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“I don’t want to sit down. Is the operation over? Is Andy in the recovery room? When will he wake up?”

Adam Tocek said, “What do you mean, he didn’t survive? It was a goddamned hip operation. My eighty-six year old grandmother had one and is the champion of her lawn bowling team.”

“Mr. Smith suffered a pulmonary embolus, a blood clot in his leg. It can be difficult to detect and…well…when he was moved to the table it broke away and quickly moved to his heart. He went into shock, and…I’m sorry, Mrs. Smith, but despite all our efforts we were unable to get his heart working again.”

Lucky swayed. Sam Smith put his arm around his mother. “Come on, Mom,” he said. “Let’s sit down.”

Jane Reynolds’ knitting needles were still in her hand. The wool had fallen to the floor. Tears ran down her cheeks.

“Dad?” Molly said, her voice catching in her throat. “Where’s my dad?”

The doctor turned to her. “I’m sorry, Miss Smith. Your father didn’t survive.”

She moaned, a long plaintive wail. Adam Tocek wrapped her in his arms.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FIVE

“It seems to me,” Paul Keller said, “we have a plethora of suspects here.
Good
suspects, not gut feelings or grudge matches.”

Madison sat there with a sly smile on his face.
He’s a weird one
, Barb thought.

“Now,” Keller went on, “as much as this is an IHIT investigation, I do believe the first ‘I’ means integrated, as in working together, is that correct?”

Madison continued to smile. Finally Kevin Farzaneh said, “yes it does.”

“This is my town,” Keller said, “and once you’ve gone, with or without making an arrest, back to your regular jobs, I have to live here, I have to police here, and I have a department to run. Therefore, I have a few suggestions to make to the team. Good work Ray on digging up Jones’ financials. Keep digging and let him know you’re digging. Might shake him up a bit. The mob angle is good, very promising. As you seem to know about these people, Corporal Farzaneh, perhaps you could find out if the muscle was in town last week. And as for Mrs. Steiner, seems to me that in my days as a detective we always considered the spouse first. Are we finished here?” He looked around the room. Everyone was nodding except for Dick Madison. “Good. John Winters is still my lead detective in everything other than the Steiner murder. If that changes, I expect to know about it first. His wife will not be detained in order to force him to confess. Just a suggestion, of course.”

“Of course,” Madison said.

Everyone began to stand up.

“Team work,” Madison said. He remained sitting, his legs stretched out in front of him. “It’s all about team work. Shake things up, throw out a ridiculous idea, and you find people can quickly put their minds to coming up with a better one.” He stood up. “Alison, get back to the lab. We’ve a lot more tests to run. Kevin, check into Langois’ movements. Gavin, I need a lift to the Hudson House Hotel. I’m going to have another chat with Mrs. Steiner.” He left, without saying good bye.

The others followed. Ray Lopez and Ron Gavin gave each other confused looks. Farzaneh kept his eyes on the floor. Barb closed her computer and unplugged it.

“Shut the door, will you,” Keller said.

She did so.

“What a crock.” He tore the tab off a can of pop.

“You don’t think he mentioned John and Eliza in order to get people thinking?”

“If he did, it’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. The guy’s a loose cannon, couldn’t admit he was making a mistake when all the other suspects came up, so pretended he was stringing us along. I’m going to have to mention it to his commander. I’ll make sure they know I don’t ever want that jackass back in my town.”

“Will they listen to you?”

“Probably not.”

The phone on his desk rang. “Well that was fun, back to work.” He picked up the phone, listened for a moment, and said, “Thanks for letting me know.”

He placed the phone in the cradle carefully and took a deep breath. When he looked at Barb his eyes were round and sad.

“What?”

“That was John. He’s at the hospital. Andy Smith died on the operating table.”

***

John Winters didn’t stay long. Lucky had her friend and her children; Molly had Adam. He wasn’t needed.

Ray Lopez was in the office when he came in. “I heard about Molly’s dad,” Lopez said. “Darn tough.”

“Fifty-seven,” Winters said, tossing his jacket onto the hook by the door. “Too damned young. It came out of nowhere, was supposed to be a routine operation.”

“Barb’s taking up a collection for flowers. The department will send something, but Barb likes the personal touch.”

“Good old Barb. I can’t imagine they pay her enough.”

Lopez stood up. He shut the office door, and turned to stand with his back to it. “I have to tell you something. The guy’s out to get you, John.”

Winters didn’t have to ask Lopez who he was talking about. “Yeah, I figured that. I’ve never met him before, never heard of him until last week. I’ve no idea what he’s thinking.”

“You’re not the only one in his sights.”

“Molly?”

“Yes.”

“Is anyone buying what he’s selling? I don’t mean about me, I can handle it. Her? Not so well.”

“The Chief almost threw Madison out of his office, and I thought Barb was going to hit him over the head with her computer. You know as well as I do that most people in this department like Molly. She’s a nice person and a good officer. But there are always some…”

“I know.”

“I hate to say every cloud has a silver lining, but with the death of her dad happening so suddenly no one will want to be seen bad-mouthing her.”

“What are you working on?” Winters changed the subject.

“If I was allowed to, I’d tell you I’m about to have a chat with Dennis Jones, who turns out to be the estranged brother of Rudolph Steiner, nee Albert Jones, and that I’m gathering details of his precarious financial situation so he knows I know he’s in a ton of trouble. Unfortunately I can’t tell you that right now Jones is the number one suspect, but only one of several, so I won’t.”

Winters grinned. “Thanks, Ray. I’ve got a few calls to make about the B&E business.”

“I’d forgotten all about that. You have a lead?”

“I hope so.”

They returned to their computers.

A few minutes later Lopez got up and left, presumably to visit Jones. Winters began calling B&E victims at their places of work. Only one wasn’t available, but the others told the same story. They took their dogs to Debby’s Dog Centre Monday to Friday during the day while they were at work. It was much better, they all said, for the dog to be exercised and in a social environment than sitting at home alone, lonely and bored.

He leaned back in his chair and thought about his next move. He’d find out what he could about Debby, whoever she was, do a record check, see if she’d ever been in any trouble. Presumably she had some staff, even if just someone to keep the books, and a partner, or friends with whom she chatted about her business. Chat about things like who wasn’t going to be coming for a couple of weeks because they were going on vacation. Molly had mentioned Amy worked there part-time. He’d met Amy once; unlikely she had the organizational skills to pull off a series of B&Es.

Molly had been planning to drop in on Amy, ask a few questions about the running of the dog care business. He couldn’t ask her to do it now.

He had something else to do first. He picked up the phone. “Jim, is Dawn back yet?”

“She’s waiting for you.”

Dawn Solway was standing by the dispatch desk when Winters got there. He’d checked earlier to see who was on shift this afternoon. Solway and Brad Noseworthy. For this job, he wanted the woman. He explained what they were after.

“Once we get in hearing range, I want lights and sirens. The whole shebang. We’re going in like gang busters. I want the handcuffs on before he can blink.”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” she said.

“The bigger the audience the better. I’ll say the words, then you stuff him in the car. Lights and sirens all the way back to the station. Let’s go.”

“Tough about Molly’s dad,” Solway said, pulling into Monroe Street. They were heading for the garden center on the other side of the Upper Kootenay River. It was still only early April, but landscaping businesses were busy getting stock in, preparing for the spring rush soon to begin. Lots of heavy lifting to be done, bags of compost, mulch, potting soil, trees with roots wrapped in burlap bags, crates of seedlings and small plants. Good work for a man with muscle but not much else.

As they crossed the bridge, Solway began the sound and light show. She took the corner into the side street on two wheels. By the time they got to the parking lot, and pulled up in a shower of gravel, people had stopped work to see what was going on.

Charlie Bassing was driving a forklift, moving a couple of baby maple trees. His white T-shirt was filthy with sweat and soil and his baseball hat pushed to the back of his head.

Winters marched up to the forklift, Solway behind. “Charles Bassing,” he said, in a good loud voice. “Get down from there. I’m arresting you on a charge of criminal harassment.”

“What the fuck?”

“Climb down, or I will bring you down. Now.”

The moment Bassing’s feet were on the ground, Solway moved in. She pulled his arms behind him and snapped the handcuffs on. She took hold of his arm and marched him to the car.

“Hey,” Bassing shouted, trying to twist in the woman’s iron grip, “I didn’t do nothing.”

“You will have the opportunity to tell that to a judge,” Winters said. “You have the right…” he followed, reciting the warning. Solway pushed Bassing into the back seat of the car, her hand on the top of his head. The two officers got in the front and she drove away, siren shattering the peace of the spring air. Bassing began to swear. Solway turned her head slightly, and Winters winked.

The whole thing had taken less than two minutes. He’d been particularly satisfied at the looks of open-mouthed astonishment on the faces of the onlookers.

***

By the time they got home, to the house in the woods at a bend in a tributary of the Upper Kootenay River, Lucky’s legions of friends had gathered. Tea and coffee were made, cookies and squares laid out on plates in the center of the wide, heavily-scarred pine table. A pot of fragrant stew bubbled on the stove, and the dog’s food and water dishes were full.

Sylvester ran to the door to greet Lucky, his favorite person. His furry tail wagged and his wet pink tongue hung out of his mouth at the sheer pleasure of seeing her.

Lucky dropped to her knees and put her arms around him. Her whole body shook as she hugged the dog. Happy at first at the attention, Sylvester soon began to squirm and try to pull away. Sam put his hand on his mother’s arm, and guided her to her feet. Her face was streaked with tears, and a few golden dog hairs had attached themselves to her cheek. Sam brushed them away.

“I have to get Norman and go to work,” Adam said to Molly. “You going to be okay?”

“As okay as I can be.” She turned her face up for a kiss.

“You going to stay here for the night?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll come by first thing tomorrow.” He kissed her, very softly, and turned and walked away.

She went into the kitchen.

When the doctor broke the awful news, it had taken her straight back to the day Graham died. They’d said he was in critical condition, but she arrived at the hospital to find that Graham hadn’t had a chance; he’d been dead when he’d been found. Lying in a filthy, garbage-strewn alley, a knife in his stomach. Victim of one of the druggies he’d been trying to help.

Today Adam had been so kind, so caring, she was embarrassed she’d been remembering Graham.

“Moonlight, dear?”

Smith snapped back. Jane Reynolds was speaking to her. The old woman’s eyes shone with tears and kindness. “Tea is ready.”

“Thanks.”

Smith started to hang her jacket on the row of hooks by the door. Her hand froze. Her dad’s hat was there, the one he always wore working in the yard in summer to protect his balding head. She swallowed, and turned away, and dropped the jacket over the back of a chair.

Sam had settled Lucky at the kitchen table. One of her friends had placed a mug of tea and a lemon square and oatmeal cookie in front of her. Her fingers tore the cookies into crumbs.

“Would you like to lie down?” Jane asked in a low, soft voice.

“I’m so very tired all of a sudden. Moonlight,” Lucky said, “will you help me?”

“Sure, Mom.”

They went upstairs, to the large, sunny bedroom at the end of the hall where Lucky and Andy had slept together for more than thirty years. Smith helped her mother take off her shoes and her pants. Lucky lay down and her daughter pulled the cover up. It was a beautiful quilt, which Lucky won in a fund-raising raffle for the Grandmothers in Africa group. It was made of tiny squares in all shades of blue, getting increasingly lighter as the squares moved toward the center.

Lucky closed her eyes. Her chest moved. “Did I ever tell you how your father and I met?”

Many times
. Smith stroked her mother’s hand.

“We were in our junior year at the University of Washington. He had his eye on a girl in my Medieval European history class, one of the campus organizers for the SDS. Andy didn’t have the slightest interest in Medieval Europe, but he was trying to look interested in order to impress her.” Lucky chuckled at the memory. “Between his involvement in the SDS and everything else anti-war, and going to classes he wasn’t even taking, it’s no wonder he failed his math courses. He always sat beside me, only because it had a good view of the girl. I thought he was cute, and I wondered how I could get him to start talking to me. He smoked heavily, so many of us did back then. I didn’t really smoke but thought I’d try it to look mature and serious. I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered him one. Imagine smoking in a lecture hall. I believe that’s a capital offence now.” Lucky’s voice was soft, but steady. “I gave the pack a little jerk to release one, the way I’d seen people do on TV, and the whole lot of them spilled out. All over the floor, between the seats. I was horribly embarrassed. Your dad picked two up, gave me one, put one in his mouth and lit mine first. Since that day, we’ve scarcely ever spent a day apart.” Her eyes closed. Molly sat with her mother for a while, deep in her own thoughts. Mostly of her father, who she’d always adored, but also about Graham. And Adam.