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Cranbrook, October 31
8:30 p.m.
“Hey, little man.”
“Hi, Dad!” Brian’s voice beamed over the line. “When are you coming home?”
“Soon,” Allan said. “Hopefully this week.”
“Did you catch the bad guy?”
“Not yet, but I think we’re closing in on him.”
“Cool.”
Allan smiled into the phone. “Did you get lots of candy tonight?”
“Yeah. I just got home a little while ago.”
“Who’d you go as?”
“Iron Man.”
“I thought so. Did your mother take a picture?”
“Yup.”
“Good. I’ll see it when I get home. Did your friends go with you?”
“Um...Billy and Jamie did.”
“Who’d they dress up as?”
“Billy went as Batman, and Jamie went as Robin.”
“Three little superheroes,” Allan said. “Nice.”
“Billy’s dad went around with us. But it got really foggy out, so we came home early.”
“Aww, that’s too bad.”
“I know. It’s always foggy here.”
“It’s because we live right on the coast.”
“Oh, Dad,” Brian said. “Mom wants to talk to you.”
“Okay, little man. Make sure you don’t eat too much candy before bed.”
“Um...I won’t.”
Allan could hear the smile in Brian’s voice. “Good night, son.”
“Night, Dad.”
Melissa came on the line. “Hi, Al.”
“Hey, sweetheart. How’s everything going?”
“Great,” she said. “You coming home soon?”
“I think so. Just not sure when. We’re flying to Ontario in the morning.”
“Oh?”
“We’re chasing down a lead there.”
“That’s good, right?”
Allan sighed. “Yeah, it is.”
Melissa paused. “You sound troubled. You all right?”
“Just tired, I think. It’s been nonstop since I came out here.”
“When’s your flight leave tomorrow?”
“Ten fifteen. It’s the earliest one we could get. We fly out to Calgary then connect with another flight for Toronto. Once we land there, we’re going to drive over to Burlington.”
“You have a busy day ahead,” Melissa said.
“Oh, yes,” Allan said. “I’ll be hitting the hay early tonight.”
“Then I better let you go, Al. I have to get the munchkin ready for school tomorrow. Get your rest.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Good night.”
“Good night. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
As Allan hung up, he lay back on the hotel bed and shut his eyes. He put a hand over his stomach, feeling the ugly butterflies there again. Without warning, his brain flashed a memory.
Groggy and dazed, Allan crawled to the edge of the alley. He rolled onto his back and half-sat against the brick wall of the warehouse. It hurt to breathe. He was sure some of his ribs were broken.
On the other side of the alley, Lee Higgins jumped in the air, shouting excitedly, “Stanton’s got some fight in him.”
Then he began ducking and weaving and throwing his fists out in front of him like a boxer.
“How’s your jaw, Talon?” Higgins laughed. “Did he break it?”
Talon picked up the pistol and spat. “That motherfucker.”
“You want the honors, man?”
“Gladly.”
Talon walked forward. Helpless, Allan watched the black hole of the muzzle rising to his face. A sudden blast ripped through the alley, and Allan’s entire body jolted. In awe and horror, he saw Talon’s head disappear in a red plume, his feet flying out from under him and his body hitting the ground with a sickening wet thud.
Opening his eyes, Allan blew out a few short breaths. He sat up on the bed, his heart racing.
“Jesus,” he said. “Jesus Christ.”
There was no stopping them. The flashbacks came and went as they pleased, suddenly and unexpectedly.
He got up and crossed the floor to the window. For a time, he watched the steady traffic on the highway outside. His muscles were tense, shaky.
A soft tap on the door startled him.
Pausing a brief moment to compose himself, Allan went to answer.
Denis stood in the doorway.
He said, “Did I disturb you?”
Allan shook his head. “Not at all. C’mon in. What’s up?”
Denis groaned. “I just spent the last hour calling all the hotels in Huntsville.”
Allan sat on the edge of the bed. “And?”
“A Jacob Stark stayed at the Huntsville Inn for three nights last year when Li Chen was murdered. He arrived two days before the murder. Left the day after.”
“What about Hailey Pringle? Was Stark there at that time?”
Denis took a seat on the sofa and slumped forward. “None of the hotels has any record of him.”
For a moment, Allan watched him stare at the floor, wringing his hands.
“Have you prepared yourself?” he asked. “In case Stark had nothing to do with her murder?”
Denis winced. “I have. But it’s hard, you know. Hailey’s mother will be calling me this coming Friday to see if there’s any new information.” His eyes became sad, distant. “I was hoping I’d have something to tell her.”
Allan could see part of himself in Denis. Over a detective’s career there always seemed to be one case that ate away at your brain, one you couldn’t psychologically step away from. Denis had Hailey Pringle; Allan had Mary Driscow.
“You never thought Hailey Pringle’s murder was related to Li Chen’s,” Denis said. “I don’t think Detective Price believed it either.”
Allan shrugged. “The crime-scene characteristics didn’t add up for me.”
Denis looked over at him. “This Jacob Stark certainly seems like the suspect.”
Allan agreed. “He’s looking more and more like it. Detective Price found out he had stayed at the Halifax Marriott during his two visits. That puts him right in the city for both crimes.”
“You have enough grounds to obtain your DNA warrant.”
Allan nodded. “That’ll tell us if Stark is guilty. Or if we’re back to square one.”
“We still haven’t had the professionals compare the weave patterns in the ligature marks.”
“That is true. We got too busy with all of this.”
“Then there are all those other cases we looked into. We have to determine if Stark was in those areas as well.”
“We’ll pass on the information to those jurisdictions,” Allan said. “Let them take care of their end.”
Exhaling a breath, Denis stood up.
“Say,” he said. “How about joining me in the lounge downstairs for a stiff drink?”
Allan gave him a weak smile. “Sure. I could use one right now. Or two.”
