Along with the other items in the attaché case, Fenn had also discovered the Challenger’s distributor rotor. He’d slipped that into his jacket before handing the bag to the police. It was the one item a smart detective could have used to connect Fenn to Jenner and the cash. Fenn had also made out like the car’s smashed side window had been broken for a while. He’d temporarily covered it with a clear plastic sheet and duct tape.
As they skirted Toronto and headed north, he and Asha discussed how the press coverage had focused more on Ex-Detective Rowan’s criminal connections than on the good work of the officers who’d successfully closed the case. Fenn had avoided much of that ballyhoo by quietly packing his cat and few belongings off to his new digs in Muriel Stafford’s basement.
He’d spent little time ruminating about his work situation—a subject that neither he nor Asha chose to broach. Fenn drove for about an hour then exited the highway and pulled into a gas station.
“This is the place where I talked to you until the cell phone died,” he said. “I didn’t know what you had heard and what you hadn’t.”
Asha smiled. “I think I caught it all, except maybe the last bit. What was it you said?”
Fenn pretended to think about it.
“I might have said I’d fallen in love with you.”
The smile widened. “Actually I did catch that. It’s just nice to hear you finally say it.”
He’d already informed Asha of their destination, and as they turned onto Little Chute Road they saw the burnt remains of flares where the roadblock had been. He pointed out The Retreat’s wrought iron gates then parked in the same lay-by as last time.
“And here’s where we enter the woods.”
It was a great day for a hike. They saw a deer, and since Fenn had travelled the route once before they were soon gazing upon Harrowport’s million-dollar cottage from the edge of the forest. Fenn pointed out a red Mercedes sports car parked near the front steps, and the strips of yellow police tape hanging from the doorway to the foyer.
“Someone is home but I don’t think we’ll stop in.”
Hand in hand they backtracked to the junction and followed the trail that went to the gorge. The motocross bike was gone from the gully but on the section of trail where the ATV had intercepted him and Kim there were still bloodstains in the dirt.
“Abes shot Rowan, and then he got shot by Jenner,” Fenn explained.
“Was that before or after Jenner tried to club you to death.” Asha gingerly touched the yellowed bruise on his cheek.
“After. The best bit is down here, though.” He led her to the warming hut.
Asha peered inside and said, “Explain again how you came to be wearing Kim’s kilt.”
“Nothing happened. Honest Injun. Come this way, we’re going to take the path to the beach.”
Fenn didn’t expect to see the ATV still in the river but there it was. This was also the spot where he’d nearly been shot by one of Canada’s best marksmen.
“If I’d known he was up there I wouldn’t even have picked up the shotgun. There was a bang and I hit the deck.”
“Those guys don’t miss. How did you survive?”
“He didn’t fire. The gunshot was from his partner. Abes heard the radio chatter and tried to call the sniper off. Now, depending on whom you talk to, there was either too much noise from the helicopter, or the chopper was interfering with the radio signal, or the sniper’s earpiece had dropped out. Anyway, he didn’t get the message to stand down so his partner ran up the hill and let off a round to get his attention. Poor Kim thought I’d been killed.”
Asha kissed him. “You are lucky to be alive, Chas Fenn.”
They continued on to the portage path and came to the narrow beach past the rapids. Here, the forest came almost to the water’s edge. Something scurried through the shrubbery. They walked another thirty yards then Fenn dropped his pack on the beach.
“Wait here a moment. I just have to nip into the bushes.” He was gone nearly a minute before re-emerging with a bundle of tartan cloth.
He was going to say, 'Check this out.' What he said was, “Oh.”
Standing behind Asha with his left hand over her mouth and his right hand holding a curved blade to her throat was a large man. He wore a balaclava that revealed only his eyes and a camouflage suit that was newly purchased if the starched creases were anything to go by. He’d probably bought that very shiny, very sharp, hunting knife at the same time.
“Hello, Jenner.”
“How’d you know it was me?”
Fenn shrugged. “What are the odds? Besides, your new anklet gave it away.”
“Then you know why I’m here. Hand over the kilt.”
“It’s just a kilt.”
“So, why did you leave it in the woods?”
“I didn’t want Kim to know I’d ruined it—do you know what she’s like? What am I saying, of course you do, she kept getting unkidnapped.”
“Cut the crap, Fenn. Where’s the cash?”
“You went through those rapids just like I did, Ronald. Where the hell do you think the cash is?”
“I think it’s wrapped in that kilt. Now hand it over.” Jenner put pressure on the blade at Asha’s throat. It nicked the skin. She tensed and a drop of blood appeared at the cut. Fenn could see how this was going to end and slowly shook his head.
“Alright. Have it your way.”
He tossed the kilt but before it hit the ground, Asha had grabbed Jenner’s wrist and twisted under his arm. She thrust the knife hand up, dislocating his shoulder with a sickening pop. Jenner bent forward, his cry of agony muffled by her knee smashing into his nose. The knife fell from his fingers. Asha rose up on her toes then brought her elbow crashing down on the base of his skull, just behind the earlobe. Jenner dropped face first to the ground and lay still.
Asha retrieved the knife and kneeling on Jenner’s back nicked his throat to precisely match her own cut.
“Now we’re even, Creep.”
Fenn simply smiled. “I guess he came to DriveCheck sometime after you’d won the Provincial Martial Arts Championship.”
“Yeah. Somehow I never got around to mentioning that.”
“How long do you think he’ll be out for?”
Asha shrugged. “Until he wakes up.”
After tending to her cut, Fenn propped Jenner’s inert form against a tree. They used his bootlaces to secure his hands behind the trunk, and his ankles together, and then swiveled the balaclava to blindfold him. Blood dripped from his crushed nose and ran past the nick on his neck.
“Do you think he came out here by himself, Chas?”
“That red Mercedes we saw probably belongs to Harrowport’s wife. I still don’t get that connection but he either borrowed the car or she drove him up here. From what I’ve heard about Marjorie Dynes-Harrowport, though, I doubt she’ll risk breaking a heel searching the woods for this guy.”
Fenn stuck the hunting knife in the ground out of Jenner’s reach.
“If the cops don’t pick up the signal from his monitor, we’ll call in an anonymous tip.” He pulled Asha to him and kissed her. “You were great. Now where were we?”
“Well, you were in the bushes.”
“So I was.” He went back in. “What I said about Kim being pissed off was partly true, but I also left the kilt for a marker. I didn’t want to leave my jacket because it was off-white and too obvious.” He re-emerged and handed Asha a partially-filled plastic bag. She reached in and pulled out a damp bundle of hundred dollar bills.
“Is this what I think it is?”
Fenn nodded.
“How much is in here?” Her voice now a whisper.
“Over two-hundred large,” he whispered back with a grin.
“I feel like an outlaw. It’s kind of exciting.”
“It’s off the books, and it’s all ours. So, Miss Fabiani, what does the lady think about a Caribbean wedding?”
“A Caribbean wedding? Why, mercy, Mr. Fenn. This gal hasn’t even heard a proposal, yet.”
“A proposal. Yes. Right. Wait here.” Fenn went to his backpack. When he returned he looked steadily into her dark eyes for a moment, then went down on one knee and opened a small box.
“Miss Fabiani, would you do me the extreme honour of becoming my wife?”
He watched her lips part and her eyes start to moisten.
“Oh, my. That is the most beautiful ring.” She took the box for a closer look. “Mr. Fenn, I will marry you on one condition.”
“Condition? I thought love was supposed to be unconditional.”
“My love is, but my wedding is not.” She gave him a coy look.
“All right. What is your condition?”
Asha picked up the kilt and held it out. “You have to wear this.”
His look of dismay made her laugh out loud.
“Tell me you’re kidding. C’mon, Asha. Surely you don’t mean that.”
She slipped on the ring and made it sparkle in the sun.
“Oh, but I do, Mr. Fenn. I most certainly do.”