The Frailty of Flesh (23 page)

Craig got out of his vehicle, walked up the concrete steps to the front door and knocked. He had his ID ready, but when the door opened he lowered it. “When we met the other day you never mentioned your name.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“And Ted Bicknell?”

“My father.”

“You know who I am?”

Jim Bicknell stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind him. He was average in most respects except for his bulk. Brown hair, brown eyes, a jagged scar on his chin that suggested he’d been cut with a knife or a bottle. When Bicknell had pulled up next to Craig’s vehicle two days before, Craig hadn’t been paying much attention. He’d been distracted by what the visit represented, the knowledge that Zidani had been checking up on him.

“You’re the guy looking at the Harrington case files to see if my dad screwed up.”

Craig shook his head. “That’s not—”

“Save it, pal. I know what you’re up to.”

“Look, Lockridge is planning to file a lawsuit for wrongful conviction.”

“He already did file the suit. The RCMP, my dad, the prosecutor, my dad’s old partner. Lockridge is going after everyone.”

“I’m just trying to get to the truth. As far as I can tell, Donny still looks good for this, but hiding only makes your dad look guilty.”

“You sell it to yourself any way you want, I got no use for cops who investigate other cops.”

“That’s not my job. My boss asked me to look at the case, make sure they had nothing to worry about with the parole-board hearing. I didn’t even know about the lawsuit until after he handed me the files.”

“Look, buddy, my heart breaks for ya. But if you think you’re gettin’ anywhere near my dad so you can dump this on his lap, you can think again. Now get off this property. I won’t ask twice.”

Bicknell’s hand clenched into a fist, but the move was so subtle Craig had to rethink his opinion of Jim Bicknell. Seeing him out of uniform, on his home turf, Craig had thought he’d be the type to use brute force. But his reactions were more measured than that. Bicknell wasn’t reckless. He was controlled. And the look in his eyes was cold and hard.

“Look, I know you—”

“I’m warning you.”

“Jim, I don’t think you know everything—”

“I know enough. Now get off my property before I throw you off myself. And don’t think I won’t.”

Craig raised his hands and backed down the steps, then turned and walked to his Rodeo. He was running out of options. With Ted Bicknell unreachable and with his own dad not talking, he had only one strong lead to follow other than talking to Donny Lockridge.

And talking to Donny meant another encounter with Byron Smythe.

He got a copy of the photo of Brandy made at Staples and bought an envelope for Wendy’s picture. When he reached Wendy’s house he put her copy inside, then wrapped the envelope in the plastic bag, walked up to the front door and slipped it in the mailbox.

Craig added his copy to his file.

He looked at his watch. It was late afternoon. Already the light was dissolving. He could head east to Kelowna and talk to Brandy Lockridge first thing in the morning, be home Tuesday night.

Or he could go west and talk to Zidani, get approval before going to Kelowna. That meant he’d have to leave in the morning.

Craig started driving to the highway, still weighing the choices in his mind.

“Constable, er, Ashlyn.” Sims’s face reddened. “I thought you were dealing with the kidnappers.”

“Alleged kidnappers. I left Tain in charge.”

“There hasn’t been any activity on Shannon’s cell phone. Another day or so and I think Zidani will shut it down.”

Ashlyn nodded and sank into the chair beside Sims. “I know. And face it, if it turns out she really has been kidnapped, it won’t matter if we pull the plug here.”

“If you think it would be better for me to deal with—”

“No. I want you here, without the family lawyer looking over your shoulder. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. Any luck with Richard Reimer’s business contacts?”

Sims passed her a file. “He has more money than he should, but as far as I can tell, most of his business dealings are pretty straightforward. He’s been opportunistic, buying land in areas where there’s been a lot of crime. Once he gets a block of properties together, he hires a security firm to clean things up.”

“Rent-a-cops?”

“Sort of. Look here.” Sims flipped the file open and pulled out a map. “He buys up a bunch of houses in this part of New Westminster. Now, at the time he bought the properties, these were the stats for auto theft, break-and-enter calls, robberies. This area here has a problem with drugs and prostitution.”

“Which explains the auto thefts and robberies. Some guy jonesing for a fix who’s desperate is more likely to steal to get the money to support his habit.”

“Reimer’s guys cracked down on the robberies.” Sims pulled out a second map. “Look at the numbers.”

“A ten percent drop in auto thefts and fourteen percent in robberies?”

“Now, if you look at this”—Sims pulled out another map— “you can see that the auto thefts and robberies increased in these areas and so did the number of drug-related calls.”

“Reimer forced them off their patch. I bet whoever’s running drugs in that area wasn’t too happy with him. What it doesn’t explain is why he has Smythe as his lawyer.”

“There’s a lot of money in real estate. Wouldn’t that be enough for Smythe?”

Ashlyn smiled. “You really think the rest of Smythe’s clients are okay with him working for guys like Reimer?”

“You’re right.” Sims picked up another file. “Some of the drug dealers Smythe has represented have a habit of breaking bones when they don’t get their way. And you remember that young guy who disappeared in New West a few years back, just after leaving a casino? Never found? He’s got a tie to one of those dealers. New West is on the river.”

“They must have weighed him down good.”

“A friend of mine is on the fire department there. They got called out for a guy who’d had both his legs broken while in the comfort of his own home. Nothing missing.”

“Let me guess.”

“He didn’t get a good look at his attackers.”

“Right. Somehow failed to get a good look at them as they were breaking his legs.” She stood up with the files in hand. “Looks like I need to go have a chat with the New Westminster PD.”

Ashlyn went to Zidani’s office, but it was empty. Craig’s desk was also unoccupied.

Craig wouldn’t tell Luke anything about Vish Dhaval. There was no doubt in her mind about that, which meant that either Luke was lying about the threats, or he’d seen something at work. Luke hadn’t exactly been straight with her earlier, and he could know Vish’s name from the newspaper reports about Lori’s death.

Despite the strain of being on restricted duties for months and living with uncertainty about what was going to happen to his dad, Ashlyn had thought Craig was handling things. The lack of discussion about Lori and what had happened had been taken as a sign that he was putting it behind him, but now…

I don’t want to do this.
But she knew she had to. If Vish had been threatening them, she needed to know.

And she needed to know if Craig was keeping things from her.

She sat down at his desk. For a moment, she felt as though her heart might burst through her chest. Not once, ever, had she snooped through his things at home or pried about something this serious that he hadn’t seemed ready to talk about. Her insides twisted just at the thought of crossing that line. Luke had planted a seed of doubt that had taken root so quickly she couldn’t ignore it, and a part of her hated him for that. She didn’t know him at all and he’d stuck his nose into something that was personal.

No wonder Craig had never warmed up to the guy.

Close her eyes and she could go back a week in time and see how happy she’d been. Had her own happiness been nothing but an illusion? Was it based on denial and wishful thinking more than reality? A week ago she never would have believed Craig would walk out on her and not come home all night.

The image of Byron Smythe hobbling around his office, visible bruises, casts and crutches on display went through her mind.

Craig had been enraged. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so angry.

Ashlyn drew a deep breath. Then she opened the top desk drawer. Nothing unusual.

Notebooks and folders filled the second drawer, all of which were clearly labeled and linked to a case.

The bottom drawer revealed a sea of pink message slips and she felt her heart sink as she reached down and grabbed a handful. She read a few, then tossed them back in the drawer and pushed it shut.

Her hands trembled as she set them on his desk. After a moment, she trusted her legs enough to stand up and slowly walked around to where Luke sat.

She didn’t hesitate to open the drawers of Luke’s desk. The top one was locked. The second one was filled with legitimate work files and notebooks. The bottom drawer had a few pink slips in it, and she picked them up and read them.

Then she ran her hands under the desk, looking for a key. Her search turned up nothing, and after checking everything on the desk she gave up. Ashlyn picked up the files Sims had given her and went to get her coat.

Once Craig was sure that Ashlyn had left he went straight to Luke’s desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. After he read the messages he slammed it shut.

It took less than two minutes to place the calls he needed to make, one to check up on who’d been visiting Donny Lockridge in prison, another to follow up with the lab on the samples he’d dropped off, letting them know he’d likely be out of town for the next day or two, and they should call his cell phone as soon as they had anything.

Then he marched down the hall.

Zidani was at his desk. Craig didn’t hesitate after he knocked, just walked right in and shut the door.

“Why did you give me this case?”

“I told you. We needed to make sure that there wouldn’t be any surprises at the parole hearing.” Zidani didn’t even blink. He barely looked up long enough to confirm it was Craig before he yawned.

“Cut the crap. You’ve been griping about how I got a free ride, with my dad as sergeant here, since the day you arrived. Then you hand me a case to review when you know my dad was the primary investigating officer.”

“All this time you tell me you’re capable of doing your job, being impartial. Well, do your damn job.”

“And if I clear him you’ll be okay with that?”

Zidani slammed his hand down on his desk. “Believe it or not, I want the truth here. You come back and say we’ve got a liability issue, the department will move to settle. Nobody wants a scandal right now.”

“And if I come back and say Dad and Bicknell are clean the department will fight it?” Craig was starting to see what was going on. “You’re hanging them out to dry.”

“They’re doing that to themselves. Neither of them will talk.”

“How do you know? I haven’t given you an update.” Then it hit him. “You’ve got someone else covering the same ground.”

“No. Not exactly. Look, like it or not, you’re in this. Best thing you can do is a thorough investigation and give us your report. Surely you’ve had enough time to review the case.”

“There are gaps. I need to talk to a witness.”

“You mean there are gaps in the initial investigation?”

“I mean there are things missing from the files. When I took the boxes from this office there was a folder in there about Desiree Harrington. I get a call from my stepmother and when I come back, that file is gone. You only gave me two boxes, but I checked the records; a third box is missing. The break-in at my parents’ house? Someone took my dad’s files on the case. You know how it works. Legal will have advised him to keep his mouth shut, and without his notes and with incomplete records I’m screwed.”

“So you’re what? Interviewing everyone again?”

“Just following up on legitimate leads.”

“Fine. Talk to your witness.”

“I have to leave town. They don’t live here anymore.”

“Who’s the witness?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Constable Nolan, I don’t think I like what you’re implying.”

“That’s too damn bad. You put me in this situation, Zidani. Now, I’ve reviewed the files. I’ve talked to people from Hope’s school, her friends, her mother, seen where she died and talked to one of the other officers on the case. I tracked down Ted Bicknell, but his son won’t let me anywhere near him. And when you assigned me this case, you didn’t exactly come clean with me. I have to find out when Lockridge’s lawyer leaves phone messages and a reporter starts following me around that there’s a civil case in the works, so don’t you point fingers. That file on Desiree disappeared from this police station, and Lisa Harrington believes the person who broke in to her house the other night was a cop. If you really want answers on this case, you let me go talk to this witness. Otherwise I’ll hand you what I have now.”

“Which is?”

“A bit of room for doubt, but a solid circumstantial case that was upheld in the appeals process. The courts put an official stamp on the investigation not once, but twice. Unless you know something else about this that you aren’t telling me, then the department should fight Lockridge’s lawsuit.”