Fall of Night, page 24
“I’m just saying, you seemed pretty upset when we arrived,” Jordan said. “It’s just interesting that you could be so thoughtful prior to that.” He tapped his pen, not breaking eye contact. “And yet so anxious you didn’t think of doing CPR when you found an unresponsive acquaintance of yours lying in the stairwell.”
A line of muscle flickered under the skin of Mr. Farrel’s jaw.
Jordan looked back at his notes. “When the ambulance arrived, you seemed rather upset.”
“I was.”
“Are you feeling better now?”
“I am. I’d like to finish this up though. It’s been a rough day.” Tom’s voice was velvet over a blade.
Jordan added the last few notes, then turned the document around and held it out to Tom. Much to his surprise, the man didn’t read it—didn’t even skim through—he simply found the spot at the bottom and scribbled his name. He held the document back out Jordan.
“May I go now, Constable Wyatt?”
Jordan’s brows pulled together. “You seem like you’re in a rush, Mr. Farrel. Is something wrong?”
“Not at all.”
“You’ll tell me if you remember something else. Right?”
“Of course I will.”
Tom smiled but it held no warmth at all. He was, Jordan would think later, an entirely different person than he’d appeared to be when they’d sat down in the lounge of the Emerald Bay Lodge.
Jordan didn’t trust him.
***
Rich drove the car to the Emerald Bay Lodge and pulled over to the side of the road. Lou peered out the window. A knot of townspeople huddled under umbrellas, talking. The locals had come out like this only one other time that she could remember: the night the Whitewater Lodge had burned to the ground. Misery loves company, she thought grimly. Something bad had happened while they’d been gone.
“You want to get out and see what’s going on?” Rich asked.
“Yeah. Can you wait for me a minute,” Lou said, unbuckling.
“Of course. I’ll come along too.”
Lou forced a smile she didn’t feel. The last hour had been a rehashing of dark times and it felt like she’d stumbled right back into that afternoon, decades earlier when she’d been trapped by rising water. All that was missing was her father, white-cheeked and sick, lying on the banks of a swollen creek. She forced the image away as she slammed the car door.
On the far side of the street, Levi and Hunter stood under the awning of a nearby house, the two men deep in conversation. A short distance away, Margaret, Ron, and Grant waited. The elderly woman was bowed almost in half, a plaid handkerchief pressed to her eyes as she sobbed. The image sent a sliver of ice through Lou’s chest.
“Margaret,” she whispered. Lou turned to Rich. “I have the worst feeling about this.”
Rich nodded.
Hand in hand, they jogged across the street to Margaret’s side. Rain plastered Lou’s hair to her head, trickling down her neck to her back.
“Margaret?” The old woman didn’t move or look up. “Margaret,” Lou said again, “are you alright?”
Mrs. Lu’s chin bobbed and she looked up. Her eyes were bloodshot. She shook her head: No.
“What happened?” Lou asked. A wave of sobs overcame Margaret and Lou looked to Grant and Ron. “Grant? Levi? What’s going on?”
Grant pointed. With a feeling of dread, Lou turned, following the line of his finger across the street to where Elaine Decker stood, deep in conversation with Constable Black Plume. Behind them, two EMTs carried out a stretcher, a body strapped to it. A bright flash of colour caught Lou’s eyes. Is that…? As she watched, one of the EMTs zippered the body bag closed. The realization hit Lou like a lightning strike.
“Audrika, no!” Lou cried. Behind her, Margaret’s sobs grew in intensity.
Rich slid his arm over Lou’s shoulders. “It’s okay.”
Lou shook her head. Death had come yet again to Waterton and even with her warning, Louise hadn’t been able to stop it.
***
Sadie was alone at her computer station, trying to make sense of the inchoate notes and snippets of information. It was enough to overwhelm. A single light flooded piles of statements, waiting to be typed. She could hear Liz tapping away at her own computer now, but there was more to be done. Snapshots of both Ben’s murder scene, and Audrika, dead at the bottom of a flight stairs lay in an untidy mess. At least that death seemed to make sense. Audrika, in her high heels, appeared to have slipped. All evidence suggested a quick, dramatic death. But something about it worried her.
What’s your gut telling you, Sadie?
She jerked in surprise as Jim’s voice, as clear as if he was standing next to her, echoed through her mind. She glanced warily behind her. Finding the room empty, as she knew she would, her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them angrily away. Been awake for too goddamned long, she thought. That’s the problem. Imagining that Jim was here wouldn’t help. With a sigh, she stood and carried the photographs from Ben’s murder scene to the billboard. She pinned a picture of the body next to the image of Gabrielle Rice and frowned. Two bodies. Both found in distant locales, both located just inside Waterton park.
You’re missing one person though.
With a hiss, Sadie spun on her heel. The room was empty. But there was a scent now, a faint whiff of what she recognized as Jim’s particular brand of aftershave: sandalwood with a hint of amber. Sadie lifted a shaking hand and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. She blinked away the last dregs of exhaustion. There was no one here in the room. She knew it; she could see it. But it felt like there was. Fear rose alongside her heartbeat.
“I don’t have time to go crazy,” she whispered.
She’d seen people destroyed by grief—her mother, after her brother’s death was one—and it was easy to get lost in that well of anguish. She had a murderer to catch. Three people had died—two of them homicides—and if she didn’t keep her head together then—
It’s actually three homicides.
Sadie flinched. “Stop it, Jim!” she hissed.
The keystrokes stopped. “What’s that?” Liz called from the other room.
“Nothing,” Sadie said, then cleared her throat. “Just thinking aloud. Sorry about that.”
“Alrighty then. Call if you need me.”
Liz’s typing returned.
Sadie took one more look at the pile of papers on her desk. She walked over and picked up an image of Audrika Kulkarni with her neck twisted at a horrifying angle. After a long moment, Sadie walked back to the board. Her logical mind said it was an accident, but her gut said otherwise.
With a grim smile, she pinned the photo in place.
“Fine,” she said. “Audrika makes three.”
Chapter fifteen
Jordan had just returned from his break, joining Sadie in the office, when there was a knock at the door. Liz peered around the edge of the doorframe.
“Guys, we’ve got a Mr…” She glanced at a hand-written note. “Tom Farrel out front. He’d like to talk to you.”
Jordan glanced at Sadie. “He’s that investigator guy from New York. The one I interviewed when you were getting Margaret’s statement.”
“What do you think he wants?”
“Not sure.” Jordan said. “But I told him to come by if he remembered anything else. Could be that.”
“Huh.”
They headed out of the office to find Mr. Farrel waiting. He looked calmer than when they’d spoken, Jordan thought. His hair was combed back from his forehead, his suit neat and buttoned. On the counter next to him was a packing box with black printing on top.
Tom looked up. “Ah, Constables Black Plume and Wyatt, I’m so glad you’re here.”
Irritation rankled under Jordan’s calm exterior. Something bugged him about Tom Farrel, and he wasn’t sure what.
“I brought you my investigative notes.” Tom pushed the box forward.
Sadie caught Jordan’s gaze for a split-second. “Notes?”
“Yes,” Tom said. “I came to Waterton to find Gabrielle Rice. To locate her, if possible, but with her death my task is done.”
“I don’t understand,” Jordan said. “You’ve been interviewing everyone in town. I thought you wanted to figure out who the killer was.”
“Oh no,” he said. “I’ll leave that in your capable hands.”
“Then why were you interviewing the townspeople?” Sadie asked.
“Honestly? To find out if Rich Evans killed Gabrielle Rice.”
Jordan’s eyes widened. Rich was high on the list of suspects.
“And what did you find?” Sadie said.
“Not much,” Tom said. “After talking to everyone, I think it’s fairly certain Rich Evans wasn’t involved.”
Sadie’s eyes narrowed. “Why’re you telling us this?”
“Because I want to help.” Tom pushed the filing box across the counter. “I’m heading out of town. When I came into Canada, I told Customs I was here for a week or two—to find Gabrielle. It’s been almost three.” He shrugged. “Mr. Rice wants me back in New York. I’m supposed to give him my final report.”
Jordan frowned. “But…”
“But what?” Tom said.
“But you were the one of the two people who found Audrika Kulkarni. Constable Black Plume and I are still investigating her death.”
“It was Mrs. Lu who actually saw the body. I told you, I thought it was a pile of clothes.”
“But you were there.”
Tom’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, but… I was under the impression it was an accident.”
“It likely was,” Sadie said, “but we can’t be certain. The investigation isn’t complete.”
“Do you need me to stay in Canada a little longer?” Tom asked. “If you could contact the Canadian consulate, I’m certain you could get things arranged. I’ll need an extension on my work permit. You’ll have to drive to Edmonton and arrange that.” He gave a short laugh. “I spoke to them this morning, actually. They seemed… less than helpful regarding my request.”
Jordan sighed. Tom seemed like he wanted to help, and Audrika’s death didn’t seem like murder. She was wearing heels and she’d fallen. Case closed.
“Do you have your flights booked?” Sadie asked.
“I do, but I can always change them. Mr. Rice is footing the bill.”
Jordan forced a smile he didn’t feel. Mr. Rice was already a thorn in his side. Keeping his private investigator here in Canada without any evidence to implicate him as anything other than a bystander would only make things worse. “Mr. Farrel,” Jordan said, “if you could just wait here a moment. I need to check something with our files. Don’t leave, alright?”
“Of course.”
Jordan shot Sadie a knowing look and she followed him into the office, closing the door behind her.
“You need him to stay?” she said.
“I don’t know. I don’t think we can keep him. There’s nothing to suggest that he had anything to do with Audrika’s death.”
“True, but we still have two other bodies. Tom Farrel was here in town at the time.” Sadie nodded to the billboard. “There’s a possibility the killer was him.”
“Shit! I wish everything wasn’t happening so fast.”
“Me too,” Sadie said. “But if we don’t have evidence to charge Farrel, we aren’t going to convince any judge to let us hold him.”
“So what do we do?”
“We let him go.”
Jordan swore under his breath.
“Relax,” she said. “We know his employer. We know he came to Canada legally, and he’s following the rules to a ‘T’. If we need him again, we know where to find him.” She turned, glancing back at the images that cluttered the billboard, now full of competing evidence. “But for now, we let him go.”
“Alright, let’s tell him.” He reached for the door handle.
“Hold up.”
Jordan turned. “What?”
“You were getting papers, right?” Sadie pulled open the drawer of a nearby cabinet and grabbed several pieces of photocopied paper. “Let’s make it worth his while.”
Jordan laughed as she handed him the pages. “Bystander summary? But we already have Tom’s statement.”
“We do. And now he’s going to give us another.” Sadie winked. “Maybe he forgot something.”
“You’re terrible.”
“No. Just covering my bases.”
Jordan smirked as Sadie pulled open the door. Mr. Farrel still waited at the counter. He perked up as they neared.
“Everything alright?” he asked.
“There you go, Mr. Farrel,” Jordan said, pushing the papers across the desk toward him. “If you could fill these forms in before you leave, that’d be great.”
Tom wilted. “No problem,” he said. “And this here.” He nodded to the box, still on the counter. “If you don’t want it, I’ll drop it off to be shred—”
“No, no.” Sadie tapped the box. “I’d like to take a look through.”
“Alright then. I wish you both luck with this case. I thought it was Rich Evans, but…” he shrugged. “I just couldn’t make the pieces fit.”
He smiled and Jordan’s hands clenched into fists. “Don’t forget the forms,” he said. “You’ll need to fill those out.”
“Of course,” Tom said. “I’ll bring them back this afternoon.” He stepped back from the counter. “Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
“Will do,” Sadie said.
Jordan said nothing, just watched him as he walked out the door, letting it bang shut behind him.
“Asshole.”
Sadie laughed. “You okay?”
“That guy rubs me the wrong way.”
“Me too,” she said. “Now we just need to figure this mess out.”
Jordan rolled his eyes. “With all our spare time.”
***
Lou stood at the stove, the spatula held over the frying pan, sizzling meat forgotten. “Sadie told you what?”
“Told me that Mr. Farrel had been investigating me. He apparently handed over a box of stuff to the police yesterday.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Detailed summaries of my comings and goings, receipts showing my whereabouts.” He frowned. “There were even photographs.”
Lou dropped the spatula and it splattered in the pan. “Photos.”
“Yeah.”
Lou pushed the still-hot frying pan off the burner and flicked it off. “That guy was following you?!”
“From what Sadie gathered from the photos, it seems like it, yeah.”
“This worries me, Rich.”
Rich stepped up and laced his hands around her waist. “It’s not so bad though.”
Lou looked up. “Why’s that?”
“Farrel’s on his way out of town.” He shrugged. “That’s what I heard anyhow.”
“I…” Lou frowned. “Well, that’s good, I guess.”
“It is.” Rich’s arms tightened. “Sadie told me that he didn’t think I’d had anything to do with Gabrielle’s death.”
“Farrel told the police that?”
“Apparently so.”
“Huh. After that confrontation with him, I didn’t know what he might say.”
“Like I told Sadie and Jordan: I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“I know.” Lou smiled and buried her face against his chest. “I’m glad this is finally ending. It’s been an awful few weeks.”
“It has been, but you and I are strong.”
“We are.”
“I meant those vows.” His lips brushed hers, hands sliding into her hair. “There’s nothing that’ll get between—” Knocking interrupted and Rich turned to glare at the door.
“You were saying?” Lou giggled.
Rich touched the tip of her nose. “We will be finishing this, later.”
“Promise?”
Rich leaned closer. “Absolutely. I just wish—”
The knocking returned, louder and more insistent. “We’d better let Hunter and Levi in,” Lou said.
“I suppose.” With a sigh, Rich headed for the door. The knocking grew louder. “Coming!” Rich shouted. “Just hold on a minute.” He swung the door open to find Hunter and Levi on the other side, Hunter’s hand lifted to knock yet again.
“Wasn’t sure you could hear me.” Hunter said with a wink.
“Knocking was certainly loud enough.”
“Yeah, well. I needed to be loud.” Hunter gave Lou a quick hug. “Thought you two might be… busy.”
“Hunter stop.” Lou laughed. “You’re worse than Dad was.”
He took his place at the table, pulling back the chair so that Levi—arm in sling—could join him.
“Nah,” Hunter said, “I’m only trying to carry that torch.”
“I’m not sixteen, you know,” Lou said.
“But not too old for a guiding hand.”
Lou rolled her eyes. “And when’s that going to end, hmmm? Like if I were married,” she said, “would that make a difference?”
“I suppose it would, though I’ll never stop thinking of you as that little black-haired girl I met, balancing on a bucket next to that sink to fill a…”
Hunter’s words trailed off, eyes widening.
A heartbeat passed. Another. The question hung in the kitchen between the four of them, waiting to be answered.
Suddenly Levi hooted. “You sly dog, Evans! Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Levi’s laughter released the rest of them. Hunter laughed and rushed to Louise, pulling her into a bear hug.
“When?” he said in a thick voice. “And why wasn’t I told about this?”
Lou grinned. “I’m telling you now.”
“Yes, but when?” Hunter let go of Lou and turned to Rich. Rich held out his hand, but the older man threw his arms around him. Lou’s chest tightened at the sight. Hunter was as close to blood family as she had left and it felt good to see her past and future knit together.
