Grave Deeds (23 page)

“And she needs money to start a new life…”

“Exactly. Bonnie persuaded Robin to help Hank loot the site. She probably told him that they'd use the money to start a new life together. I know they've been fighting a lot lately, because he's been working so hard. Some of that time, he must have been up here, digging. Then Aunt Beatrice died and it looked like Marilyn was going to sell the land. Only it's my land. And we were coming to see it.”

“Robin comes up to get the loot from the camp and finds it missing. He comes around to the cottage and finds Marilyn… “

“Who's innocent of the looting, but wants the relics to sell to help pay for her legal fees. She won't tell him where they're hidden; they have a fight; he kills her; panics when he hears our car coming; and hides her body in her car under the tarp.”

Will carried on the story. “He takes the boat back to the camp and calls Bonnie from the store.”

I interrupted. “She would just have heard from Harold about his marriage and his offer to her to take the kids for the long weekend.”

“Right. She grabs the kids, and comes here to see if she can find the treasure before we do. It's a real bonus for her that you're neighbours and so she has an excuse to visit. And when she realizes we've found the relics, she comes up with another plan.”

“Bonnie wouldn't kidnap her own daughter, would she?” I realized what a stupid thing I'd just said. She'd done that all right. Twice.

“Megan would go with Robin without any trouble,” Will was still working it out. “And Robin could have been waiting with her in the car the whole time Hank was in here with us.”

“How could she know that Megan would be alone at the dock? She couldn't count on Ryan coming up to the cottage.”

“That's when things started to go really wrong. It was bad enough that Marilyn had been killed…”

“I'm sure that was an accident. Robin's a very gentle person.”

“They must have argued,” Will agreed. “And he's a big man. He could have knocked her over and her head hit one of those bedpost knobs. That would account for the blood on the mattress.”

“They would have been in the room to get the trunk …”

“Or he might have cornered her in there. If they knew where the trunk was to begin with, they wouldn't have had to go through the whole rigmarole of the kidnapping.”

“True. But that still doesn't explain why he didn't take both kids.”

“He was probably supposed to take both. I'd gone and wasn't expected back for a few hours. Bonnie would send you out in the canoe or off in the woods to look for the kids while she looked for the trunk. Once she had it, she'd be off in her car to meet with Robin and the kids at the store.”

“But then Ryan got left behind and she'd run out of gas.”

“It would have looked pretty strange if she'd insisted on taking the boy with her on the long hike up to the highway. He would have slowed her down.”

“So the phone call was a fake.” I shook my head. “And Mrs. Smith is a fiction. I mean, there are no neighbours out there on the highway. She must have made it all up. She must have searched the house to find that book of Hank's. He was right about that. She missed her calling. She should have been an actress.”

“She had the sleeping bags all rolled and their bags packed. She wasted no time getting out of the cottage with Ryan as soon as Hank had the relics. She must have told Hank to bring the gas for her.”

“And once they were gone, we would have been left trying to explain how Marilyn's body got in her car.”

“We've been set up.”

“Come on.” I put my sandwich down. “They haven't had much of a head start.”

“And if we catch up with them?”

“We stay with them until we get a chance to call the police. Maybe if Bonnie sees us and realizes we know the truth, she'll give herself up.”

“Hank has a gun,” Will reminded me.

I was already out the door. “He won't use it,” I shouted back. And added, under my breath, “I hope.”

The cow gate had been left wide open. As Will slowed to pass through, I unbuckled my seat belt ready to get out to close it.

“Don't bother,” he said.

“But the cows?”

“What harm can they do? They can't open doors.”

He gunned through and down the drive through the tunnel of trees. The lane was in deep shadow. I blinked when we came out to the river clearing.

Will jammed on the brakes.

I braced my hands against the dash, rocking in my seat with the sudden stop. “What the hell?”

“Look.”

The bridge was a scene of confusion. On the far side a white sedan was stuck in the mud, its engine roaring as its driver attempted to rock it free. Behind it was an Ontario Provincial Police cruiser. On this side, two vehicles were stopped nose to tail: Bonnie's Ford in front and a blue pick-up truck behind. They were both empty.

A small crowd stood in the centre of the bridge. When Will turned off the motor, we could hear Bonnie cajoling and threatening as her hands flew about to illustrate the explanations and persuasions that Joe Gianelli, facing her, clearly wasn't buying.

“What's he doing here?” I said.

“Who is he?”

“Detective Gianelli from Toronto. That must be Wilson in the car.” A uniformed OPP constable was also on the bridge, listening to the conversation, her hat tucked under her arm. Every few minutes, she brushed at the flies that swarmed around the bright yellow crown of her hair.

Ryan was standing beside his mother, the ubiquitous teddy bear under his arm. Behind them were Hank and Robin, the latter carrying Megan who seemed to be asleep.

“We were right,” I said. “It was Robin who took Megan.”

“A set up,” Will growled. “Bonnie has a lot of explaining to do. And some apologies as well.”

The car was unmarked, but had an offical look. It gave a great roar and lurched backwards out of the rut, almost colliding with the cruiser behind. The constable ran back to move her car. Gianelli turned away also as the others prepared to return to their cars. When she saw us, Bonnie faltered, then shepherded her children towards their vehicle. “Hurry up,” I heard her say. “Get a move on.”

“Wait a minute,” Will roared. He was out and running down the lane, slipping on the mud and keeping his balance by luck. “Don't let them get away.”

I was right behind him. “Megan's all right, isn't she?” I demanded. “She's been all right all along. There never was a kidnapping.”

“Don't say anything, Rosie,” Bonnie pleaded. “Trust me, okay?”

“Trust you!” I stopped, astonished. “I've trusted you long enough.”

“What's going on here?” Gianelli asked. “What are you talking about? Who's been kidnapped?”

Wilson got out of his car. His hand rested on the pommel of the gun he wore at his belt. The constable also turned.

“This is ridiculous,” Bonnie snapped. She turned to Gianelli. “We're in a hurry, I told you. We want to get home before dark.”

“I want to get down,” a small voice piped up. “Put me down.”

Robin lowered Megan. She ran to Ryan and tugged at the bear.

“Gimme,” she ordered. “Mine.”

“You left him behind. Finders keepers,” Ryan said.

She stomped her foot. “Gimme,” she wailed, her voice rising. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Give her the toy, Ryan,” his mother ordered. Her voice was weary.

Ryan glared at her, but handed over the bear. Megan clutched it to her breast and stuck her tongue out at her brother.

“Did you see what she did?” he demanded. “Tell her to stop, Mom.”

“Give us a break, Ryan. Megan's only a little kid.”

Ryan kicked a stone into the water. “You always let her have her own way,” he whined. “It's not fair.”

“Nothing's fair,” Bonnie snapped.

“Maybe the kids should wait in the car,” Will said. His voice was grim.

“Get in the car, Ryan, Megan,” Bonnie ordered.

“I don't want to,” Ryan pouted.

Bonnie's voice rose. “You get in the car when I tell you to.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks. “You're mean. I hate you.”

She raised her arm. “You do as I say or I'll give you something to cry about.”

“Bonnie, what are you doing?” I shouted at her.

She looked at her raised fist and then at her son. Her face crumpled. She lowered her hand. “Just do it, okay?” she said to the boy. “Just this once, will you do as I ask. Please?”

“Come on, Megan. We know when we're not wanted.” He took his sister's hand and dragged her to the Ford. She stumbled along behind him, clutching the bear. We were all silent until the car door slammed.

“I'm sorry, Rosie, Will,” Robin said. “It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.”

“Shut up,” Bonnie spat. “If you'd done your part properly, none of this would have happened.”

“What's going on?” Gianelli repeated. He slapped at his neck. “God, the bugs are bad up here.”

“It's spring,” the constable said. “What do you expect?” She looked the lot of us over, her eyes narrowing. “I'm Constable Lisa Lachance, OPP. I was showing these fellows the way to the
Baker place. City types like them, sure to get lost on these back roads and cause us even more trouble, having to find 'em.”

“He's got a gun,” I said, pointing to Hank.

“A gun?” Both officers reached for their weapons, Lachance's hand to her belt, Gianelli's disappearing inside his jacket.

“I do not,” Hank said. His face was white. “It's not real. It's plastic.”

“It looked real,” I objected.

“Where is it? Hand it over.” Lachance circled the group, edging closer to the boy.

“It's in the truck, on the seat. You'll see it's a toy.”

Lachance leaned in the truck window and brought out the weapon. I flinched.

“He's right.” She tossed it in the air and caught it in one hand. “It's a good replica. Perhaps you could explain what you're doing with it?”

Before he could answer, Wilson joined the group. He held his hand out to Will and introduced himself. “We're here to talk to Dr. Marilyn Finch.”

“You're a little late,” I said. “She's dead.”

“No!” Hank shook his head violently. “She went back home. He told me.” He jerked his thumb at Robin.

“Look,” Bonnie interrupted, her voice barely under control. “Will you just let us go? I want to get the kids home to the city. To a bath and a decent night's sleep.”

I ignored her. “I'm sorry about Marilyn, Hank.”

“You're lying,” Hank said. “She can't be dead.”

“Who's dead?” Gianelli said. “One of you at a time.” He pointed to me. “It's your cousin we're looking for. You say she's been killed?”

I nodded. “Her body's in her car, back up at the cottage. But I think she was killed in her bedroom. There's blood all over the sheets.”

“You killed her,” Hank turned on Robin. “You bastard.” He flung himself on the other man, knocking him to the ground.

Wilson and Lachance jumped in. They separated the two men, Wilson twisting Hank's arm cruelly up behind his back. The boy hung from his grasp, sobbing, blood pouring from the nose that Robin had smacked hard. Robin got to his feet slowly,
dusting off his trousers. He shook off the constable's helping hand. Gianelli quietly moved up beside him, not touching him yet, but close enough to put a hand on him if necessary.

“It was all her idea.” Hank mumbled through his tears. He pointed with his chin at Bonnie.

“Liar,” she hissed. “I don't want to listen to any of this nonsense. Come on, Robin. We're leaving.”

“Marilyn's the only one who's ever been decent to me,” Hank continued. “She gave me a job, she gave me books to read. Mr. Elgin, pal to the lost boys,” he jeered. “All you cared about was her,” he pointed to Bonnie. “You'd do anything she told you to.”

“You shouldn't say anything more till you get a lawyer,” Robin advised. “You don't want to get yourself into more trouble. You know what will happen to a boy like you in prison?”

Hank began to weep. “I thought you were my friend,” he cried.

“Oh, God,” Bonnie said in disgust.

“Bonnie,” Robin warned.

She shrugged. “What's the use? It's all going to come out. You might as well confess and get it over with. And let the kids and me go.” She stared hard at Robin.

“Me, confess?” He turned away from her.

She put her hand on his arm and leaned close to him. “You know my brother-in-law's a lawyer,” she said. “He'll help you get out of this. For my sake.”

“Roger Markham?” I almost laughed. “He's on Harold's side. Why would he help the two of you?”

“Because Harold would rather sell his soul than see the mother of his children in jail,” Bonnie said. “Besides, it's all Robin's doing. Not mine.”

Robin just looked at her.

Will shook his head. “I don't believe this,” he said. “What would Robin know about Indian artifacts? He's a social worker. You're the one who works at the museum.”

“Besides, Roger Markham isn't going to be much help to anyone, least of all himself,” Gianelli added. “He's under arrest, charged with embezzlement. His uncle turned him in. Seems things weren't quite right with the Baker papers, among others. That's why I was so interested in meeting him at the
house the day Mrs. Baker died. Mr. Markham has been a matter of some interest to me for a long while.”

“He was here this morning,” I said, remembering Hank's story of the argument that had precipitated Henry McDonnel's fatal heart attack.

“He was arrested in Barrie just before noon, apparently heading for the city and then the border,” Gianelli said. “I came up with Pete here to have a talk with Dr. Finch. He has some questions to ask her about her aunt's death and I want to know what hand she had in the paper work that Markham was arranging. They were close, those two, practically brother and sister, according to his wife.”