“I'm not fucking moving because she says so!” Stockwell said.
McTavish kept silent, but his eyes were on Stockwell.
Lane looked at Eva. He saw in her eyes that she might easily step forward and cut Stockwell's throat.
Lane could feel the rage rising off of her. He thought,
Go ahead Eva, I won't stop you
.
Stockwell walked straight out of the patch, each step deliberately crushing a plant where its stalk met the soil.
Lane watched Eva. She kept her eyes on Stockwell.
He turned his back on her and marched away.
Lane looked around. The other officers watched Stockwell with undisguised contempt.
Eva looked at Lane and then McTavish. She said, “Norm was a child in his heart. Treat his body like you would treat a child's?”
“Of course,” McTavish said.
She looked at the paramedics. “It's over. His spirit's gone.”
Lane nodded.
“We will be at my place if you need us.” Eva walked back to Aidan. Aidan got in the passenger side of her pickup. Harper opened the door so Eva could climb in behind the wheel. She started the engine and waited for other vehicles to get out of the way before reversing and driving away.
McTavish looked at Lane. “I saw you stepping away from cover. Why?”
“I realized Norm's weapon was useless. I was too late.” Lane felt as if he were in a hole and someone was shoveling guilt down on him.
“Norm shot the cowboy who was shooting at you?” McTavish asked.
“Yes,” Lane said.
“And the others?” McTavish asked.
“Norm killed two of the men who were in the truck that ran down Eva's grandson.” Lane felt Harper's hand at his back.
McTavish turned to Harper. “The bodies of the two who are missing?”
“Yes, we don't know where they are for certain,” Harper said.
McTavish said, “You know, after the facts about this shooting get out, there'll be hell to pay. Stockwell was acting like a cowboy.”
After several more hours at the scene, Harper drove them back to the city. When they passed the Super Service gas station, he said, “What do we do now?”
Lane made no attempt to hide his anger when he said, “We have to find the missing men! This whole mess needs to be cleared up and out in the open before it will be finished!”
TUESDAY, JULY 16
“We're not walking on egg shells in this house for one more second!” Arthur said.
Lane had just yelled at Roz, who'd touched his hand with a cold nose. He watched as she ducked away, then returned with her tail wagging to say all was forgiven. It was then that Lane remembered Roz begging forgiveness from the woman who'd found the body of Skip Lombardi along the Elbow River. The woman who drove away with the abandoned Roz running behind. He thought,
Shit! By the time I remember anything it's too late!
“What?” Arthur looked across the cold cuts, potato salad, and pickles set out for dinner. Matt and Christine
were looking for an exit. Arthur looked at each of them and said, “You two stay put. I'm tired of walking on eggshells with the two of you as well!”
Lane looked at Roz. He offered his open hand. She came to get her neck rubbed. “I took too long to put evidence together, and a man died because of it.”
“You shot him?” Arthur glared at Lane across the table.
Lane felt the intensity of the look and felt his skin flush. “No. But if I'd put it together a minute earlier, I could have stopped someone else from shooting him.”
Arthur's voice oozed sarcasm when he said, “So not only are you responsible for your actions, now you're responsible for the actions of others! Give me a break. I'm sorry to tell you this, but the entire world doesn't revolve around you.”
Anger flashed in Lane. “The poor bastard was only a kid!”
“And he was over fifty!” Arthur reached for a slice of garlic beef. “Let's not forget that fact! In fact let's not forget who shot him. An officer who likes crowd control duty so he can bash a few heads.”
Lane looked sideways at Arthur.
Arthur said, “You know I listen to your conversations. I know what cops talk about!”
Christine and Matt kept their hands at their sides.
Lane glared at Arthur.
Arthur picked up the plate of pickled beets. “It happened. It shouldn't have, but it happened. Sometimes that's all there is to be learned.”
Lane shook his head. He reached for his napkin. Roz poked his elbow with her nose.
Arthur said, “And let's not forget that you were wounded. All four of us are still dealing with that. Harper is taking a couple of days off. Erinn's a wreck after this latest shooting. Now,” he turned to Christine and Matt, “what's been eating you two? We're going to begin talking about what's bothering everyone instead of fighting. I'm a nervous eater.” He grabbed the bowl of potato salad and began scooping it onto his plate. “If things don't start to calm down around here, I'll gain twenty kilos!”
“You want me to leave, don't you?” Christine started to stand.
“Who said anything about that?” Arthur started putting potato salad on Christine's plate until she sat back down. “We're solving a problem.” He held the spoon erect. “Maybe other families aren't like this, but this is how this family solves its problems. We talk!” He flicked the spoon for effect. A dollop of potato salad flew across the table.
Lane wiped potato salad from his face.
Matt covered his mouth.
Arthur began scooping more potato salad onto his plate. “It's not fair if the three of you can get angry, and I gain all the weight!”
Matt pointed at the potato salad. “And it's not fair if the rest of us starve because you won't share.”
Arthur looked at the bowl. He'd scooped it clean of all the salad. The mound on Arthur's plate covered the beets and meat he'd already piled there.
Matt's eyes got wide as he realized what he'd said could ignite a bigger argument.
Arthur began to laugh.
Within a breath, they all joined in, including the dog, who howled at Lane's side. Lane looked at Roz and then at the people around the table. He thought,
We've all been abandoned, just like Aidan and Alex. Maybe that's why we fight like hell to stay together
.
The laughter faded.
Lane said, “I just realized I met Roz before we adopted her.”
“Tell us,” Matt said.
Lane began to laugh. “Maybe after supper.”
The first question Matt asked after dinner was, “Where did you meet Roz before?”
“I don't know. It might make you think less of her,” Lane said.
“We're not stupid,” Christine said.
“I know ⦔ Lane began.
“Then let us decide for ourselves,” Matt said.
Arthur smiled, then took another sip of wine.
“When we went to see the body of the man by the river, Roz was there. She tried to pull the body out of the water. Roz's owner thought Roz was eating the corpse. The forensic examiner on the scene could find no evidence that Roz did anything but try to pull the man away from the water. The woman who owned her was upset and abandoned Roz in the parking lot.” Lane looked at Roz, who lay on her belly in the middle of the front-room floor. Her head was cocked to one side as she tried to follow the conversation.
“So that's how she ended up on Glenmore Trail?” Christine asked.
Lane nodded. “Apparently, Roz ran until the pads
on her paws were worn down. She sat down on the road and caused a traffic jam.”
“That's bullshit! She does nothing wrong and gets abandoned!”
Matt said.
Lane thought,
Matt's angrier than he needs to be
. Then he realized,
Maybe he's got every right to be angry
.
“The question is, how do you feel about her now?” Arthur asked.
“Lucky us,” Christine said. “We ended up with Roz.”
And
, Lane thought,
lucky us, we ended up with the three of you
.
Harper stood in the middle of the kitchen, wincing each time a cupboard door slammed.
Erinn worked her way from cupboard to cupboard, starting with the one located next to the fridge, then around to the stove. She opened each door and slammed it.
Harper heard the screams of his daughter coming from her bedroom.
“Who lives like this?!” Erinn slammed another cupboard door. Something ceramic tumbled inside.
“Erinn,” Harper said.
“I can't live like this! The baby! Glenn! What do we do when you don't come home?!” Erinn finished at the stove and walked across the kitchen to the fridge, ready to begin the slamming all over again.
Harper reached for her arm.
She pulled away. Her face was red with rage, her eyes wild from fear and lack of sleep.
“What's going on?” Glenn leaned in the doorway leading downstairs. He crossed his arms and looked around the kitchen. His gaze stopped at Erinn, who was catching her breath, her wild eyes locked on him.
“I can see why you're tired of this kitchen, I mean, it matches the walls. Pretty beige if you ask me. If you want, we can go look at some colours.” Glenn leaned his head to the right and focused on his uncle.
Harper moved to Erinn and put his arms around her. Erinn struggled, then began to weep.
“I'll go get Jessica,” Glenn said.
Lane's mind was somewhere between asleep and awake when the phone rang.
Arthur answered it, “Hello? Harper? Just a minute.” He handed the phone to Lane.
Lane took the phone, “What's up?”
Harper said, “I'm going to take a few more days off. Erinn finally fell asleep. She was freaking out.”
Lane's mind filled with a myriad of questions. “You okay?”
“I hope so.” Harper hung up.
“What's the matter?” Arthur took the phone as Lane handed it to him.
“Erinn's freaking out.” Lane looked at the ceiling of their bedroom.
“I don't blame her.” Arthur rolled onto his shoulder with his back to Lane.
The phone rang again five hours later.
Arthur tried to pick up the phone and dropped it on the rug. He reached for the fallen phone then fell after it. “Hello?”
“For you.” Arthur handed the phone to Lane.
Lane's shoulder and chest muscles complained from the aftereffects of the exploding air bag as he reached for the phone. “Hello.”
“Detective Lane?” the chief asked.
Lane eased his feet out of bed and sat up. He winced at the pain from his wound. “Yes.”
“A barricade has been set up across the highway near the edge of the city limits, not far from the scene of the most recent shooting. You know the location?” The chief's voice sounded tired.
“Yes.” Lane looked at the clock on the night table. It was fifteen minutes after four.
“A woman named Eva Starchild has asked for you specifically. She needs you at the barricade by five
AM
. Detective Harper is unavailable?”
“That's correct.” Lane stood up. He heard Arthur climbing back into bed.
“A cruiser is en route to you. It will take you to the scene. The driver will be there within the next five minutes. The officer escorting you has been ordered to keep me apprised of the situation. Take your phone.” The chief hung up.
Lane reached for his clothes.
When he made it downstairs, red and blue lights reached inside, illuminating the way. He stepped into his shoes, grabbed a jacket, stepped outside, and locked the door.
Lane walked to the cruiser. The outside air was fresh and cool on his face. He leaned down and looked inside the car. The driver waved at him. He had the seat all the way back, but was still crammed in behind the
wheel. Lane got in. The driver's hand dwarfed Lane's when they shook hands. Lane spotted a black braid of hair as the driver shoulder checked.
“Oscar,” the officer said as Lane buckled up.
“Lane.”
Oscar kept the lights on but didn't use the siren. Lane saw almost no traffic as Oscar raced down into the river valley.
“The barricade is set up within city limits. The chief is trying to keep it quiet and wants a low profile for as long as possible. She thinks the best way to find a solution is without the glare of cameras.” Oscar drove over the bridge.
Lane looked at the cruiser's lights reflected over the Bow River. “How many on the barricades?” He opened his window to let in some air.
My mind's got to be sharp for this!
“The estimate is ten to fifteen.” Oscar braked for a four-way stop. He looked from left to right.
Lane was pushed back as Oscar touched the accelerator. “Armed?”
Oscar nodded. “The spotter says mostly hunting rifles and shotguns.” Oscar used his thumb to point at the back seat. “There's a Glock and a holster for you.”
They began their climb out of the river valley. On the left, the lights of downtown lit up the belly of a black sky.
Oscar opened up the engine along Sarcee Trail. They roared up the hill.
“You're liking this,” Lane said.
Oscar grinned. “You bet.”
“Anything more I need to know?” Lane asked.
“As soon as you've checked out the situation, the chief wants you to call her. Got your phone?”
Lane pulled it out of his jacket pocket. The air rushed in the window, buffeting him. He shivered and closed the window. “Anywhere we can stop for some coffee?” He thought,
There's just no way I'm going to watch anyone else get shot
.
In ten minutes they approached the police roadblock and were waved through. Lane balanced two trays of coffees on his knees.
“I'm trying not to spill any.” Oscar dodged a rough spot in the road.
They cruised past the Super Service gas bar. Lane saw that it was closed. Four police cruisers and a van were parked under the lights. Officers gathered around a map they had spread across the hood of one of the cruisers.