Cornwall and Redfern Mysteries 2-Book Bundle (41 page)

A light kick on Neil's
office door preceded Lavinia's entrance with a tray of coffee and doughnuts. She knew he liked the glazed ones, and had included two of them on a plate with a couple of crullers.

“Whew!” She waved her hand in the air. “Open a window for a few minutes, why don't you?” She slid the crime scene photos and reports to one side with an elbow and set the tray on Neil's desk. “Too much testosterone in here.”

Neil pushed the plate toward Tony. He looked out his window. The snow had started up again, and the wind hurled sheets of it against the glass. “Maybe later. Thanks, you always know when I need coffee, Lavinia.”

“I'll be out for a few minutes. We're out of milk.” She gave them both a tolerant look and closed the door quietly behind her.

Tony snatched up both glazed doughnuts. “You got it made, man. Your own office, somebody to bring you coffee. The weather sucks here, but the snow must keep the crime statistics down.”

“Not so you'd notice. Are you forgetting we have two murders to solve?”

“We should catch a break if there's only one killer involved.” He finished the doughnuts in three or four bites and eyed the crullers. “I hate those twisty things. How come you don't have an investigator on the payroll? You're the first chief I've run into who has to do all his own investigating. And where are your sergeants?”

Neil pushed the coffee tray to one corner of his desk and fanned the photos back out. “One investigator retired the same time as the former chief, just before I took over, and the second one a few months after. The Police Board has been dragging its feet over approving the release of funds to hire more. I'm without a sergeant for the same reason. There were three — one of them retired and the others transferred to Waterloo Regional. The board keeps promising to cough up the money for replacements. Now, hoist your ass off that chair and write this down.”

Tony sighed, but got to his feet and picked up a dry-erase marker. He flipped the whiteboard over to the blank side and waited.

“If we proceed on the assumption that we have one perpetrator, this is our list of suspects — Fang Davidson, Charles Leeds, Michael Bains, Earl Archman, Fern Brickle, Kelly Quantz. And Bliss Cornwall.”

Tony paused after writing Quantz's name. “Are you serious? You want me to add Bliss's name to the list of suspects? Your Bliss?”

“Humour me. I don't consider Bliss a viable suspect, but we can't leave her name off. Like the other six, she was in the old high school the night Faith disappeared.” When Tony opened his mouth, Neil added, “Let's assume Faith died that night.”

Tony shrugged and wrote Bliss's name down.

A burst of raucous laughter reached them from the squad room. After it died away, Neil continued. “Sophie Quantz was killed because Faith died fifteen years ago. We need to find out what the connection is.”

Tony helped himself to the last cruller. “All the kids were drunk and there are only two of the chaperones left: Archman and Brickle. Have you talked to either one?” He shoved the doughnut into his mouth and washed it down with coffee.

“Not yet.” He didn't mention that Bliss had a conversation with Archman in the hospital. Tony already thought Bliss's involvement was hilarious.

“Who else on this list needs interviewing?”

Neil glanced at the whiteboard. “We talked to Fang and Kelly Quantz. We need to speak to Leeds, Bains, Archman, and Brickle. And we need to move on this fast.”

“I have a dinner date, so I'll do one interview this afternoon. How about you take Archman while I pay Bains a visit at his office? Best if you stay away from him. Tomorrow we'll tackle the other two — Leeds and Brickle. I'll leave Miss Bliss to you.” He snickered. “Unless you call for help.”

“Fuck off, Tony. I can handle Cornwall.”

Another round of laughter erupted from the other side of the office door. This time it subsided only to surge into a wave of hooting and foot stamping.

Neil threw open his door and leaned out. Five officers — almost his entire day shift — surrounded a computer terminal. Only Thea and Dwayne hung back. Dwayne's face was an unflattering shade of mottled pink and red, while Thea stood stony-faced with arms crossed.

Bernie spotted Neil and his hand moved.

“Don't touch that mouse, Bernie.” Four officers moved aside to let Neil shoulder his way in. “Run that video from the beginning.”

“Yeah, Chief, you might not want to …”

“From the beginning, Bernie.” Tony hung over his shoulder, anxious to be let in on the joke.

The video from the dashcam showed Dwayne. And Cornwall. Neil's eyes narrowed as he watched. He tried to keep his face immobile, calling on his drug squad experience to keep the emotions from his expression. He didn't know whether to laugh or have that stroke he was expecting.

At the conclusion of the video, some of his officers tried to sidle away. He fixed them with his eyes. “Nobody move.”

“Again,” he told Bernie. The room was so still, he could hear the rumble of somebody's stomach. “In my office, Dwayne. The rest of you, get back to work. I want the house-to-house reports within the hour. I hope I don't need to mention that this video is proprietary, so if it gets out to the public, or appears on YouTube, someone's head will roll.”

He shut his door on Tony's amused face and rounded on Dwayne. “What the hell were you thinking, Dwayne?”

Dwayne swallowed audibly. “I can't help it, Chief. She aggravates me every opportunity she gets. Her lights and windows were obscured by snow and ice. It wasn't safe, and I had to pull her over.”

“How many other motorists did you pull over today for obscured lights?”

“Well, Bliss was the only one today. I was busy with the house-to-house inquiries, then I went for lunch. She was the first driver I saw when I pulled out of the Wing Nut.”

“I know she pushes your buttons deliberately, Dwayne. But here's a tip. Don't engage her unless you see her committing an armed robbery or assaulting someone. It's just not worth it.”

“But, Chief …”

“This isn't up for debate. Now get back to work.”

“But … her attitude …”

“We can't charge her for having a bad attitude.”

Dwayne's shoulders slumped. Before Neil could say anything more, another round of laughter, this time accompanied by clapping and cheering, rattled the door. He could hear Tony's hoarse chuckle underlying the other sounds. His right eye began to throb and, with a fatalistic shrug, he opened his door to usher Dwayne out.

This was not a good day. Cornwall stood in the middle of the squad room. His officers applauded and high-fived her. She looked perplexed, then Thea said something to her and her face lit up with understanding.

“Oh, that. Glad I gave you guys a laugh today. I know how stressful your work can be.”

She caught sight of Neil in the doorway with Dwayne. Her smile widened. Her expressive eyes, enhanced with makeup, sparkled at him. “Uh, got a minute, Chief? I might have some information on our murders.”

Tony shoved in behind me
and flipped over the whiteboard. Redfern shuffled the crime scene photos together, then sat on the edge of his desk with his arms folded. I glanced from one to the other.

“You're not as fast as you think you are, Tony. I saw my name on your suspect list.” I crossed my arms as well and waited for Redfern to explain himself.

It turned into a staring contest. I won, because I can go for ten minutes without blinking if I want. After only three, Redfern's eyes watered and he looked away. “Hah.” I turned to Tony. “Who put my name on that list? Is this a joke or something?”

“Well, it wasn't my idea, Miss Bliss. You know how by-the-book our chief here is.”

Redfern gave Tony a disgusted look. “You'd throw your own dog into a cat fight, wouldn't you, Pinato?”

“Hey, man, I'm not taking this lady on. I heard what you said to Dwayne.” At Redfern's surprised expression, he said, “Your voice carries.”

At the mention of Dwayne's name, I forgot about Redfern's suspect list. “How about that idiot? Do you know what he stopped me for today?”

“He told me about it. And the entire station saw the video.”

“Well, then, you know how ridiculous he is. His actions are bordering on police harassment.”

“If you followed the rules, you wouldn't find yourself under his scrutiny so often.”

“Hey, Bliss.” Tony stepped between us and pushed me away from Redfern. “Where did you learn those moves? Pretty sexy. I especially loved that little pouty wave and air kiss at the end. Too bad we don't have audio.”

“I'm a porn pro. Just call me Peaches. Can I see the video?” I hadn't taken my eyes off Redfern's face.

His fair skin began to turn a telltale red-brick colour. “No. You can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so. And because it would be against regulations.”

“What regulations?” All men have a screw loose, and some have looser screws than others. I opened my mouth to tell Redfern what I thought about his stupid regulations, which I followed most of the time anyway, but Tony butted in again.

“God, you two act like a couple of teenagers. Do you fight about everything? Is it some kind of weird foreplay? If so, Neil …”

Redfern turned on Tony and said, “Mind your own business,” at the same time I said, “It's not foreplay, you horse's ass.” Let them wonder who the horse's ass was.

“Neil, you know Bliss pisses in the eye of authority, so quit making it so easy for her. And Bliss, cut Neil some slack and show a little respect for his job at least.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.” I clomped toward the door, making sure my heels hit the old wooden floor as heavily as I could manage. Redfern hated it when I did that. Unfortunately, UGGs don't make much of a noise statement.

“Wait a minute,” Redfern called after me. “Why are you here? You said you had some information.”

I didn't. I only said that because every eye in the outer office was on me when I came in. I dropped in to see how things were going and to ask what plans Redfern had for dinner. Now I didn't give a shit.

“Never mind. From here on in, you needn't worry about me interfering with your investigations. Since you so clearly find me a nuisance, I'll just keep anything I learn to myself. You won't have Bliss Moonbeam Cornwall to insult any longer.”

“Before you stomp away, may I ask if you have the yearbooks in that bag?” Redfern's voice dripped icicles. Freaking control freak.

I yanked the yearbooks out of my tote. I knew he expected me to pitch them at his head, so I placed them carefully on the desk and lined them up precisely square to the outer edges.

I left the office door open, nodded at the cops in the squad room, and took my time making a grand exit. Grand until the wind flung snow in my face, causing me to miss the last step onto the sidewalk. I landed on my ass in a pile of slush.

“Fucking boots!” That's the last time I wear flat heels.

Fang hadn't answered my calls or returned my messages. That's the only reason I was looking for Dogtown. I hadn't been there since the infamous grad party night, or morning rather, when I woke up in the back of his truck. I had been in a coma on the way in and my eyes had been closed the whole trip out. I had never been back. Hence, I wasn't exactly sure where to find Dogtown.

It was somewhere farther north of the town's limits than Hemp Hollow, where I spent two of the most unpleasant years of my life, but west of the highway. Maybe. It's not like there's a sign pointing the way to Dogtown. It wasn't even a real town. But it bordered Ghost Swamp — so-called because the mist rising from its odoriferous waters resembled spirits.

I made a left turn off the highway, then alternated left and right. When I estimated I had gone too far, I backtracked. The snow fell faster, making visibility a challenge. Within minutes, the daylight disappeared behind a maple forest stripped of leaves.

If I hadn't been so pissed at Redfern, I would have gone home and looked for Fang tomorrow. Now, I had no idea where the highway was. I needed to buy a GPS.

The snow was at least twenty centimetres deep on the road. And there were no tire tracks to lead me to safety. A swamp lurked somewhere around here and it would be just my luck to drive right into it. I stopped the car and pulled my phone out. I hesitated.

If I called Redfern, he would search for me. Hell, he would have the whole force search for me. Then I would have to listen to a lecture about … well, so many things. I wasn't up for it, definitely not desperate enough yet. I opened the window and stuck my head out. I sniffed. Putrefied vegetation with a touch of dead animal odour. I had to be close to the swamp. It hadn't frozen over yet. Therefore, Dogtown was nearby …

Not twenty-five metres beyond the side of my car, I saw lights shimmer through a gap in the treeline. I shut off my car and started walking. The lights danced crazily in the wind, appearing and disappearing. The snow covered my ankles, packing into my boots. I heard voices, or was that the howling of wolves? I'd take swamp ghosts over wolves any day.

I stopped at a high chain-link gate — thrown open, thank God. I trudged through the gateposts. Strings of coloured lights hung between trailer homes. Flames from a bonfire defied the snow and soared skyward. Packs of children and a few dogs ran between the trailers. The sounds of a crackling fire, screaming children, and barking dogs never sounded better. I wasn't alone in the storm!

Several of the dogs — they looked more like coyotes — faced me and growled low in their throats. One of the wee sprites caught sight of me and screamed in fright. Another shouted, “Papa, Papa, come quick. It's a witch!” Another shouted, “Monster! Monster!”

Kind of rude. “Excuse me, sweetie. Can you tell me where this is? I'm lost.” Several more mutts joined the growling pack and soon they all snarled and gnashed their fangs at me. Chances were pretty good this was Dogtown, but confirmation would be useful.

A man's figure materialized beside me. As he came closer, I saw he was carrying an armful of logs. “Never mind, Chevy. It's just a lady, not a witch or monster. Go back to playing, but mind the fire.”

The kids ran off, but the dogs stayed.

I couldn't make out the man's features. They were hidden behind a beard that seemed to have no end. A Toronto Maple Leafs toque hid his eyebrows.

“You lost, young lady?”

“Is this Dog…, uh, yes, I'm lost.”

“This is Dogtown. Where are you headed?”

“Well, Dogtown.”

“So, you found it. You can't be lost.”

“I don't know how I got here, or how to get back to the highway.”

“Young lady, you're confusing me. Why are you here?”

“I'm looking for F…, uh, Rupert Davidson.”

“Fang? I'm his dad. What do you want with Fang? You don't have a bun in the oven, do you? Hope not. You're, what, barely five feet tall? You'd shorten our gene pool considerably.” He chortled and threw a log into the fire.

“No bun. And I'm five foot two. Fang isn't answering his phone, and I want him to look at my eavestrough. Parts of it are coming loose from the house.” Boy, this had been such a bad idea. “I'm really sorry about Faith, Mr. Davidson. She was a nice person, and smart. Is there going to be a service?”

He peered into my face. “Say, you're that little girl Fang brought home in the back of his truck one time, aren't you? You were wrapped up in a rug and I had to drive you home.”

“Yes, I was only seventeen then.”

“I guess you were at that. That was the night Faith disappeared, though it was a couple of days before we knew she wasn't at my sister's in Toronto. After a while we sensed she wasn't coming back, but we never thought she was so close by.” He lifted his face to the falling snow. “It's warming up. We'll have rain by morning.”

Right. Like it was going to rain before next April. Maybe May. “I can't imagine why anyone would want to harm Faith.”

“There was something on her mind that weekend. But she wouldn't say. Now I wonder if it had anything to do with … well, with what happened to her. I wish we'd tried harder to find out what was troubling her.” Another log flew into the flames and he shouted over my head, “Edsel Margaret Davidson! I told you to mind the fire. Get home now!”

“I'm sure if she was ready to tell you, she would have, Mr. Davidson.”

“Nice of you to say that, young lady, but we'll never know, not now. They haven't said for sure it's Faith — took some DNA from me and her mother. But we already know. Once they get their testing done, we can have a funeral and bring her home.” He gestured with his head to an area beyond the trailers. “We have our own family cemetery. We'll put Faith there. Maybe in the spring.”

“Have you told the police that something was bothering Faith that weekend?”

“I told them. Say, you sure you're not after Fang for yourself? You used to pal around with him, I remember. He's got a wife and four children now, you know.”

“So I hear. I'm not after him, honestly. I didn't realize how hard it is to find Dogtown in a snowstorm.”

The remaining logs tumbled into the fire. “All right, then. He's not home right now. He says you're a pain in the ass. That's why he won't answer, but I'll give him the message and make sure he calls you back.”

“Okay. Can you give me directions back to the highway?”

Mr. Davidson walked me to the gate. “Your car is pointed east. Keep going and take the first right and it will take you to the highway. Mind the swamp. Turn right again to get back to town.”

“Thanks. How come you don't have your gate closed? I thought you like to keep strangers out?” I slipped in the deep snow, and Mr. Davidson grabbed me by my scarf and pulled me upright.

“Probably wouldn't have kept you out, would it? We only close it on Sundays, to slow down the Jehovah Witnesses. It's hard to discourage them, believe it or not. They seem to think we're a pack of heathens in here.” He tightened his grip on my scarf and hauled me across the road to my car. I put my fingers under the knot to loosen it.

“Oh, that's easy, Mr. Davidson. Just tell them you're Wiccans. It works for me.” He opened my door and I climbed in. Sheets of snow slid onto my seat and floorboards.

“Huh. Wiccans, eh? I'll try it. I don't suppose you have anything for the Mormons?”

“Tell them you're Jehovah's Witnesses. That should do it.”

“Thank you kindly, young lady. I'll tell Fang to call you tomorrow. You drive safely now.” White, even teeth gleamed through the dark moustache and beard.

I pulled my foot into the car a millisecond before he slammed the door. Wet snow filled my beloved black UGGs with the Swarovski crystal button closure. If they were ruined, I would never be able to replace them. I'd have to buy new ones, in a different style.

Did Mr. Davidson instruct me to take the first left, or the first right?