Chapter Fifteen

The low-rise building that housed the small RCMP force flew the distinctive red and white Canadian maple leaf flag out front. The proud standard waved softly in the fresh breeze drifting in off the lake our town was named after. The flag stood atop a tall pole that was surrounded by a flowerbed of well-attended matching petunias, courtesy of the town’s Hospital Guild ladies. My granny always insisted on leaving flowers at the base whenever an officer in Canada was killed in the line of duty. The thought came back to haunt me now. Suddenly, it was personal. I was beginning to know one annoying constable a bit too well.

I parked my trusty friend along the curved driveway, leaving room for other vehicles to get by. As I’d never been to the police station for anything formal, just Officer Appreciation Day each spring, knots began to test intricate new designs in my stomach. Why did I feel guilty when I had nothing to be guilty about? Cops probably counted on that instinctive response. Right?

Christine didn’t jump out straightaway either. She paused with her hand on the door handle. I pasted a smile on my face, announcing unnecessarily, “Okay. We’re here. You want to take lead?”

“Ah, sure. I just need someone to have my back.”

“Okay, we go on three. One, two, three…”

We both moved in unison, closing Thor’s doors with extra-loud bangs. I winced, asking his forgiveness.

“Lovely weather we’re having,” I said. I envisioned a treat of fresh-made brownies at the end of the impending interview to make my feet move quicker. The way my breath was hitching in my chest, I just might need Tulip’s asthma inhaler before this day ended.

I opened the front door for Christine. “Go ahead.”

She did, but stopped so short I ran into the back of her. She’d nearly collided with Captain Winn Duffy, on his way out.

“Christine, sorry, I almost ran you down there.” He noted me lurking behind her. “Charm, what can I do for you lovely ladies?”

“I’ve come about Mrs. Hurst. I have some information that Charm thinks is important to Constable Collins’ investigation. Could we see him, please?”

The rather ordinary-looking middle-aged man with the salt-and-pepper brush cut pursed his lips, his dark eyes gleaming with intelligence. A big man with a slight belly that rode his black belt, he was a no-nonsense cop by reputation. His expression remained cordial as he gave us an appraisal.

“Constable Collins is at his desk.” He turned his hefty body half-around. “Delores,” he shouted out. “Take care of these young ladies. They want to see our new Mountie, just like all the others. Apparently, I’m the old hat around here, even if I do have my own southern roots.”

He turned back to address us. “Delores will help you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I’m headed out.”

We scrambled out of the way. I led the way over to the dispatcher’s desk, Christine trailing me.

“You here to see our new Mountie too, eh? Been quite a crime spree going on in Snowy Lake yesterday and today, besides the obvious.” Her expression turned momentarily serious at the mention of the murders before she resumed. “Everything from dog nappings to neighbour parking disputes.” Delores’s expression could not have been smugger. A woman of a certain age, she’d been in her job for as long as I could remember. A motherly type, she virtually ran the detachment, like all strong women do. Her dyed brown hair was sprayed into a helmet, her makeup flattering. She was an easy woman to like. “And I’ll be asking after your Granny as well. She holding out all right with all this ruckus about?”

“She’s fine. Thanks for asking. I sent her with Auntie T.J. to visit her sister in Winterville yesterday. But we’re expecting her back sometime today or tomorrow.”

Delores nodded approval. “Best she stays away until these murders are solved. Gives me the willies, thinking such things can happen here. Winn’s even talking about starting a Neighborhood Watch program. The Bear Clan that set up in Winnipeg a few years ago to patrol the streets to keep that city safer has even offered their help and expertise.”

“That’s good to hear.” I added my approval.

“I’m here to tell some things I know about the murders.” Christine finally found her voice, stepping forward.

Delores’ eyes rounded and she nodded. “Stay here.” She took off at a fair clip and shouted from the back of the detachment fifteen seconds later.

“Come on down. The constable will see you now.”

We followed her voice, passing her in the hallway as she bustled to her desk in reception.

I gestured for Christine to lead the way into the office, finding my feet reluctant to take the final last steps. This was a little too official.

Constable Ace Collins sat behind a desk strewn with loose sheaves of paper and baskets of homemade goodies. As we came through the doorway, he was busy making piles. Were they all the complaints he’d been subject to for the past two days? Got to hand it to the women of Snowy Lake. They know how to throw a welcome party.

“Please, sit down.” He gestured at the chairs in front of his desk, tucking enough of the paper away into folders and trays and setting the baking aside to make his desk somewhat presentable.

“So, what can I do for you?” He looked awesome sitting behind the desk, big and in charge. His presence fueled the room with enough electrical current that I half-expected to see the sparks flare into fireworks at any second.

“Christine has some things she wants to share with you about Mrs. Hurst and the day she died.”

“Okay.” He sat forward, leaned his elbows on the top of the wooden desk and tented his large hands. “I’m listening.”

He gave Christine his undivided attention while she spilled her story, only asking relevant questions when the facts weren’t clear.

“And now I’m scared, Constable. Am I in trouble?”

“It would have been better if you had come forward sooner, but since you’ve had a change of heart and are wanting justice done for the victims, we may be able to overlook the obstruction of justice considerations.”

Christine fidgeted in her chair, which had to be as uncomfortable as mine. I swear they had cut the legs down lower on our chairs, the way the new Mountie loomed over us. Nah, that was just something rumored to happen on talk shows where the hosts had pumpkin-sized egos.

“Did you see Boyd the night he was murdered?” he asked.

“No, not at all.” She shook her head so emphatically her mahogany curls swung and swiped me across the chin. I leaned sideways to get out of the line of fire, casually pulling a strand of loose hair from the corner of my mouth and letting it drift to the floor.

“The blackmail angle is important. I’ll need to go through all her bank records and check.”

My stomach somersaulted and landed somewhere out in the lake a quarter mile away. Well, if confession was good for my new friend… Maybe Ace wouldn’t throw my butt in jail. Yeah, right. And Ling Ling can’t spell.

“Ah, is there any leeway for some amnesty for me too if I make a confession? Or maybe a pardon later, after things calm down and cooler heads prevail?”

Ace swung his penetrating stare my way. “Go ahead, Miss McCall. Shoot.”

I felt like a butterfly pinned in place. Christine reached over and took my hand. The gesture caught me unprepared and a tear actually escaped. I looked down at my lap, finding a piece of fuzz on my jeans of extreme interest. I added it to the bright hair on the floor.

“I have Mrs. Hurst’s banking records for the past year.”

Silence.

I risked a peek through lowered lashes. Oh boy. He was livid, his skin stippled in shades of varying shades of red. I admired his control as he pressed his lips firmly together, lips that I had enjoyed kissing less than twenty-four hours ago.

“I want those records on my desk. Today. Understood?”

“Yes, they will be.”

His desk phone buzzed and, with a second glare in my direction, he answered it. “Constable Collins here. How may I help you?”

I nudged Christine, giving her a nod at the escape hatch, the open doorway. She gave a quick thumbs-up and we got to our feet in tandem.

Ace put his hand over the receiver. “Thank you, Christine, for coming forward.” What? No thanks for me? “And I’ll be expecting those stolen documents from you, Charm, within the hour.”

My eyes narrowed at the offensive word, wanting to debate it hotly since I’d planned to return the records, but instead I let Christine propel me out of the room.

I stormed down the hallway, my boots ringing satisfyingly on the tiled black and white floor. I gave Delores a pasted-on smile to offset my apparent rush and made it out to Thor in record time. Christine got in the other side and leaned back in the seat.

“I think that went well.”

“Yeah, really great. I got called a thief.” I could barely get the word out, my chest walls squeezing in from all sides. Can someone get asthma all of a sudden? Or maybe this is what a panic attack feels like? Or do I have heart problems?

“Oh, I don’t think he was all that serious about it, Charm. He’s a very nice lawman.”

“Phttt, yeah, right,” I muttered under my breath, feeling put upon. “About as serious as a heart attack. He’s got it in for me, I tell you. You know he was going to give me a ticket for doing a U-turn on Main Street? Can you believe that?”

“I think he likes you. He didn’t actually give you a ticket, right?”

“Not the point. He stopped me, and I had to bribe him.”

“Oh really, with what? A lot of women in town would like that secret.”

“Dinner, what else?”

“Good one. What are you cooking?”

“Aw, well, he’s bringing the steaks and wine,” I admitted. “Guess I’m to make some sides as my contribution.”

“Oh, Charm, the guy’s got it bad for you!” Christine laughed out loud, not helping my mood at all. “Well, you’d best get me home. You have an errand to run, remember?”

“Yeah, and a murder to solve.” I gave a deep sigh.

She nodded sagely, not looking at all like the old Christine. I had to admit, I liked her far better now. Maybe some day I’d be able to help her too.

I dropped her off at home few minutes later, then set my sights on getting back to my suite to retrieve the folder. The clock was once more blasting away in my head. Tick tock. Tick tock.

I pulled in behind the café and leaped from Thor’s front seat, intent on my mission. I missed seeing Mrs. Smith in the alley until she was planted right square in front of me.

“I need your help! It’s my daughter. She’s in town and has lost her engagement ring, of all things. Do you think you could give her a reading right now? Help her locate it?” The words tumbled out of the woman, highly unusual for someone who prided herself on her composure. And it was beyond weird to accost me in the alley.

“Uh, I have something really important I’m supposed to do. Could this wait a bit?” I ventured. An image of Ace at his desk, mad as a buck about to stomp a competitor, drove me forward.

“Please, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” she begged. “I’ll pay you double your usual fee if you’ll do it right away. Everyone is just so upset by this. Her fiancé just can’t know. He’s such a catch too.” She lowered her voice and added in a conspiratorial tone, “One of the Davidsons. She did so well by herself and then this has to happen.” Our Mrs. Smith was fine after all—perfectly self-absorbed as usual, if I didn’t take into account the harried look in her eyes. “Alison’s already inside speaking with your granny. I just wanted to touch base with you and tell you how very important this is to our family. We can’t have a whiff of this getting back to the Davidsons. My goodness.” The woman shook her head. “Could you just imagine the scandal?”

Not really, but the woman was being sincere in her own way. But oh shoot, Granny was back. And the murderer was still on the loose.