.”
”Why?” Patricia asked.
”No one, almost no one, knows.” Eliza glanced at her husband from underneath dark lashes. Frank Clemmins and M&C Developments had packed up and left as if a posse were after them. Rumor and suspicion swept through town. Someone claimed the site was an ancient alien landing ground with a curse placed against Earthling interlopers.
The reason M&C developments had so abruptly scurried back to Vancouver had nothing to do with s.p.a.ce s.h.i.+ps or hostile aliens. After being involved in not one, but two, murder cases, Frank Clemmins wanted nothing more than to abandon Trafalgar permanently.
”Resort or no,” Barney said. ”You couldnt do much better than buying a place in the Kootenays. Heavens, youre not even from Alberta. Thatll give you a leg up right there. They do hate anyone from Alberta, isnt that right, John?”