Critical Impact (4 page)

“I also brought some of your things from the bomb site.”

Her eyes watered when she looked at the ash-covered handbag filled with stage makeup. The photograph book was charred and the cover was bent. She looked through the bag. “My wallet's not here,” she said.

“That's all we found at the site,” said Stu. “Are you up for any more questions?”

“Okay. But where's my wallet?”

“I'm not sure,” he said. “If they find it, I'll let you know. They're still working out there in the site. They haven't recovered there yet. I'll bring it to you when they find it.”

“Thank you. They just gave me another pain pill. So I may fall asleep at any moment, or say weird things. I'm just warning you.”

“Duly noted,” he said with a smile. “I would like you to go over again everything you saw.”

“Again?”

“Can you remember anything else? Any more details? Anything you saw or heard?”

She shook her head. “Since the blast momentarily muffled my hearing, no, I didn't hear anything.”

He took out some sheets of paper from a folder.
“One of your students, a young man named Rodney Malini, came to see me this morning.”

Anna nodded. “He was just in here. He told me about Hilary's online blog.”

Stu laid the printouts from the blog on the tray table beside her and pushed it toward her. She picked the top one up with her left hand. Fortunately, she only needed her glasses for distance vision. She could read okay without them. And what she read disturbed her.

Stu asked, “Do you have any idea who she was writing about?”

Anna said she didn't. She picked up another page and read. And then another and another. Finally, she looked up at Stu. “So you think the bombing was aimed at Hilary? That someone wanted to kill
her?
” She knew Hilary had seemed unhappy, but was it this serious?

“Did all of your students get along?” Stu asked.

“They seemed to. I'm not a part of their private lives, but I didn't seem to notice any jealousy or any rivalries, other than the fact that Hilary seemed quieter than the rest, more moody somehow.”

“When did you first notice this?”

Anna thought about that. “Right from the beginning, I think. But I've only been with this group since I came home from California. Have you spoken to her family?”

“Not yet. Deputy Liz will be going there today.”
He paused. “I'd like to talk to you about something else, too. About Peter.”

Hearing Peter's name caused her to swallow and blink rapidly.

He pulled his chair even closer to her. “I've been trying to reach him and I can't. He's not answering any of his phones.”

“He never does. He monitors all his calls, and only calls back people he wants to talk to.”

“He hasn't gone to work. I called the studio.”

The mention of the studio caused Anna to swallow. That's the place where she had worked, too.

Stu said, “He seems to be gone and no one knows where he is. I was just wondering if you knew where he might be. He's supposed to be working on a movie and he's not there.”

She said, “It's not unusual for him to take off and fly under the radar for a while. He was always pulling stunts like this….” Anna's voice trailed off and she looked down at her left hand. It was pale, the same color as the sheet.

Stu said, “I'm sorry he hurt you so much.”

Anna nodded.

“We were only together for a couple of months. I met him at a party. When I told him I wanted to do movie makeup, he recommended me for a job and the next day I got a call. It went from there.” She shook her head, all these thoughts tumbling together in her
memory. “I enjoyed what I did, but the life there…” She paused. “I never felt like I fit in.”

“What about his bomb-making?”

“Peter did special effects. In movies. Not for real.”

“He never made real bombs?”

“He worked with explosives, but it's mostly smoke and mirrors in movies, Stu.”

Stu nodded and wrote something down. She closed her eyes and drifted off for a mere second. The pain medication and the antibiotic were beginning to take effect. She blinked, her eyes open. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I seem to be fading.”

He stood up. “If Peter gets in touch with you, or if you remember anything else, or if anything jumps into your mind, be sure to call me right away.” He left another business card on her tray.

“Stu?” she called.

He turned. “Yes?”

“Will you keep me in the loop, let me know what's going on?”

He said he would and left.

And as she watched him go, it seemed to her that there was something that happened right before the blast, something that she should be remembering.

And that it had something to do with Peter. Or was she just thinking about Peter because Stu had brought him up?

S
tu didn't need to be distracted by a woman, especially one who was involved in a police investigation. But this was exactly what was happening. He pulled out of the hospital parking lot, unable to get Anna's face out of his mind.

This reaction surprised him. After his wife died six years ago, he never thought that he would be interested in any woman again. He hardly knew Anna. Yet, there was something about her that intrigued him.

He shook his head. He couldn't allow his emotions to get away from him. He thought he would never get over the loss of his wife, and he couldn't risk losing another. Therefore, he needed to stop all thoughts of Anna Barker before they began.

He frowned as he headed out onto the highway that led down to Shawnigan. He turned on the radio in the patrol car. Maybe that would get his mind off Anna and back onto the case.

The highway was pretty empty on this golden
autumn day. The only other car was a silver one, which glinted behind him. It passed him by when he turned right onto the narrow road that led to the place where he was meeting Liz.

The paved road became narrower, and then turned into a crunchy gravel, one-lane path with overgrown brush on either side. The patrol car scraped its way through and Stu rolled down the window, letting in the warm air. It wasn't too long up the road before he heard the gunfire.

The rutted path opened up to a wide, flat area dotted with a few faded clapboard buildings, wooden stands and picnic tables. The shooting range was set against the natural backdrop of a dirt and gravel cliff face.

Liz was the only person there and intent as she was, it didn't appear that she had heard him drive up. He stopped the car and watched her for a few minutes. Without making a sound, he got out of the car and leaned against it. He knew better than to call out to her when Liz was concentrating on her shot.

Without turning around she said, “I know you're there, McCabe.” She always called him by his last name.

“Just watching,” he said.

Carefully, slowly, she pulled the trigger twice. The blast was thunderous in the canyon. He had no doubt that her shots had landed right in the center of the
target. He walked down with her and sure enough, the shots had.

While Stu was talking with Anna, Liz elected to spend the time at the shooting range, so Stu had dropped her here earlier.

“I saw Anna,” he said, walking back from the target area. “She has no idea who Hilary was writing about.”

“Somehow I didn't figure she would,” Liz said. “Personally, I think we're barking up the wrong tree with Anna Barker.”

“You might be right,” Stu said, feeling strangely let down. He wanted an excuse to visit her every day. “But,” he said, “she'll be vital when it comes to Peter Remington.”

Liz took both her guns apart. She wiped each piece and placed the pieces in the precise locations in her sponge-filled briefcase. She said, “I think it's some terrorist group or some group with a beef against City Hall. I've made a list.”

She lined up the empty casings in the box.

“Good. Tell me about it on the way to Shawnigan.”

Liz closed the case, snapped the latches and locked it.

“Okay, McCabe, let's go,” she said.

On the way to Shawnigan, Liz said, “I still think it was the right decision for you to visit Anna without me. She seemed quite taken with you yesterday. You
can use that to your advantage. Probably it's because you rescued her the way you did. So if there is any more she's supposed to remember about the bombing and Peter, it's going to be you she tells.”

Stu took a deep breath. “Tell me about your list.”

“Okay. I've got five names here.”

As she rattled off names, Stu was amazed that Liz could keep so much in her head. She rarely wrote things down, yet always remembered everything.

“You know you're going to have to get these down in notebook form for all of us.” In the rearview mirror, Stu saw another silver sedan. Was that the same car that had passed him earlier?
Curious
.

“Most of the people on my list have been fired from City Hall during the last year. Or people with grudges. One was a guy with several outstanding parking tickets. He was very distressed and said that everything was unfair, and when he walked out of City Hall he said that ‘everyone would pay.'”

“That doesn't sound good.” Stu looked in the rearview mirror again. Yes, that car did look like the one he'd seen earlier.

“That's what I figure,” Liz continued. “Alec is going over that list as we speak.”

“Has anyone talked to Johnny yet?” he asked.

“He's still unconscious in Portland. But you know,” she said, tapping her knee. “In my opinion, Stu—and this is only my opinion—I think the person responsi
ble for the bombing could have been one of the women the mayor was carrying on with.”

“Excuse me? What women?”

She heaved a bit of a sigh. “Stu, it's common knowledge.”

“What common knowledge?” Stu was getting annoyed. Johnny and his wife, Marg, were his friends.

“That the mayor had affairs.”

“I don't believe it. Where are you getting your information from?”

“You're a little touchy.”

“The Seeleys are friends of mine. I rent from them, actually. I live behind them.”

“You do?”

“I rent the house down the driveway from their mansion.”

Johnny was an entrepreneur and wealthy, as far as Stu could see. He was also a bit of an arrogant loud-mouth, but he was okay. Marg, his wife, was on the shy side, but surely Johnny wasn't cheating on her.

Often they invited him for supper and sometimes these suppers were matchmaking undertakings with various young women. None of these “took,” however, because he was still single. Sometimes Marg would walk down to his cottage with a plate of muffins or banana bread.

They really seemed to have a happy marriage. Stu never saw anything but affection between Johnny and
Marg. The extrovert Johnny supported the introverted Marg. “I don't believe it,” Stu said to Liz.

“I hear the gossip. Do you ever notice how nervous Marg always is? That's a sure sign that a husband's stepping out.”

Stu shook his head. “That's just the way she is. And gossips shouldn't be listened to.” Why did he feel he had to defend the Seeleys?

“Nay, my friend,” she said, putting up her hand. “Gossip is precisely our job. We listen to gossip, we evaluate. We find out what is fact and what is not.”

The silver car was pulling closer to them. “We've got company,” Stu said. “With your photographic memory, see if you can get a license-plate number on this car behind us. I'm going to slow down and hope he passes.”

They slowed and the silver car gained on them.

“No license plate in the front,” she said.

“Maybe they'll pass us.”

But the car didn't. Instead, it turned right onto a street just behind them.

Stu pulled ahead, made a quick U-turn and tore down the street that the silver car had turned onto.

But finding the car would now be like locating a needle in a pile of hay. It was a residential street and right at the outset there were four roads where the car could have gone. After driving down various streets and looking for that elusive silver car, they went back out onto the highway.

Maybe it was nothing. But why did Stu have the feeling that it was something?

 

The hospital lunch was chicken noodle soup. The nurse raised Anna's bed into a sitting position and moved her tray up close to her. Anna picked up her spoon with her left hand, dipped it into the chicken noodle soup, tried to bring it to her mouth and tipped the spoon over. Hot noodles, chicken, carrots and peas slopped down the front of her.

She burst into tears. How was she ever going to apply makeup to people's faces when she couldn't even feed herself? She pushed her tray away. She wasn't hungry anyway. Her appetite hadn't returned, and all the meds she was taking made her feel sick. As best she could, she wiped the chicken soup from her hospital gown. But the tears would not stop.

Please, God,
she prayed.
I can be so strong for other people—for Rodney—but I can't be strong for myself.

She hung her head and let the tears come.

“Anna! Honey! Are you okay?” It was her mother who rushed toward her, saw the soup, saw the hospital gown and her tears and figured out what had happened. Catherine went into the washroom, grabbed a wet towel and started wiping her gown. “I don't know how they expect you to eat anything when you have that IV contraption hooked in your wrist.”

Her mother wiped her eyes with a tissue.

“It's a good thing I came today. I brought a couple of your nightgowns. I thought you'd appreciate wearing something other than these awful hospital ones. I also have your glasses and some magazines, your Bible and a couple of books that were on your nightstand.”

“Mom, can you look for my wallet at the cabin I was renting? I thought I had it with me that day, but I must not have because the police didn't find it.”

“I'll look,” Catherine promised. “I also brought your makeup kit. I know how much you like your makeup.”

“Makeup.” Anna lifted her left hand. “I can't even eat soup. How am I going to put on any makeup?”

“Well, we'll work on that today. Together.” Catherine stood quietly for a minute. Catherine used a fresh wet cloth to wipe Anna's face. “Lois and her friend Marg, Mayor Johnny's wife, are here today, too. They're waiting to see you.”

“Why would Johnny's wife want to see me?”

“She told Lois she wants to talk with you.”

“I guess Johnny and I have something in common. We both survived the bomb blast.”

“Everyone in church has been asking about you, and the pastor may come and see you. Marlene and Roy from the Schooner Café, too. Everyone is concerned and everyone sends their best wishes. Here.” Catherine pulled closed the curtain around the bed
and held up Anna's nightgown from home. “How about we get your hair washed?”

“I would love a shower,” Anna said wistfully.

“I know. I'm having a guy from church come to the house today to install a detachable showerhead in the tub. He's also going to install a couple of grab bars. They'll be installed by the time you get to my house.”

“Oh, Mom, you don't have to go to all that trouble. And what about all your renovations?”

“They're done. The windows are in and you should see the little reading nook I put in the parlor. I think you'll love it.” Catherine held up the nightgown and eyed the cast on Anna's right arm and the IV in her left. Wisely, she went to find a nurse. Together, Catherine and the nurse were able to take off the chicken soup–soiled hospital gown and slip on the fresh gown from home. They decided that her right arm would stay put for now, and they laid the nightgown over her right arm. When she was looking fairly presentable, Lois and Marg Seeley came into her room. Lois carried several plants. “From neighbors,” she said, setting them down. Lois kissed her, told her that she was looking better than yesterday and that there was more color in her cheeks, while Marg stood at the end of the bed and simply stared. “Hello,” she finally said to Marg. “I don't think we've ever actually met.”

“We haven't.”

The woman walked up and stood beside Anna.
She knew that Johnny was in his mid-forties and she guessed that Marg was close to the same age. Yet the woman beside her looked older. Or maybe almost losing her husband had put that frown on her face. There were strands of springy gray in her brown hair, which looked to be cut in no particular style. The woman wore no makeup and her thin lips were pale. There were fine frown lines at the sides of her down-turned mouth.

“How is your husband?” Anna asked.

Marg stood close to Anna. Her eyes looked fiery and Anna was momentarily taken aback. The woman seemed afraid, somehow. When Marg didn't say anything, Anna said, “I heard they took Johnny to Portland.”

“That's right.” Her voice was deep, guttural, a smoker's voice. “They'll be transferring him by ambulance to this hospital as soon as they can move him. Stu was here to see you earlier.” Marg moved into the subject without missing a beat.

“Yes?” Anna was surprised that Marg knew about his visit. She called him Stu. She knew him, apparently.

“I need to know what Stu told you. I need to know everything you talked about.” Marg sat down in the chair beside Anna's bed, while Catherine and Lois stood behind her.

“Hasn't he talked to you about what happened?” Anna asked.

“He doesn't want to. I know he feels protective of me.”

Anna looked at her.

“Oh, my dear,” Lois said. “Are you sure you want to know everything? Deputy McCabe doesn't want you to fret or worry.”

Marg looked up at Lois. “I need to know everything that Anna knows. You need to know that, Lois. Stu is my friend. He's our tenant, did you know that?” She looked at Anna when she said that.

“No. I didn't know that. He lives with you?” Anna asked.

“In a house that we own. On our property.”

Lois added, “And poor Marg—she's taken on another boarder right now, which is just the worst timing for her, with Johnny in the hospital and everything.” She turned to Marg and said, “I really think you've taken on too much this time, dear….”

Marg ignored Lois and continued, “I came today because I need to know everything that Stu's told you. Everything.”

Anna said, “I don't know how much I can tell you. Stu didn't tell me much. Just asked a lot of questions.”

Marg moved even closer to Anna and whispered, “What did he ask you? What did he start with?”

This whole exchange was confusing to Anna. Marg seemed so demanding. But maybe this was simply out of concern for her husband. As best she could, Anna
tried to remember as much as she could from their conversation. Marg didn't seem satisfied, however. She wanted to hear everything word for word—what Stu said, what Anna had said.