SUNDAY, AUGUST 14
“How are you feeling today?” Lane looked around the hospital room. Amir, Saadiq, Katherine and Dylan were like statues taking up four corners in Keely’s room.
Keely rolled her eyes. “The doctor says I might get out today. He’s being cautious about swelling around the heart. Moreau was a good shot.” She shifted her weight and grimaced with pain. “But not quite good enough.”
Amir, Keely’s father, glared at Lane.
Saadiq, Keely’s brother, moved toward Lane and embraced the detective. “Thank you for making her wear her vest.”
“You did that?” Katherine, Keely’s mother, asked.
“He did,” Keely said.
Lane found himself at the centre of a group hug, communal weeping and even a kiss or three on his cheeks. He was left to wonder who was doing the kissing. When he was free and clear, he saw tears in Keely’s eyes. He looked at Katherine and the portly Amir and said. “Saadiq showed us where to look for Matt and Jessica. We wouldn’t have found them without your daughter and your son.”
“How are Matt and Jessica doing?” Dylan asked.
“They’re both downstairs being checked out. It’s a precaution. Someone turned Jessica’s motor on. She won’t stop talking or moving, and her mother and father won’t let her out of their sight. They’re getting plenty of exercise and can’t wipe the smiles off their faces. I’m afraid Erinn will go into labour if Jessica doesn’t slow down soon.” Lane reached into his pocket, pulled out a gift card and handed it to Keely.
“Thought you might want some new tunes to listen to while you’re recuperating.”
Keely took the certificate and smiled. “Think my old stuff is that bad?”
Lane shook his head. “No.”
Katherine said, “We’re going for dinner when she gets out. Would your family like to come?”
“Of course,” Lane said.
“What about Mary? What’s happened to her?” Keely asked.
“She’s thinking about selling her house and moving. And Simpson called. He wants the two of us to do her interview,”
Lane said.
“What happened out back of the women’s shelter? No one told me very much.” Keely sat up and winced.
Lane looked around the room.
Katherine said, “Come on, we’ve got to get something to eat while these two talk shop.”
The room emptied and the door closed.
Lane said, “Things were kind of tense in here.”
“You think?” Keely smiled. “At least everyone is in the same room. My dad is pissed off because I won’t be an obedient little girl. Nothing new there. Come on, tell me what happened.”
“According to Fibre’s initial findings, the deceased woman was killed by two shots from Moreau’s Smith and Wesson. Moreau died from massive hemorrhaging due to the wound inflicted by the shovel blade. Mary and her baby are fine. A woman named Rita — who volunteered at the shelter — has admitted to swinging the shovel. Rita and Mary are the people we need to interview. When would you like to do that?” Lane watched Keely cup her left breast as she coughed.
“How about tomorrow?” Keely asked.
“But you’re not even out of the hospital yet,” Lane said.
Keely glared at him. “I’m not going to spend another day like today with those four watching over me. I feel like I’ve just been kicked out of Sunday school again by the Imam.”
“You got kicked out of Sunday school?” Lane asked.
“More than once,” Keely said.
“How come?”
“I asked too many questions. I have been a constant source of embarrassment to my father.” Keely swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Hand me that housecoat, will you?”
“Are you supposed to get up?” Lane handed her the robe.
Keely shrugged. “I’m tired of doing what I’m told. Besides, I want to see that Matt and Jessica are fine. You’re taking me down to visit them.” She smiled as he held the robe open for her. “How bad is my hair?” She breathed into her fist. “And my breath?”
“I’ll keep away,” Lane said.
“And I have to talk with you. My RCMP boss says my time with the city police is up. They want me to transfer to Central Canada. It seems that female officers who speak Arabic are in demand.” She waited for Lane to reply.
“I don’t know what to say.” Lane helped her into the robe. I feel like I’ve been punched in the belly.
“Besides, it would be good for Dylan and me to live away from my father.”
Lane frowned and looked to see that the door was closed. “You’re probably right about that.”