“Well, that was odd.” Kala lowered her phone and caught up to Gundersund.
“What’s odd?”
“Rouleau hung up on me. I guess he had something urgent going on. I didn’t get to tell him about the graffiti all over Jane’s apartment walls and door and the spilled coffee in her bedroom.”
“Both disturbing as hell. If it was Eton that the kids saw leaving with her, he could have taken her to his house. Nobody else is there.”
“We don’t have many other choices.”
They got into Gundersund’s car and he drove down Regent, cutting across the city and making good time on the side streets. Kala’s phone rang as they pulled onto Beverly. “Woodhouse,” she mouthed to Gundersund as she clicked on receive. “Yeah, Woodhouse. Find something interesting?”
She listened without interrupting and sat for a moment gathering her thoughts after she disconnected. Gundersund glanced over at her. “What’s going on?”
“He tried calling Rouleau but no answer so we were the next best thing. He’s over at the Limestone Spa Hotel. The manager called him in to look at video footage from the day Devon went missing. They have a camera on the back locked door, and he had a member of his staff go through the footage for the entire day on a hunch. They found a few frames that show Devon letting Charlie and a blond girl into the hotel. Woodhouse is quite sure it’s Sophie Eton. Time on the tape is four forty that afternoon.”
“As I recall, Sophie said that she never met up with Devon that day. She waited in the park but he didn’t show.”
“She obviously lied.” Kala thought back to the day she interviewed Sophie and pictured the mother and daughter sitting side by side on the couch across from her. “Her mother was in on the lie. I remember having this sense at the time that she’d coached Sophie about what to say.”
“What do you think it means?”
“Devon and Charlie were up to something and Charlie is still keeping it a secret.” She thought about Sophie trying to kill herself over her brother’s death and didn’t like how the pieces were fitting. “We need to speak with Charlie again.”
“I agree. After we check out the Etons’, we can swing past Charlie’s place.” Gundersund pulled into the Eton driveway, turned off the engine, and leaned on the steering wheel. He looked at her and said, “Mitchell’s car isn’t here but it could be in the garage. We’d better be ready for anything.”
She gave a half-grin. “My gun is loaded and my trigger finger is sharpened.”
He smiled back. “Good. Hopefully, this will go smoothly and you won’t need to shoot anybody.”
They tried ringing the doorbell, stepping back with their handguns at their sides. Gundersund banged on the door but there was no movement or noise from within. They went in different directions and circled the house, checking windows and looking for signs of life, meeting up again on the front lawn.
“He didn’t bring her here,” said Gundersund.
Kala pulled out her phone. “I’ll try Rouleau again.” She moved into a circle of sunshine while she waited for him to answer, briefly enjoying the fall warmth and the absence of rain clouds. Her call went to Rouleau’s voice mail and she left a message for him to call her back. She joined Gundersund in the driveway. He was standing with his back to the road, watching the Eton house. She said, “Rouleau’s not answering. What now?”
“We could head over to Mitchell’s work. A long shot, but worth a try. Then, we can pay Charlie that visit.”
She agreed because she couldn’t come up with a better idea. “I’m not liking this, Gundersund. All of this uncertainty about what Eton is doing with Jane is giving me a bad feeling.”
“I’ve got the same feeling.” He rubbed the scar on his cheek as he walked toward his car. “Try Rouleau again in a few minutes and let’s hope he answers. We might need to get everybody involved looking for Mitchell and Jane if this goes on much longer.”
“What would you like for lunch?” Katie Bruster asked, rubbing her belly as she stood in the doorway to Ivan’s home office. She felt like a blow-up doll that had been filled to capacity and would soon burst. One more week before delivering this big baby from its cocoon inside her and the day couldn’t come soon enough. Fatigue was her constant companion and she was having more and more trouble hiding her grumpiness from Ivan and Kyle, although she had to admit that neither her husband nor son appeared fazed by her sharp words.
“Just a ham sandwich is fine, babe.” Ivan was working on his computer and barely glanced at her. She stood waiting until he looked up from the screen and smiled at her. “Sorry, I was working on a file. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is great. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your sandwich, unless you’d like to join me in the kitchen to eat?”
He ran a hand through his mess of brown hair, the hair that she’d run her own hands through the night before in bed. “I’d love to but need to get this work done before the next little Bruster appears on the scene. I’ll be taking a few weeks off and don’t want to have to worry about loose ends.”
“I understand.” She walked back to the kitchen, catching sight of herself in the full-length mirror as she passed by it in the hall. Was she heavier than the day before or was it her imagination? Her ankles were swollen and her legs ached but she wasn’t complaining. She’d had a healthy pregnancy and would soon have a lovely baby. Hopefully, a daughter to complete their millionaire family. She really wanted a little girl.
She got the ham, lettuce, and mustard out of the fridge and made two sandwiches. She poured herself a glass of milk and opened a beer for Ivan. He allowed himself one at lunchtime and nothing more until he finished work for the day, usually after seven when she called him for supper.
She returned to his office and set the sandwich and beer on his desk next to his computer.
“Thanks, babe,” he said, catching her hand for a moment in his. “Kyle taking a nap?”
“He is, and I’m going to stretch out on the bed for a snooze after I eat.”
“I wish I could join you.” He smiled and she bent and kissed his mouth.
She’d eaten half her sandwich when the doorbell rang. She heaved herself out of the kitchen chair and walked toward the front door, making out the shapes of two adult figures on the other side of the beveled glass. Please not those Jehovah’s Witnesses again trying to convert me, she thought. She opened the door a crack and looked out, taking a few seconds to recognize Mitchell Eton. She didn’t know the woman with him. She pulled the door open wider.
“Mitchell, was Ivan expecting you today? He never said.”
“No, this is a surprise visit.”
“Well, come in.” She held out her hand to the woman. “I’m Katie, Ivan’s wife.”
The woman looked from her to Mitchell and he nodded. The woman held out her hand. “I’m Jane.”
She gripped Katie’s hand with such force that she was momentarily taken aback. Katie thought she saw a warning in eyes so clear and beautiful that she had trouble looking away. A sense of inadequacy filled her as it did every time she met someone this striking, but she stifled the feeling. She had grown a lot since marrying Ivan and becoming a mother. She knew looks weren’t important when it came to happiness … well, not as important as she’d believed in high school and college. Mitchell cleared his throat and prodded the woman to walk ahead of him into the house. He shut the door and shot the deadbolt into place behind him. “Why don’t you lead us into Ivan’s office, Katie,” he said.
She didn’t like the tone he was using but didn’t say anything. She looked from him to the door. Why had he locked it? “I was just eating my lunch at the table. Maybe I could make some coffee while you go speak to Ivan.” She took a step in the direction of the kitchen.
“I’d rather you take us to Ivan,” Mitchell said.
Katie half-turned and looked into Jane’s eyes. She knew she wasn’t misreading the situation. Something was wrong. “Okay,” she said.
She and Jane led the way down the hall. Before they reached Ivan’s office, he called out, “Who was at the door, babe?”
“I was,” Mitchell said. “Take the two seats, ladies.” He raised the handgun he’d been holding behind Jane’s back and pointed it at Ivan, who was sitting pressed back against his chair.
“I only see one chair,” said Katie.
“You take it,” said Jane. “I can stand.”
“No, Ivan will stand. You take his chair,” said Mitchell.
Ivan got up, his hands raised waist level, palms out. “What’s all this about then, Mitchell? What are you doing here?”
Katie looked from her husband to Mitchell and something passed between the two men that made her hold both hands over her stomach. A spasm of pain made her gasp. She’d never met Mitchell’s wife but she was beginning to think that Jane might be her. Was she about to find out that Ivan had been unfaithful with Mitchell’s wife? The crazy idea made her want to giggle, and she knew this was the typical way she dealt with stress. She tried to breathe deeply like she’d been taught for her upcoming labour. The woman stared at her from across the desk with concerned eyes.
“You know why I’m here, don’t you Ivan?” Mitchell asked.
“Can’t we let the women go into the kitchen while we talk?”
“I don’t think so. Your wife will want to know what you’ve been up to.”
Ivan’s eyes reddened and he looked as rattled as Katie had ever seen him. He was usually so self-assured and domineering that she knew her world was about to be rocked. Jane, in contrast, looked resigned and calm, as if she’d seen her fate and was okay with it. “Tell me, Ivan,” Katie said. “Have you done something the kids and I should know about?”
Ivan seemed to get a second wind. He glared at Mitchell. “My company has done a lot of business with yours. If you want our good relationship to continue, tell my wife that you’ve made a mistake coming here. We can work out our differences in private once everyone has settled down.”
Mitchell looked at the gun he was holding and back up at Ivan. “My daughter tried to take her own life last night because of what you did to her. My son was murdered because of that woman sitting there in your desk chair. You think I really care about our damn business relationship?”
Ivan’s eyes found Katie’s. They appeared to be begging for understanding and she felt her insides go cold. “Tell me, Ivan,” she said.
“Tell her what you did if you don’t want me to shoot your wife right now,” said Mitchell.
“This is insane. You can’t just waltz in here and threaten my family.” Ivan took a step toward Mitchell but raised his hands and backed up when Mitchell pointed the gun at him.
“Tell her,” said Mitchell. His voice rose to a shout. “Tell her now!”
“Okay, okay, okay.” Ivan looked at Katie with a pleading look on his face. “I paid to have sex with his daughter. Her brother, Devon, set it up. I’m so sorry, baby. It just … it just happened. If I could take it back, I would. It was wrong and I was crazy out of my mind to do it and you have every right to hate me. It was only the one time and I’ve regretted it ever since. I love you more than anything. You’ve got to believe me. Please, baby.”
Another stab of pain filled Katie’s belly. She could see Ivan’s mouth moving but stopped hearing him after he said he’d had sex with Mitchell’s daughter. Her mind turned sluggishly as she struggled to remember a conversation she’d had with Mitchell the summer before. He had one daughter named Sophie — yes, she was sure he said only one daughter — and she was starting grade eight. Ivan had paid for sex with a child. The pain in her stomach had moved up to her chest. Surely, this was what it felt like to die, to feel as if the entire world had stopped spinning and she was about to free-fall into outer space. She cried out and black, fuzzy spots filled her eyes. Jane called to her and Katie turned her face toward the sound of her voice. Like a magnet pulling her back, she looked into Jane’s mesmerizing blue eyes.
“Don’t think about it now,” Jane said. “Slow, deep breaths. You can get through this, Katie.”
“Shut up,” said Mitchell. “Just shut up.” The gun in his hand was shaking and tears were running down his cheeks. He doubled over, but kept the gun wavering in the air. “How could you have done this to my child? My beautiful girl. I thought we were friends.”
“I’m sorry,” said Ivan. “I’m sorry.”
Mitchell straightened. “Sorry isn’t good enough.” He levelled the gun and shot Ivan Bruster two times in the chest.