2

 

 

 

Alex Desocarras slipped out of bed just before his six o’clock alarm, careful not wake his wife, Gwen. She’d been up half the night, finishing a paper for one of her law classes. It was late fall, and the room was a little chilly. He pulled the covers up over her shoulders, gently, so as not to wake her, then moved quietly to the bathroom to take a shower. Once done, he headed to the kitchen in his bathrobe and started the coffee maker.

Their apartment was a character two-bedroom in The Maddox, an older building in Kitsilano, a Vancouver neighbourhood on the shore of English Bay. The building was a little on the shabby side, but neither of them minded. Modern wasn’t something either of them embraced wholeheartedly, and they would only be here for a few years, until Gwen finished her law degree. At least, that was their initial plan, but now they weren’t so sure. The city of Vancouver was growing on both of them.

The apartment was an easy commute for Gwen to get to the University of BC where she was enrolled at Allard Law School. And it was just as easy for Alex to get to his P.I. office in downtown Vancouver.

Gwen loved the building and was fascinated by the ancient, giant rhododendrons that sprawled across their front lawn. Alex was happiest with the kitchen—the tile counters and splashboards, a nook in the wall behind a small door, where milkmen of long ago used to leave the day’s supply, a pull-down ironing board that lived behind its own wall closet, and a pull-down repository big enough to hold fifty pounds of flour. They weren’t bakers, so they stored all manner of things in theirs.

Coffee done, Alex poured himself a mug, added cream, then settled into his favorite spot in the apartment, the built-in breakfast nook. He took a sip of coffee and gazed out the kitchen window at English Bay, a view he would never tire of.

A few ocean-going vessels were anchored off in the distance. He took up the binoculars he kept on the window sill for a closer look. He recognized the flag of China, but not the other two. A few sailboats already dotted the water. He settled on the one closest to shore, and just as he did so, the morning sun caught the billowing sails and set them ablaze with light.

Alex had quit the Royal Canadian Mounted Police last year, after fifteen years. He’d joined right out of university, part of a move by the RCMP to bring more Indigenous men and women into the ranks. But important changes the RCMP needed to reckon with were coming at a snail’s pace, or not at all.

The rampant sexism had been a constant embarrassment and he had often brought home stories that made Gwen livid. Then there was the racism.

There were fifteen hundred Indigenous officers in the RCMP in the many offices across Canada, a fair representation of Canada’s population. It was a start, but Alex didn’t need statistics to be aware that when it came to arrests and convictions, Indigenous men would top the charts by a huge margin—if anyone would bother to keep track of the stats—and that black men and Indigenous women wouldn’t be far behind.

What had kept Alex in the RCMP for as long as he had stayed, was the good people, men and women, that wanted things to change. His last partner—before he quit for good—was Eugene Monroe. Alex missed him, missed working with him, their friendship, their rapport, and the humour.

He knew that Eugene was not enjoying his latest posting in Kamloops. Alex suspected it had more to do with the RCMP than anything else. He’d invited him to Vancouver for the last long weekend, but ski season had just started, and Eugene was an avid skier. He’d promised to come down for a visit in a few weeks.

Alex was still watching the sailboat, which had tacked left, to better catch the wind, just as a bank of drifting clouds blocked the sun, shrouding the boat in grey.

And without warning, he was in that tiny cabin once again, listening to the shot ring out—the shot that killed Levon Starr, a young, unarmed, Indigenous man. Shot by another officer, his winter glove mistaken for a gun. Levon’s death was the tipping point for Alex.

The officer who killed him—adamant from the beginning that he wasn’t in the wrong and shouldn’t be charged—was not charged. This was no surprise to Alex, and he was once again enraged. But this time, he couldn’t button it down and bury it as he had been doing for years. The death of Levon Starr broke him, and he quit the Force.

Starr was a proud member of the redz, a secret Indigenous organization with links to other organizations worldwide. He had kept people connected and safe from prying eyes and ears online.

The redz invited Alex to join them a while after Starr’s death. Even Gwen didn’t know about that. It was the one thing he had kept from her in their more than ten years together. Well over a year had passed since he’d accepted their invitation, but it weighed on him and he knew he’d have to tell her. And sooner rather than later.

The excuse he gave himself was that he was waiting for the right moment. But once she knew, Alex didn’t doubt for a minute that she would want to be a part of the organization. And belonging to the redz involved a certain amount of risk, as Levon Starr’s death had demonstrated so clearly. Alex couldn’t bear the idea of Gwen being in a position where she would be at risk.

Alex gave himself a shake, quickly drained his coffee cup, and got up. He had a busy day ahead. Gwen wanted to get an early start today. He fixed a cup of coffee for her, then moved to the bedroom to wake her.

She was sitting up in bed, awake, but drowsy. She smiled as Alex handed her the coffee.

She took a sip.

“It’s perfect.”

Alex smiled.

“How’d you sleep, sweetheart?”

“I slept fine,” he said.

They both knew that he always slept better with Gwen beside him.

“How ’bout you? You were up half the night, weren’t you?”

“I was,” she said. “Did I disturb your sleep?”

“Not at all,” said Alex, lying smoothly.

“Liar.”

Alex smiled again.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.”

He’d been a university student himself once upon a time, and he knew there was no escaping the gruelling life being a student imposed. Although she did seem to be having the time of her life and getting excellent marks while at it.

Gwen watched Alex as he moved to the closet to get dressed, not without interest. Alex missed very little and he certainly didn’t miss that, but he pretended not to notice.

“I have a seminar this afternoon that I don’t want to miss.”

“Why don’t you grab a little more sleep? You must be tired.”

“It’s not till after lunch. Before you get dressed, you could come back to bed for a while and distract me. I think that would be a lot more fun than a few hours’ sleep.”

She put down her mug on the side table, patted the covers on his side of the bed and raised her eyebrows. There was no mistaking that look.

Gwen was the love of his life, and this was an offer impossible to resist, but teasing was in his DNA.

“It would certainly be my pleasure to distract you.” He smiled benignly. “But only if you think that it would be helpful.”

“Alex Desocarras, get over here!”

 

 

Almost an hour later, Gwen was asleep and Alex was leaving for his office, when Connie King texted, asking for a phone consult. Connie was chief of the Mystic Lake Band, part of Kaska Dena Council. He’d worked for her once before—a deep background check on a new employee, non-native, who would be handling sensitive information in aid of negotiations for the council. As it turned out, the guy was a good match for the work, and she was pleased.

He texted back, telling her to call. Repeat business was a good thing. Their good friend Jeri Fernice would approve.

Jeri had just hung up her own shingle, not far from him. Another ex-cop, like him, she’d worked for the Vancouver Police. She’d stayed there longer than she wanted to, out of necessity. Her partner, Jas, had taken leave of her job just before giving birth to a baby girl a few months back and Jeri wanted to be sure they were a well-established family unit before she left the VPD to fly solo. Jeri was good people, and he and Gwen were very fond of Jeri and Jas. Alex and Gwen were godparents to their new baby. He smiled thinking of their last visit.

“So, Alex,” she’d said, “you still taking cushy, high-paid assignments for the government?”

“Jeri, they were far from cushy and not that well-paying. It was just the once, and truthfully, such a pain in the ass. I am well and truly done with the whole chain of command thing. Anyway, I have clients I would prefer the gov knew nothing about.”

“Interesting…”

Alex had smiled, a little Cheshire-like.

“Seriously. That’s all you’re giving me?”

“That’s all I can give you, Jeri.”

“Okay. I guess I will end up with clients that would best be kept secret.”

“You can count on that …”

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone. It was Connie King.

“Alex, it’s so good to hear your voice!”

This was very unlike Connie, as she was always so formal with him. She had his attention.

“Hi, Connie. How are you?”

“Truthfully. Not so good. Not good at all, in fact. The police called me here last night about a woman who was reported missing last night. Her name’s Rose Barlow. And then they were back early this morning. They found her and my son Max, at a mine site outside Kamloops last night.”

“At a mine site. Who called the police?”

“Max’s girlfriend, Rose.”

“Are they okay, Connie?”

“Rose is in critical condition with a serious concussion. Max had been shot up with drugs and was nearly dead when they found him. The police had to administer naloxone. They’re both at Royal Inland Hospital in Kamloops.”

“Have you spoken with Max?

“Not yet and I’m worried sick.”

“I can understand that.”

I’ve never actually met Rose. Max has told me all about her. They’ve been dating for at quite a while now. I know that he is very fond of her. She’s not Indigenous, and he was worried that I might not approve. But Alex, why wouldn’t I approve. Love is love, right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Her father is Malcolm Barlow. He’s a Provincial judge.”

Alex knew the Judge and didn’t like him, or trust him. He kept that to himself.

“Rose has a roommate, another young woman. They graduated law school together. The roommate knew Rose was seeing Max, so when the police called her last night, she told them Rose was with Max this weekend. But they couldn’t reach Max, which is why they talked with me last night.”

“What did the police want to know?”

“Whether Rose and Max had any problems or whether Max has a history of violence! Alex, my son would never hurt anyone!”

Alex waited while Connie struggled to gain composure.

“Connie, when did you last speak with Max?”

“Almost a week ago. I mean that’s not unusual. I don’t know if I mentioned this to you before, but he’s a lawyer with a firm in Kamloops. They hired him right out of law school. Top of his class. Max is a very bright. He’s been with the firm a few years now, and he’s very busy. When Rose was reported missing, Meeta… she’s the roommate, Meeta Mitchell, she told the police that Rose didn’t return home after the weekend. I think she was expecting her Sunday, by early evening. They had plans to do something together in the evening. But when she texted Rose, she didn’t answer. She tried a few more times, and when Rose still didn’t respond, the roommate tried to reach Max, thinking her phone was dead, but she couldn’t reach him either.”

“This was last night?”

“Yes, and when she still hadn’t heard back late Sunday night, she called Rose’s parents. I think her mother’s name is Marilyn. Anyway, that’s when the judge reported Rose missing.”

“Yes. And I’m assuming you tried to report Max was missing.”

“I tried to, last night, but they said I had to wait twenty-four hours.”

“Hmm,” said Alex. “Who did you talk to at the detachment?”

“Just a sec… I’ve got his card right here… Constable McFarland.”

“And he came to your place last night?”

“He did, trying to get information on Max’s relationship with Rose. Then Ari Rosen, he’s an associate at Max’s law firm, called me. The police had been in touch about Rose and he was worried about Max. He couldn’t reach him.”

“Does Ari Rosen know that Max and Rose are at the hospital”

“He does now; I called him.”

“What do you want me to do, Connie?”

“I want you to go to Kamloops and find out what the hell is going on! If Rose hadn’t called 911, the constable told me Max would be dead. Maybe they’d both be dead. Someone tried to kill them, Alex!”

“I’ll need a recent picture of Max. And I’ll need a number for Ari Rosen. I’ll meet with him first.”

“I’ll text you Ari’s number. I don’t have the roommate’s number, but Ari might have it.”

“That’s okay. I can take it from here.”

“When can you start?”

“I’ll leave for Kamloops shortly. It’s probably faster to drive up than wait for a flight later this afternoon. I should be there by early afternoon.”

“Alex. I’m so scared.”

“I hear you, Connie. I’ll keep you posted, every step of the way.”

After disconnecting, he texted his ex-partner, Eugene Munroe, to let him know he’d be in Kamloops for a day or two and suggested they get together for a meal.

There was something important Alex wanted to speak with him about, something handled much better in person than with a phone call. Moments later, his phone dinged; Connie had texted a recent picture of Max—a nice looking guy, snazzy dresser. A second ding gave him Ari Rosen’s contact info.

Alex texted Rosen that he’d like to meet him in a few hours when he got to Kamloops. He didn’t want to wake Gwen who was still sleeping for sure, he thought with a smile. He texted her that he’d be out of town for at least a day, maybe two, and that he’d call her later in the evening. Rosen texted back; he’d be available any time after two pm.