Authors: Jude Pittman
Martine's door stood ajar. Right from the start she'd been open about sharing their common areas. Too bad she wasn't so open about other aspects of their lives.
Whoa boy. Jesse tamped his libido as he let himself inside his own condo and headed for the living room.
If the lady in question knew what I was thinking my scalp would be hanging alongside yours. Jesse addressed the row of scalps hanging from one of the antique belts in his collection. Jesse's living room décor reflected his cultural heritage and his passion for traditional oddities like the scalp collection. Against the wall stood a six-foot oak cabinet with heavy doors and stained glass inserts. Inside a beat up leather case lined with faded blue velvet cloth held Jesse's most cherished possession. Wrapped in a swatch of rabbit's fur lay the sacred pipe that he had carved back when he'd been sweating drugs and alcohol out of his system.
Taking the pipe out of its case and strolling out to the patio, Jesse settled into a chair and lit the pipe. He needed to offer prayers for the young girl's spirit and remind the Creator that getting respect had been a hard struggle for his people.
Vancouver
was a major improvement over the small
Ontario
town where Jesse and his sister grew up, but the line between white man and Indian never quite went away. Having a brother accused of a ritual sex crime would be a major setback.
Down below an ethnic mix of Caucasians, Natives, Asians, East Indians and Africans strolled past the pasta houses, delis, coffee shops and fruit stands lining
Commercial Drive
. Hands of every shape and size picked through boxes of plump red tomatoes, measured sacks of onions, and pinched the flesh of red, yellow and green peppers. Pungent strings of garlic hung from wooden rafters and fresh cut flowers poked their heads out of baskets and tubs lining the sidewalks.
Jesse's patio door slid open and the spicy scent of Opium perfume interrupted his reverie. He turned his head to meet a pair of eyes the color of rich dark chocolate. Hot and dark and sweet. Damn. Jesse stumbled back from the railing.
"What's wrong?" Martine reached for his arm.
Jesse shook his head and thanked his ancestors for blush free olive skin. How in the hell she managed to disengage his brain without so much as an intimate glance was more than he could understand.
"Hanson called this afternoon." Words rushed out to cover his stupidity. "They found a dead girl in
Stanley
Park
and he thought she might be one of mine. I didn't recognize her."
Martine's face turned white. "I hope it isn't
Shannon
." Instinctively she reached for Jesse's hand.
"Who's
Shannon
?"
"One of the girls from my circle. She didn't show up Monday night and I called her brother Alex. He hadn't seen her since the weekend, and the house mother at Evergreen house hasn't seen her since Monday afternoon."
"Maybe she went home?" Most of the girls in Martine's circle came from the reservation, and it wasn't uncommon for one of them to suddenly quit the city.
She shook her head. "Shannon and Alex are alone in the world. They were in foster care on
Vancouver Island
. When Alex won a track scholarship to the
University
of
British Columbia
he moved over here. Within a month
Shannon
followed him. He lives in a dorm so he brought
Shannon
to the Friendship Centre and we set her up at Evergreen House." Martine turned back and crossed to the patio door. "I'm going to phone and see if he's heard anything."
While Jesse waited for Martine's return, he watched an old geezer in a sweat-stained cowboy hat who had stopped in front of the liquor store. The musician lifted a guitar out of a battered case and propped it open--an invitation to passing shoppers to salute the tunes with coins. Then the old timer swung the guitar over his shoulder and started strumming the opening bars to Roger Miller's King of the Road.
Jesse leaned on the railing and listened while keeping an ear out for Martine. It sure seemed to be taking her a long time. Damn, I hope the girl has been found. But minutes later when Martine stepped through the doorway the look on her face gave him the bad news.
"Alex still hasn't heard from
Shannon
." That hushed little girl voice had Jesse gripping the rail to keep from reaching for her.
"Alex is worried sick. I didn't tell him about the dead girl, but I'd like to see her."
"She's in the morgue. It's pretty grim down there. Are you sure?"
"I've got to, for Alex's sake."
"I'll call Mark and clear it with him. Why don't we go to the kitchen? As soon as I've made my call I'll fix some coffee."
"If you show me where things are I'll fix the coffee." Martine smiled through moist eyes.
"Deal."
In the kitchen Jesse pointed out the coffee pot, cups and fixings then left her to it while he went to make his call.
In the bedroom, Jesse pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and sprawled across his king sized bed.
"Homicide." Mark Hanson's gruff bark answered Jesse's call.
"I might have an ID on the dead girl." Jesse said. "Is it possible to see her?"
"Sure. I talked to Sam a little while ago. He's finished the autopsy. I'll let him know you're bringing someone. Who?"
"Martine. The family support worker. She thinks it's one of the girls from her Monday night circle."
"That's the new gal, right? Better warn her it won't be pleasant."
"I did. She's here now. Will you set it up with Sam and give me a call when he's ready?"
"Sure. Might take awhile, but I'll get back to you quick as I can."
In the kitchen Jesse took the cup of coffee Martine handed over and loped his leg over one of the bar stools.
"Hanson will give us a call as soon as he's arranged for you to see the body."
Chapter Two
Jesse pulled into the parking garage at
Vancouver
General
Hospital
, secured a ticket and located a spot near the Morgue. Once he parked the Jeep he got out, walked around and opened the door for Martine.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He took her hand and helped her to the ground.
"I'm okay." She leaned briefly into his supporting arms. "I feel kind of sick. I'm sure it's nerves."
"I'll be right here with you." Jesse took her hand and they walked around to the side entrance of
Vancouver
General
Hospital
.
"I'm Jesse Dancer, from Street Scene. The Coroner's expecting us," Jesse said to the young orderly manning the reception desk.
The Morgue, located in the basement of the hospital, could be reached by a flight of steep metal steps, but with Martine along Jesse opted for the slightly claustrophobic elevator. In the basement, they walked along a corridor until they came to an office labeled 'Coroner'.
Jesse knocked softly and stepped inside. "How's it going, Sam?" He greeted the coroner. "I haven't seen you since Mark's last poker game. How's that boy of yours?"
"Good to see you Jesse." Sam stood and stuck out his hand. "Sam Jr's growing like a weed. He'll be starting school this fall."
"Seems like only yesterday, you were trying to figure out how to change a diaper." Jesse grinned at Sam. "This is Martine," he said, indicating the woman beside him. "I guess Hanson called you?"
Sam nodded, then grabbed a ring of keys from a drawer, and stepped around his desk. "It's just down the hall." He led them along a narrow corridor and up to a shiny metal door. "It's cold inside," he warned, as he pulled the handle.
A blast of frigid air wafted through the doorway, and Jesse put a protective arm around Martine's shoulders.
"Whenever you're ready?" Sam walked over and stood in front of a bank of shiny metal cabinets.
Jesse nodded, and Sam pulled out the bottom drawer. "Okay," he said, and lifted the sheet.
Martine gasped and turned her face into Jesse's chest.
"You recognize her?" Sam asked
"Yes, it's
Shannon
," Martine whimpered.
"Let's go back to Sam's office." Jesse led her back to Sam's office and helped her into his chair. "You sit here for a minute."
"I don't know how I'm going to tell Alex," Martine sobbed. "
Shannon
was the only family he had. He's going to be devastated."
"The police are trained to handle this kind of thing, if you'd rather not do it yourself."
"No! I want to tell him. Alex asked me to look out for
Shannon
, and I placed her in Evergreen House. They don't have any family, and I feel responsible." She brushed at her eyes. "Will you come with me?"
"Of course. I'll call Hanson and let him know, then we can head over there."
"Can you take me home first? I need a little time before I face Alex."
"Sure. I'll tell Sam we're going."
* * *
Jesse left Martine at the door to her condo. Inside his living room, he settled into the recliner and grabbed the phone.
"We've just come from the morgue," he said, when Mark answered his ring. "Martine identified the dead girl."
"Let me grab a pad." Jesse listened to shuffling papers until Mark came back on the line.
"Okay, shoot."
"Her name is Shannon Perrault. She's sixteen, raised in foster care on the
Island
, moved here about six months ago with her brother Alex. He's in a dorm at UBC and she's been staying at Evergreen House."
"How'd your girl handle the morgue?"
"It was tough, but she's okay." Jesse let out a ragged breath. "We're heading over to UBC in a few minutes."
"Tell the brother I'd like him to drop by my office in the morning."
"Will do. Thanks for letting us break it to him first."
Jesse hung up the phone just as Martine opened the door.
* * *
They made the trip to the
University
of
British Columbia
in silence. Pulling up to the
Museum
of
Anthropology Jesse
chose the parking lot next to the Longhouse. Once they had parked, Jesse took his pipe case out of the back seat and they headed across a grassy lawn to the large tent that served as a gathering place for Native students and visitors.
"I'll break the news to Alex first," Martine said, "It'll be easier than telling him in front of a stranger."
"That's a good idea. I'll set up my case and be ready in case he wants to do a pipe ceremony."
Jesse spread out his blanket and removed the smudge and pipe from his case. In the quiet spot beside the Longhouse, he sent a prayer out to the Creator that Shannon's killer would be caught quickly. He had been sitting for several minutes when Martine approached with a tall slender youth.
"Alex," she said, stopping in front of Jesse, "this is my co-worker, Jesse Dancer,"
Jesse held out his hand and Alex met his grip. Their eyes locked.
"Words won't help much right now." Jesse let his sorrow show in his eyes. "I've brought my pipe. If you choose, we can ask the ancestors to help
Shannon
cross into the spirit world."
"I'd like that," he said, and his voice trembled slightly.
They sat on the ground in a partial circle and Jesse took a bundle from his case. He removed a seashell, an eagle feather, a bag of sage and a bottle of powder.